Jesus Christ pose

I hate having to decide whether the day is good or bad straight after the driving lesson. All I can say is that I’m scared of failure and the past couple of lessons have been horrid and I can’t help seeing it as a kind of failure. So the days have been bad. But today was ok, I think it's because we drove for 45min instead of 1h30min. I get overexhausted very quickly whilst driving. Still not used to roundabouts and I'm scared of curves. I wonder when I'll be doing the practical exam. Hopefully before summer, because I've had enough of driving. Just want to put it behind me as soon as possible.

Since I've quit the tablets, I feel extremely freer. My mind's not blocked anymore and I can't stop writing my mind down. Many creative thoughts and pictures appear in my head and I've started to pay attention to them as well as care about them. The only bad thing is that I have trouble sleeping again. My eyes are wide open as soon as I lay myself down. It takes me up to 3 hours to fall asleep and I keep waking up in the middle of the night. I've started to dream more than usual as well. And the dreams are usually the cause that I wake up. Not because they are disturbing, but because they are loud for some reason; so the noises in my dreams keep waking me up.

Nine Inch Nails are playing at the Hurricane Festival. The last time they played was in 2005. That's where I got to know some awesome Canadian guy. He even left me his collection of The Hitchhiker's Triology (which I still haven't read). His name was Matt and I often think about him. I don't know why. I just hate the fact that we never swapped email or numbers. All I know is that he's from Montréal and that he's ace at building up tents. It doesn't take him more than five minutes. I hope he's alright and that one day I'll meet him again (well I don't know how high the chances are). That's a perfect example of people coming in your life and then disappear a few minutes later. But they are special when you never forget them. Canada is definitely on my list, especially the French part, which is why I want to freshen up my French again.

I want to stand on my feet and take a deep breath, then stretch my arms and look up at the sky. And after three days I will be a different person. A better and stronger person.

Load it

The snow touched the tip of my nose and the wind was blowing against my ears. Not very spring-like at all. Tired of seeing traffic lights...if they were only more colourful. Driving includes accelerating, hitting the brakes and re-starting the engine. There are no changes anywhere close to happening. And the lights should be off when you're not in the room. Photos had been taken years ago. Looking at them brings back memories. Now ask me why I never take pictures. Now the wind has stopped and you can light a cigarette. The same old taste. It's time for a new brand. Your confidence is kept in a marble for a kid to toss. Win! But it wasn't you. Kids are stronger. Tired of playing with money...only your moral left to lose. Told you so. You and me alone. What should we do and what should we not. I will be spontaneous, you careful. One step can ruin everything. The will is stronger. You know what you do, but I do not. The flower has changed colour. There is only one lesson to learn. Seize the day. Enjoy the air you breathe, the food you eat and the hands you hold. Check your inbox. An ex has searched for you today. Delete and carry on. Control the voices in your body. Watch where they all come from. Know their motives and intentions. Act humanly. Separate the voices. And re-listen another time. Turn everything down. Sit back. Load it, do it. And the voices will be gone.

Bipolar

I don't know who the hell I was...talking about love like that in the previous one. I think I was delirious in some way. Now it's time for the realistic songs...talking about mistakes and realisations. That's more me at the moment. I was very good at driving today. Even my driving instructor had his eyes wide open due to astonishment. I think my entire head is with me now. It's not empty, it's motivated, nevertheless, it's filled with doubt and has perceived certain mistakes that I have done; mistakes that are inevitable when you listen to the voice in your stomach.

I have started to read "As I lay dying" and I'm finding it tough, as it is written in such a lyrical way that I can't be bothered with at the moment. But I should always finish what I've started. No matter how difficult it is. I got myself through bloody Salman Rushdie, so I really shouldn't complain. However, I can do with something that's straightforward.

There are so many things that I want to forget, all the wrongs that I have done. I am so sick of enduring; enduring things that I can't be fucked with. I keep thinking it is so easy to let go, but at the end of the day I'm still holding on tightly even though I don't want to carry on like this. Then I begin to ask myself why do you still do this? And then I answer to myself: Because you are not over it yet. You still haven't learnt what you should have learnt. And you know you will still do the same old mistake again and again.

