Let the Devil sleep

"The thought of an adventure does make me giddy."

*

Waiting for the game to arrive. There's a saying "odottavan aika on pitkä", "the time of someone who is waiting, is long". Crude translation and doesn't really work in English but it does feel like I've been waiting for an eternity. I don't have the patience to write anything smart at the moment. The moment the game arrives I will be consumed into its world, and might not write here for some time.

What do you say to the God of Death? - Not today.

(Copyrights mine)

Halloween is over, and I am paying for the lack of sleep. Every time I suffer from lack of sleep my mind starts to slip into the dark places.

*

I also found fascinating the attitudes of my female-friends and family-member towards sexual females in games. Even when they are bisexuals they get annoyed by game-women who have large breasts or - and who are sexually open-minded or openly sexual. Is it some kind of basic feeling, to be threatened by large breasted beauties that are aggressive in their pursuit for men or they are flirty or in some other way openly sexual. When I would think that my female-friend might be attracted to this beautiful game-woman with heart of gold, she was annoyed and disgusted, and she wasn't the only woman who felt that way. I was a bit disappointed that the behavior and looks of the character was enough to lose all interest in getting to know her.

And although this is a game-character example from real-life, I wonder how well it would prove to be equally true in real life. I'm sure that if I would've asked them to give her a chance they might have seen a person behind the physical features and the characters social "games".

I have confronted situations when I felt threaten in real life by friend's boyfriend, but that was years ago and I haven't felt that way after that. And in that situation I could recognize that it was something basic in me. I think what changed was the role of solitary existence which I learned to embrace thus not feeling threatened by sharing my friends time with their better halves. But in games, a thing only other gamer's get, I've never felt disgusted nor annoyed by some character by the way they look and behave. Is it my lack of sexuality which makes it harder to understand? Can I see more of the person rather than the acts and words? I would like to think so, but I think no one can be that just. It is something else, but this subject along with female-reactions will remain a mystery to me.

*

And I also wanted to write about couple of stereotypical assumptions that haven't been based on any facts.

Assumption nro 1.
"Asexual's are impotent."

- Fact is that asexuality and impotence have nothing to do with each other. Asexual's can have perfectly healthy bodies and their bodily functions can work just fine but of course anyone might have problems in that department no matter how existing or non-existing their sexual drive is. But those problems have nothing to do with sexuality or the lack of it.

Assumption nro 2.
"Bisexuals cannot be in a relationship because they would soon crave for the other gender. They can never settle only just for one."

- Fact is that bisexuality isn't such a different thing from hetero- or homosexuality. The same reasons for being in a relationship or for cheating or for being satisfied sexually do not differ with bisexuals. If you want to be in a relationship, found someone you love, you won't sooner or later start craving for the other gender than the one you are with. The same things apply here than with any faithful or unfaithful relationships. You are either a faithful lover or you are not. You can either be with only one person or you cannot. Sexuality has nothing to do with that. And bisexuals do not have any magical powers that make them amazing lovers with the same gender, so they do not start planning of dumping you just because you are the opposite gender. How well of a lover someone is depends on many things and being the same gender doesn't automatically make anyone a talented lover.

I think there might be some other funny incorrect assumptions out there but these two came to mind so I wanted to write about them, although who would believe what anyone says when they have already made their minds. 

Horrifying Halloween

Hm, unfortunately I have no pictures or words to share at this moment. Halloween sneaked up on me once again, and I repeated the same mistake of not preparing well enough for it. I could've done paper-mache pumpkins or pumpkin-lanterns from old glass jars or something like that but instead I looked through local stores only to notice that they have no Halloween-stuff for sale and the pumpkin-lights I found from a web-shop haven't arrived and after looking through feedback from the store the lights might never arrive. Thankfully I chose a bill as a method of payment so no harm there. It seems that I only have candles. And candy. I think they will suffice just fine. Perhaps next year I will purchase something for the event.

Tomorrow I will see family and that's my Halloween.

