the inky finger files

"I'm sorry, I'm just so so sorry"

2012-01-25T23:16:00.001+11:00

I feel almost obliged to post today, because I haven't for so long, and once again I seem to find the understanding of my maturity something in question. Because unlike last year I've got good a letting everyone go, two people spring to my mind and I guess in a lot of ways I am better off for it. I've listened to countless tales of "I'm so sorry" and "I only hurt you because I love you so much" and for once in my life all of that sounds ridiculous.

Maturity is something hard to come by even with birthdays containing the first season of The Hills.
I think I'm going to write some letters, to some people who are gone, do not take this personally, just like I don't take myself seriously anymore

Freckle,
we all get sick of each other eventually,
I'm sorry it's happened this way, I hope you think everything is normal,
I guess it is.
I'm sure you'll be better off like this
a little less than love,

Burn Book,
I don't need you. I cannot go back to you no matter how much I want to. I miss you like crazy and I would have said everything right back that night if you had stopped texting some fucking random. This is why we don't work. Its funny that you said all of this was a way for you to hurt me, because that is such an overreaction. Don't blame your problems on my unrequited love. Blame it on a what-could-have-been-relationship that somehow turned bad. You've made some bad moves (and I only know this because I made them too). I don't think I can ever trust you like before, but I'm only trying to keep my distance because I cannot bare to let myself have you in my life just to tear it apart. You admit it, but I could never agree to your face that this year was the worst year of my life besides year 8. I'm not your first love. You'll find someone who fits. I hope you're not planning on hurting me again. I have so many things I was meant to tell you. But you were too drunk and hysterical to understand.

Skins
I really hoped that by now all this fear would stop and my mind would stop and you would vanish but I guess that's never really going to happen because my heart still feels too big for my body to let go.
I thought it was safe to talk but I really don't think it is. You hurt her, she hurt you. You both have hurt me.
I don't want to just let you go.
I want to throw you into the ocean.
You make me too fucking confused.
urgh.

He, who used to be you, who used to be "I just don't know you yet" who used to be tweedle dum, who used to be An, who used to be some ridiculous blogger name that I created in order to talk about my feelings in a self indulgent matter.

I miss you. But I cannot bare to be around you.
I cannot fix this problem myself.

Can I just say something? As an open letter to everyone I'm ever going to know in the future, that I'm sure these past people can vouch for me. What is said, or done to another person you cannot take back. I repededly hate myself for all the posts, letters, and feelings I have ever had regarding any of you. I do not deserve any form of forgiveness and in all honestly I'm trying to forget it all ever happened, whilst repetitively making sure I never make these mistakes again.

As much as I want it to happen:

You can never take back all the nasty things you've said

in spite of terror

2012-01-22T23:16:00.000+11:00

I loved him in spite of all his faults, I love her in spite of all her faults, I am terrified of these people in spite of every non threatening glance they have ever given.

I am living in spite of… myself.

and It’s the worst kind of bad. Its the kind that eats you up and makes you fight with you parents constantly. It’s that aching feeling that kind of makes me want to throw up. I love you, I love you, I love you. But where does that leave me? I cannot for the life of me try to pick myself up and hug you. Because to be honest that’s the only thing I want to do. When you cry, I drop everything. But I’ve been crying because of you for what seems like forever. Distance makes the heart grow fonder? No, -even if you’re weak at heart, it will get stronger. Your heart is getting stronger. It gets easier because I’ve learnt to spend weeks without you, I’ve spent a year without talking and I’m still here, eventually I’ll forget anyone I want to. Like I am still trying to forget her. I don’t need this addiction in my life, because that’s what it is: I’m addicted to your company, to messages, to texts, to drunken calls, and stupid sayings of “I only did it because I love you”. Don’t bother asking how many times I have sacrificed myself in order for you to be okay.

So can you all do me a favour and get better.
because then maybe we can all both be a bit stronger.

H&M

2012-01-02T08:51:00.001+11:00

17 something years and I'm sort of in the same place, I think about the same things before I go to bed. I dream the same things, just with different faces. I'm grateful for something but I haven't really pin pointed it yet. I'm 17 years today and I started this when I was 14. You may not all be here anymore but thanks anyway.

It's been 17 years since everything for me.

please don't leave

mountain my mind

2011-12-20T20:39:00.003+11:00

By this time something has got to change, I'm sick of asia and all the things I seem to think when I'm there. But I guess thats why my mind is always cycling. I can imagine it's gears perfectly, I think there's something stuck in there. I think I'm stuck here. I'm losing too many friends too fast.

I'm too scared, and tired to ask if she missed me i miss her, i've missed her, i've been missing her since I met her. For such a long time I've held back urges involving brick walls, and basins. I'm sorry I told you my mind is such a mess some times.

My mind is always cycling. I miss everyone at one point at another, even the people who call me pointless, and I guess, the only reason I'm even terrified of them is because I know its true, my mind is pointless, these thoughts are endless, I feel loveless, and one day things will get better, but that day isn't now, and I'm trying hard not to stop doing what I'm doing. But breathing is getting kind of hard.

and it's not due to altitude anymore.

Borneo today, something tomorrow

2011-11-18T09:00:00.001+11:00

I'm going to Borneo kids. I'll be back in a month. It's been a long time coming, we we've been planning it since last year when things were sort of normal. I'm not used to writing here anymore. I know no one really reads this anymore, which is comforting it's like it used to be. besides the fact that tumblr is where it is at I'm trying really hard to better than what I was. I'm also trying hard not to run away as much. But I'll tell you how that goes.

I'm sick of guilt ridden friendships, and things that scare me but shouldn't. I'm sick of death threats, anonymous questions and fake stalking, of paranoia, of laughing, of crying, of myself.

But I think borneo will be good. Unless I die.
In which case:

I'm sorry.
I love you,
I love you.

take care.

i just want to talk about death cab

2011-11-12T00:33:00.001+11:00

maybe you all saw this coming but i'm beginning to really think about things, because i've helped too many kids into taxis, and i've been stuck under beds with blood and gore, and irritating problems. So now i'm just trying to figure out what noises on the side of the wall are mine, and which are the neighbours, because I'm tired, I miss her too much, and it hurts too much, and I feel too shit all the time,

and it's all my fault because i'm a horrible person, and i can't say what i want to say because i'm drunk, and you are lovely but you also kind of suck.

i'm going to sleep forever, just for a while.

2011-10-28T00:21:00.002+11:00

Even though everyone I hate will read this, I just need to say I'm exhausted. I am constantly crushed by guilt I cannot escape it comes in voices saying to stfu and kill yourself, and at the end of the day, I have too many people who have too many dislikes, and hatreds and death threats to throw at me. So I'm just letting you all know I am exhausted, because I don't know about you but sometimes I feel like nothing is real, I am the only thing that exists, in my head in my head and only bad things happen, because I can think them I think therefore I am. but what scares me is how much sense it makes because if I didn't think it I wouldn't be in this mess, and I don't know how to unthink him, her, her her her her her hating me. so I'm telling you all right now that I am exhausted so you're not surprised-

getting a flour pot filled with glitter and note saying "i give up" makes me want to kill myself.

2011-10-13T15:58:00.001+11:00

honestly.

think before you do things, think before you say things.

and I should say from personal experience think before you write things. But honestly fuck that, because I have paid my dues to you, and I've never hurt her like that.

just because you say sorry doesn't mean everything gets better.

and I'm never going to mean more to you.

i'm never going to be okay with this

i'm never going to be put as your number one person

fuck this fuck that fuck you.

i always seem to lose people in the month of october

2011-10-11T08:29:00.001+11:00

I consistently feel like she's going to talk to me.
and then I realise that she hates me she wants me out of her life, her mind, her head, i'm gone,
I think I'm unsure of everything, because I always seem to lose people in the month of october, so maybe this is just fitting. I just keep getting scared again. I just, I just feel pointless you know? Because only the people who mean everything to you, can really make you feel like that.
but now I'm just angry, because you're doing every single thing you promised you wouldn't.
and you don't ever do anything you say when it comes to me. how come I don't mean anything, what's wrong with me?
and what is irritating me the most is that you don't even have the nerve or decency to tell me to my face that you want nothing to do with me.

at least tell me to stfu and kill myself like they did.

being blocked and deleted by my best friend on facebook makes me feel like shit.

2011-10-08T08:31:00.001+11:00

super cute dragon face

2011-10-05T20:54:00.003+11:00

what do you want me to do? Honestly. I don't get it. It's always "I want to talk to you" "I can't be near you" I don't know what I can do. I'll do anything. I just want you to say it. What do you want? I'll bend over backwards, I'll write letters, I'll never cry, I won't speak, I can shout. I'll stop having episodes, I'll stop being myself. I'll cut parts of me up until I can't tell what's me, and what was. I'll choke, I'll scream. I'll never say another word. Do you want me to fight harder? Do you want me to stop? Do you want me to disappear?