And it is true. It's like going backwards in time. I still haven't learnt how to move forward. I have no idea what to focus on sometimes and I begin to take steps backwards.

I don't see a point anymore in going to see my doctor, because I just sit there and keep quiet...listen to him preaching about culture and politics. I have given up in trying to express myself to him. I don't need a doctor, but a philosopher. A french one, please. I think they would know how to deal with me. I think they would just tell me to roll a rock up a hill...until I feel tired. Well, that's at least something, isn't it. Whatever, I think I'm just going to dance until I feel exhausted and dazed from the Desperados.

Why did I stop taking the tablets again?

hey foon lei (shubidoo)

So the sun's not out today. A shame really, because I would've gone outside for a nice smoke. One bad thing about being at home is that you can't help sitting in front of the TV. Just because you own one. It wasn't like that in England. I used to spend most of my time reading or writing in the library. There was just nothing else better to do. I never used to be bored; I didn't even know what it meant to be bored. I always had something to do. I used to be busy doing a lot of things.

Well, today's going to be the day where I'm going to stop taking those tablets. You want to know the reason? Ha, it's because they are the cause of me putting on weight easily. It can't be true that you put on weight when only eating two meals a day. I've already cut out on the snacks, so what else could be the reason why I don't lose weight? I run regularly, which makes me feel good about myself, but I'm sort of losing interest. Still running has become a habit. I can't have more than two days without running.

Why am I listening to cheesy love songs... And why am I so close to crying because of them? Am I really so moved...I should be the messenger of love. I keep telling everyone that they will find the one and I know they will. And most of them have already found that someone, which makes me smile, but nevertheless, I think I should quit listening to love songs because they make you feel lonely. But if the songs are lonely themselves, you then feel you and the song would make a good couple.

I was talking to my work colleague yesterday. I don't think she actually likes me, she usually doesn't talk to me much, but yesterday she was being very curious about me and asked whether I had a boyfriend. I think she was more trying to find out about me for somebody. I'm scared of things like this. Usually I'd back off immediately. Anyways, I said I was going to go back to England and she went "Oh no!" Well, why should she care...

Why am I singing "Shubidu uu...shubidu..." Dreaming again I suppose. Oh well, I like giggling like an anime girl. I am not giggling now, but I know that there always is a reason to giggle. This is as optimistic as I can get. Maybe the love songs do help...the lonely love songs I mean.

It feels weird. I feel like I'm in love with someone or something out there. Someone/something that I've never met and don't even know of. I had the same feeling before years ago and it felt good. Just the fact that there is someone or something for all of us.

Shubidoo ooh

Hell to pay

Killwhitneydead. What would I do without this band. Sometimes I wonder how I would have been able to deal with this anger of the past. And sometimes I forget that it is still there. It has been numbed and kept aside. It happens that people tend to poke it and then hold it in front of my face, just so I can see how it is still grinning at me like a clown. Why would you do that for? What are you trying to tell me? I don't even think it's anyone's business. I don't need you to tell me that I'm everything you despise if that's what you're trying to say.
I'm sick of people coming up to me because they need something, because they want to ask me for a fucking favour. I'd do it, yes, but where would they disappear to after? Not even a goodbye, but at least a thank you.
What if I'm not the only one who says that I have hell to pay? But friends and family members tell me that? Does it mean I have serious problems that need to be dealt with? What if I just close my eyes and ears, would they still be there? Oh yeah! Umm well, what to do...err, yeah build a circle and walk round it... The fun thing is it doesn't even make sense what I'm saying here. So all you can do is laugh at it. And I'll laugh with you. After all I don't need you to tell me how to open my eyes, as they are wide open already. You just don't know what the hell goes on behind those eyes. There is one secret I can tell you: which is, I don't see things that I want to see, but I see things that I'm too scared to see. I imagine a spider and there would be one crawling over my fingers. Do you know what it's like? Not being able to control your fear? Oh no, of course not, you're overconfident, you don't need to worry about things like that. Consider yourself as perfect. You are so fucking boring.