Never the less it seems I won't be able to take any Halloween-appropriate photographs yet again. So enjoy this song perfect for any Halloween parties or walks in the night under a crescent moon.

EDIT: A song once again removed from the source. So just search for Type O Negative "Wolf moon".

Creepy Green Light

(Copyrights belong to me)

(Copyrights belong to me)

*

A little bit of Halloween-preparations underway. Sticks, candles, spiderwebs are mostly it. I am yet again quite broke, but perhaps next year I will be more prepared. I am trying to build some kind of cloaked figure, but it is still unfinished. I am too tired still to try anything more time-consuming, although I have found a lot of diy-tips of making pumpkins and skulls from paper-mache, which isn't complicated at all. Just time- and effort consuming. I have neither at the moment.

"Shut your eyes and You'll burst into Flames."

"Dark. Laughing. The owls were flying. Many things were blocked."

"Flashlights pass by in the woods over the ridge. The owls were near." 

"The dark was pressing in on her. Quiet then."

The Dweller on the Threshhold

(Copyrights belong to me)

"Part of me's beginning to think that's how you get to the end of your life 

and don't have anything to show for it."

This sentence has been going circles in my head.

Today started one week of resting at home. I'm too diligent that this feels wrong. A curse not strange to my countrymen. Or so has been said. Diligent, hard-working, and tough are the basic characteristics but each new generation changes that. I guess this is part of me growing up in a unsafe home with unstable people in unstable situations. I tried to help by being quiet, helping in anyway I knew how and usually none of the things I did was appreciated. At times I would get frowned upon by trying to clean the mess we were all living in. I've made my peace with those things, I think, but all that explains my distress of not fulfilling my duties. It feels odd being at home. I hope this feeling of uneasiness eases since I took this week off just so I could rest and gather my strength. Let the medication do its magic on me and hope for the best.

(Copyrights belong to me) 

(Copyrights belong to me)

(Copyrights belong to me)

*

New family-member. Seeing him warmed my heart. I named him "Byron". The most beautiful thing I've seen.

"In all the time you've known me, have I ever given you the impression that I was turned off by crazy?"

I'm trying to heal my depression with conventional methods, like vitamins, meditation, positive thinking and hopefully walking outdoors in my free time. None of these methods work on their own, but they might add some help to the medication. I got so distressed at the last time in therapy that I am willing to try anything at this point. Obviously I cannot place all my trust in medication.

*

Sebastian: I-- Hawke! We were just talking about you.

Hawke: Carry on. I love to eavesdrop.

Varric: "Hawke said sarcastically."

Hawke: Saying good things, I hope?

Varric: "Hawke asked diplomatically."

Hawke: You know I hate it when you do that.

Varric: "Hawke muttered in an angry aside to the dwarf..."

*

Isabela: So, Donnic was in the Rose.

Aveline: He was not!

Isabela: Easy, big girl. He wasn't shopping for himself. You're lucky to have a man who wants to please you. 

But, maybe you could indulge him more. Are there areas of intimacy you haven't explored?

Aveline: Why? Why do you give me these doubts!

Isabela: Aveline. If you shove your thumb up his ass, I win.

Varric: Ah, that old chestnut.

*

Talkative man: That man over there. He's been staring at me for an entire hour. I counted.

Varric: Maybe he likes you.

Talkative man: No. He knows. He knows that I know. But what he does not know is that I know that he knows that I know.

Varric: How do you know that he doesn't know that you know that he knows that you know, you know?

Talkative man: What?

Varric: Exactly.

Hawke: (Coughs)

Haunted House

I don't know why Halloween fascinates me so, but I am hooked. I'd love to decorate my apartment, but I can't afford many decorations. And the decorations that are sold in my country are few and childish. But the webshops - especially American ones - have so many amazing decorations, that I wish I could afford to buy stuff from them. Here's couple webshops that I've been glaring at sometimes:

Grandinroad.

Potterybarn.

"In a real dark night of the soul, it is always three o'clock in the morning, day after day."