I can do that. I can do that. I will do that. Just tell me what it is, because I can't stand doing something to hurt you, I can't stand you being unhappy with me, I can't stand it, I'm all torn up. I stopped it, because you got nervous. I tried it because you went away and I wanted it to all stop spinning. But that didn't make you like me, that just made you vanish. That's when you told me I was replaceable. I know I am, but you don't have to keep saying it. I'll swallow razorblades and wristwatches, I'll run through crows nests during spring time. I'll lie on highways, covered in ash felt. I'll jump bridges, hide in front of trains, I'll live as the victims in Texas Chainsaw Massacre, American Psycho, Saw, and Jaws.

I just want this to mean something.
but I also want to be okay with myself (don't want to do all those things, unless they bring me you).
and I think you don't want either of those.

but I can't bear to chose.

no closure

2011-10-04T23:24:00.000+11:00

today I was told 'she said she doesn't talk to you that much anymore.'
Like she made an active decision not to, I don't know how I get such importance from a sentence, but she said it like she had given up. Like she knew I had too. Don't you hate it, how as soon as you figure out if they hate you or not, regardless of your feelings, it always hurts. I'm thinking I've kept this in since October, like I said "i'm still so angry at you", and just like everything else in my life it will just be something left unfinished. She is just unfinished.

I will always be not good enough to save her. But that's okay. You've just got to hope he does right?
Or them.

I need to burry myself in wigs, and makeup, and 80's style punk fashion. I have to accept that she and him treat me the same. Regardless of their connection, they never said sorry, without asking.

like he made me ask. Hey, I'm just going to write this but, I did mean it when I said it. When I said all that stuff. I take 2045.6% of the blame. It was all me, all the time, and I guess you didn't know. Because I hate that part of me, and the moment that part of me came back you got scared, and angry.

You hated me just like I did. I think that's what I realised on the bus. I think that's what I realised on the way home on friday. You both hate who I was. Because you don't really know who she was at all.

my rook hurts.

2011-09-29T22:28:00.000+10:00

okay, i’m just going to ramble for the sake of it.

I’m getting mixed messages. not just from situation but from by-standers as well. if you love them, then let them go, so I set aside my heart, and let my head sink into whatever misery I can bare. But then another word chimes and I’m told but if you really can’t see yourself without them, show them. So i start to scream and cry and write letters and blogs and texts and speeches but they aren’t heard, and I’m pulling apart the best parts of me in order to make you love me but to be honest i cant even make myself love me so how can i expect you to?

I think we sometimes i say we because i dont want to always talk about myself put too much into one person, we expect that they can stop bullets, and dry tears, write poems, sneak you out late at night, make you forget the worst, but also best moments you keep holding on to for dear life. But then again, i think that problem is better than expecting too little. I didn't trust someone once, and that time it wasn't myself. I pulled back my past and cried over silly names I was once called. I think its because I'm still too scared of what it is. The first person I told wasn't you or her, or that other guy. It was him.

and it's strange because I know it doesn't mean much to anyone like you, like how seeing you cry should have meant a lot to me.
but you've heard my secrets far too many times,
and I've seen you cry so many times.

and maybe that's all we're good for.

i'm in a town called rosebud

2011-09-28T09:24:00.000+10:00

I need my friends to stand with me right now, I know that sounds very like "off to battle, going to fight a war". But I really do need you guys (s, d, c, l, a, n, m, z, f, k, c, r, t.j,) I need you to keep me from doing stupid things like texting/calling her, or him or them, or yelling, or blogging. I'm sorry for abandoning you all for her. I just love her that's all. But I guess I'm learning not to.

I'm not saying you have to hold my hand and coo me as I cry a ridiculous and stupid amount. I just need a nod or a smile, maybe a hug. I need you to protect me for a bit, I know you are all tired of it, in regards to last year, and I didn't ask for it then. But I'm begging for you to do it now.

I need to know what I'm doing is going to help me. Because honestly this year, I've been so close to not even being anything, and my ~~best~~ friend didn't even say a n y t h i n g , but thats okay I'm a pointless person at heart, I'm critical, overemotional, overreacting, immature, indecisive (I whole heartily accept those parts of me, I can't escape who I was, am, and will be). No person, no single person is allowed to do that to me. Even if they've made a team/game/club/tumblr of it.

it's like who can hurt me more, and act like that there is no consequences. Because I've run out of breathe when it comes to saying bad words. I have never hurt them intentionally. Only once. I think, but I wasn't trying to. I was selfish and trying to say what I needed to in order to be o.k.

but look where that got me:

but I don't mean a thing to the people who used to mean a lot to me.

An Ode to Normalcy.

2011-09-26T23:31:00.003+10:00

Is it just me, or does the point from waking up this morning, to now, just seem so distant?
A lot has happened recently, and for once I think I'm just going to stop talking about it. This is an ode to being in control, and normal and fun, and happy. I am just that, content, sleep deprived and no longer spilling the contents of my brain to people who discuss my blog as a topical point, or in such cases, say that although they understand that I am going through something. I was probably asking for it a little.

I'm not going to bore you with these details.

this is it.

save it kid.

2011-09-24T16:57:00.000+10:00

and it's stupid, because this tiny thing I once called myself is gone, and they tell me things about how to cope:

"The good news about mind blocks and panic attacks is that the chemicals that are produced in response to the stressful stimulus have a short half-life (approximately 30 seconds). This means that if you implement the correct actions, you can unblock the brain networks, and allow for free flow of information within a couple of minutes!"

but thats not me, I don't exist like that. it doesn't go that quickly, where were the 30 seconds during methods? When I was in year eight, when I was her i'll never be her again, I promise I promise (but promises normally mean nothing), or during that morning, or even the train ride? Where were those 30 seconds in china? When those things happened. Where was the moment I looked back at myself in a rational state and I declared my death, and entirety to everything that came before, and I know you all hate suicide but to be in all honesty at times when I am at my worst they are the only ways I can calm my self down; the only way I can believe I can leave, and I know it would hurt, but if I left my shoes and a note that didn't say I was sorry (but rather pointless) would you blame me?

and I guess sometimes I just can't do it anymore, I miss you. But I don't like you. I also don't care at all.

ew this is a gross post. Sanchez get a grip.

▲

an older,

less caring sanchez

uuugh

2011-09-19T16:44:00.000+10:00

Today I considered running away. Yes that sounds cliched and stupid and on most levels my rational side was screaming at me, stop being such a fucking teenage drama. But my eyes are really starting to hurt and Emma told me today that she's leaving, and I don't want to travel to sunny-fucking-who-knows-where just to visit her. But I also don't want to be left alone, I felt like I was back on that epping line so long ago. I cannot speak to anyone but my self. I had an attack for 45 minutes and the teacher just sat there and told me it was all in the past and then he left and I had another.
that's 6 in three days.

and I got called out on some stupid things that I did, and I wish things didn't bother me as much and I wish I wasn't already feeling like crap so I could have apologised, but I wasn't and that's life I guess. I didn't sit with her today because she sat with everyone I hated, and know my mind keeps racing and thinking about stupid things and I just want to stop crying because I'm starting to look like Bear Grylls when he gets stung by wild african bees.

It's not a pretty sight.

your girlfriend's crazy

2011-09-14T19:42:00.001+10:00

all I've ever wanted right now is something substantial. Today I walked to school, my heart raced, my vision went blurry I threw up, continued to go to school, saw her, I ran, I fell, I cried. I just constantly feel like an idiot. I hate every single thing about me at one point or another, I was so frustrated today. I could barely breathe, everyone just makes me so mad, and angry. That's what frustrates me the most, that I know my feeling are irrational, and I'm just being hypervigillant but for fuck sake I feel like I'm suffocating here.

I cannot do this, in fact I sort of refuse. go blog about it. my head hurts.

she's not allowed to handle knives.

2011-09-12T16:11:00.000+10:00

This is Erimenthas Cassie Tag, she lets me do this once a month (and 50 something days late) mainly because she likes me, but also because I'm sort of cool and such. Check out her blog to understand it better. I can't link people because this is fifty days too late. But if you're a follower, DO IT. You'll love it to pieces I swear.

I like boys who glance at me as I get off trams and girls with perfect eyeliner

I like top knots despite the fact everyone has them

I like when we win soccer games

I like fake fights (the plan, the script, the stage we've picked)

I like not feeling entirely stressed about exams (because I'm always stressed I guess)
I like lucid dreaming
I like passive aggressive blog posts. (or at least when I write them)
I like my tumblr, because its the only current update you could get.
I like the days when I don't see you
I like when they suddenly ask about me
I like talking to people in class, without having the assumption that they have to like me.
I like the awkward salute.
I love listening to classical music at Glenroy station at 7pm every thursday night.
Today I faked being okay about two jokes.
In some ways, I love everything.
Its less, its less of a thing to like, its less distinct, its less particular
I like things that I like but I love everything
There’s more choice in like
Cos even the worst things have things you love in them
I don’t know what you mean about things I hate
I hate when people mention anything to do with them
I hate that I can't handle the above
I hate not knowing
I hate that the nosy bitch has the nerve to ask about me
I hate that people I know, that I haven't told personally about this blog continue to read it, even though I'm completely irrelevant to them
but in a way... No I still fucking hate it/you/them.