Run, Paula, run

And it's Sunday again. The sun's supposed to be out today, which it did for about twenty minutes. It's grey outside now, which makes me even more tired than I already am. The tiredness comes from a dream that I had. I got lost in a huge building, which was (I suppose) a school. I was looking for a certain room, but could not find it. I spent most time running up and down the stairs without knowing where I was going. It was even too tiring for my mind to hold on to that school and all over the sudden it had changed to some sort of a villa. I had opened doors to other people's rooms and they were staring at me as if I was some kind of a robber. I kept running up the stairs as quickly as I could until I fell on my face. That was when I woke up with my heart beating so fast as if I had been physically running, not mentally. I had forced myself to open my eyes because I could not take it anymore. I have no idea what I was looking for, I don't remember. What bothers me is the fact that I was in such a hurry. Usually I'm always in a rush, but in the dream it felt more like a case of life and death.

The weird thing is, when I'm awake I seem to be quite chilled. I don't even want to think of doing something that needs to be done. But I know it is about time. Application forms in English need to be written, new photos need to be taken and a scholaship + other bursaries need to be applied for. But God, something needs to wake me up very badly.
I'm in need of a hug that awakes ancient feelings. Someone that says everything will be ok.

Chinese boxes

Can you see that one doll is missing? You open Chinese boxes in order to find the answer that you are after. But where the fuck is the other one! I once had a nightmare in which I was opening boxes and there would always be another box to open and I couldn't get to the last one. I'm far from the answer and these dolls are proof enough. I can't waste any more time on this.

Closer to God

I feel like getting closer to God, even though I consider myself as agnostic. I don't pray, I don't go to church, but I know there is something that tries to control us all. I have tried to make friends with this special "something", but it doesn't like me. Apart from feeling rejected, I have accepted the fact that all of us are standing alone. You try to believe in something, because you don't believe in yourself. I think that's the reason why certain people go to church. They just need to. Actually it doesn't matter what you believe in. But if you believe strongly enough in God, he will exist and I don't mean just the one God.

There are many mentalists in the world who say that anything can happen, only if you believe. Just like the mentalist I was on about in my earlier blog (the one I called magician). He was certain that he could give us luck, but after all, it was about self-belief. You were the one to make the luck happen to you. Unfortunately, he didn't manage to trick me. I wish he had. Probably he didn't lie to me, but I lied to myself. I thought he had answered my question with a YES, but it was the answer that I wanted to hear. And maybe I didn't believe strongly enough in the answer.

It's funny when a lie can sometimes put a smile on your face. That's when you think everything is just alright.

Changes to be made

I'm listening to Chinese Poprock. There used to be this famous band from Hong Kong called Beyond. They were the reason why I first got into Chinese music. But it's no use when I don't understand a word they sing. The Chinese tend to sing in poetry and use long expressions just to express one single thing. It's a waste of words really, but not in Chinese and I think that's what makes my mother tongue so unique. I don't really regret that I haven't learnt my language properly from the beginning, though. I mean I was born in another world. I would have become such a different person if had been born in Hong Kong. Very often I think about that. Still, I like the me that I have become now.

My doctor says that I have Chinese blood and that will always stand out. That is probably the reason why it had always been so hard for me to adapt to all the other people at school. I was not just standing out, I was isolated. Or I isolated myself, unconsciously. I never really realised that I was a Chinese, I thought I was just like all the others - pale-faced and blonde. It never occurred to me that they saw me with different eyes.

At school it is common to bring sweets when you have a birthday. I used to bring a lot of sweets: chocolate, chewing gum, candy and marshmellows. All packed beautifully in one plastic bag for each single one of them. That was when they paid more attention to me and tried to make friends with me. But the day after they'd have forgotten about the sweets.

I never used to eat at school. I was afraid to eat to be quite truthful. I didn't like people watching me when I ate. This reminds me of Philip K. Dick. He was the same. He found it absolutely barbaric to eat, especially in front of people.
Nowadays, I don't mind it, but I can't eat big food like a kebap or a huge burger in front of a man, because it looks disgusting, totally not feminine. It's a total turn down and I know it. Just imagining the whole sauce around your mouth and salad sticking between your teeth - so disgusting. Generally I get nervous when eating in front of a man. I need to trust them, then it's fine.