Couple of days ago I spent the entire day in a sleep-like haze. The world seemed unreal, flat. It was the turning point of the medication or the sickness. Yesterday I started to feel better. Today I feel better still. Hopefully this will last. 

My memory seems to worsen more because I can't seem to remember much about the last month. I know this was to be expected but still it's not easy to get used to this.

*

There was some quote I've often stumbled upon at different occasions and I never knew the whole sentence - until last night. But gods forbid; I can't remember it anymore! I'm slowly starting to wonder if it was a dream. I'm trying to find it never the less. Hopefully I will.

Here's some quotes I found in my search:

For example the things I found about Charles Bukowski sounded interesting:

“There is a loneliness in this world so great

that you can see it in the slow movement of

the hands of a clock.

people so tired

mutilated

either by love or no love.

people just are not good to each other

one on one.

the rich are not good to the rich

the poor are not good to the poor.

we are afraid.

our educational system tells us

that we can all be

big-ass winners.

it hasn't told us

about the gutters

or the suicides.

or the terror of one person

aching in one place

alone

untouched

unspoken to

watering a plant.” 

― Charles Bukowski, "Love is a Dog from Hell"

“I was drawn to all the wrong things: I liked to drink, I was lazy, I didn't have a god, politics, ideas, ideals. I was settled into nothingness; a kind of non-being, and I accepted it. I didn't make for an interesting person. I didn't want to be interesting, it was too hard. What I really wanted was only a soft, hazy space to live in, and to be left alone. On the other hand, when I got drunk I screamed, went crazy, got all out of hand. One kind of behavior didn't fit the other. I didn't care.”

― Charles Bukowski, "Women"

That is one name I've heard and read somewhere but never got acquainted with.

“I don't hate people. I just feel better when they aren't around.” 

― Charles Bukowski

It all reminded me how much I enjoyed reading. I enjoyed many things, but years went by without doing those things and now I wonder what it means. Is reading a part of me anymore? Can I think of myself as a reader if I don't read a single page in couple of years time? It seems that my mind is willing but the flesh is weak.

*

I've been resting my mind with Dragon Age-games from Bioware (the same makers of Mass Effect-trilogy). The Dragon Age 2 is one of my favourite games now. The first game seemed really unfinished, but it is still a good game. I especially enjoy the plot-lines in them, the depth of the characters, dialogue and some simple things like the fighting-system, mostly that in the second game. Visually they aren't impressive, especially the first game is quite "fugly", but looks aren't all. It is the depth of the game; the story, the characters that makes it excellent. And I especially fell for the second games characters. Also the plot was more well thought and executed. I can only recommend it.

Humour also has a large portion in the creation of a great game. And Dragon Age (2 - especially) have made me laugh even at times like these.

(Source.)

I'm also paying myself into poverty and starvation by pre-ordering the 3.game that is due in the next month... I can see my future: hours and hours sitting on the sofa, surrounded by vast amounts of snacks and empty wrappers, dirty dishes while the apartment gets over-run by dust and spiderwebs:

Treurende oude man

Whispers in the wind about the second coming of Twin Peaks? I have doubts and still a flicker of hope since I trust David Lynch. No one else could pull that kind of miracle - and make it worthwhile.

I've been so tired for so many days now. Today my mind hasn't been as strained... I think. But I'm so tired. Exhausted.

Slumber

The opposite wall I showed in a previous post. Unpainted shelves. I still did not have the need or want to take a picture with a better light, but since my apartment is usually as dark as in this picture, I guess it is appropriate. Inside the glass-shelves are the DIY-books I had crafted a bit in the summer. Unfortunately that project has been on hold for quite some time now. Perhaps one day when I feel better, I have the time and energy to continue working on them.

"Lay my hands on Heaven and the Sun and the Moon and the Stars, While the Devil wants to fuck Me in the back of His car."

When I was a teenager I had this feeling of "emptiness", and it was not the good kind of emptiness, for example what the Buddhist-philosophy teaches. 
It was the kind of feeling I have written about before, yet "the emptiness" is something more than that. It is like you are a ghost in this world. Or the world is the ghost, since nothing seems real; not you nor anything around you. 
When I was younger I had the feeling inside me, but now it feels like the world around me has turned into this empty abyss alongside me. Me and the world are vortexes pulling each other, trying to fill up this void.