I hate that she fucking called me pointless, and told me to never speak to her again, and is so fucking shocked that I cannot stand to be in the same room as her.

I hate that I always seem to have nightmares

I hate how they think's its okay to make jokes about me
I hate how I am feeling lately.
I hate this, wow. . .Sorry.
Acknowledge me now, or lose me forever.

pointless.

2011-09-06T21:46:00.000+10:00

Right now, I guess this seems sort of stupid, and in some ways I guess I am probably at fault for that. I know I'm getting ahead of my self and I'm not claiming that you were the one, or that I was smitten, not anything revolving anything to do with that. I'm just saying plain and simple that I've never really felt close to anyone. ever.
and I'd say "I'm sorry, oh my god, I am just so sorry, I don't know why I am saying what I am, but I'm just so sorry" but I've been told countless times in aggressive voices that I shouldn't say that anymore, but then at the same time I've had it screamed at my face till their lungs went raw to repeat myself and its not the kind of closeness I need, I mean, I can barely describe it. I guess this is just my indecisiveness another thing that reminds me of raw lungs and those words...

I know I'm pointless. I know I'm pointless. Sometimes I get so nervous at times I remember words that couldn't be spoken, and I imagined the way she would say it, then I remember the way he said it.
I know I'm pointless

|now I just sit here thinking about how she is about to say it|

I just wanted you all to know because you all deserve so much more than this. It doesn't break my heart. But I sure do hear something shattering.

I'm sorry I'm not enough.

▲

less than what she used to be

these thoughts are cycling

2011-09-04T22:12:00.002+10:00

I am so sick of everyone and myself. I mean, I personally think I hate everyone, but I know it's myself that is making me this way. Everyone is exhausting. I knew this moment couldn't last and everything is just piling on top of each other. What's worse is I know people know this, and I know they are sick of me. I mean I am. and I have to be with me all the time and I practically want to shoot me in the face. I can't get out of this feeling. Its like, I want to lie to everyone really badly. I want them to ask why I catch the tram home now, and I want to tell them my parents divorced and now I live in a share house with a boy and the only way I survive is the fact that I have peeled back all corners of myself, so that I am nothing but a ball bent over backwards. Desperately trying to fit anywhere that I can, but the only place where I feel safe is between the sofa and the Persian rug on the floor.

▲
she can't bare to stand herself

with friends like these

2011-09-01T18:04:00.000+10:00

All my friends moved to new caledonia, I guess I should be used to this by now but for some reason I'm not. I'm being let down in the worst of ways, and erimentha is in canberra. Beglium was upset today, luckily I picked up on it. Lately everyone just seems like a huge effort, which isn't fun.

What's worse is that someone asked a close friend of mine about me. That hurts worse, cause, honestly I don't understand what that achieves, I'd rather them ask me, and sure, I'm probably going to get angry, but by asking someone else... how could you not think I would hear about that? Anyway it just bothers me a lot.

Today i was thinking about romantic notes and it reminded me of this thing that happened in china, and oh god it was just funny and embarressing. Good grief I sometimes feel like a one trick pony. I hate myself so much it's hilarious.

▲

she doesn't like herself very much,

but then again who does?

one day I'm going to be lovely.

2011-08-29T09:07:00.000+10:00

one day I'm going to be lovely. I'm going to be happy (not that I'm not right now) but I'm going to be content with things. I'm going to be stronger much much stronger, in the heart and in the head my feet will be grounded.
I'll have hair below my shoulders and colours to match. My waist might bit a bit smaller, and my clothes might be a bit brighter. I'll live in between a house that's half run down, and a house that's half done up; I'll grow tomatoes, carrots and eggplant and on mondays I'll make bread and pasta and soup for the week to come. I'll stay up late practising lines, or cutting hair, or studying. But I guess, the most important thing, besides my forgotten love of haemoglobin will be what I am. I won't be scared of saying things like "it makes my life" or "aha" I won't quiver when I see no socks, or run out of the room. I won't have these episodes or hate messages or this undying urge to do what I'm always thinking, and writing about.

I might wince a bit about who I was, before I guess. But that's always normal, because from my past experiences I always turn into who I don't want to be, and that eventually makes me happy. I'm just sad because I associate a person with a time that was good, but I keep forgetting how I got there.

People say you can't just be lonely, and want someone, you have to be ready.
I think I was ready. But at the time, I think I knew. I mean I planned in. In that letter I get when I graduate it'll be there written down by my year nine self. It'll say things about this blog and that I should get my first kiss next year and silly things about old friends who write pointless anon questions in hopes that I'll write back despite quote on quote: "I'll leave you alone forever now" Damn. I've confused myself again.

They keep asking me what I want to be by the end of it all.

but what if I say: I just don't want to end it all?

▲
she doesn't know what she wants

every single part of me

2011-08-23T23:23:00.000+10:00

it's hurting me I cannot take this I'm dying I cannot remember if I did it. But i'm pretty sure I didn't and that's what makes it worse, i want to be the person who grows up I- I can't do this.

one thing ruined my day, actually two things did. I shouldn't have checked facebook. I'm deleting it.
I need to do something I'm so upset, this is not activity provoked I did soccer today, I feel shit and awful.

Fed up.

2011-08-21T22:21:00.000+10:00

That's just it. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of people thinking they know whats wrong. Or saying stupid things. I'm sick of hating people for no reason, or for reasons I'm not allowed to hate them for. I hate everyone at the moment, and I can't share that with anyone. I can't share what happened. I can't tell. I hate this. I had an awful day, involving a glance that killed me. That kind of shock horror you don't want to see. That's what I saw, so I ran away and he ran away. Because he can't stand me and I'm so scared of everything.

and then to make it better a teacher came looking for him and asked "he usually sits here doesn't he?" and there was this awkward silence and everyone looked at me to give the answer, I can't remember if I did. But I hate this. I hate this so fucking much I hate my blog, I hate ford, I hate emma.

I hate me.
I hate us.
but in the end,
all I really want to do is hate you.

▲

a really pointless person.

my parents are divorced.

2011-08-18T22:50:00.000+10:00

That soft wrap around of a word that sounds a bit like love but is too careful to say so. I want to be a spoken word poet and hide in places that don't exist, because the first person I thought I loved didn't exist and the next one after that was a smoker, he had a hammer, and took $3.50 from me, and the one after that lost every shred he ever had, tore apart, and is okay now.

So I say this now, with eyes open, heart trembling, I say this now with all the parts of me I've hidden. All that 90% of me that I've locked away, in blogs, and drunken rants, in that moment (the moment when your too influenced to think straight and you imagine what would happen if you called them right now, texted them right now, died right now) it hits you, You drown you start to flail. Sancheziversiary is this week, and it hurts its a day before ours. and My god, my heart, some obscene literature hamlet is, with all this talk of suicide being something incomprehensible.

she wouldn't talk to him today and he talked about cat empire. There's a noise at my window but no ones there. I always used to wish you'd be there, or break in.

But you don't know where i live.

▲

bathtub blues

my watch broke.

2011-08-15T20:11:00.000+10:00

Every now and then, I sit my self up and I think and I mean really think. I think about all the things I have done, all the things I've said, all the things you've said, she said, they said, and continue to say, and then I think of moments, and these moments start coming faster, like something you cannot even fathom, and these moments just hit me, you know? and they cause me to close my eyes, just for a second even though a second can change a lifetime and it forces an expression across my face I've caught myself in the mirror sometimes the faces I make can be hilarious and then it happens: I just sit there and I reflect on everything that has just happened.

I keep wanting to confront you and say stupid insignificant things that don't mean anything to anyone but me. I want closure I already have, I want to blame everything on myself, and that, especially that. In someways I guess I miss your opinion on me, but if you gave it right now I'd tell you to shove it.

I want to tell you that I understand everything was my fault, that I was immature, that I was/am a terrible person, or not in it with my heart, or head, or mind.
but at the same time I want you to deny it. I JUST WANT YOU TO TAKE BACK ALL THE NASTY THINGS YOU SAID. I CARRY THEM WITH ME. THEY ARE SLOWLY EATING ME ALIVE.

▲

all the mistakes she made

I'll tell you that I love you, then I'll tear your world apart.

2011-08-14T18:22:00.000+10:00

Made some lovely mistakes, got impaled by a fence. Bled a lot. Confessed a lie, that was also sort of the truth.

Basically I had a good night, but it was really odd, I guess I don't feel all too confident in explaining what happened. Or who happened. Or whatever, which makes me sort of upset because I know I would tell you everything, but I don't trust some people. Today was weird, it was the first day back, did I mention I was on holidays? I barely posted these past holidays which is worrying. Today was really awful. But not, I really need to vent, because I can't vent to the right people. But I'm hurt, and I hate the fact that I am because I shouldn't. I have no right to be angry. But I am. I'm really upset. She hung out with them at lunch. They said the words I hated. It's tearing me apart, and I know its not her fault, but I cannot handle them.

I don't want to tell her how much its hurting me, or upsetting me, or making me like this. I'm sorry but the way that this is heading... I'm so sorry for what I'm about to do or have done.