It's all about trust and it's starting to piss me off. Why is it so hard to trust people? I used to trust people easily but now...? What's more interesting is, I don't trust this feeling in my stomach, which I call spontaneity and I don't trust the voice in my head, which I call lack of self respect and I don't trust my heart which eventually is self-denial.

This needs to change, but I don't know how.

Honey for the soul

It's a very nice thing to make people smile and for some strange reason I seem to be doing that a lot for some reason. They also manage to make me smile, even though I'd rather have a good laugh. I think the last time I laughed was during my favourite series. I like clever puns and dialogues. I used to write those, too, but I have forgotten how to create such masterpieces.

The weekend was rather nice. I like going out, except for those train journeys to town, because during weekends you'll always encounter young drunk people who would pick on you. I hate going to town on my own at night time. But I did on Saturday night to meet Andreas. And there was this ugly guy sitting next to me and across from us were his two female friends. I was listening to music and could still hear them talking, which pissed me off. I had rather not heard a single word. The girls was making jokes about him, saying he should try to ask me out and he went "I don't want a chink." Well, I don't like the English word "chink", but you have no idea how much worse the German word is. I don't even want to write it down. The last time I got called a chink was in England, when a fifteen year old townie girl threw a full plastic bottle at me, which hit my shoulder blade. I wonder how these people feel. Do they think they are something better? Prettier? More human? Well, whatever makes them feel better about themselves, I don't really care...even though I wish they would die sometimes.

I'm working on a story called "The rain". There are two Londoners (a girl and a boy) who meet at King's Cross station in London. I'm unable to put an end to it. I currently have no inspiration. All I can write are some second class poems, which don't even have the ability to express my inner anguish. I probably don't care enough about it or I'm just simply too unmotivated to deal with it. I have too many questions regarding the unknown... all those might have and could have beens. I'm bad at acting fast and sometimes I can't even comprehend. As if I had Asperger Syndrome. But it's more the lack of concentration. I never used to be like that.

Sometimes I wonder how to feel sexy. But then I only feel sexy during one particular song and I'm happy they always play it at my favourite club Grünspan. I always have to go to request it. And when it comes on I consider the whole dancefloor as mine. "I drink the honey inside your hive...you're the reason I stay alive". Fucking brilliant and sexy on top of it. It's amazing what certain songs can do to you. Daubbing your soul with honey.

msselfdestruct84

I just had a run and feel slightly freer, but not quite. My mind's still locked up like a codeless safe. However, I'm writing again, so why do I moan?

I thought I saw a ghost at work today, but optic deception happens a lot lately. You know what it's like when you see things you wanna see?

There are so many lines on my palm, I wonder what else exciting is going to happen. I need some excitement in my life very badly. I want to react more, look forward to things and get told that I can do it, whatever it is. Because right now I'm unable to tell myself anything. I don't believe in what I say anymore. I seem to be a bigger liar than my ex, which is scary.

I think I've become more conscious than I was before, as if I'm not on "prescribed" drugs anymore. I think I've learnt to control it now. Or has my body adapted to them? Maybe I've learnt by myself how to concentrate. I gotta take this chance to read more. Not for uni, but for myself. Also I need to learn to drive more carefully. For the rest of my life just learning. I do need that. I've become a crappy learner. My brain's not functioning as desired. That's when you wish you had done more in your childhood rather than sitting tight in the chair, doing nothing.

It's going to take a while until life gets brighter...brighter than sunshine? Ah that's a dream. Too many dreams that are unfulfilled. And it's so hard to wake up. As you don't want to wake up. The next step would be to get up and the third would be to make it happen. Too much effort, ey? But what more do we have in life...

I still resent the magician for lying to me. He told us all to ask him a question and send the question to his heart, which I did. Then he told us to close our eyes, because he was sending us the answers. And that's where he lied to me. Bastard. It's childish to believe in magic. Maybe I only sent him the question because I thought it was exciting and because I can be superstitious. But he lied to me anyways.

I got nothing more to say. A dirty old man (who I'd probably slept with in my previous life) once said "These words I write keep me from total madness."

And I feel slightly freer now.