Even though I feel like that at times, there are moments of blissful ignorance. If I just shut my eyes tight enough, fill my mind with enough noise, I can still feel my heart beat.

And now I am trying to fill up my mind with enough noise to quiet it down. Turn my eyes towards anything that wouldn't wake those thoughts from the abyss. Just be silent and act like you don't know the thoughts are there.

That reminded me of childhood-nightmares, where I was the only human, and my family had turned into monsters of some kind, and I had to act like I was one of them and be careful they wouldn't notice that I'm a human. I always woke up before they noticed. I wonder if they would have killed me, eaten me or ripped me to shreds? Child's mind is a funny thing. 

I feel like I should explain more about this feeling of "emptiness". I'm sure I'm not the only one who has felt like that, no matter what it means to each and everyone uniquely. Perhaps all the self-loathing, unsatisfactory relationships, years of loneliness and identity-crisis's have left their mark in me in such a way, that I feel un-alive, un-achieved, unloved, un-just-about-everything. I don't feel like my existence "gives" anything. I have no impact on anything, I can't change anything, be part of anything and I can't seem to create anything. I'm not writing this here to feel sorry about myself I am just explaining what I am. These things are known to me for many years and as my therapist has noted, I have had time to think about a lot of things. There are things hard to see or understand, especially being too close to them, but I still know - or knew - myself quite well. Yet lately my identity seems to have shifted and changed - or revealed more of its self. Yet I do not recognize it anymore. It might be this depression that makes thinking and observing a tad more difficult than before.

*

I still feel inspiration stirring, but it pains me not to be able to do anything about it. I'm constantly exhausted, unable to survive from the simplest of tasks, and I have to make pictures I already promised to make. Frustration creeps up. Patience is not one of my virtues.

Decadent

Heebie-Jeebies

My apartment is always "under construction". It's been months since the last time I did something to it. I have tables and shelves to re-paint, but I've been too exhausted to continue.
I should take a better - more well-lit - pictures of my home, especially the DIY-projects you can barely see here: fake-fireplace (picture above) and the steam-to-be-punk- computer in the picture below. It looks better from afar. The things I've used with making the both are plainly put "trash" and stuff that I've come across or collected at some point. Wood-pieces, paint and knick-knack's of all kind. But I still need to continue working with them. The fake-fireplace needs some kind of metal-cover(?) to add the fireplace-feel and also to stop my cats from going near any candles I might burn in it. It is highly fire-risky gadget to be had, but I am very careful with open-fire anyway, and I've always planned to invest on led-candles. For the safety of my dear possession but most of all for the safety of my cats whiskers. Nothing looks quite so sadly hilarious than a cat with burned whiskers.

*

I've been meant to get to know the music by Nick Cave for some time now, but coincidentally I was lured into this song by the album cover. After all, I am weak for the aesthetic beauty of the night-time trees:

Also the fall-time playlist of mine consists of dark cabaret, well, what can I say, the era the music rekindles really speaks to the reincarnation- and history-freak-side in me:

"I'm shying from the light, I always loved the night, And now you offer me Eternal Darkness"

Oh depression, you cruel mistress you. No matter what I do, you always follow me around like a persistent, vile shadow.

(Copyrights belong to me, thank you very much)

Now I am taking four pills for this. And I am slowly accepting the fact that I am prone to depression and it will most likely be part of me for the rest of my life. No matter how long or short that time will be. I guess that is to be expected when you are a creative and over all sensitive. At least all the part-time writers, poets, artists and musicians I know have some kind of mental problems. Most of them, but not all, of course. This feverish fire that eats up inside out can be enormous source of creativity but it comes with a high cost; suffering, incapability to function properly in society nor relationships and if not treated well and fast enough it might even end up in the eternal slumber of the cold ground. Which I have very mixed feelings about. And also it has made my imagination soar, unfortunately without any way to express myself now or in the near-future. I need some painting-equipment's and time and I have a previous promise to keep, so... that's it then. For now.

