Monthly Archives: February 2014

Why everything turns to shit in the end anyway

I’m not saying this is a complaining post, but fuck this, I can say what I want. 

When you think about it, if we didn’t have society, we wouldn’t be disappointed. Who disappoints me the most? Myself and others. Now apart from killing myself, which isn’t on my day planner right now, I think my only solution is to get out of society. The thing is… I can’t. Why? Because I can’t grow food for shit (every one of my cactuses died… why try growing carrots?), I can’t swim very well due to nearly drowning 4 times… I hate not being able to shower… and I need lactose free food. So… I do need what society brings me… slight sanity… but I can’t deny it makes me more angry and melancholic than anything else. 

At the moment, all I can think of, is how people (and not anybody, I’m not talking about the postman or that dude who pisses against my flat wall in the mornings…) oh no no, I’m talking about friends. Right now, I have a friend who is so far down the rabbit hole, she can’t even smell the world surrounding them… and what does she do? Continue fucking digging! Holy Jesus Fucking Chrrrriissssst!. Part of me is wondering why I give a rats ass… the other day someone said I was too kind! Can you believe it? I think the reason people make snap judgments about you, is because they don’t know you. It’s easy to say that when you don’t know why they act the way they do. 

Anyway, what am I to do? Right now… I wish everything was out of my head. I’m slightly envious of the brain dead vegetables on a heart monitor in the hospital right now, because fuck. They don’t have problems… ok they do, but their mind isn’t oscillating between anger, sadness and disappointed on an hourly rate. My problem? I can’t help feel invested in peoples lives. I like to help. I see someone who’s sad, needs a helping hand, anything… and I’m there. Why? Because I profoundly believe in karma. Do good, and one day you get it back. Have a got in back? Hell no. Am I disappointed? Yes. I should be those selfish dicks who surround me… but that’s still not me. I won’t change. I don’t want to change either. 

So what I’m saying to you, yes you, the person or persons fucking up. Stop digging. This is not the great escape. Get the fuck out before you get too in and can’t get back. (Maybe this applies to just ONE of my friends but the advice is still valid). 

As for the rest of you. Dont be asking me for no more help. I’ll be the girl who does what she wants when she wants now. Fuck you all. Tata bastards. 



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Outside in or Inside out ?

I’ve been wondering lately, while looking around my slightly messier room than normal, the state of my fridge (nothing buy old pasta and apples), my un-hoovered carpets and the alarming amount of un-clean washing up in the sink : are our outsides our insides? Or is it the complete opposite?


Fine. I’ll explain. When I’m feeling in super cooper shape, happy go lucky weirdo mood : my flat is super clean and tiny. You could probably fry an egg on my toilet seat while stirring the pan with the toilet brush… right now… I’m feeling a bit shite and lost… god knows why, well I know why, but I shouldn’t. I’m amazing. But whatever. Want to know what my flat looks like? Argh. Messy and disorganised. Just like my head. So, the question really is, am I sad, thus my interior reflects that… or is it because my flat looks like a pigsty that I then become depressed? Mmmm… hard to tell. Some people I know, live in the dirtiest hovels you could think of… but they are happy great people, so I guess it doesn’t bother everyone. Maybe I’m one of those tidy freaks you hear about in bad pilot episodes of cancelled shows… “clean freak” (except that if you knew my views on cleaning floors you’d die… ok ok fine, I’ll tell you. Fucking hate it. I prefer doing any other chore, but hoovering, cleaning the floor… is just horrible… the should try that at Guantanamo for inmates. They would crack in no time. I’ll tell you anything you want to know in exchange to not having to mop up the floor I swear). So it’s definitely not a “cleanos” house here… but I do like clean sheets and a tidy room that doesn’t smell of an ashtray (I live in France, people smoke at my parties!) and BO. Thats said, just last night a friend of mine B, told me they thought I smelt delicious and when I asked why… I was told  I had a “roxy smell”… so I smell of myself but you can describe it? Okie domes. Strange.

I’m feeling tired, but I’ll finish this (feeling sad and shit makes you tired, probably a good thing, my diet had been going great, I have stopped eating during the day).

Anyway, the question is still open… if your interior looks like crap, is the person “sad/depressed etc.” or is that just a personal trait (dirty/messy etc.)… mmmm….


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Filed under Clichés, Errrrrr ?, LOL, Men vs. Women