I hate it when friends fight. Hate it hate it hate it.
I hate it even more when one friend is being especially pissy towards me because of said fight. Hate it hate it hate it hate it.
Honestly, if you wanted to come with us... it's called asking. You easily could have, I wouldn't have minded at all. I still like you.
And aw, you and your subtle tweets that aren't subtle. Aw. How sweet. -.-
Bleehhhh. I was going to start blogging regularly. I promised this would be the one blog that I didn't abandon. Looks like that went down the drain.
I can't even be bothered to type anymore.
Sunday, 6 November 2011
Saturday, 29 October 2011
Misadventures at the Shops
Yesterday was an incredible fail of epic proportions. I made two new friends, but that was literally the only good thing that happened.
You are aware, possibly, that yesterday I made my regular pilgrimage to the local skatepark (or more accurately, near the skatepark- my nor my friends ever actually go into it) and because my dad was staring work early, I had to take the bus like the responsible adult I will one day be forced to grow up to be. Besides waiting for the bus for quart or an hour, everything was fine, until I realised I was the only one on the bus, and the driver was this creepy old man. I really thought he might drive off to a deserted area and murder me in assorted creative ways.
That didn't happen. I arrived at the shops near the skatepark in one piece, but I was half an hour earlier and I was panicking like mad. I have both a crippling fear of social interaction and a crippling fear of being alone, and I knew fine well that none of my friends would be where we'd arranged to meet yet. I would be alone, and I would look like such an epic creeper. I didn't want to look like an epic creeper. So, no word of a lie, I went and spent three quid on a notebook and some pens to stall for time and actually look like I was doing something instead of just standing around like a saddo. My friends arrived literally five minutes after the purchase, so yeah. It was pointless.
One of my friends, Michel, had brought two of his friends that none of us knew, Laura and Ronan. Laura was pretty cool and I secretly hope she dates Michel some day because they'll be good together, and Ronan was gloriously gay and perverted and has a slightly unnerving obsession with Frank Iero. But one of my best friends has a slightly unnvering obsession with Gerard Way, so I'm used to dealing with that sort of thing.
The way went well until a far twelve year old chav who has a grudge against Michel decided to randomly, out of nowhere, run across the street, push him off his bike, and start beating him up- right outside of a police station, the idiot. There was much panic and the fat chav fled when three Responsible Adults restored my faith in humanity by stopping their cars to help Michel, and help us escort him to the police station. Because none of us intended to let the fat chav get away with hurting our friend for literally no reason except that, months ago, he'd stood up for one of his own friends when the fat chav was bullying them.
We ended up spending an hour in the police station getting things sorted out and making sure Michel was okay since he'd been kicked in the head (he was mostly fine, just a bit battered) and when my dad found out where I was he freaked out and almost locked me in my bedroom for the rest of my life to become some sort of weird middle-class Rapunzel. After a girl got killed in... Liverpool, I think it was, a few years ago for being a goth he has a paranoia that some one's going to jump me because of the way I dress, so this was a large fright for him.
So yeah. That was by far and away the most interesting day of half term.
And on a totally unrelated note my ex best friend is having a birthday party across the street and I can see all the balloons and streamers on her front door. She made no attempt to invite me. I'm not surprise and I genuinely don't care, since I've been finding her gradually more unbearable in the past three years.
You are aware, possibly, that yesterday I made my regular pilgrimage to the local skatepark (or more accurately, near the skatepark- my nor my friends ever actually go into it) and because my dad was staring work early, I had to take the bus like the responsible adult I will one day be forced to grow up to be. Besides waiting for the bus for quart or an hour, everything was fine, until I realised I was the only one on the bus, and the driver was this creepy old man. I really thought he might drive off to a deserted area and murder me in assorted creative ways.
That didn't happen. I arrived at the shops near the skatepark in one piece, but I was half an hour earlier and I was panicking like mad. I have both a crippling fear of social interaction and a crippling fear of being alone, and I knew fine well that none of my friends would be where we'd arranged to meet yet. I would be alone, and I would look like such an epic creeper. I didn't want to look like an epic creeper. So, no word of a lie, I went and spent three quid on a notebook and some pens to stall for time and actually look like I was doing something instead of just standing around like a saddo. My friends arrived literally five minutes after the purchase, so yeah. It was pointless.