Here There be Monsters

I am a shark

I’ve got to keep moving

And if I don’t move I will die

If you hold me here

I’ll just disappear

Won’t I' Won’t I?

Deep in my dark

And down in my cold

WIth nothing to feel

And nothing to hold

If you hold me here

I’ll just disappear

Won’t I' Won’t I?

Just like a shark I will tear you apart

You won’t even know what you did

I’ll try to spare you the pain of my jaws

But it’s just in my nature to rip and to shred

Pretty white teeth

In pretty white rows

Eyes open wide

Even while in repose

If you hold me here

I’ll just disappear

Won’t I' Won’t I?

Vermillion Lies - Shark Serenade

*

Very much sums this feeling of trying to keep moving on because if I stop even for a second I will die. There's some kind of self-destructive side in the human-nature which puzzles me. I've heard that there are some mammals that act the same way, but humans are quite unique in that field. We are really self-destructive in some way or another. Whether it is smoking, drinking or taking some kind of life-threatening risks or if it is just plain old suicidal tendencies we sure hate life - or living. 

"Darkness that brings the choking heat. Flames render the Silence, awakening the hungry Beast. Open time's door to beckon prey."

"Hearing this, the hunter armed with bow and arrow said, "I will kill the lizard." But upon meeting his opponent, he held back, taunting, "Who's afraid of a reptile?" At this, the furious lizard hissed, "I'll swallow you up in a single bite!" Then the huge creature attacked, jaws opened wide. This was what the man wanted. Calmly drawing his bow, he shot into the lizard's gaping mouth. Effortlessly, the arrow flew, piercing the defenseless maw, and the lizard fell down dead." - Silent Hill

"What if all the world's inside of your head - Just creations of your own? Your devils and your gods, All the living and the dead, And you're really all alone?"

(Apollo - copyrights mine)

Unfortunately the depression has beginning to rise its ugly misshaped head again. I've been running away from reality and silence into the world of gaming so I could rest, but when I am at work there's not anything keeping the voices and feelings at bay.

Now the childhood-ghosts stay dormant - perhaps for all eternity - but you don't need any actual reasons for depression to rise and consume you. At least I feel that I don't have any reason to be depressed. Sure, my life is empty and there's hatred and resentment inside me, the only things that have never seized to exist no matter how much time goes by. It is true, that holding on your hate is like holding on a hot piece of coal; it burns only you. And then again none of these are the reasons why I feel like this - again. I counted that formally I've been suffering from depression for two years. Half a year I had some rest thanks to a medication but I don't know why the medication doesn't work as well anymore. Have I been sleeping enough? Lack of sleep is something that prevents the medication from working, at least that's something I've noticed. But also the medication helps you to sleep, so... all I have is questions on top of more questions.

One thing that hasn't changed is this feeling of an observer, this feeling of being inside a glass-dome, where I can only observe the life around me unable to participate. Sometimes because of this feeling I feel barely human. Like I am just a consciousness  perhaps like a ghost or some sort of invisible entity, that exists and nothing else. I eat, drink, sleep, work and the same routine repeats day after day. Sometimes I have planned on going out somewhere, but then I cancel to notice that I actually don't want to go anywhere. I just have this feeling that it might be normal or good for me or maybe this what I am doing, cooped in my apartment every day is unhealthy. Yet it feels good. If nothing else feels like anything, being by myself in my home makes me feel good and safe. I have been wondering if saving up money to travel somewhere is the same thing, that I feel like I should do it though I don't think I even feel the need (anymore) nor even want to go anywhere. It is maddening to try and figure out things especially since my head doesn't seem quite alright.

