8 posts tagged “insane”

I was just looking up the etymology of things (as I do) and I came across this little note ... I really liked it, but I don't know why ... I think it reminds me of Curious Incident:

"something complex may be well-organized and logically constructed as well as subtle and intricate, while a thing that is complicated will have something irregular, perverse, asymmetrical in addition to fundamental intricacy; complex is more formal and technical (a problem in mathematics is complex) while something like personal life can be complicated"

Yep. Flowers are complex. My life is complicated. But I love it. Life is really good to me.

Only one thing wrong at the moment ... exams. Soon. And I'm not studying. And I can't study. And I have 2 SACs on Monday. And when the exams are over there will be no more school.
Ever.
For 13 years, I have wanted school to be over, but now, with the prospect looming before me like the rim of the world ... I'm scared. I don't want to have to leap off the edge and test my wings. I want to stay in my nice little sheltered world, surrounded by friends and comforting routine.
Oh god. I don't even worship any god, but it seems the most appropriate "expletive" at this time. Oh why not go the whole hog. Oh fucking shit. I don't want school to be over. I don't want to go to Uni. I don't even want a stupid Gap year. I don't want to go to New Zealand. I don't want to work. I just wish it could stay the same.
I hate change.
There's always change.
I know we need change if things are to improve but ... arg
Oh fuckety shit shit shit.

Okay I'm done being worried now. Life is goooooooooooooooooooood. Everything is going to be juuuust fine. Sometimes I love being bipolar. It's kinda neat. I love everything. I love you all sooooooooooo much! :D

LMAO Look, funny adds on the side of my page! "Your Photos in 3D" "Egg and Bacon Pie" "Shakespeare Dolphin Hotel" hahahahaha, the latter ...

Wow, I really need sleep. I think the walls just started meeeelting.
Wheeee!

Clowns: delightful or terrifying?

When I was young, I enjoyed the clowns at the circus. They were funny. But then I grew up and there were more and more scaryscary clowns with dead, staring eyes and an air of idiopathic psychopathic insanity just itching for a chainsaw ...
So yes, I will say they are terrifying.

On another note, WHY am I sick on a WEEKEND?
Clearly that is unfair. Particularly as I want to do work but can't concentrate because I feel like something a cat sicked up.
Also, on an interesting and possibly disturbing side note, I had a first today - I woke up with a blood nose. I've woken up crying, screaming (who hasn't?), suffocating and covered in blood, but I've never had a blood nose at night.
Anyway.
Yeah.
People never respond to emails (Except for Marie of course). It's somewhat annoying.

Well, today I found a dead cockroach in my shoe, and I must have killed it and been walking on it. EEEEEEEEEEEEEWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEK!!
I was hyperventilating so hard I nearly passed out. I'm rather good at hyperventilating. I want a prize.
Also, my zero for part two of the bio SAC is NOT going to change. It is alternately my fault (wtf?) or a "learning experience" - WHAT? It's year 12! This is like, the only time in my life where I will be in a situation like this and the only time when it would actually matter - what is there to learn??
Aaaaaanywho, today was still a good day. Beyond good. Brilliant. Defribulationgly autosomally infrandessent. Squee! Jajajajajaja
William thought that Jess and I were on LSD. Just because we were sitting on the floor, half under the table, whispering conspiratorially about a song we had listened to and laughing like pictsies and being generally insane. Jeez, suspicious bastard ... ;D
I was in lit and I spun around in circles cos I was happy and then I was laughing so hard that I fell over and whacked my head on the ground really hard. HA! Hehehehhehe
And it was a nice day
And summer is coming
And dun dun dun de dun, dun dun dun de dun
etcetera
which is not spelt excreta
nor is faces spelt faeces
do do do de do, dum te, dum te dum
Spider pig spider pig, does whatever a spier pig does, can he swing from a web, no he can't cos he's a pig...
Tum tum la de da...
Jolly good, eh what? The word 'Ah!' can be just as sinister and devastating as the word 'Ho!'
I wanted to say something funny, but at the moment everything is funny so I think my judgement may be a tad skew-whif
Therefore you shall have to wait until the morrow for any sense.

