141123

I've lost 5kg of weight

And despite that it still takes a pretty sharp 0,7 seconds for me to start regretting every piece of food I've ever put in my mouth and start hating my body again. It's miserable. I'm back where I wanted to be, why am I not happy? 

I [am not] fat. I [feel] fat. And there's a painful difference in those two. 

I could lose 5 more kilos and still be just as unhappy as I am now. 

I need to fix that something in my head. I need to learn to love myself. Love my body. 

But how to do it? How? H o w ?

[141103]

trigger warning; abusive themes.

_______________________________________

It was the same dream again. He hated it. He wanted to wake up from it. But he couldn't. It was like the dream was dragging him down. It pinned him there and wrapped itself around him so tightly he couldn't breathe. It was the same nightmare again and again and again. And it never eased. It only got worse.

The courtroom was large. It reminded something European from a century or two ago. The large windows were covered with heavy, draped curtains that left the room dim. The light scattered around the room came from the flickering lights of candle flames. The light was alive. It was pure and natural and nevertheless it left the room cold. He shivered slightly, wanting to wrap his arms around himself to keep warm. The coldness chilled down to your very bones. And the coldness stayed. It stayed and inhabitet itself into his body, made his chest freeze to the point it hurt. His arms helplessly tied to the thick wooden armrests, the metal chains weighting against his skin cold and heavy. He sat there, unable to escape, unable to move, facing the sea of the faceless people in the jury. Why were they all smiling?

Guilty, guilty, guilty. 

He could hear the whispers in the crowd. 

Guilty. Definitely guilty. Look at his clothes. 

He glanced down. The pale blue shirt he was wearing was stained in splatters of dark red. His eyes widened. He wanted to explain. This wasn't him. It wasn't him. 

A boy of that age. He must be insane. 

No. The chains rattled as he tried to struggle in them. They were wrong. They had the wrong idea. It wasn't like that. 

Poor mother... such a monster for a child! 

His shouts were muffled against the gag in his mouth. There were hollow laughters filling the room.

Guilty, definitely guilty. 

And they all looked at him and laughed. These faceless monsters with their hollow voices. He was cold and alone and no one would help him. 

Guilty. Monster. Poor mother.. He deserves it all.

He could see his mother. Comforted by the sea of te faceless creatures. And she cried and looked so miserable, oh so miserable. But when she had the chance and their eyes met, there was that devilish smile on her lips. And he wanted them to notice it. He wanted them to understand. But they wouldn't. He would be the guilty as charged. That's how it went.

The boy woke up in cold sweat, breathing stuck in his throat. The red numbers of the alarm clock ticked at 2:58. He curled up on his mattress, trying to calm down his breathing again. Brushing off the hair from his face his fingers touched the bruise colouring his cheekbone and a quiet whimper filled the silence of the night. He hugged the blanket tighter against his chest, trying to keep the tears from flowing down onto his cheeks. He deserved it all. He was a monster after all.

[141028]

Before I used to love how quiet it was at night. You had time just for yourself. There was no one else awake and you could feel like you were the king of the world. You were on top of everything and nothing could possibly beat you. The night gave you wings.

I still love the night, don't get me wrong.
However nowadays I hate it too.

I hate the silence of everyone else sleeping because it reminds me that I should be sleeping too. That I should be able to sleep too. And here I am tossing and turning in bed. All because I wanted to be foolishly brave and not take the medication tonight. I wanted to prove myself that I can still sleep.
Unfortunately I can't. And that's sad.
I fall for my own lie time after time.

141014

I’m afraid it’s getting worse again. I’m not sure if it’s about the autumn that has finally come. I wonder at what point did the leaves turn yellow and fall onto the ground? The ground’s not black, the streets are not black. They are yellow, orange, red.. they’re like on fire. But the nights are not. The red sunsets have turned into gray and blue and the darkness comes earlier than before. The autumn is dark and cold. I’m afraid it’s creeping inside me as well.

I feel tired again. I sleep 8-9 hours a night and nevertheless when the morning comes I hardly get my eyes open. And let’s not even talk about lectures. Once I finally get back home I’m so tired I could go back to sleep again. This starts reminding me of last autumn. I could sleep 13-16 hours a day. I don’t know what to do anymore, really.. I don’t sleep and I feel tired. I do sleep and I feel tired nevertheless.