Another troubling thing is my asexuality and the confused feelings it arises in me. It's like trying to see your forehead without a mirror. I can't make it out, I can't make any sense of what I want. Am I still fine by being by myself? The thought of anything else is exhausting, I don't want to give up what I have now, and yet I get at times this craving for human company, some kind of intimacy, the things that average romantic relationship brings. But it's completely different to want something and get it in reality. One thing about asexuality is that in your head you might think that "maybe sex isn't that bad" but when you would have to go through with it in real life, you realize that "nope", it is most definitely different in theory and in real life. Perhaps the thoughts are what confuses me. Also the coming- and going feelings of bi-romanticism, which is usually hetero-romanticism for me, but sometimes it does go further than that. I don't advertise it much, since I don't want people to get stuck on the "bi/gay"-part, when all I am saying is that I possess some healthy interest on a person despite their gender. But the ratio is not even. It is more like 95% of the time I prefer the female-gender and find males unappealing, but at rare times the 5% reacts, but it is so rare, that I usually don't think about it much. This time it is just making me confused.

*

"Every Day Is Exactly The Same"

Nine Inch Nails

I believe I can see the future

Cause I repeat the same routine

I think I used to have a purpose

But then again

That might have been a dream

I think I used to have a voice

Now I never make a sound

I just do what I've been told

I really don't want them to come around

Oh, no

Every day is exactly the same

Every day is exactly the same

There is no love here and there is no pain

Every day is exactly the same

I can feel their eyes are watching

In case I lose myself again

Sometimes I think I'm happy here

Sometimes, yet I still pretend

I can't remember how this got started

But I can tell you exactly how it will end

Every day is exactly the same

Every day is exactly the same

There is no love here and there is no pain

Every day is exactly the same

I'm writing on a little piece of paper

I'm hoping someday you might find

Well I'll hide it behind something

They won't look behind

I'm still inside here

A little bit comes bleeding through

I wish this could have been any other way

But I just don't know, I don't know what else I can do

Every day is exactly the same

Every day is exactly the same

There is no love here and there is no pain

Every day is exactly the same

Life is Dark and full of Terrors

(Illustration by Gustave Dore)

(Illustration by Gustave Dore)

*

I don't have anything I want to write about. Damn, I'm always verbally constipated. No matter what thoughts arise I feel unwilling to write anything. So enjoy these beautiful illustrations by the godly Gustave Doré.

Your own Personal Satan

(Copyrights mine)

Been seeing sexual dreams lately which amuses me. All in good taste though - and have to mention not involving me in anyway. Perhaps too much Bioware?

Also couple dreams about my ex as if to say that it is never over. Those now almost unreal memories will haunt me forever like some monsters from a nightmare. A year is at the same time really long and really short period of time.

No interest in life. I rather play games and forget that there's a household to run and things to do and promises to keep. I just don't want to do anything. And my obligations are tormenting me. I wanted to do certain things, I wouldn't otherwise promised to do them if I wouldn't have wanted, but I can't seem to find the will to do them. Odd and complicated. And distressing.

(Copyrights mine) 

I also wanted to write something with an actual subject, but now that I am sitting here, I find myself unwilling to write about the subject. I do not know why. Perhaps writing would force me to think and deal with the subject and difficult and painful things are not in my to-do-list at the moment. Thus I play games to surround myself with other worlds and other plots other than my own life. It does help with the anxiety that seems to be increasing.

 (Copyrights mine)

Two of the last falls have been difficult so I'm not sure what to expect of this year. It might not be quite as horrible this time, but there's still many things gnawing at me. I am getting older and I have achieved nothing and there's not really anything to expect from the future. These are the things I hope to discuss in my therapy - that has been on a break for perhaps too many months now. Considering my emotional turmoil which goes round and round from better to worse.

(Copyrights mine)

Colorless dreams within a Dream within a Dream

I've put reality on a hold for the moment. I have no time nor interest to write anything, though I have things to write about. It can wait.

"Kalahira, this one's heart is pure, but beset by wickedness and contention."

It's interesting to read the arguments about the authenticity of love when sexuality is not involved. 

There's just the tiny problem, that no one can be objective about the matter. You are either a sexual person and can't really understand the nature of love without sex and asexual's can't really understand the role of sex in love; what it gives to it. Or that's how I feel. Who knows in how many different ways the opinions varies.

