Such a pathetic pother

It’s like the past is washing away in a stream, everything is running so fast…  I feel like the world is locking me out. Sometimes it looks like everything is lost, in another moment, it seems so hopeful, but I can’t believe it… I don’t know where to hold on to or what to get from all of this…  I’ve been through so many fires that I don’t know who I am anymore (well, except that I don’t like myself and that others mostly don’t either) and that I might not find to my proper self anymore… too much has happened.

I really tried to decipher the codes and strings of my life, but then again, it reads like it was from my own mind not from real life, and also, how can I ever know for sure? That is exactly my problem, I don’t know where the perception starts and my own mind begins. That is spooky… But even more spooky is, that I think or believe to be left alone, and left to my own devices, and that I can’t find the reason of writing here or anywhere any longer, but of course I should try and go on, only it feels like hurting.   Like I had to step into the open and there was only a desert or a wide space of nothing, with me totally insecure and lightly exposed to danger.

I never had much self esteem, nor self assurance, but now it is at an all time high again.  Or better said, at an all time low of course. The high refers to being highly unsure of myself…            I know that I am not very appealing to anyone, and that my personality is weird also. I know that nothing speaks for me. Neither does my body which is too fat, nor does my fashion which is not existing at all if you so will, and also my behavior at times, it is from weird to funny to despicable to questionable and gawky…

The question is, how much reason have I to live? How much is it allowed that I live? From many people in my life (not on the internet), and I don’t know many people, I get the impression that I don’t have the right to be here, and that I am just wrong and that I don’t belong. I know they don’t care about me one bit and when I am near them, they give me the impression, that they don’t care one bit. The exact thing. And yes, I speak of my family…. They live a splendid life and they look down upon me. And of course they don’t know anything about me and I can’t even tell them since they would never ask. But I have to be strong these days since there might be some more contact with them, so I don’t have a choice… no choice but to suffer from this loneliness that comes with the situation.  I could just puke, but I don’t, surely.

I know I also have a lot of enemies, also here on Word Press, but I don’t bother, really not, I know I can’t escape anyway so I will make the best out of this pathetic situation… which isn’t even possible, but well.. That is also why I had to think much of the woman who fell into the hands of the wolves in the woods lately, it is the same situation for me, just in another context. I can’t run, and all is in the open, and I am circled by wolves with hard, bare teeth and a very bad opinion of me, ergo they snarl and don’t like my smell… and they wouldn’t make a fuss but just… well, we all know how it goes.

But the only thing I ever wanted was love, for everyone, I am not interested in a war or in anything like that, that is where I am different from them.

I really can’t understand why people have to be so aggressive all the time, it is like a world disease, and it spreads, obviously…  I feel for those with an aggressive attitude, it must make them so bitter and their life so unpleasant.  But  “it” can’t be helped and I won’t bother to do so. Since, as everyone of the “Mob” already seems to know, I am not a “motherly” figure. There you go.      As if I couldn’t be sarcastic myself.  And I sure start to understand the reason, but I am not the one that did wrong here. I did not know better… and was deceived all these years…smilie_girl_169satisfaction

I am rather cheeky, bold, unpleasant, inconvenient, disobeying and just a plain pain in the arse.  Just bite on it. 8428b6d7cf4bdd712fb1413cb880cbe7

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•aching body due to some brutal devices•

My body kind of aches, as so is my soul. It aches horribly and intensively. Though I feel a bit better since yesterday, which was a terrible day. My uncle was here, and my mother came to hospital. So, I was worried sick, but also went with other worries in my mind, which boggled me the whole time through. Funny though, there were many not so ill looking people near or in the hospital, funny considering the late hour… but I did not give too much attention to it, I tried not to give them the impression, that I cared about them too much.

Was annoying anyway, the whole thing, because I and my uncle don’t get really along so good. He always teases me and I don’t like that at all. In the end he gave me the advice to organize myself better, even when I told him before the flat is a bit unorganized at the moment due to the gap in (before) non existing furniture and so on, but that is so usual for this family, that I get insulted each time I see them, for whatever reason possible.

Although I wonder, why should anyone be jealous at anyone running around with exactly  me , but I don’t have to understand everything…  if that were the case at all.

