Arrows

December 29, 2014 § Leave a comment

We had to drive 8+ hours to visit our grandparents this Christmas. Fine. I love my brother to death, but sometime he has to start on some fucking talk, that really is a criticism, or feels like it. Very patronizing, very….ugh, pointless a lot of the time.

And the only reason it bothers me….it would still bother me but not to the same effect, is if I didn’t feel so fucking empty and stupid like I do now. This is going to be a horrible post and no one is going to want to read it. Least of all me, who is writing it, so it’ll be short. I think my identity has been so tied into academia and my intelligence. Not that I ever thought I was smart or any other expletive denoting that, but now…I’m nothing.

I can make people find me attractive. (For a day). And I’m not. People will fuck anything. But, right now, that’s all I’ve got.

Nails

December 28, 2014 § Leave a comment

Chewed my nails down to nubs. Most of them. Not for a coke nail, my forefinger on left, my thumb on right. Not any purpose. Actually, if anything, they were just the nails that didn’t break. I just got back from Christmas at my grandparents’ on Manitoulin Island. The drive is always brutal, and the ride back, of course my mother forgets her purse at the restaurant we had lunch. Set us back almost an hour to drive back for it. And she just pisses me off all the time, so I feel validated in bitching about her? That’s not true and I’m sorry. Especially with family, or friends of family, I just…I really hate the things she has to say about me. Not to other people, just to me. Because she wants to shut me up, none of what I say or am she seems to like. I’m sure a lot of this is fabrication (I hope it is). Maybe it’s scarier when my brother brings up his own thoughts on the matter, how rude or inappropriate she can be to me. This kind of shaded secretive way she does it. No one is meant to see except for me, really. My dad has told her before at more extreme times. I remember my birthday dinner two years ago…she never takes anything well. This may be more of a story for later. Sorry I’m a fuckbag blogger.

Sex and Sangria Pt. 2

December 11, 2014 § Leave a comment

Alex Winston does a really fun cover of ‘Waiting around to die’ so I’m listening to that. Most likely taking lyrics too literally, trying to be SO DEEP. But I’m also googling the best vibrators. I would much rather fuck myself rather than deal with another person. I’m done with that. For now. I say those last words because most people will think ‘oh hey youre fucked up right now, one day youll be able to experience human connection” by sex they mean perhaps. Why is sex so essential? I just had to finish a course in the psychology of sexuality and read an article on asexuality. One of the issues raised was the participants just weren’t attracted to others. They felt for them, loved them, but weren’t sexually attracted to them. If you can have sex without love, can’t you have love without sex?.

Anyway, I’m tired. I am late in writing about the issues that have come around recently. My ego was fed when someone in a group I participate inĀ  brought up that I bring up certain issues or certain identifying words before they become public knowledge. eg. Jian Ghomeshi before it got HUGE and I recently referred to myself as alexythmic. I used to get made fun of, in a way, because I used to research obsessively certain issues and I used to pay an inordinate attention to things my friends/peers would say around me? eg. “Maghan, I don’t remember that, I don’t have a tape recorder in my brain.”

I always liked that part of myself…if it worked out in my favour. Until I sat in hospitals with nothing to do except thoughts of why I am the way I am. Why I did the things I did to get me here.

Part of it’s okay though. I’ve had time to think. TOO MUCH FUCKING TIME to think though, but it happened so I’m trying to use it.

Where Am I?

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