I will not make decisions about people by the blogs they keep, I will not make decisions about people by the blogs they keep, I will not make decisions about people by the blogs they keep, I will not make decisions about people by the blogs they keep, I will not make decisions about people by the blogs they keep, I will not make decisions about people by the blogs they keep, I will not make decisions about people by the blogs they keep, I will not make decisions about people by the blogs they keep, I will not make decisions about people by the blogs they keep, I will not make decisions about people by the blogs they keep or the people they sit with at lunchtime, I will not make decisions about people by the blogs they keep, I will not make decisions about people by the blogs they keep, I will not make decisions about people by the blogs they keep, I will not make decisions about people by the blogs they keep, I will not make decisions about people by the blogs they keep, I will not make decisions about people by the blogs they keep, I will not make decisions about people by the blogs they keep,

▲

---

I lost my dream journal.

2011-08-13T15:32:00.000+10:00

You know those movies, where the people go back in time to fix everything, but then go forward in time and everything is awful or bad or they preferred the way it was before, so they keep going back and changing different things. Well it was kind of like that I guess. But I knew it wasn't real. But I did it anyway. I changed things, and I explained things and instead of them getting angry they just put their arms around me I almost felt sick at how real and familiar it was and told me that it was probably going to happen regardless, but they loved me right then and now they were always so sensible when it came to these things, and in my mind I kept screaming "you're going to regret this, stop this right now, stop it, stop it stop it" and I can't explain what happened next because it was this strange mixture of things that go wrong and places I wish I had gone with them when I had the chance. It was like new heart ache all over again.

▲

----

these posts are always staggered

2011-08-12T07:40:00.000+10:00

I'm about to publish a post, that quite frankly. I'm scared to.
Not that its necessarily bad, just that it means a lot, and nothing at the same time. I tried for it to mean nothing. But if it did, why would I care? I might as well just post it. I'm scared for someone, and I'm trying hard, really hard, to remember what its like to be in their situation.

2011-08-11T22:00:00.000+10:00

I want to die, not joke right now. I want to curl up in a little ball and just keep curling until each part of me which disappears just. vanishes, like the ceshsire cat. I am tired, but I am scared of my dreams. They are violent. I cannot sleep. I cannot do anything right. I am sick. I can barely breathe. I am overheating I feel like punching everyone there is a bump on my hand I hate this OIGDHVVVVVbf

the only place I call home is a place that doesn't exist

2011-08-10T21:35:00.000+10:00

and I'm scared it never will.

I know how ridiculous that sounds, but truth be told its the only truth I know. I feel the need to write down what I think are "important thoughts" when really I'm probably the only one who understands or, really even cares. "You are a good person. But not good enough" on a brighter note, or really I should say on another note, I haven't really been reading what I've been posting, but today I glanced at the last post called "fucking shoot me" (wow I'm lovely aren't I?) anyway, its so odd because all those feelings. I'm feeling right now. Kind of like I've just done a full circle, the the stages of grief. but over and over again. I guess the point of everything is to try and break the cycle.

Also there's this window near my house that has a sign up telling people to slip their secrets under the door, and they are all on display. I read it every time I walk past and I kind of smile. One of my favourites is like "I posted a secret under the door, it's not actually mine, its from postsecret... But I'm not the only one" I have an undying urge to post about five. I've already written them, just want to make them pretty, because it costs less then sending a letter. But I'm a lazy person so I probably won't. I had an attack today, after I lit my hair on fire (by mistake) but it wasn't about that. it was about another wall post. I've decided I'm going to quit facebook again once holidays are over, its killing me. Not like its taking over my life but its making me into some strange obsessive and pretty much neurotic person.

and its not meant to do that... right?

▲

----

i'm always in the same place

2011-08-09T19:14:00.000+10:00

its getting worse and worse and worse.
I'm fucking falling apart, and they aren't noticing, why the fuck aren't they noticing? I swear I'm going crazy. No, like actually. I think I'm reading way too much into things but I'm not. I'm being forgotten or ignored and that's the fucking scariest thing of all, I thought I was here but I'm not and I knew it was weird the moment she looked at me and hugged me after the bathroom, and I pushed her away and subsequently walked away.

I'm not apart of any thing again.
and maybe I shouldn't want to.

When they come to take us,

stab them between the eyes.

Do not take your hand from around mine.

Make a fist with the other, and punch spines like guilds, spit, sweat and kiss them like a grandmother. Howl open mouthed terror love filled.

And when they come to cut our hair and ask to hear pennince come from inside us,

say with me loud and trembling,

but loud and clear:

"i have already emptied myself. I kissed regret goodbye, took the hands of another backwards angel, and rode backwards into the rain"

When the hangman of morrow comes to hang the sun in its daily execution say this with me: "'Sarah we are apples, our love is an apple;" i'm unbuttoning my shirt; painting a circle over my heart, please,, just shoot straight.

▲

----

it's never going to work

2011-08-08T18:18:00.001+10:00

so far, the only place where I feel safe is somewhere between a corner and a cliff thats at the bottom of everything. Those silent nights seem somehow so different. I dreamt of something that killed me, and I couldn't control a thing. My mum gave me a shit load of pills and I cried until I couldn't stop, and right now that doesn't make any sense, but I promise you. I promise every single one of you... I'm just not sure anymore.

I have not been the most anxious as I have been, but at the same time, I have been the most scared I have ever been in my life. Sometimes I wonder where I'm meant to go from here. Or if I will even go anywhere as far as I want to. Because these moments right now are meant to be my holidays. These silent moments are meant to let me kiss regret goodbye, because in all honesty I have already emptied myself from everyone.

I'm always pleading for something that I need, or want, or something that's just down right honest. But percentages of the good and bad don't mean a thing to me, and I was told I was missed by a girl I'm pretty sure and it broke my heart because I didn't want it from her, and I wanted it from everyone else who had left me. I used to regret leaving but I don't now. Now that someone has left me. I just want to have this moment when I'm feeling grand or not so odd.

I just want to be sanchez again.

▲

---

like always

2011-08-07T19:18:00.000+10:00

I'm going to tell you the truth, no bullshitting or anything. I walked to the tram stop after school today like I do most days and its probably the worst part of my day most days.

So I waited for my tram, and they are there, like always fuck you mcdonalds seriously fuck off and I move away from the tram shelter like always and I wait, and wait and wait. The tram comes, I get on, got to sit or stand as far away from them, but they always seem to be so close to me like always.

So I turn my music up louder that's the obvious way to ignore it and I start shaking, the uncontrollable kind I get. So I look away, tap my fingers the one two three four five five one two two five five. The girl across from me is asleep but the girl next to her keeps looking at my hands; wrapped tightly around my ipod, shaking so badly they caused the song to change, and change and change.

I stumble off the tram catching the glimpse of one of their eyes, I turn away. like always. The tram leaves.
I fall down.

they will always ask you why didn't you love today.

▲

sanchez

harsh truth.

2011-08-04T20:36:00.000+10:00

I guess I've kind of realised that, in the end this is the end
I'm never going to be the one to speak, or look or smile your waymaybe its because I was burned but mainly its because I cannot breathe. which in its self is regretful. but great minds think alike and my heart is to big for my body
and I could never, in my mind imagine you to be the one to face your fears head on even if I'm not a fear I'm certainly no source of comfort

which leads us to this spiral of: I give you no chance (no choice no hope) of ever redeeming anything, in which you too, avoid all especially me and thus despite being what can only be described as my own manifestation of an orchestrated insanity that is of course within my own head what isn't these days?

I am a mess.

▲

sanchez

forced post

2011-08-02T15:58:00.000+10:00

sometimes when I'm alone I close my eyes and count to ten. I pretend that I can cope, and I practice doing silly things like letting go and indian breathing, and if that doesn't work, maybe if I whisper, it'll become true.

my mum has this little tiny jewellery container, with roses on the top, its porcelain and its probably a bit bigger then a circle you can make with your thumb a forefinger. I opened it a day a go, just to see again my grandmothers jewellery, I'm not sure why. My mum used to have a big box of it before I was born, she hid it under her bed and when she was 30 or something a burglar stole it.

my grandmother died before I was born. I'm not sure why this is affecting me now? it's not really a big deal. I just never met her, and I don't really have much of her around. I just keep thinking about it. Haemorrhaging. Its weird word. and its almost like haemoglobin. Which is my favourite word. But its not a great thing. When I was little my mum used to try and explain it. She said her mother was very tall, and one day she had a headache, and a haemorrhage, is kind of like theres a chain of nerves (which she called bubbles) and one popped, and that pop caused the other ones to pop like dominos falling over, and then Pop! went her brain. and she died.

I guess, thats not entirely the scientific way that it happens. and I guess if you've ever seen skins. That bit, where chris dies. I can't watch. I always leave the room. Skip it. Mute it. Block my eyes and ears, or unfocus my eyes. because I don't want to know what a haemorrhage is. It makes it all too real.

I think I'm scared of real.