So I’m obviously left to my own brutal devices… lol…

But I must have such a face, where people like to put a punch into. Just a fact.  I really, really hate my life. 59fff8ae08b292a40eef167d704c18caspinne18

So many sorrows

I just want to say a sorry  — for I have so many sorrows —- my mind is going up an down — for it is not so many lights up here — I fear the night and more revenge — I found some treasures yet today (or yesterday) — they washed me away like nothing else — my heart is so big that I might drown inside — for less ideas I could not have had — it shocks me right away — the tide is washing tears hereby — and I fear to have lost you again once more — I do not want to die from it.reflection_030411a00250e445eb7337f8391c77faa41I really really do not want to have it like this…15d82f8213c2e98331b26e72518b5c8a

Like a sting from a scorpion

A story

Chapter one, written on September 12, 2017

She felt like she was stung by a scorpion, his sting hurt like seven million stings and not like just one. She sat in her room and her thoughts ran wild, because she couldn’t get a grip on his language he used, and she tried so hard to understand what he was saying to her. It wasn’t easy for her to get it because she was far away from him, and there wasn’t a possibility to change that so soon, or at all. She listened to some music, but that did not help her either. The sun shone into her room and passed away from moment to moment to come back every now and then, and the clouds were wild and big, flying over the sky that was grey from one moment to another.  The only sound came from the trees, shaking their heads so strong.  She felt lonely.  It was cold, and the leafs fell from the trees faster than they did over the summer, summer was over and it was so clear to her.  She stepped back from the window, and sat at her desk, reading his mails, and it was difficult for her – difficult to take it. Because he was hard with his words, and she knew she wasn’t the only one for him.  It was obvious from his language.  And this house was his, and she did not have much time left to stay,  but she had no clue where to go.

She stopped the cassette player, because she needed some quietness. It was her old walkman from older times, she did hold on to it for so long, since she needed some things to stay the same. The most time she spent alone, and old things from earlier gave her the feeling of some reassurance, and music brought to her some kind of surrounding, like a bed, that made her feel cozy. Quietness was also good, but she could only stand it for a while. The loneliness she was in was profound, except her housemaid who only came two times over the week, she never saw anyone. Her shyness was profound too though. So, she had caged herself in, in the deepest maze of loneliness that there could ever be. And she knew it. She couldn’t help it. It would stay that way for a long time, for sure.

In her head were pictures from a past she couldn’t endure, pictures from him and her, from people and wolves and wild animals, from screams and things she could not understand, several pictures as layers that surfaced and then fell back into darkness. She couldn’t control the pictures, and sometimes she thought, it must end, eventually. But it didn’t. They were stronger than her. She thought, it must be an illusion, but it wasn’t, and it was clear to her. It was all real and she had to come to terms with her reality. The last year was especially hard for her and all that had happened tortured her in her mind. She had no one to talk to. But, it would have been dangerous too, so she kept silent. She also did this for him.

He meant everything for her, although she knew that this was stupid. He wasn’t always nice to her. He was playing a game with her. She knew that. But his eyes were always so treacherously cosy and warm, and so full of hypnosis. It killed her thought of getting away every time she looked into them. Well, now, she could not look at him, only at his pictures, but she dared not to. He was somewhere else and he did not tell her where. She was alone.

The world kind of vanished on her. Sometimes she just sat there, starring onto the walls, or out of the window, thinking. Or just plain watching the colors,  the trees and the squirrels running around, or the cats from the neighbor’s house striving around her house. It was quite rare that a walker came by, mostly this place was just nature and animals, which she preferred. She still suffered from jetleg,  which meant she was mostly up at night and slept during the day, her time at the moment was the New York time, and this was his time also. It happened to her from time to time, that she took on the time system of people she was interacting with intensively, and he was surely in her mind intensively. But she wished of course he wasn’t. This was one of those things that she did not have any control over.  She just waited out on it, until it would normalize.

Then there were these disturbing text messages from her ex-boyfriend. She mostly read over them and put the phone away unnerved. She did not dare to answer, because it was always the same stupid nonsense. She hadn’t talked to him since a year. And she felt no desire to do so.  He had been abusive and had screamed at her almost each day, something she loathed and she hated him for that.

It was late and she went up to her bedroom to change.  She went out for a walk, through the still mostly green scenery, and pulled her jacket near to her, letting her tears flow. She took some deep breath and the air tasted so sweet and like freedom, but she was happy not to meet anyone during her lonely walk.

When she came back, a letter from her ex-boyfriend was in the letter-box. It read: “Please, we must meet, come to my place, address, I hope you will come, I really need to talk to you, love, C”.