Or, well, you know what's always funny? Comments on Youtube ... I adore youtube, but the people who comment on it seem to be some kind of transgenic sheep-human hybrids.
No, I'm sorry, that was mean. They've been doing experiments and have proved that sheep are actually quite intelligent. And they do tend to care about other sheep. Shall we say that they are trained octopi? Octopi can probably type, and though people say they are smart, they base their assertions on the fact that their behaviour can be modified using classical and operant conditioning. HUH?! SO CAN A COCKROACH'S! Seriously, anything more complicated than an aomeba can have it's behaviour modified ... does that mean that my french teacher is less intelligent than an aomeba? We can never seem to change her mind ... we'll argue with her for half an hour, valid and reasonable points which she blatantly misunderstands and rejects with the same disgustingly repetitive, invalid points that have nothing to do with anything, and at the end of it we give up trying to communicate because WE have learned something - that trying to argue with her is like repeatedly smashing your head against a solid wall. Thus my hypothesis is proved - french women are made out of bricks. Therefore bricks can make cheese. Therefore bricks are wonderful. Therefore I shall start throwing bricks at everyone I see, just to prove how much I care about them all. Share the love, everybody! Share the love ... even if you have STD's, because discrimination is WRONG.
The end.

Arleej prowled across the sand. Her hair was matted and filthy. The sand got everywhere. And I mean everywhere. How much longer could she endure this torture? Surely she had died and this was hell. What other explanation was there? The endless, hungry days, the impossibly cold and miserable nights, the sunburn reddening her brow, the chapped lips, but worst of all the all pervading thirst.

The sun was just beginning to set. The clouds turned brilliant orange, deepening as she watched. With a sigh, she turned towards the trees. If she could make a nest of leaves, she might not die of hypothermia tonight. Maybe. Her insides ached.

The huge, waxy leaves were surprisingly fragile. She made a platform of them across the ground, then went hunting for dry grasses to insulate her. She grabbed a tussock. But … what was that? There, half hidden in the sand, some kind of wooden box. She quickly scraped the sand away to free it from its grave. As she held it up in the dying light, she could just make out that it was covered in strange symbols. Runes of some kind. She traced one with her finger. It was completely encrusted in sandy soil; she rubbed it off impatiently. As she did so, her fingers began to tingle. She hesitated. The box was pulling at her with an almost magnetic force. Such a pretty box. Deep red, like mahogany, rippled with rings and warps. Here a symbol like a flowing flame, or maybe a teardrop. There ripples, as if someone had thrown a rock into a wooden pond. Fascinating. Beautiful. Around her, the trees faded into insignificance. The world was filled with carved pictures and electric tingles. Calling her. Consuming her.

And all the world

was red.

Arleej awoke slowly. The fog of dreams still hung heavily over her head. The earth smelt damp. There was cold sweat on her neck. Where am I? She wondered. Then she thought, God, that is so clichéd. Then, like the decent adventurous character that she should be, she opened her eyes and sat up. She was in some kind of park. The lawn was cropped short, the trees carefully maimed into aesthetically pleasing shapes. There was a park bench in front of her with fancy wrought iron legs. There was a sign propped up against it in a language Arleej couldn’t translate, but the betting’s were high that it said “Caution: wet paint”. Only one way to find out … Arleej reached out a grubby finger to touch the woodwork. Sure enough, it was sticky with a fresh layer of sky blue. Sky blue that was now on her finger. Arleej rolled her eyes at herself. Curiosity killed the cat …

Her attention suddenly snapped back to the box. (Whoo, the box! All mysterious and … ok, I really need to go to sleep. I have a headache and my brain is so completely dead. I can’t even remember how I started this paragraph. I don’t even know who I AM anymore. Oh, hehe, I think that was the point … dunno why … I’ll get back to you on that one. Hey, what? The llamas just stole my monkey. Why’d I say monkey? Monkey makes no sense. I wanted to say sandwich. I wannsanwich wers mi monki? Needa monkey push hands monkey throws crap crap throwning monkke hehehehheh umm yes EAR EAR *sob* whut? NOOOOOOOOO eachembudallomie, sunderland and philland and wha?! < maks and emocon on  thinky woaassa um yeh. Yeh. Um. Msn. Thss the bugger. Um! SHRIMP! Ew … seafood …. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!!!!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! Whot the FUCk I need anew fucking brian I brokw my brain thers blood on the floor HEY! I got through this whole night and I didn’t cut myself! How friggin awesome was that what

Hmm piggybank

EAR ERARARARAREEAR EAR hurts gaoddanm frikkin

Black fingernails, re wineRAMBLERAMLBE hehe

Fuck.