▲

sanchez

here's hoping

2011-07-31T20:28:00.000+10:00

Today is soon to be yesterday, yesterday is over, it’s a different day, and things are brighter as always. My heart is too small for my body. But my rage is too big for anything or anyone to comprehend.

Holland told me of a boy I’m meant to love and I stared at her with wide eyes. Bright eyes. I’m going to see him. She bumped into my bag, I started panicking. But I stopped that by running out of the shop. He borrowed money for potato cakes.

How ironic. She tried to flirt, he blew her off. I wonder if they would ever be together. It sometimes scares me that maybe they aren’t because of me. Or maybe they are, but won’t tell me.

Sometimes I’m not sure which one is worse. I’m feeling light headed again. I had a fight with the parents last night, I scratched my head till something broke bled its all the same these days, and I felt sickly.

I get scared of those moments. When I hold my breath and… well, it’s hard to explain but those moments are so much worse then anything I’ve been put through by anyone else. Even the fence I jumped, or the skate bowl. I hope Holland is right. I hope I do like this boy. I hope my parents don’t find out I’m missing classes.

I hope I can keep skipping.
I hope I stop myself from punching her in the face.

I hope I never work up the courage to get angry with them.

I hope I’m always going to be talk.

I hope I get high soon.

I hope I get drunk soon

I hope I die soon.

I hope I’m going to be alright.

I hope everything is going to be alright.

▲

sanchez

a lie in itself

2011-07-29T21:09:00.000+10:00

I stood at the tram stop. Hoping with all hell that what I know will happen. Won’t happen. But it does, of course, I feel sick. Like I can’t breathe. Got to hold my breath. I was only joking this Thursday afternoon, I swore I was okay, and as they all get off. (Finally I can think again) Green Eyes looks at me and says “Do you still hate him?” and the only thing I can thing I can say is “no of course not” but I start crying instead, and I fall down the step. And I can’t breathe and my mind starts rushing and I swore to myself I wouldn’t have one today. Not a real one. I thought I was okay, but oh my god, I had to stop myself. I wonder what I’ll say to him tomorrow.

Its like they expect me to have some divine revelation. Like they expect me to finally realize what has been wrong with me all a long, and sure in all honesty that’s probably the right thing to expect, but I’ve been like this for so long, and I don’t want to point the blame anyone, or anyone moment. I guess what I really don’t want is to blame myself for everything. Because lets get real here: I let this happen. And if I could change anything in my life. I would change everything.

Because whatever the fuck is wrong with me.

Ruined most of my life so far.

and its my fault.

▲

sanchez

names, new places.

2011-07-28T16:29:00.000+10:00

I’ve been trying really hard to be something different. But I keep hitting the pavement (literally). A few days ago I talked to Holland about Roses & Potatoes. I guess I was speaking so loudly I didn’t notice them walking, and smack bang my head hits the floor.

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if things were different. This week has been solely about me trying to let go. Which is really breaking me. I keep arguing with Jude and Rachael. They frustrate me beyond belief, and despite everything that Spain is going through, I still worry about her. I worry what will happen after everything. I don’t want Cali to leave.

Milan has been running her mouth in the worst of ways. She keeps making squawks like her opinion on me matters. Like seriously? Do you understand anything? Her and Alabaster sometimes give me the biggest… frustration. It’s too late in the night to do anything but rant about things I hate. I have no Internet at the moment, which is absolutely horrid. I fucking hate this. I worry about Bristol too. India still isn’t here.

▲

sanchez

guessing games

2011-07-27T11:03:00.000+10:00

I’m not quite sure what to say. I have to buy hiking shoes on Thursday but that means I have to cancel. I’m not sure whether cancelling will break me in pieces, because although I kind of resent it. I’m petrified of what I am without her. She called me Emma and I laughed at her, saying “No wait, that’s your name” but she stared at me in silence and the girl who always mumbles said something about a chair being too expensive and her mum took her to Emma’s and she smiled and talked normally.

I stared for what seemed like eternity, but not. I always sit there and watch people enter that room and kind of wonder what’s wrong with them. Which makes me feel awful, but its also kind of fun: OCD, Manic Depression, Schizophrenia, Abuse, Sexual confusion, Depression, Anxiety and then… maybe they just want to get away. Sometimes I sit there and pretend to have a problem that I don’t have. I feel like that person is becoming more and more real.

▲

sanchez

useful.

2011-07-26T21:35:00.000+10:00

Sleepover last night. It was exhaustingly hot. In all honesty, I’m not sure what to say, because we both knew what was next, fingers lingering, avoiding the eye contact, the nose brush and as I tried to remember my breathing exercises, hands intertwined, and I felt his heart beat through everything. In my mind, I knew something was different, because being sober shows everything in different light, and I trembled, kissed, pulled away. Because I didn’t even know him. He didn’t know me. I just needed a bed, and despite everything I didn’t want him to cuddle me, I wanted him to leave me. But I gave in. I always do.

But its funny, because for once in my life I’m using people to get by.

And praying to whoever will listen; that no one gives a fuck.

▲

sanchez

don't ever do this.

2011-07-25T08:38:00.000+10:00

Sometimes, patients don’t wake up from surgery. Not because they are dead. But because… well actually, I don’t really know. I’ve been anxious all day, and I cried it out. With much hysteria from my school board. I’m sick to death of it, I’m sure most of them all know. And there was this moment when I was crying and all I heard was them, and their noise, I’m unsure whether they were staring at each other in silence, or whether I could actually hear them crying in sync. Sometimes I’m not exactly sure what to believe when it comes to my mind. Not to say that I’m crazy. I’ve been told many times that I am not crazy. Which is less comforting than you would expect. I’m starting to believe the opposite.

▲

sanchez

the day I wrote this I threw my ipod at a brick wall.

2011-07-24T13:06:00.000+10:00

you hurt me, in all honesty you hurt me. In a way I'm not sure I'm ever going to really be... normal with you again. Because, although that was you at your worse, even if it was a split second, a moment in time, something you regret.
because it just so happens it was also that second when, I really needed you too.
and its not just you. Because they kept it from me too, and although its understandable, I mean who wants to be the bearer of bad news? But, none of you told me, you all expect me to sweep in under the rug. Well guess what? You can fucking hide from me but I'm never going to trust any of you like I should again.
So this is my pledge. To never say what I think to anyone like you ever again.
I've been kind of doubting where I fit, and you know me, I'm always trying to find the signs that point me in the ways I'm meant to go.

and your actions just happened to be those signs. and so yeah, I know you didn't mean it, I can imagine you not wanting it to mean it. But when it comes right down to it. You did it. You mean't it.

and I have things to remind me of that.

what it felt like before

2011-07-24T00:05:00.001+10:00

this is erimentha's cassie tag.
eri created it, inspired by cassie ainsworth from skins therapy video.
she let's me do it whenever cause she loves me.
I like boys who walk me home and girls who lie, and tell me everything's going to be alright

I like missing classes

I like secret plots to leave

I like knowing that my hair gives off the impression that I'm fucked.

I like that the system is trying to get better
I like that I'm trying to be better (not get better)
I like how they are dating
I like how far I have taken this but don't worry I'll take this further, I'll take everything you've fucking got

I like that I feel better with people who don't know anything.

I like peanut m'n'm's

I like hearing someone say "that's not right" in regards to how you've been treated

I like aeroplanes, monkeys, and vomiting.

I love that she used the words "outraged" "disgusted" and then slammed the soft serve on the counter when he made her one but couldn't do the swirl.

Today I confirmed my fears, and was taken out of class.

In some ways, I love everything.

Its less, its less of a thing to like, its less distinct, its less particular

I like things that I like but I love everything

There’s more choice in like

Cos even the worst things have things you love in them

I don’t know what you mean about things I hate

I hate that B.H. always says the wrong fucking things

I hate that even if I asked, they would deny.

I hate that I hate my group sometimes, or at least the people who aren't getting whats happening.

I hate vomiting

I hate scars.

I hate everyone

I hate H.S is now like Florence but in a way, I'm so fucking used to being scared of people

I hate that no one can be bothered trying anymore.

I hate that I can't be bothered either.

I hate this, wow. . .
Sorry.
▲
sanchez

rock bottom

2011-07-22T15:44:00.000+10:00

so now, I'm pretty sure, without clarification,
my emotional state is soon to hit rock bottom, and the sad thing is I prepared myself I knew something was going to happen, and I knew they were going to start turning me away.
so here it fucking is guys. I'm fucking turning the fuck away, are you happy?

I got called out of class to listen to a guy tell me if its good enough for Rihanna its good enough for me. and I thought "you are such a fucking wanker" Good grief if I don't kill myself in the next 3 days I don't know what will.

here's hoping I can make someone cry.