I wasn't able to stuck the poll on this post in any sensible way so it's a bit of a mess up there.

Another subject I thought writing  about is the surprising(?) disgust among women towards men in emotional state - for example crying. I don't know how many women find emotional responsive off-putting or if it just varies - which is something I like to think to be the answer, but I find it a bit troublesome. Not for me anymore but for others and for the over-all gender-equality. It is difficult to show emotions and it is almost physically difficult to cry. I haven't been able to shed a tear even when I have wanted to in hopes of getting some kind of relief from that. The only time - and the last time - I cried was because of my ex. I was a lot of times in emotional torment with her not to mention a depression that was slowly getting worse. Depression is a real emotion-booster, too much so and it consist only of sadness of all varieties.

But then I've noticed situations when other men have became emotional either by crying out of sadness or just being open with affection or empathy, and it had made the women in the situation disgusted.

That is something I can't understand. I literally cannot even try to comprehend what goes in their minds when they act like it is not alright for men to show emotions and vulnerability.  Women have a gift and a curse to be emotional, and men don't have it the same way. Even in physical pain, I've never shed a tear. Even when I have been emotionally and physically exhausted, at the end of my strength, I've not been able to cry to relieve my own suffering. When men cry, it's usually either intense pain that comes from something like a bone slicing through the skin and muscle or emotional pain from something actually worth crying about. I do feel a bit offended by the attitudes toward emotional men, since I am somewhat emotional myself and when I hear someone getting rejected over tears I do get annoyed. I feel like I should explain that if some man cries for you, you should be happy that he loves you enough to feel the kind of pain that makes him cry.

But enough with my ranting. I see the world and the people in it a bit oddly, perhaps. I still believe that we are all our own unique personalities though there are similar effects from the gender-stereotypical upraising. 

"After time adrift among open stars, along tides of light and through shoals of dust, I will return to where I began."

"Let the moon's shining light hide two lovers with its rays

Though I know that dawn will set us on course for separate ways

I will hold this night in memory for all my living days

Now unmasked, I feel your skin on mine."

Resting above the water

(Copyrights belong to me - Old, old, really old photos of a place that exists no longer in anywhere else than in my memories) 

(Copyrights belong to me) 

I've been thinking about my relationship with the rest of the human-race and I still cannot help but to feel like an outsider.

This is one of the things that never stops bothering me. And I keep wondering am I the only one who feels this way, that is it normal or not.

And one of the reasons why I'm writing about this, again, is that I'm trying to make sense of this feeling. I can't understand the way people think, I am the one who likes things other people don't seem to like and in TV-shows and movies I am constantly puzzled by people's actions and motives. Real life puzzles me too, of course, but I am not in contact with many real-life people who puzzle me as much, maybe because I am used to those people. New people though never get even close enough for me to get used to. And the old relationships have never been made by my own effort. All the relationships have either been there by relation of blood or people have come to me thus making it easier for me to form bonds with them. But for years I've felt uninterested in forming any new relationships. There was a time when I thought that having new friends might be a good idea, especially when the old ones have been actively scattered all over the country and I am more and more by myself. Yet until the past few years I've finally grown used to it. I am used to being by myself and now I feel more than ever that I don't need any new people in my life. Just the thought exhaust's me. But I wouldn't mind a chance to stay in contact with the old friends and family-members. Something that hasn't been going quite as well as I've hoped.

There are things that I can't seem to understand no matter how much I try. Like the lack of empathy, some kind of sensitive instinct, compassion that really many seem to lack. Even the people I like can seem to have only half-empathy, half-sensitivity. Especially when I was really depressed my mind could not block any suffering out, I was consuming it all around me to the point where I felt I was going to break. And I admit that at couple occasions I complained to my ex for not having much sensitivity, which I understand now is something that only few people among thousands seem to have. But that sensitivity, the quality of it, also makes you vulnerable to suffering, depression and suicidal thoughts. You're ready to give up on the humanity and you need to be really stubborn - or masochist or both - to survive.