Ok

Well

I’m

I don’t wanna sleep if I go to sleep I’ll die

Fuck

Oh hell

I don’t wanna brush my teeth, im nearly out of toothpaste and

Ar

Um

Hehe autocapital

NO YOU PISSANT GO TO BED YOU son of a silly person I fart in your general direction your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of ELDERBERRIES!

Hehe

Follow me close for I shall speak to them. Gentlemenn goodeen couple it with something make it a word and a blow I like CCCCCHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESE

Um

Yeah

Blue cheese and brie and camembert and this kind of red cheese that you get and this cheese we tried that had lavender in and tasty and chedar but not ricotta unless its in lasagne dad makes good lasagne without tomato meat hm I don’t what I um yes.

No

Yes

Um

Screw ti all im going to bed

Hey, I can post this on vox and people can sit there and think … okay, she’s completely lost it … I really wish I knew where the councillors office is right now … stupid school not considering the mental wellbeing of students … ‘cept th ones who do hehe mr imam (hey this is me now not u right) told me that I could came and interrupt his classes whenever I want. Snick snick snikc

*bashes head on wall*

You can’t cut yourself with ice or terracotta. Just in case you needed to know. Also, maths is easy. Also, I have  a headache did I meantion thet id I sleep ill die dargh

Um

Tteeeht teeth brush right

GOODNIGHT ALL

also I need to finish the story sometime

I arrived at Jess’s house 15 minutes late and found her running around with an impressive amount of eye shadow on. I quickly found my way to the kitchen, where I set myself about the traumatic task of helping myself to chips, lollies and cake (clearly I was starving, only having had a large breakfast and 5 lamingtons, strawberry milk and chips for lunch). I was soon forced away from my beloved food in order to put on make up, a task which I am decidedly crap at. Marie and Gity arrived (looking stunning!) and Marie (the dominatrix) pinned me down and smothered me with make up. Luckily she managed to avoid jabbing me in the eye, although she came close a few times. Then they put my hair up and sprayed it with so much hairspray that when I took out the hair band later that night – or morning, by that stage – my hair stayed in a ponytail. Scary! (I needed a LOT of conditioner to get it back to normal)

Once we were all “frocked up” (as the adults say) we stood around for photos. Lots and lots and lots of photos.

When we were ready to leave I realised that I had no jacket and I was going to freeze, so Gail was kind enough to lend me (ie. Force me to take) a jacket.

We got there on time, soon realising that a) guys generally arrive on time and b) girls don’t. Without my glasses all those guys crammed together looked very much like emperor penguins, huddling together for warmth over the long winter months … although it was much warmer in than out and I was soon abandoned Gail’s jacket. We managed to find our  table and eventually everyone turned up. Everyone was beautiful. Except the people who we don’t like, obviously. Gity didn’t believe me that people look even more beautiful when they’re all fuzzy and out of focus than for people like her, who don’t need glass eyes. One day she will be a half blind bat like me, and THEN she will see! Muahahahah! HAHAHAHAHAHA! HHHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeee!!!!! Er … what?

Yes. Well.

The meals were a precision affair, being served on the dot and cleverly timed so that every time you went out to dance you got cramp. That aside, dancing was fun. I immediately abandoned my shoes, and was just as immediately reprimanded by Mr Imam, who came out to dance. Watching him dance was … well … Mr Ross summed it up with “he’s a freak.” (Mr Ross uses “freak” where most people would use “amazing” or “incredible”, but says it in a way that suggests that he hates people. Which he doesn’t. He often assures us that he loves us and that we’re all pathetic.)

Back to dancing … Gity’s a great dancer, as you know. This time she danced with Roger. Ha. Ha. Ha. (and here I am deliberately moving on and NOT discussing Roger and Phil and Gity and Gity’s mum and…)

The entrée was sausage rolls and party pies and chicken legs dipped in satay sauce, all of which I covered in soy sauce. As you do. And there were fish sticks (ew) under which APPARENTLY there were SPRING ROLLS of which I was NOT INFORMED. HEM HEM.

And the main course was chicken schnitzel with weeds and some little thing in pastry which looked like tomatoes which I avoided. This was plonked on something which I was told was meant to be risotto but was really just corn mash pretending.

The vegetarian was exactly the same as ours, minus the schnitzel. Jeez.

The desert was chocolate cake or strawberry cheesecake. Noice.

