Ms

its 22.07 at L2, the Engineering Computer Lab, which is vastly less depressing then Hallward Library (see previous posts). and its got less humanitites people. Oya suggests dating engineering guys as they are less cuntish, hence im here…hunting. no actually im preparing for a tutorial, but same thing really. (actually i take offence to the use of the word ‘cunt’ as a profanity. i do not understand why its bad to be a woman’s genitilia. or a man’s genetilia for that matter. i mean, if you want to describe someone as vile and horrible, i think other body parts are sufficient. ” he is such a urine.” or “ive never met a bigger booger.”)

little know fact about Me: when i was 5 i was a hypochondriac.

there was this medicated balm my mother had in her possession, which was used mainly for minor to non-existent injuries and which became my best friend and companion. subsequently, whether it was a mild mosquito bite or a bit of redness from the sun, or a light scrape against the wall…i would rub COPIOUS amounts of it on my skin, looking all bereaved and broken. lol.

also, while most kids had their favourite teddy, or favourite security blanket, i adopted a security pillow. it was the smelliest peice of yellow crap which i adored and which was so dear to me, that my mother couldnt even wash it. there are numerous pictures of me clutching the pillow, which was originally blue, looking sullen ( as i never smiled as a kid. the troubles of the world weighed me down.). i never knew what happened to it, but i think its loss is the stem of many of my psychological and physical disabilities.

my sister had an imaginary friend named Maya, like many kids did. oddly, she had recently decided to revive Maya after a 17 year absence (she is 22 now). Sadly, Maya is now a prostitute with a number of sexually transmitted diseases. i feel v bad for her.

yay. 24 people read my rantings yesterday. i feel so….useful

 right. after the trials and tribulations of this week, which my horoscope warned me about, i have decided to make the following resolutions:

1. be healthier. i say this as i feel the inklings of a flu sneaking up on me. not v good, no. ergo, i might sleep properly and eat food when its meant to be eaten.

2. be emotionally detached. since im so effing clingy, the next time im with a guy im going to pretend he does not exist.

3. be happy being flawed. i going to embrace the perfections of imperfections!!! im going to marvel at my mediocracies!! im going to be thrilled being flawed!!! im going to…!!! fuck it. its not going to happen. i have always wanted to be perfect and i will continue striving for that elusive goal to the end of my days.

 

Retrospective: ive got existential issues.

 oh laugh all you want. its true.

 anyway, who wants a countdown??

easter: 2 weeks

exams: 9 weeks.

home: 12 weeks

fuck. thats long. now im depressed.

argh, where do i begin?? i have weird ass psychological problems. it used to be funny, but now its kinda scary. i think i suffer from some serious ego problem because i cannot stand it and can never accept it if someone does not like me. its not so much that a particular person dislikes me, its more that they dislike ME….as if i cannot construe such a thought. chris thinks that whenever a guy breaks it off with me…far too often to even make a joke out of…and when i take it badly, he thinks its due to me getting to attached to them. but really, truth of the matter is, its a blow to my ego. im too fucking proud. im too concerned with perfection. there i said it. i want to be perfect. everyone else can accept mediocracy, but hell no, not me. i want to be what this society understands as being perfect: beautiful, rich, smart, sexy, “nice”, funny, talented, cool, confident. i want it all. and i have it all, but i know i dont. im nuts. i shoudl throw myself off a building. i want to bang my heads repeatedly against the wall becase there is something wrong with me. when i go collect results, my biggest concern is not what i would think of it, but what my dad and everyone else would think of it. when a guy leaves me, my biggest concern is not missing him, its what my friends and other people are going to think of me. i cant stand it!! its horrible!! its a willing burden!! its the worst kind of burden! i have the option to let go of it, but i dont. i want to keep chasing the rainbow and being perfect.

previous post was evil. oh my…..fit of rage…angry angry little girl…tired and not hungry. grrrr. rage issues. severe serious rage issues.

i will have my revenge. my personal vendetta.

the people in my hall who get drunk and become very rudely and unnecessarily noisy when im trying to work. who declare themselves a part of ‘The Fit Crew’….little disillusioned soul-less plebiens who all look the same according to the tips from Cosmospolitan. who worship the Pussycat Dolls for their intelligent and meaningful lyrics. who emulate Sex and the City, for they believe it to be the Holy Grail. who stumble around drunk, sleeping with randoms and being very proud of their nights out and the embarrasing things they do when their drunk. and talk about it the next day, what little they could remeber of it, as if some achievement, that they got so drunk that some of their brain cells got fried, which is why they cant remember….but im sure it wont bother them. it bothers me, they are a sinful waste of space.

then i think….no.

let them be. let them dance every other night, getting drunk, wearing little. cleavage. ass. thighs…deluded over their conventional store bought looks.bearing much, risking dignity and self-pride. let people like me study and work hard. let them have their moment. let them bug me and piss me off with their drunken screams, PCD dreams. let them vomit all over the toilets and not bother cleaning up. let them damage things in the hall, repairing which comes out of MY damage deposit. let them turn their music loud enough to deafen a nation, maybe because as a result of those depleting brain cells there is little left to serve basic bodily functions (like thinking). let them have their little fun, because, i know it and they know it, this is their moment. this is the only point in their lives when they will be significant. one day, Daddys money will run out, and he can only sell so many houses to keep up with the lives they are accustomed to. One day, when they realise that they are smack at the bottom of the business food chain. One day, when they realise their plastic faces serve no purposes other then being a cardinal misuse of space. Then i will eat them alive. i have this dream…all these people who piss me off with their drunkeness…they will work for me one day. and, God, ill make their lives hell. they shall clean my toilets - the one i choked up getting sick into. i shall run around screaming drunk, when they have to sleep in order to wake early to proceed to their menial jobs which keep them alive. i will have my vengence. i always do. if there is one thing constant in this life…those who mess with me, tend to regret.

 do i sound v manical? these bastards, these slimy little bastards from my hall, have been noisy. which does not make it easy to fall asleep, especially when i had coffee at the wrong time. if i lose sleep, it wrecks my day. and when my day is wrecked, its not a good thing because i, unlike them, have more important things to do. like now. as a result of last nights lack of sleep, and todays all day working in the library, i slept at 730 and woke at 11pm. not good when i have to finish preping for a tutorial tomorrow.

fuck being condescending. i know nobody has a ‘right’ to think they are better then anyone. but there are some people who just are, and who strived to be better. and who should look down on those slimeballs. id hate it if someone belittles me, but i did nothing to deserve it. those fuckwits do.

hi

pending to my previous post on my perfect funeral, i think i want another song played (other then “the long day” by NJ, which MUST be played”). that would be Somewhere over the Rainbow by Iz. which i downloaded yesterday and have heard about 37 times since i got it. it is a lovely song, and i feel a comforting sense of release when i listen to it. and if i close my eyes, and pretend im not here and didnt exist in this world i was meant to be in, i pretend im on this beach all by myself, as if time and life never happened.

is it disturbing that ive planned my funeral till the last detail before ive even planned my wedding? i think not! if my birth was celebrated, i demand that my death be too! i reiterate: i came in with a bang, and i will leave with a bang. in fact, i refuse to die of a disease. i want to be murdered in a fit of passionate fury OR doing one of the exciting things on my to do list. speaking of which, ive complete 9 1/2 things out of 42 in about 5 years. i created this list when i was 15. some of the things are stupid. some are amazing. some are just downright impossible. but it will be done.