And another thing that could be a matter of empathy and sensitivity is loyalty in romantic relationships. Something I can't understand is cheating. I can make some sense of it when I think about it as one of the animalistic sides of human-nature but still it is really odd. If you are in a relationship, and you act like you're in love, why do you cheat? I've never been in that situation though my ex did something similar. It seems that cheaters are always cheaters and that they don't seem to care about the impact of their actions, which seems selfish and sociopath-behaviour. It is like they feel they are entitled to cheat and they cannot understand why the cheated is so enraged and hurt. And for them the lies seem to be no big deal or they don't consider themselves as liars. My ex was a trickster when she tricked me into thinking that she loved me. And when she got bored with me, especially when things got tough, she discarded me as easily as anyone who simply doesn't care - as she did not care. It was emotional cheating in some way. It included lying, emotional tormenting (kind of like "if you're like that or not like that I will leave you") and she never felt she did anything wrong. But all that opened my eyes to reality, that I had not known her at all. There was a side she kept hidden, a side she probably didn't think as any big deal, and when I saw that, I knew there was absolutely nothing I could do. You can't do anything if you're faced with the reality that the person you're with is not who you think. It is almost like you were looking at a cover of a person, and underneath it was the actual person who revealed themselves when they cheat and get caught in a lie. But it confuses me deeply since I can't make any sense of that kind of behaviour. Usually people know when they are acting harmful or cause pain. But there are people who just don't seem to see that in themselves. They just do what they want and chuck up the wreckage they leave behind as something they didn't do or didn't have any say nor responsibility in it.

But it is fascinating in some way. Although I can never forgive nor forget, as it seems, there's some odd satisfaction at times to poke at the old scar-tissue wounds until they start to bleed again. It's been over a year and I'm soon going back to the "crime-scene" yet I am terrified of seeing that person. It's a big city, but not big enough. I wonder how I am going to react going back there. Thinking about it terrifies me a bit. I probably can't go to the places I used to, since the memories are still too vivid and I don't want to dwell in them.

(Copyrights belong to me)

(Copyrights belong to me)

(Copyrights belong to me)

And here I am, still looking at houses for sale, hoping to get a chance to buy a place of my own. This feeling comes and goes, but it exists strongly in me. Most likely because I have no reason for life and not much to expect from the future so playing video-games and watching movies doesn't grant me enough fulfillment for my time. My own house might add more to my time, which seems to be the only thing I can do now; spend time doing something I enjoy. There are no schools, no fulfilling job-careers, no money to travel the world and no romantic relationships so all I have is time.

"Hello Darkness, my old friend, I've come to talk with You again"

 (Copyrights belong to me)

I suspect smoking has started to take effect from my antidepressant medication. I need to try to smoke less if I don't want this to get any worse.

Because of this feeling of a wounded mind I can't write. I can't think.

The Pound of Flesh

Horrible nightmares have left my waking hours a bit darker; nightmares about never receiving acceptance and love from my father and about my ex - who usually never visited my dreams after the break-up. Each dream oddly relevant. Usually my dreams make no sense, but this time they had the actual fears and horrors of real life. Failed relationships that stay in the shadows of the waking hour. But the apartment where I live I am constantly reminded of those two things; a family I never had and the failed relationship and the opportunity to see what a normal functional family looks like. There's several houses around the apartment-complex, each filled with gardens and families barbecuing in their backyards. It is a world I've never known and I find it also very strange.

And perhaps my lack of sleep has started to affect my psyche, since I haven't been quite as well as I was previously. But that is my fault entirely. Lack of sleep makes you more prone to depression.

*

I still haven't finished my DIY-books, -fireplace and other smaller projects. And yet I keep adding more into the "unfinished projects" -piles: a vase with fruits and skulls. Inspired from the TV-series Hannibal. I think one was shown in the 2. season, somewhere in the last episodes dinner-scenes. I'm feeling too lazy to start searching for the particular picture.