Oh, and in the middle of the table was a glass full of non-alcoholic liquid (disappointing) and little pokey glassy beadies. And some were floating. Glass shouldn’t float. I picked one out and admired it and when I put it back in, it sank. (Even more disappointing). Josh took one out and solved the conundrum – “It’s not glass. It’s plastic.” Ahh. Well then. It was the little bubblies on the outside. I dropped rose petal around and in it and we took photos. It was fascinating and beautiful. At the end of the night there was a whole TRAY FULL of them. Lovely pretty … I took out some of the non-glass things to keep because it was so pretty … sorry … got a bit sidetracked …

Aaaannnd … yeh. Marie got drunk on nothing and started throwing her gloves around and hitting on Mr Schlosser EWWWWW.

And probably stuff happened but by that point I was well out of it.

So yeah.

No, Marie, this was not worth waiting for as you can see. The reason for that is that I completely forgot about this. It’s been, what, 2 weeks? Chickenfeed. Chook. Brrrk brrk buk buk.

Scuie, gotta go now. PPPPPPPPPPIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP PPPPPPPPPPPPPPIIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPPPPPPP

Signed,

Completely Offthe Rails

Today was my "seriously screwed in the head" day.

On the way to school in the bus, I cried. Not for any particular reason. I just did. Got to school. Hugged AJ. Explained that there wasn't actually anything wrong, I was just fucked in the head. Went to locker. Hugged Marie. Went and sat in scitech. Curled up into a little ball and shook uncontrollably. Let voices wash over me. Went to locker. Hugged Gity. Got books, went to bio. Rested head on arms. Got patted on back. Tried to sleep. Couldn't. Felt like crying. Teacher said "Stephanie, sit up." but I couldn't. She said "Either sit up or go." I went. Signed in at senior centre. Very nearly cried. Went and sat in scitech and skimmed over Hamilton Case. Went to french. Couldn't stop shaking. Rested head, dozed. Sun warmed my foot. Shaking diminished. Went to toilet. Went to Lit. Accepted sympathy from Jess. Pretended to follow reader while eyes were closed. Stopped shaking. Wished bell would go. Bell went. Went to scitech. Curled up on sofa. Started shaking again. Explained to Josh that I was, in fact, shit. Went back to lit. Scribbled some random shit onto a page. Felt better. Bell went. Went to scitech. Organised Jess's minimao cards into black, white white white black repeating. Watched Josh solving 5 by 5 rubix cube. Went and found Marie. Played Minimao. It was funny. Marie lost because she got cards when she swore. Laughed. Felt considerably improved. Signed in. Completely wasted free period with Gity. Did not find 9 letter word, did score well on quiz. Left early. Came home. Wasted time. Played hangman. Lost. Explained to AJ's friend about food intolerance.

Changed MSN name to "screwed in the head".

Wrote this.

Feeling considerably better. Should be able to get through tomorrow w/o crying.

Remind me to explain to Mrs Fuller why I left. Besides the fact that she's a bitch.

Finally managed to motivate myself to go out for a walk and came back with a hellish headache. And it all becomes crystal clear to me now. The sleep changes, the irritability, the mood swings, the kilo lost in the past week because I simply haven't wanted to eat, the insane poetry, the self - inflicted bite mark on my arm, the fact that I'm going to gouge out the eyes of the next person who comes in here to tell me to F&^%*$g DO something because I F&^%*$g CAN'T, I CAN'T make myself do anything and haven't been able to for a couple of weeks now.
Yet another food item I have to cross off my list.
Seems perfectly obvious now, of course, and you would think I would have spotted the signs much earlier. But, you know, it's not something separate from me, not something I can pin down or isolate. It's ME that changes, the way I think, the person who I am.
It's hard to explain to someone who hasn't experienced some form of mental illness, but it's just something that you can't help.
In my case, of course, the cure is simple - I can't eat BBQ sauce anymore.
Because it has tomatoes in.
And it's totally screwed up my serotonin levels, and thus my brain.
Why does it have to F&^%*$g be F&^%*$g ME?!
Why do I deserve this?
My life SUCKS.
And I think I'm going to cry now.
And this is because of the F&^%*$g food.
I feel like shit.

To my friends: if I don't turn up on Monday, or if I yell at you or scream or cry, it's not my fault, ok?
I'll be better soon.
Just give me a few days and a pillow to punch.