One of my friends, Michel, had brought two of his friends that none of us knew, Laura and Ronan. Laura was pretty cool and I secretly hope she dates Michel some day because they'll be good together, and Ronan was gloriously gay and perverted and has a slightly unnerving obsession with Frank Iero. But one of my best friends has a slightly unnvering obsession with Gerard Way, so I'm used to dealing with that sort of thing.
The way went well until a far twelve year old chav who has a grudge against Michel decided to randomly, out of nowhere, run across the street, push him off his bike, and start beating him up- right outside of a police station, the idiot. There was much panic and the fat chav fled when three Responsible Adults restored my faith in humanity by stopping their cars to help Michel, and help us escort him to the police station. Because none of us intended to let the fat chav get away with hurting our friend for literally no reason except that, months ago, he'd stood up for one of his own friends when the fat chav was bullying them.
We ended up spending an hour in the police station getting things sorted out and making sure Michel was okay since he'd been kicked in the head (he was mostly fine, just a bit battered) and when my dad found out where I was he freaked out and almost locked me in my bedroom for the rest of my life to become some sort of weird middle-class Rapunzel. After a girl got killed in... Liverpool, I think it was, a few years ago for being a goth he has a paranoia that some one's going to jump me because of the way I dress, so this was a large fright for him.
So yeah. That was by far and away the most interesting day of half term.
And on a totally unrelated note my ex best friend is having a birthday party across the street and I can see all the balloons and streamers on her front door. She made no attempt to invite me. I'm not surprise and I genuinely don't care, since I've been finding her gradually more unbearable in the past three years.
Friday, 28 October 2011
ACTUALLY, WAIT
Before I depart on my groupie adventures (by the way I've only just started to realise how attractive skater girls are oh my God can a girl with a skateboard who knows how to use it date me please), I just wanted to point something out.
I'm not doing the Slenderblog thing anymore, even though I was planning to originally and therefore the first posts and about me hint at that sort of supernatural vein. But the nightmares and hallucination-esque things I talk about in the second post I made, ever? Those are real, I swear to God they are. I don't actually think there's anything supernatural about them, though, maybe just something severely wrong in my brain, some switch that didn't get flipped to 'sensible teenage almost-adult' and is stuck at 'little girl afraid of every single thing ever'.
To be honest, I'm still afraid of every single thing ever. I just try to hide it more now.
ALSO I CAN SEE YOUR UNDERWEAR FROM DOWN HERE. BAI NOW.
I'm not doing the Slenderblog thing anymore, even though I was planning to originally and therefore the first posts and about me hint at that sort of supernatural vein. But the nightmares and hallucination-esque things I talk about in the second post I made, ever? Those are real, I swear to God they are. I don't actually think there's anything supernatural about them, though, maybe just something severely wrong in my brain, some switch that didn't get flipped to 'sensible teenage almost-adult' and is stuck at 'little girl afraid of every single thing ever'.
To be honest, I'm still afraid of every single thing ever. I just try to hide it more now.
ALSO I CAN SEE YOUR UNDERWEAR FROM DOWN HERE. BAI NOW.
I Feel Like I'm Made of Cake
So I forgot this blog existed, but then I started reading Hyberbole and a Half and remembered it. I know I'll never be as funny as that (or have as good art, sadly) BUT I CAN TRY, RIGHT? No. Just random ramblings. Apologies.
So, confession time. This was originally going to be a Slenderblog- a blog claiming I'm being stalked by Slenderman. But I was going to try and be all cool and creative and original and make it not Slenderman after all, and blah. I think the early warning signs were in the first post.
I'm not going to do that anymore. I'm just going to kill any poor unfortunate souls who wander here with tales of my boring life. Like I do on Twitter already, but you have to deal with more than one hundred and forty characters of my shit.
So. It's half term. The first days were good- I went to sleep at midnight and crawled out of bed at noon. I enjoyed spending half of my life asleep.
I can't do that anymore.
Last night I found myself lying awake at half past four in the morning, staring at the ceiling. I looked pretty tired, I think. Inside, I was all BOUNCYRAINBOWSWIDEAWAKENEVERSLEEP. I couldn't, for the life of me, close my eyes and shut off my mind to get some sleep. Then I woke up this morning at 7:15, after I finally drifted off. So I got less than three hours sleep. The night before that, five at maximum. Before that, something similair.