2011-07-20T20:06:00.000+10:00

ever single fucking thing about you is fucked up beyond belief.
beyond me.

so paint me a fucking picture of what you were expecting my reaction to be.

let it go

2011-07-19T22:20:00.000+10:00

in all honesty, and yes, I do mean in all honesty, I'm not sorry. I hate this, I hate passive aggression, I am not apart of this group anymore and for that I guess maybe I am sorry. I hate the fact that this is how my mind is working, I don't want to apologise anymore my head keeps spinning. They make me feel like...
I know I'm in the wrong. I'm always in the wrong. I just. I don't think I can get any worse. I spun so fast on a teacup that my head began to spin and then I lost all feeling of self respect.

and I'm not sure what to say to make them realise that. Which is stupid because they'll read this maybe... in fifty something days, and maybe they'll get mad again, or maybe I'll be dead by then or gone or somewhere. I just feel that this, whatever it is, I need something more, like maybe not closeness but something that obviously my mind doesn't let me have without a fight, I'm not sure I've ever really had it.
Because who knows. I guess that's a bit drastic but I mean I might not exactly be in the same place. In a lot of ways this is the end and start of what is yet to come.

but I've just got to let it go by then.

"throw it out"

"you don't want it?"

"I don't need it"

▲

sanchez

a truth in itself

2011-07-18T19:09:00.000+10:00

Dear you,

I’m sorry; I don’t think I can do this anymore. I think, I think maybe its time I go somewhere else. I don’t feel like I can do anything anymore, I mean, to make everything okay. I think I have to pack myself up (pick up all the pieces that you know) and leave, because what you see. I mean really see, is not even the half of it. I’ve done too much. That’s the way I do it. Everything makes me want to break apart. And I’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry. And I mean it, because I don’t know what to say besides that. And I guess that’s how you end something. You say sorry and walk away.

I’m just sick of being the person having to do so.

▲

sanchez

new names

2011-07-17T16:47:00.001+10:00

this weekends gone by so fast. A lot has happened this week. I'm being stalked by the co-ordinators. ____ been in contact more regularly recently and to an extent this makes me over the moon happy. But it also makes me nervous. I hate that I feel awful talking to her. It's like something forced. Like it should be something I feel relieved about afterwards, but really it just leaves me feeling like I forgot something.

I went out friday night with Hometown and O.T. (loving the new names right?) we were hit on by cars and even India decided to come for a bit. We didn't get home till 3.30am and I had to get up for chinese the next day.
I was so tired. It was awful. I'm always feeling awful.

Went to lentils for saturday night, then got thoroughly intoxicated with a few of them. It was a good weekend. School photos tomorrow.
It'll be great and I'm boring as hell.

▲

sanchez

nothing comes from nothing.

2011-07-16T18:49:00.000+10:00

I'm not sure whether I should take myself seriously anymore. I'm not sure I can consider myself entirely real anymore. I get scared of invisible people. people are there, they're going to get me. Finally I've done something right, in the wrong and my throat stings something hideous.

I wonder in 50 something days, if I will still look at this, like I'm meant to.
I hope I keep posting.
I hope I'm still here.

I'm so fucking scared.

▲

sanchez

trying to keep posting.

2011-07-16T01:24:00.000+10:00

and the only thing I keep saying to myself is "the only person who ever loved me was" and I keep finishing that sentence differently. and sometimes I said myself, and other times I would ramble. My throat is caught. I don't want them to know this is my thing and it hurts for them to know get the fuck out of my life

---

Hey guys, it's sanchez (or whatever) here. As you can see, I'm tired, and worn out from this whole blog thing. I'm tired of cryptics. Because of that. I'm going to just publish the rest of the fifty days without writing anything more. So eventually, soon, you will catch up with me. I love you all a lot. I've deserve all the hate, misgivings. I'm not exactly nice. But yes. I've come to terms with that. I hope you are all safe and well.

p.s. thank you for everyone who entered WJDKYY.

The winners will be announced in a month or so, as well as an unveiling of the new WJDKYY

run by me, and a former long lost sibling.

I'm so fucking scared.

2011-07-06T13:46:00.001+10:00

My head aches from everything, and it hurts so fucking bad. I can't describe it. Its like. Like something I don't understand, and I'm not sure who saw, or what saw, or what's wrong with me, all I know is that I kept going without caring. I can't. I won't.

My heart my head.
nothing makes much sense anymore. He kept talking about beanbags, and offered a marsbar.

I declined. and broke down instead.

▲

sanchez

tangerine pants

2011-07-02T21:37:00.000+10:00

Now I am packing up all the boxes, all the things, all those bits and pieces like those books, sketch notes, whatever you'd like to call them, and in most ways its a relief, but a stress nevertheless, what's life without stresses anyway? I like how that word is one word, despite that its three. I am I could be threepartsapart from you.
and you could barely notice. Anyway, enough with the cryptics.

Went on an adventure today, to the new savers in Mill Park. (I know, we were afraid of getting cut, don't worry we didn't) we almost got lost, it rained. I brought a shit load of things (including amazing blood orange pants, I know sounds gross but trust my taste they are very super heaps good). Then we brought food and short changed the waitress 50 cents. At a really good cafe, so I feel bad. I need to pay M and S back. Starting in a few days I'm renaming everyone. Almost everyone. So be prepared. Or at least. I may start talking about you, but you might not exactly know who each person is.

that might just make my life.

▲

sanchez

current #4/3 whatever.

2011-06-30T22:49:00.001+10:00

I'm sorry for being a shit blogger, I'm going to continue posting my fifty days soon, and I'll start writing again. Because I haven't done that in such a long time.

I miss you all, even though you don't really have to miss me.

FUCK YOU FOR LEAVING ME WHEN I FUCKING NEEDED YOU.

2011-06-28T08:44:00.000+10:00

can you all just stop? please, can you stop trying to break my heart, it's already happened, and I'm stupid and selfish and I can't control that in anyway. I'm just, breaking here. Like actually. I can't stop dreaming about you putting words in my mouth. I'm sick of my friends thinking that I get myself into these situations. I have blocked them from my life and they keep coming back just to hurt me. I want to believe that's not the case but its getting really fucking hard. I really need some form of escape.

but I don't want to say sorry again.

2011-06-22T23:13:00.000+10:00

I would gladly tell you everything. but everyone has found my tumblr.

I hope you are happy.

Current#2

2011-06-21T21:58:00.000+10:00

YOU ONLY HAVE A FEW DAYS LEFT TO ENTER YOUR SUBMISSION TO BECOME APART OF "WE JUST DON'T KNOW YOU YET" PLEASE HURRY I NEED YOU.

current#1

2011-06-20T22:56:00.001+10:00

THE SCARIEST THING ABOUT FOREVER, THE END, AND PRETTY MUCH EVERYTHING; IS NEVER QUITE KNOWING WHERE IT ALL BEGAN.

2011-06-15T20:19:00.002+10:00

this is current and this is real, and oh my god my heart is hurting too much for me to handle right now. I really love you all, and I'm not sure what I've done wrong this time. I seem to always do wrong things any piss people off without even trying. I told her I don't care about it, because I don't want to lose her as a friend, she is one of my closest friends and I don't even mind. But all these people are telling me they hate me and they don't care if I die, but could I please just shut the fuck up. (in their words "kill yourself or stfu, I don't care")

I'm so so sorry. I can't do this for a while.
if ever. I'm so sorry.

we are worse than what they warned.

2011-06-13T22:53:00.001+10:00

"I would like to reach out my hand

I may see you, I may tell you to run

You know what they say about the young

Well pick me up with golden hands

Oh may see you, Oh may tell you to run

You know what they say about the young"

Maybe that's just it. These moments when they snuff, and ask are the moments I am made of. I'm sick and tired arent we all these days? of people saying such absurd things, because we aren't born with glitter in our veins, much to m & eri's despair, we aren't the kids your parents warned us about, we would rather see hip bones then eat another chip.

and we aren't anything very special, because what good is crying when there's no reason for it anymore, what good is the fear she's implanted if she doesn't take action, and you've got to sit there.

No I mean it, you've really got to sit down and sit there and think. Think about those last moments, the bit where you promised you would spill everything, every last drop, right down till your lungs are raw and damaged, and he rides bikes near her and they do handstands and I get hooks and fake pregnancies don't ask never tell. so heres the problem that I'm facing, that I'm pretty sure we're all facing.

where the fuck were you?

because we fucking need you.

and I'm not the way I should be, but no one is anymore.

▲

sanchez

2011-06-12T02:46:00.000+10:00

here it comes little darlings, spotted, florence, dh and loose lips.
my head starts to spin and my god there goes my breakfast. again. fuck you bodily systems.
Got make sure I don't walk near them, but here it goes, and I cross the road, almost get hit, I hate when my mind goes frantic, friday is going to fix the worst parts of me. I feel like my brains too big for my head, and not in the I'm smarter than you way, but in the I think I'm haemorrhaging way. the way my grandma died, chris died.
eri wasn't at school today.

▲

sanchez

valentine too late.

2011-06-08T16:58:00.000+10:00

so today is that day, not really all that important. I got the best late birthday present ever. it makes me very happy. though it certainly encourages hoops opinion on me. I had so many ideas, I always do, but today I kind of let it go, I mean I never verbalised them, and in someways it was the end of two things. Kind of.

and this might seem weird but I'm sort of sick of this, I want my heart to be too small for my body, I want to feel this in the marrow, in the core, in the kind of way that makes your haemoglobin shake, and stutter. I want words to never cease to spilling from mouths, and I want them to say the things that we always kind of wished we didn't.

in all honesty I keep seeing that quote "we stopped being afraid of the monsters under our beds when we realised they were inside of us" but no, fuck that. I am terrified, so terrified of the idea of something out my window, of zombies, of eyes, of her, of him, of any contact whatsoever, I'm scared, petrified even, of my current situation, of my inability to explain properly, of the dizziness, the breathlessness, of my grudges, and my feelings, of the future, school, relationships and I am so fucking hopeless.

and I want to leave right now, no exception.

