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