The sleep deprivation doesn't even feel like dying anymore. It feels like rainbows. I think my hands are made of cake. My brain definitely is, I can't feel it anymore.
The only decent thing is that any purple circles under my eyes are going to be covered by my ridiculous panda-bear makeup anyway.
Anyway. I'm going to the skate park nowto be a groupie and stare at the cute boys. I can't actually skate.
So, confession time. This was originally going to be a Slenderblog- a blog claiming I'm being stalked by Slenderman. But I was going to try and be all cool and creative and original and make it not Slenderman after all, and blah. I think the early warning signs were in the first post.
I'm not going to do that anymore. I'm just going to kill any poor unfortunate souls who wander here with tales of my boring life. Like I do on Twitter already, but you have to deal with more than one hundred and forty characters of my shit.
So. It's half term. The first days were good- I went to sleep at midnight and crawled out of bed at noon. I enjoyed spending half of my life asleep.
I can't do that anymore.
Last night I found myself lying awake at half past four in the morning, staring at the ceiling. I looked pretty tired, I think. Inside, I was all BOUNCYRAINBOWSWIDEAWAKENEVERSLEEP. I couldn't, for the life of me, close my eyes and shut off my mind to get some sleep. Then I woke up this morning at 7:15, after I finally drifted off. So I got less than three hours sleep. The night before that, five at maximum. Before that, something similair.
The sleep deprivation doesn't even feel like dying anymore. It feels like rainbows. I think my hands are made of cake. My brain definitely is, I can't feel it anymore.
The only decent thing is that any purple circles under my eyes are going to be covered by my ridiculous panda-bear makeup anyway.
Anyway. I'm going to the skate park now
Thursday, 25 August 2011
Nightmares
Yeah... I doubt anyone's been reading this blog since the... I don't know, dozen or so hours that I started it. But if you have, you might have glanced at my About Me and seen that I said I sufffer from nightmares and what me, being the drama queen I am, believe to be hallucinations. I have since quite literally longer than I can remember, but I do remember it was when I had a white metal bed with a patchwork quilt, which was after my little sister was born but before we started sharing a room. So I was younger than five or six, I think, but older than two. I think I was two or three, but whatever, I'm rambling.
So. I have nightmares- well, I THINK I have nightmares. I actually only remember two of them. I mean, I remember more than that, but in this specific vein of nightmare it's just those two.
The nightmares aren't the actual issue, all they do is wake me up. When I wake up, I'm usually facing the wall because of how I sleep. My bed has been pressed up against the wall, in every house I've ever lived in, since I was a baby. So when I face the wall, the only thing I can see is the wall.
So I wake up in the middle of the night, from these nightmares, and I know there's this... this Eldritch Abomination thing standing beside the bed, watching me. If I turn around and see it, it'll kill me. Sometimes I imagine it's a monster (when I was a little kid), sometimes a werewolf (again, little kid), but more recently, I view the... thing as a shadow person. I guess it manifests in whatever scares me most at the time.
It happened almost every night when I was young, to the point where I didn't even scream for my parents anymore. I just lay awake, in the dark, eyes closed tight, praying I don't accidentally catch a glimpse of whatever it is that's in the room with me. Having my sister in the room didn't help, when we started sharing a room. They, whatever they are, still came.
It stopped about the time my parents broke up, with one isolated instance when I was about seven; about the time I saw a ghost, incidentally. It always happened in what's now my dad's house, never my mum's. I thought they'd stop for good.
But a little while ago it happened again, two instances in the space of three weeks, where I woke up convinced there was a shadow person watching me. The first time, there was no reason at all it might have happened. The second, I'd been reading creepypasta all night, so there's an explanation for it, I guess.
Because I'm a derp who likes scaring herself, I read about the Slenderman mythos yesterday. I don't believe in him, lemme say that. Why should I, when we can trace him back to his origins in a photo manip on the Internet? No, I don't buy into that bullshit.
Apparently my subconsious does though, because last night I convinced myself he was in my room after I woke up in the middle of the night. It was... different to the 'norm' for these waking terrors, I was kinda drifting in and out of sleep. That just made it really confusing, disorienting and awful.