▲
sanchez

Barriers.

2011-06-05T21:02:00.001+10:00

Fake allergies, bmw's, cops that understand what its like to be underage.

3 caves, and a break down later, I spilt words I didn't even really mean. That's what happens I guess. But it was good, to an extent, no need to feel abused, taken advantage of or pressured. If anything it doesn't matter.
I almost cried about barriers, about the things I say and don't. About the things I do and don't. That I'm sorry I can't and I wish with all my heart I could. But I won't. Because what I know, or at least what I'm supposed to know is its meant to be special, not rushed, or outside or something. But I kind of wish it would just pass. That I can forget things now.

close your eyes, hear no, speak no, see no.

just for now, at least.

▲

sanchez

not a thing to me.

2011-06-02T21:49:00.000+10:00

sometimes things hurt a lot and you can't really explain why, and I know you can or you think you can, or maybe in all honesty you try to but like this sentence i keep writing they won't because it hurts, hurts too much,

This is the moment that you know

That you told her that you loved her but you don't.

You touch her skin and then you think

That she is beautiful but she don't mean a thing to me.

Yeah, she is beautiful but she don't mean a thing to me.

so when she does things, you can barely even say the truth, you wish you could say things like "yeah I think about that a lot" "yes I considered that" "help me now". But I guess i'm not the only one because instead people like me write blogs and complain and wish someone would see past whatever we have put up inside of us blood tissue haemoglobin,

All I see are dark Grey clouds

In the distance moving closer with every hour

So when you ask "Is something wrong?"

I think "You're damn right there is but we can't talk about it now.

No, we can't talk about it now."

and I guess in the end maybe it isn't all that bad. I mean, hey. At least I look happy. I mean, to an extent. I am. So fucking happy. I mean whats worse seeing things that aren't real or dreaming of things you wish were. I'm not sure of that question either.

things keep telling I'm not my fears. those don't define me.
then what the fuck does? surely not this? Too many people break this. I break this. He broke this I'm so fucking sick of myself.

So one last touch and then you'll go

And we'll pretend that it meant something so much more

But it was vile, and it was cheap

and you are beautiful but you don't mean a thing to me

yeah you are beautiful but you don't mean a thing to me.

▲
sanchez

his arms are just a bit longer then me.

2011-06-01T09:08:00.000+10:00

almost stopped walking, and instead looked back for approval.
all I got was a "sanchez don't look so scared". but I wasn't scared. I was sick, angry and tired.
but thats okay, I went home for lunch with dw. we talked confessed, and walked closely. kind of like we were scared someone might just see us for who we actually are.

I handed a note that wasn't by who it said it was, and they almost called. but didn't.

missed a train. ran, hid books, caught a train. went there.
pushed a number. signed forms. talked. cried. answered.

went home. today was lovely.

▲

sanchez

I believe that you do, how foolish I was.

2011-05-28T16:10:00.000+10:00

in my head and my heart, as we drove past it started racing,

don't look, keep going, light turn green turn green turn faster. but it didn't and I didn't.

So looked within all its dimness, maybe I won't see it, maybe it isn't there.

my heart sunk and I realised for once it wasn't anger, but really fear,

fear is in my bones.

ambush

2011-05-26T08:32:00.000+10:00

I cannot even understand. I can't fathom sounds, words or anything. I know myself. I knew myself so very very well. too well, I think, thats what happens. so I broke, shattered and in someways a lot of ways, most ways, I still am. But then you turn to me, and in my mind I'm saying you guys weren't friends with him, fuck off. I was. I was his friend and he did this. I was nice, you're all fake. ~~I hate you.~~

tell me to get over this grudge and next you should be telling me to get over myself. Because I'll be gone by then. and to be honest, in all honesty, I cannot even tell you things anymore. Everything I say sounds cheap. I need something new. Someone. Help. Fuck. Why aren't you here?

you kept it from me. breaks my heart breaks my heart.

what if I made the same accusation when you were uncertain that he ever loved you too?
but no. you just attack attack attack. I know I will forgive you eventually but I hope you realise how fucking wrong that was. and how much fucking bullshit you speak sometimes. You hurt me.

go places.

2011-05-24T22:09:00.000+10:00

I'm not exactly sure what to say. Not like that's something different to normal. I'm just, so very very scared. Tomorrow I go back to school and although I've been preparing myself (through dreams and thoughts and anti-wishful thinking) I don't feel ready. I'm about to be sick, so very very sick,

But it'll get better, I know it. I keep jumping between saying I'm going to get better, and fuck this shit. Its a fun mix. I saw a girl, white shoes black tips. Panic attack. I know her I know her. hid in general pants and co (my least favourite place to go sometimes). But I'll be okay, contemplated saying hello. Decided not to. She probably doesn't like me anyway.

The New Pornographers are my favourite. Really.

Come with me, go places.

▲

sanchez

all the things I said.

2011-05-22T22:40:00.000+10:00

Sometimes I cant express the way I am through percentages .

Life Lesson (Alfalfa):

up and coming dates.

Eastern Europe, and possibly the asian pacific region.

Botswana, duckling & bunny

Eri

Zhi Hui

Katherine

Viet & Rom-Com

All the things I wish I said.

to the world

To myself.

▲
sanchez

the real, honest, truth.

2011-05-21T15:58:00.000+10:00

my hearts becoming too big for my body,
too big for the pieces of me I know I should keep.
so I keep throwing them away.
and away.

because despite everything. I don't believe in that anymore. I don't believe, and it feels really fucking magical to say. All those things that were whispered to me. All those hands being held. I don't believe
I don't believe in drunken visits. I don't believe in hands on waists, I don't believe in anything that remotely resonates with the words that I will never utter, because I never uttered them to you.

(thats one thing I'm proud of.)

▲

sanchez

something short.

2011-05-18T23:14:00.000+10:00

its not like I'm upset, thats not the word I want to use.
for someone who feels the need to express themselves in the form of writing or precentages (900% anixious 26% hysterical) I sure don't seem to find the right words freaked out, fuck off, argentina, rom com, viet, D.W. cc's, Fat E.

▲

sanchez

you can't do this without me.

2011-05-16T22:47:00.000+10:00

This is for the two-year-olds who cannot be understood

because they speak half-English and half-god.

shake the dust.

for the ones who are told to speak only when you are spoken to

and then are never spoken to.

speak every time you stand so you do not forget yourself.

do not let a moment go by that doesn't remind you that your

heart beats 900 times a day

and that there are enough gallons of blood to make you an ocean.

do not settle for letting these waves settle and the dust to collect in your veins.

there is joy in how your mouth dances with your teeth.

your mouth is a sign of how sacred your life truly is

my heart was too big for my body so I let it go

and most days this world has thinned me to where I am just another cloud forgetting another flock of swans but...

believe me when I tell you my soul has squeezed into narrow spaces.

at times am filled with fear, but like a hallway, must find the strength to walk through it.

walk through this with me.

walk through this with me.

What made the beauty of the moon?

And the beauty of the sea?

Did that beauty made you?

Did that beauty make me?

Will that make me something?

Will I be something?

Am I something?

And the answer comes:
already am, always was, and I still have time to be.

▲

sanchez

sorry for the inconvenience

2011-05-11T23:46:00.001+10:00

sometimes it hurts to hear the ones you love complain about how they are just going to fade away.
but at the same time I feel sorry for everyone else who might care a bit about me, because that's exactly what I'm doing.

but I'm going to make you hate me first.

▲

sanchez

this is what I wanted to say

2011-05-08T16:14:00.001+10:00

really? You're going to talk to me now. When I'm like this? When I'm shit faced and you're composed standing around like I'm crazy and you need to talk to me in private. Get your friends to talk to me first. Suss that shit out. Oh wow thanks. Now lets ambush. Tell it to me straight. You're hurt? Too bad. I'm hurt. You shouldn't have read my blog. Its understandable that you did.

but you had no right. No fucking right.

he is the one that hurt me. Hurt me.
so in all honesty what the fuck did he except. Epic ballads of how I'll always love him? No. Fuck that.
I tried that replace love with like. At the end of the day this is my safe place that he wasn't meant to see because he never made me feel safe enough to show him, and clearly now for good reason. not that its his fault I'm like this, I was broken before I meant him. I just hide it really well.

This is some place he won't understand. Because this is something really really hard to say, something I've been told to write for reasons I was never ever going to explain to him GP's suggest silly things sometimes. The closet he ever got to knowing was the day I ran out crying because they called me a name. Thats as close as he got, and that was before.

You all are never going to know a flying fuck about me.

WJDKYY: Recruiting!