Again she took a deep breath. Why on earth did C. think, that she would come to see him, after all that happened? Was this a trap? Or was he just simply completely  out of his mind? She ran into the bathroom to throw some water in her face, and the mirror showed a fully confused, ugly, boring, and non-conform woman, that had changed so much over the years, that she simply couldn’t take the thought to go see him again… It was clear, that she could not talk to anyone. Not anymore. She was in a cage. It was because she did not want to talk to people, about whatever. But she also couldn’t, because she had some kind of blocking software in her head. It was there, the key, but she could not reach it. Maybe, she thought, HE did this to me, he maybe brainwashed me, blocked me from the world.  She looked into the mirror, into her eyes. They were dazed, seemed to look from so far away through her own self, as if she wasn’t there.  She turned off the lights and went to bed. The walk had made her tired, and she took it as an opportunity to sleep. But her eyes were open for a long time, and she took the steps and sat down in front of her laptop and started to read his poetic and disturbing mails, all over again.

 

 

 

I finally figured it out: brainwash technique

So, I know how brainwashing works. Or, better, how it its done. I am soo witty. I am impressed by myself.  *grinningdeeply*….

Sometimes, all you need to learn a secret, is reading your heads off. Until your eyes are sore and your mind explodes. Well done to me. 😀

It is all about houses, empty spaces and newly constructed words. And fences to protect the mind-keeper’s new mind from entering or letting others enter his mind. Or stepping out of his new mind, so he is caged in his own mind forever.  (Hence the gatekeepers, which are the words used to brainwash him…) This is what it needs and not much more. This is just the beginning, to be true. It is the gate opener to next techniques, which will probably go even deeper into the person’s mind, but all with vast, empty rooms and vast space to put new furniture in.

How I found out? Again, through deep reading into the Internet, through finding out that my mind obviously works like somebody else’s who I never met and I never read her before, but this is all the same as if I had taken it from her, which wasn’t the case.

Beware. Houses and empty spaces just don’t go along. It’s a sign.

 

… and my religion is…

Well, and this is what happens, when “someone” becomes your “religion”.

It is so overwhelming in the end.  I cried yesterday, because I found out so many things I had already seen and I did not know. In 2002, I began to write a story, well about “someone”, and I went on writing over the years and I thought it was total fiction, also about me, and about him an his passion (his religion I think because it can’t be anything else, or these people who were around him and me ), but I did not know then, that it was about “him”, or about a religion. You know. I wasn’t aware who and what that was I was writing about. It was just for fun… and because I wanted to be a writer.  Writing by seeing into the future which is not written by then is like, the feeling to an extend where nothing makes sense… but actually, I thought nothing of it, I thought everything was as normal, I blanked out completely on what was not so obvious.

Yesterday I read my story again after all these years (which I luckily did not throw away as I had planned) and many details are as far as I know true, and are  fitting in.      It was clairvoyance, what else?  And then it shook me and I had to cry.       It is not for anyone to read of course, it is not finished or  good or anything, but it shows the many things which happened and are happening in the last three, four years and ongoing I think, to me it is shocking but as well wonderful. It is like a bond which was invisible and unknown to me.

It is either telepathy or something else, which I don’t know yet…. and it makes me wonder, nobody can say, that clairvoyance doesn’t exist. Because it does.

He must have such a strong mind. To me, that is mind-blowing.

 

 

 

next stop any airport? or what?

I am out of order. I am tired. I don’t sleep anymore. It is becoming a drag, very slowly but yes, somehow nothing works anymore, in the morning I am like dust and in the evening, I try not to fall asleep, because I am so fearful of death, while nobody cares here anyway.  I feel like am totally worthless, and they let me know that, while treating me like dirt. I don’t visit a doctor, because I can’t trust them. I don’t call anybody anymore, because I don’t want to be hurt. At the same time, I want to get out of my life as it is, therefore I have to  contact people. But I don’t trust anyone. I know everybody hates me, or at least, has enough of me. It is an imminent feeling. At the same time, everybody around me is sick, leaning on me like I am the strongest person on earth, with no needs at all. I don’t talk to them, at least not on the phone or directly. But text messages are too much too. I just want out of everything, out of this world, this planet, and out of this universe maybe.

I guess, you know it when it becomes too much. You know, when you are one too many.  I’ll have to pack my things and go, but I don’t see why I should do that, it’s just giving up and ending up all things, not a new start or a hope for a new life somewhere, because there is nowhere to go. All about me is all wrong, never mind where I go.

I can’t stop the demons from haunting me (my bad ex-boyfriends who just are about themselves and tease me), there are no new people in sight and the house I live in is cursed. I really think about buying a trekking backpack, instead of new furniture, and just leaving everything, hiking trough the world. With no destination.  Because nothing makes sense anymore.

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