People keep telling me, I am not like others. Most certainly not like other girls. Many tell me I am crazy and laugh, while I agree and I laugh it off. Especially when I tell them that I sometimes enjoy watching weird fucked up movies. They give this weird look. Am I ok? I ask myself. Well, at least I am functioning on the outside.

The truth is, I watch such movies to distract myself, to make myself numb, temporarily. After going through such movies, I feel numb on the inside, at least for a few minutes. It gives me such a relief to feel nothing, for a change. And I desperately try to hold on to that numbness, as long as I can. This numb feeling, helps me to hold on to my sanity.

There is light at the end of the tunnel.... oh wait, that's a train coming, right at me.

Fakefakefakefakefakefakefakefakefakefakefakefakefakefakefakefakefakefakefakefakefakefakefakefakefakefakefakefake


Fake is thy name
Fake is thy word
Fake is thy worship
Fake consumes all.

How is a person supposed to react, when he or she becomes suddenly famous for whatever good reason? Happy? Far from it.

First of all, you get unwanted attention, from people who a few days back, didn't give a fuck to whether you were dead or alive.

Second, your colleagues scowl and start spreading nasty rumors about how totally undeserving/stupid/slutty you are.

Third, honestly nobody is happy with your success. It feels more like as if its some sin that I have committed.

I want to coop up and hide somewhere. Not show my face, or even the fact that I exist.

I just want some peace. I aint getting any.

Please leave me alone in my loneliness.

Blue bird

"there’s a bluebird in my heart that

wants to get out

but I’m too tough for him,

I say, stay in there, I’m not going

to let anybody see

you.

there’s a bluebird in my heart that

wants to get out

but I pour whiskey on him and inhale

cigarette smoke

and the whores and the bartenders

and the grocery clerks

never know that

he’s

in there.


there’s a bluebird in my heart that

wants to get out

but I’m too tough for him,

I say,

stay down, do you want to mess

me up?

you want to screw up the

works?

you want to blow my book sales in

Europe?

there’s a bluebird in my heart that

wants to get out

but I’m too clever, I only let him out

at night sometimes

when everybody’s asleep.

I say, I know that you’re there,

so don’t be

sad.

then I put him back,

but he’s singing a little

in there, I haven’t quite let him

die

and we sleep together like

that

with our

secret pact

and it’s nice enough to

make a man

weep, but I don’t

weep, do

you? "

-Charles Bukowski