2011-04-30T14:47:00.003+10:00

Hey there guys. This is a current post. (this doesn't happen very often.)

I'd just like you all to know: we just don't know you yet is recruiting again!

Wait?

WHAT!

You don't even know what that is?

Well why don't you just go have a look.

So you've done that? Yeah good. Well, I'm about to start looking for some new recruits for this here lovely sentimental blog of mine. So I've decided to hold a competition (otherwise known as recruitment phase) to find new (or old) bloggers who would be interested in writing on this blog for a couple of months. It's a very neat way to meet new bloggers, get some writing momentume, and just be a part of a really special blog of mine.

So you're interested? Well here's the deal:

1. You have to be a follower of We Just Don't Know You Yet & this blog to be able to enter.

2. choose one of the images below marked 1 to 5.

3. write a short post inspired by your chosen image

4. Publish your post on your blog, and link back to here & WJDKYY

5. Comment here with the link and your email.

competition closes June 23rd.

Four to Five winners will be chosen,

and they will be asked to join WJDKYY, if they'd like.

image #1

image #2

image #3

image #4

image #5

If you have any enquires about the blog, competition and or its rules comment or email me at

theinkyfingerfiles(at)hotmail(dot)com

Side note: Current or past members are welcomed to enter! (in fact they are encouraged)

Also, if you're looking for some inspiration check out last years competition entries (links can be found in the comments):

happy blogging!

▲

sanchez

if she hits me I'll hit her right back.

2011-04-29T15:56:00.000+10:00

there's a hole in my heart where the fear gets in,
gets in deep. can't sleep. don't want to think no more
no more no more.

and there's a moment of clarity. three steps to the right, and back again.
hold me and never let me go.
too much to think about these days. nothing at the same time. ~~super super cunt cunt.~~
like a choir of cheers that brings me back home say no more, speak no more hear no more
and you won't, you can't even know what I'm on about. how many knives, how many scotts, how many ramona flowers?

emma save me. emma help me. emma it's going to be alright.

no its not. you're fucking screwed.

▲
sanchez

absurdities

2011-04-28T19:58:00.001+10:00

I know this doesn't make sense anymore, like the messages I sent but my mind is starting to make less sense, its scaring me, I can't tell anyone, I can't tell anyone without breaking. Don't break. My head hurts, my heart feels too big for my body. I keep pondering things like paracetamol. how much to take too little too late.

not to say that this is a post in which I'm about to spill my secrets but fuck. Have you ever wondered why they weren't there? Why they aren't there now. What it would be like?

and if so how do you stop yourself? I can't. I'm so completely boring. Truth or Dare doesn't last long. I want to do bad things. Real bad. Real soon.

Keep me updated on your opinions in fifty something days. But I'll tell you right now these feeling better have hella passed by then!

▲

sanchez

till my heart bleeds through.

2011-04-25T00:18:00.000+10:00

sometimes the only thing I can really hear is my heart beating through whatever the hell I am. What ever the hell I am made of.

and it scares me, it scares the living shit out of me, and its something that is so fucking hard to hide, I want to keep secrets but tonight I spilt the biggest one I had ever had. One I hadn't even really admitted to myself. And the things she said, although harmless hit, cut, and pushed me. I can't handle this. Whatever this is. I don't want to be here. I don't want to go back to school. I want to leave here, but in someways I want to stay here forever, because I know that like everything else that has ever been: this too shall pass my mind aches from life. Thats just it. Maybe I didn't say it all, because I think if I spilt everything, (the things I promised to keep) then I would surely shatter, in some pathetic poetic sort of manner the kills you. But whatever I didn't say was acknowledged as I cried in the dark with his arms around me.

I was trying to say that I don't know how to live anymore

but that it doesn't mean I know how to die either.

▲

sanchez

hush baby, speak softly.

2011-04-22T19:15:00.000+10:00

its your birthday today. 12 days after mine.

The maturity levels never seemed so different. But I think I get personality and maturity mixed up all the time. It's a hard thing to understand because in all honesty I don't think maturity is what we see, I mean, at least I don't think its our actions that show us this trait. I think its actually our thoughts, or maybe our existence entirely, the way we find our own niche within whatever the hell we are thrown into as a child. That shapes us obviously that shapes us but I mean in a more existential way in a kind of way thats irreversible. Maybe I'm not talking about the usual kind of maturity, maybe I'm talking of something more fantastical, something a bit more special. A bit like magic. I really like the word, so maybe from now on maturity isn't how sensible your reasonings are.

Maybe it can be how good you are at keeping secrets, or letting go when you need to. Maybe it can be the moment you know you need to go to sleep, and you put down the laptop, book, or phone and just shut your eyes. Maybe its the feeling when you find the perfect hair cut and you finally think "this is for me" or the pile of mX's minus the overheard's you've been saving just so you could return the favour this time round. Maybe its the silence when two friends realise they are in fact two friends, or the paused before "i love you", "i miss you" "i wish you were here". Its the aching feeling when you're waiting for a letter, or a question to arrive to someones door. Or the way your heart kind of shatters in a orchestrated way that leaves you feeling a bit numb to everything.

maybe its hearing someone sing for the first time.

or the fumbliness of your first time.

maybe maturity is realising that no matter how far you are going to go, you're never going to be far enough.

Or it could just be the knowledge that no one is ever really textbook mature.

but like hell you are going to try so fucking hard to be.

Oh Jesus. You love me.

2011-04-19T20:21:00.000+10:00

do you remember when you were little, and maybe your parents would pick you up, and rest your stomach on their feet, and push you into the hair, and for an instant you'd feel like you were flying?
You might have giggled, and they might have learnt to one side, then the other, just to scare you a bit. But at the end of it they'd place you down on the ground again, bed again, and there'd be that silence before you asked for it to happen again, and sometimes they'd say yes, but most of the time they probably had to help a sibling or get ready for something else.

well I remember all those moments kind of like the way I remember all of my own moments.
fleeting and unravelling, and soon to mean nothing.

▲

sanchez

untitled

2011-04-18T22:41:00.000+10:00

and I know this isn't true. I do, its just I feel like, I'm not really meant to be here. That it doesn't really matter if I leave. Not in the kind of end of my life sort of way, but like if I moved away, or stopped being there. It wouldn't make much of a difference, like everyone in the world is replaceable to an extent. I mean, no one is more irreplaceable then the next to someone somewhere.

▲

sanchez

incomprehensible things

2011-04-16T22:48:00.000+10:00

when my room is dark the only thing I can see is a yellow strap gleaming across from my bed attached to my shelving. The strap is actually a slap-braclete that I got it free with the album Contra. I'm only saying this because I'm in bed and I'm not sure what to say. But its not late, and I can't sleep.

My internet is really slow, and I'm feel awful. as per usual some might suggest. I keep thinking about weird things.

▲
sanchez

[recent: BEING HUMAN ISN'T FUCKING ENOUGH]

Third Wheels.

2011-04-15T23:46:00.000+10:00

hung out with Leg-it and Bowler. theres something comforting about being a third wheel, its like me and bowler switched sides. Sometimes that feeling overwhelms me. I re-did the postcards on my wall and thought if you were ever here again would you even notice the difference? I took photos of couples, and ran next to the train again. I guess in someways I forgot again because I started shaking really badly, that kind of feeling like my hearts too big for my body, or too small, I fell over and blamed it on pins and needles, I couldn't breathe I wrote a text message but didn't press send because I didn't want to ruin her holiday. I guess I'm only telling you this because I know I'll censor or edit this before I publish. So don't worry.
you won't ever really know the half of it. Kind of like the 10% thing I was going on about before.

and I would leave, thats what I said, I would walk out that door and not turn back not because I loved her, or hated them but I would not, could not put of with those sorts of situations, sometimes I do want to. Its a vain fantasy. That wont ever happen.

kind of like something else.

▲
sanchez

fucking shoot me.

2011-04-14T21:23:00.000+10:00

I have a very bad problem when it comes to friends and its something that hits very deep down.
its that kind of wincing like "oh okay wow" feeling that I guess Cassie kind of gets when she knows michelle and sid are fucking. its that feeling I'm getting a lot and doesn't even make sense. its a bit like betrayal and trying not to care, and possibly mental illness. Minus the mental illness.

My head doesn't make sense. And I keep acting really weirdly around people I like. I mean my friends. I keep being awful. Or my parents. I'm the biggest awfulest person in the world and I'm because I've realised I can be. Who fucking cares? I might just leave.

"Give 'em love and what does it get ya?

What does it get ya?

One quick look as each of 'em leaves you.

All your life and what does it get ya?

Thanks a lot and out with the garbage."

I don't have friends.

I feel broken and very overdramatic I need Katherine and a cry.

I need some form of fucking stability!

reasons I hate horses.

2011-04-13T15:16:00.000+10:00

1. they smell.
2. they hurt to ride.
3. they make me smell
4. they give me too much time to think
5. they cause me to remember far too much.
6. they scare me.
7. You would never take "wow you look like a horse" as a compliment.
8. some of them are really gross.

~~second times a charm keeping you steadily updated.~~