But yeah. The sun came up and everything was fine, I realized I was only... I'm going to call it hallucinating, for lack of a better word. I didn't actually see anything scary, and I never have, with the exception of some tricks of the light in my mirror, but I convince myself that they are actually there. I don't look because I know, somehow, they'll kill me if I do. These things I dream up weren't meant to be seen by human eyes.
This probably doesn't make sense to anyone reading. It's hard to explain, I guess. I've lived with it for so long, and kept it a secret a lot, I don't really know how to put it into words.
I guess I sound crazy now. Oh well.
x Ellie
So. I have nightmares- well, I THINK I have nightmares. I actually only remember two of them. I mean, I remember more than that, but in this specific vein of nightmare it's just those two.
The nightmares aren't the actual issue, all they do is wake me up. When I wake up, I'm usually facing the wall because of how I sleep. My bed has been pressed up against the wall, in every house I've ever lived in, since I was a baby. So when I face the wall, the only thing I can see is the wall.
So I wake up in the middle of the night, from these nightmares, and I know there's this... this Eldritch Abomination thing standing beside the bed, watching me. If I turn around and see it, it'll kill me. Sometimes I imagine it's a monster (when I was a little kid), sometimes a werewolf (again, little kid), but more recently, I view the... thing as a shadow person. I guess it manifests in whatever scares me most at the time.
It happened almost every night when I was young, to the point where I didn't even scream for my parents anymore. I just lay awake, in the dark, eyes closed tight, praying I don't accidentally catch a glimpse of whatever it is that's in the room with me. Having my sister in the room didn't help, when we started sharing a room. They, whatever they are, still came.
It stopped about the time my parents broke up, with one isolated instance when I was about seven; about the time I saw a ghost, incidentally. It always happened in what's now my dad's house, never my mum's. I thought they'd stop for good.
But a little while ago it happened again, two instances in the space of three weeks, where I woke up convinced there was a shadow person watching me. The first time, there was no reason at all it might have happened. The second, I'd been reading creepypasta all night, so there's an explanation for it, I guess.
Because I'm a derp who likes scaring herself, I read about the Slenderman mythos yesterday. I don't believe in him, lemme say that. Why should I, when we can trace him back to his origins in a photo manip on the Internet? No, I don't buy into that bullshit.
Apparently my subconsious does though, because last night I convinced myself he was in my room after I woke up in the middle of the night. It was... different to the 'norm' for these waking terrors, I was kinda drifting in and out of sleep. That just made it really confusing, disorienting and awful.
But yeah. The sun came up and everything was fine, I realized I was only... I'm going to call it hallucinating, for lack of a better word. I didn't actually see anything scary, and I never have, with the exception of some tricks of the light in my mirror, but I convince myself that they are actually there. I don't look because I know, somehow, they'll kill me if I do. These things I dream up weren't meant to be seen by human eyes.
This probably doesn't make sense to anyone reading. It's hard to explain, I guess. I've lived with it for so long, and kept it a secret a lot, I don't really know how to put it into words.
I guess I sound crazy now. Oh well.
x Ellie
Wednesday, 24 August 2011
New blog, whoot
I've made about a million blogs in my time, I probably still have links to a few of them. But they never last, because I just got bored of them far too quickly. Hopefully this one will, I guess?
I did have a whole awesome welcoming post all planned out and stuff, but right now the only thing I can think of is how badly I need to pee. >.<
...Actually, that's a pretty accurate representation of how this blog's gonna go. My random, unextraordinary life- hence the title. It's not enjoyable, and I know almost no one will read it. OH WELL. If you have common interests with me, like Tim Burton, yaoi, and alternative music, maybe this blog will interest you though. Maybe.
Also, I suck at programming and stuff so I can't customize my layout very well. This is as good as it gets.
LATER DUDES. (wow I sound like a douche)
x Ellie
I did have a whole awesome welcoming post all planned out and stuff, but right now the only thing I can think of is how badly I need to pee. >.<
...Actually, that's a pretty accurate representation of how this blog's gonna go. My random, unextraordinary life- hence the title. It's not enjoyable, and I know almost no one will read it. OH WELL. If you have common interests with me, like Tim Burton, yaoi, and alternative music, maybe this blog will interest you though. Maybe.
Also, I suck at programming and stuff so I can't customize my layout very well. This is as good as it gets.
LATER DUDES. (wow I sound like a douche)
x Ellie
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