"Wandering companionless among the stars"

(Copyrights belong to me)

I thought about updating the current state of my social life. I haven't written anything about it since there's nothing to write about. Already 28 years old, only one real-enough relationship behind me, and even that lasted about a year. The common trait with me and people I've liked is that the feelings of affections were always unanswered - like with the first and last relationship I had. One-sided loves and me being used in some form or another. And now I've been by myself for the last four years. At first I craved for someone, not anymore. I've spent most of my life alone and you can get used to that. It takes time but you can find peace with it. I've never had any luck with other people, I don't know how to interact with others, and although I try to be kind and polite, it's not enough. It's no one's fault. I lack something other people have and cannot form relationships with anyone.

Still I managed to learn that one problem is me being asexual, which I've written about before. I suspect sexuality has something to do with interacting romantically with others. Like I've written before, it doesn't affect how I care for other people, but without it I probably lack some of the tools to interact with people I might be interested in. It shouldn't affect friendships yet I cannot seem to form even those.

Now I lack the energy and mostly the will to get to know other people. Even if I knew how, I feel too tired for that. Most of the time I feel like I don't even want that. But there have been few times when I have thought about it. But that's about it. It feels odd to read and hear about people's lives when they write about their romances and their social life. I can barely imagine what it's like.

So about four years now without almost any social life. Thankfully I have my siblings and few close friends to keep me sane enough. But no romances, no dating, no new friends, nothing. It doesn't bother me anymore, after all you can get used to it. I feel that it's part of my life. What I never had, I cannot miss.

(Copyrights belong to me)

"The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep"

 Old pictures from years long since passed.

(Young forest near one of my old walking routes, I wonder how tall the trees are by now) 

(More trees, less scenery. I tend to notice details more. Old route, dear route.)

(Small stream in the forest - man-made stream but beautiful, since it had life of its own)

I'ts been years since I've done anything interesting or fun.

Many years ago I have been laying on a frozen field, covered in snow, middle of the night, under the stars and the moon. Just watching the sky above.

I have walked to a small isle in the middle of the river, went to the east end to watch the sun rise after a sleepless summer night.

I have climbed the highest trees and hills, watched the scenery of thousand trees and far way glimmering lakes.

I have followed unknown roads and paths to see where they would lead me.

I have done that and much more. Small things compared to many, but meaningful and enjoyable things. And it's been years since I've done them. I am always so tired that I cannot do anything now. 

(Tiny piece of my favourite route.)

"Elgara vallas, da'len, Melava somniar, Mala taren aravas Ara ma'desen melar"

(Copyrights belong to me)

Trying out different medications. Unable to work at the moment, but need to return back within two weeks time. Trying to relax, played some games, but all is for naught with this anxiety, which I blame on my medication. Different medication and different way it works in me. Difficult to write about it, but I hope few minor adjustments would help me get back where I was if not help me get a bit better.

But it is tough to abandon all your future dreams and ambitions. I must admit that this is my life now, and who knows it will be my life for the rest of my life. There might be no way for me to get any better. Depression had become such a large part of me, like a cancer - sorry about the metaphor cancer-patients, but it feels fitting to call it that. I guess only depressed understand other depressed people.

Anyway, there's not much to write about. with the sudden bursts of energy I managed to start painting few paintings, but all of it has to wait till I feel better with this anxiety that takes all my time and energy.

"Undead, undead, undead"

I'm still alive. Perhaps one day I will update something in here, but I haven't felt like writing for quite some time now. I was surprised to see that there's been 10 000 visitors in my blog, which is unnerving and interesting at the same time. I doubt there's much anything of interest in the contents yet I do like sharing blogs and such. Especially the ones where people have made things with their own hands, DIY-projects, Halloween-stuff and all kinds of things. So perhaps I will share some of my projects in the (near) future. To put some more content in this blog.

Oh, and what happens when Jill Tracy and "Bauhaus" combine musical talents: Click to youtube music video "Bela Lugosi's dead".

"Incurable lover of the grotesque”

"Drawing is the honesty of the art. There is no possibility of cheating. It is either good or bad." - Salvador Dali

*

I'm still wanting to learn tattooing, but since my energy has dropped very low, my practicing has come to a halt. I copied several pictures with all kinds of subjects and coloured them with colour pencils, and even tried out the fake-leather and few fruits, but now I am finding difficulties to take care of myself and my all-day chores. I was given a bigger dosage for my medication, and there's a plan to change the medication if nothing improves, so I am waiting to get my energy back one way or another.

Here's few drawings I made from pictures I found. There's
some differences with the original pictures. There's bound to be some differences since the artist is different and has a different style. Also the more details some pictures have the more difficult it becomes to copy, and at that time I just improvise. Not all leafs or branches need to be exactly at the same spots and sometimes you think that the picture looks better without something or add something to it, to make it look better for your needs. I do have ideas of my own, of course, you might have seen the ink-drawings and paintings all around this blog.



Also I did use photographs besides drawings and paintings as models for these images. A crucial part of portraying people and animals is using photographs as models. It's not enough to just copy them, you need to be able to draw people just by looking at them, to know how to draw their anatomy. Copying without really seeing and understanding how for example arms are attached to the torso or not measuring the limbs to fit to their natural places creates horrid looking mistakes.





As you can see, these pictures were photographed, not scanned, so the quality looks a bit blurry. I am the most laziest photographer after all. No good light at these pictures. And scanning seemed to take too much effort. Also the size of each drawing is very small. In the pictures below, the paper size is A3.

After I get my energy back, and I can continue practicing, I'll make more pictures that are more my own making. This was a good way to get to know the different styles and how to make them and colour them. If this becomes something more, I would want to be able to do as much of different styles as possible. There are some styles I do not like as much, and feel reluctant to even try, but still I want to learn as much as possible. I really hope this works out somehow. I don't have many options left.

This Haunting feeling of The End.

(Copyrights mine)

I've been haunted by this peculiar feeling of ending. I don't know if it is simply my imagination or what, but for at least a year now it has been moving around in my head. It feels like my life is coming to an end, or maybe it is the world or humanity that's ending. Or it might be just all in my head. But these odd sensations come and go or float around behind my eyes, and I keep waving them away like pesky flies, but they keep coming back.

*

When I read and hear about people's happiness, it makes me want to hurl. I remember happiness, I do. And the logical side is glad about other's happiness, but one thing that has been growing, raising and descending is hate. Hate towards me and everyone and no one. It's not surprising that I am still this sloppy mess of a person with these messy feelings and sensations that make sense in a mad world. A hacked up sack of meat, pretending to be alive, that's what I am. Different sensations keep haunting me and I try to remember to write them down. Perhaps I will understand it all someday. Perhaps I will heal, forgot and cannot understand a word I have written.

"Outside The circus gathering - Moved silently along the rainswept boulevard. The procession moved on - the shouting is over - The fabulous freaks are leaving town. They are driven by a strange desire - Unseen by the human eye. The carnival is over."

Feeling alright still. Hopefully this sticks this time around.

Unfortunately I'm still feeling rather inefficient with doing my chores and duties.

I should be reading for the entrance exams, and the reading-material has already been announced and here I am, just sitting. I don't know where I can conjure up the energy to study.

And my tattoo-practicing is so slow. Even if my head is feeling alright, I wish I could find my energy and motivation. It doesn't matter what time of day it is or how well I've slept, I can't seem to get anything done. All my energy goes into working my lousy day-job. If I can't find the energy to even cook or clean, how the hell am I supposed to study anything.

It boggles the mind.

Time is a misty vortex

I haven't been thinking about the biological father- matter for weeks. I've been more concentrated on surviving from day to day, especially since my mood seems to go from one extreme to another in a steady rhythm. I don't really care who's my father, since the parents I have now are no good, and I don't need any more of the same in my life. Perhaps if I ever feel better enough I might want to get to know my biological father - if that is actually true - but as long as I can't get my head to work, it might not be a good idea to drag anyone else into this mess. I find barely any strength to keep contact with my siblings and friends. But I might change my mind. After all nothing seems to change in my mental-state it might be just the same to do things rather than wait for years or a lifetime for me to get better. I truly doubt I will ever get better. I am already accustomed to the mess inside my head that I am starting to doubt my hazy memories of normality. Was it ever true or all a figment of my imagination. I could swear I was once normal, at least to a degree, but now it is nothing but chaos.

I'm sick and tired with my head. Off with my head, I'd say.

"Into the hole again, we hurried along our way, into a once-glorious garden now steeped in dark decay."

“I wonder if I've been changed in the night. Let me think. Was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is 'Who in the world am I?' Ah, that's the great puzzle!”

- Alice in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll.

*

When I heard the news, I was in a shock and filled with disbelief - I still am. It's not a bad news, it doesn't make me feel anything particular, but I felt like I was suddenly whisked away from the familiar reality and dropped into a hole that leads to Wonderland. Equally bizarre and sudden it was.

For the man who raised me is not - claimed by my untrustworthy mother - my biological father. After almost a 30 years of living I find about it now. So suddenly, without any kind of hints. The mental-image of dropping into a rabbits hole and falling through to another kind of world seems accurate. Thus the pictures, although some of their dark nature doesn't cascade my feelings, but when you say "Alice", I see the bony-grin of Dark Horses "Alice"-game series Cheshire cat.

This shocking bit of news doesn't make me sad. It could liberate me from the painful notion of never being able to get any kind of love nor approval from my father, so I could be free from that mess in my head. No pressure, no shame and no sorrows.

I haven't yet gotten any confirmation from someone else, so in the most extreme case-scenario I might have to cut my ties with both of my parents, unless 'tis is true and they both are willing to speak it truthfully. Otherwise, if there's any claims by either one that the other one is lying, I think I have had enough. But it will be seen soon enough, how they want to handle this.

My mother handled it bad enough already, for she told about that secret to almost everyone else before she told me. My oldest brother knew about it two years ago and my younger siblings had to keep quiet about for a year, until they were forceful enough to make our mother tell the truth to me. At first I was willing to accept that it was handled poorly, slipped (most likely not) accidentally in a conversation but after I found out that my older brother knew about it even sooner, I started to think, why do I even bother socializing with the people who are responsible for the bad state of my mental health. I am truly starting to doubt if severing all ties might be the answer to getting better. I have been too polite and too kind-hearted to continue this charade for as long as I have. I will observe what my parents do. And if there's even a hint of manipulation or lies, I would be more than happy to leave them. After all I have been without their support or help for almost all my life, and even if I would need support or help in the future, I know they would never give either of those things. All they can do is spread poison all around them, and then try to make me feel guilty for disliking them.

Alice: "Wonderland's become quite strange. How is one to find her way?"

Cheshire Cat: "As knowing where you're going is preferable to being lost, ask. Rabbit knows a thing or two, and I, myself, don't need a weathervane to tell which way the wind blows. Let your need guide your behaviour; suppress your instinct to lead; pursue Rabbit."

*

The Daylight washes away the Filth over the Sky - and the Ravens cry in the distance.

 (Copyrights belong to me)

The reality slips into dream, and the dreams slip into reality. The world becomes unreal drop by drop and then it pulls back and everything is solid again. 

A ghost, a piece of paper, painted wall and my hand can't get through. It is a stage. Unreal. All the actors are unreal and I am the only audience.

(Copyrights belong to me)

The therapist said something that surprised me, that depressed often feel like they are living inside a bubble. I didn't know others felt the same. I have often imagined it to be a glass-box rather than a bubble. The first time I felt that way was in my early teens. Of course it is not a constant feeling. It comes and goes. Now a days I have new kinds of feelings about everything, which isn't an improvement.

 (Copyrights belong to me)

Besides struggling with my head and the reality I've been drawing tattoo-pictures. It's a subject I don't want to write about much, until I am ready to share more. Anxieties make the progress slower, so writing about small steps forward is a waste of time. I started by getting acquainted with the machine, and now I am warming up and practicing the style of drawing you need to use to make tattoos. Next step would be practicing with the machine, but as I said, I am moving very slowly, as much as the anxieties let me. Too much, too soon makes me distressed. I don't know why. I guess I feel a pressure to make something of myself. Everyone is making something of themselves. All my plans and dreams have scattered and slipped away, and now I am trying to grasp at anything to give my life a meaning. Without a meaning life is more difficult to bare.

                                                                                                (Copyrights belong to me)

"Though Darkness closes, I am shielded by Flame."

There's a thousand things to write down, and yet the thoughts elude me when I sit down to lead them here - into more coherent form than rising and descending wave of thoughts.

This wave of thoughts and moods are what have made me think about bipolar-disorder, and if I might have the symptoms. It might be just coincidence or my imagination, but it does seem that I can't beat my depression. I won't go to many details about it, but there has been some "up's" beside the "downs". And there has been few incidents that I haven't paid much attention to. It's usually said, that you can recover from depression in about half a year, but I have been like this for two years already. Maybe longer than that. It's been two years since I went to the doctor asking for help with my exhaustion et cetera.

My therapist called the depression as a helper - that reveals the things you need to correct and heal. Interesting thought, but for me this has been more like a demonic possession.

There was only Chaos, Corruption and Dead Whispers. For I have seen the Throne of the Gods, and it was Empty.

(I haven't watched any series at late, but I do wait for the 3. season of The Hannibal-series.)

It is anger that keeps me warm when outside the frost clings to the trees. I don't know what the anger is about or to who it is toward to, but I can feel it bubbling inside me. It has suffocated the previous anxieties and gloominess, but who knows for how long this time.

I'd rather be angry at life than depressed. At least when you're angry, you feel a bit more like a living person instead of a ghost.

I do fear that this uplift mood might turn against me by forming into mania. But I get scared at times anyway, the trick is not to think about all the "what if's".

Homo homini lupus est

(Copyrights are mine)

*

Shortly, since I don't feel like writing: money-troubles, medication working, but sleep-rhythm has gone awry. Ravens follow me everywhere, which is like a sign. At least it's getting a tad ridiculous.

I explored and adventured Thedas in Dragon Age: Inquisition. I won't write a review, since I dislike reviews and it takes a bit more time to write whatever I might want to write about it. Just saying that it was pretty much what I expected from Bioware. Amazing sequel. How it fares on its own, is controversial, I'm sure, but with the previous parts combined make it amazing. Totally worth it.

And I'm starting slowly planning my next step in the actual, real life. I bought supplies to start learning how to tattoo. It's the one road I thought, I would never follow, but I don't have a lot of options. Even if it wouldn't work out, I have to try.

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. 

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 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:

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.

"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