As if this wasn’t already exhausting enough, there’s the happy little sound nagging in the back of my head. Most of all I feel incompetent and stupid. Ugly and fat come right after the first two. I know it’s just my head messing around but nevertheless it gets tiring. Why can’t I ever be good enough? Why can’t I be smart and pretty? Or at least smart? Or pretty? I feel like I’m failing as a human for being neither. This all dwells inside of me to the point where I hardly enjoy things that I am supposed to enjoy. That’s tiring as well.

All I want to do is sleep.

I wish I didn’t have to wake up for lecture tomorrow but instead I could just sleep through the whole day. That would be perfect. Unfortunately it’s also impossible.

I don’t know what to do. I am so lost right now.

140928

Today at work I thought how much I just wish it was over so I'd get back home. The same happens during the week at lectures. I'm waiting for the evening and the moment I can go back home. Why? In the end, there's nothing waiting for me at home. I get home and roll around in boredom and misery. 

I think the autumn's getting on me again. 

I feel like at the moment I'm not even living. I'm waiting for evenings in hope for the days to pass. It's not living. It's just trying to struggle through the days and weeks in hope that something will eventually come. 

It's like I'm waiting and I don't even know what for. 

That's silly isn't it?

[ runaway ]

Right now I feel like I'm very lost.
The only thing I know is where I am now, everything else seems unclear.
Who am I? What am I? What is this? Why do I do it? What is this all for? When will I..?
And the list goes on and on.

I don't know what I am, who I am or who I want to be.
This frustrates me a lot.
I am so lost.


_________________________________________
trigger warning - blood

There was that very distinct scent of blood lingering in the air. It hand strong over the building and got even stronger once you stepped in. It was so thick in the air that you felt like you could almost touch it, feel the taste on your tongue if you just closed your eyes. It made you fear for the worst, there was an atmosphere of murder and yet the scent of death was missing. There was only the smell of blood, so thick and strong it was almost intoxicating.

He followed the steps upstairs and by each one, the scent seemed to grow stronger. By the time he was standing on top of the staircase, he could almost imagine the pools of blood in the floor. Except that they weren’t there. It was almost frustrating. Like the scent was teasing him, luring him deeper into the strange mansion coated with dark wood. His patience was wearing thin, the scent making him feel like he could loose his mind. That little bitch.. He kept playing these games and he swore to god (or the devil for that matter) that someday they’d end up being the death of him. However now his eyes slowly scanned the doors and finally picked the one at the end of the corridor.

That one. There was no doubt of it.

As he got closer, the scent of blood seemed to get a new hint to it. Now it was mixing together with another scent. This one was much sweeter, almost too sweet and yet something that thrilled your senses with its vivid forest-like freshness. And as his hand pressed down the handle of the door, he wasn’t sure what to expect anymore.

The figure in the bathtub looked like an ancient goddess even in the midst of the grotesque scene scattered around him. His pale skin seemed even more ivory as it contrasted against the blood filling the white tub. His slender figure had that certain grace as he tilted his head back and ran his hand through the black hair that flowed down his back.

“Care to join me for a bath?”

It was a sweet purr in the air thickened with the scent of blood that coloured the demon’s lips red as they curled up into a smile.

[ sickness ]

Being sick sucks.
What sucks even more is being sick and an adult at the same time.

It's been somewhere around 5 years since I was sick. It's hard to even start trying to explain how anxious being sick makes me. There is just something in it that makes me absolutely freeze in fear and during these... 4 days that I've been sick, I've cried more times than I dare to admit. Being sick frightens me. I can admit it, plainly and bluntly. I hate the feeling of lying in my bed and having my body ache a bit here and there. I hate the feeling the medicines cause in my head after I take them. I hate how restless my sleep gets and how vivid and colourful my dreams are. They are too colourful and full of shapes and places that make me want to run. I don't even know why I am running. But it's because of those shapes. The shapes are scary. I don't know exactly why but I know that they are. This feeling doesn't leave me even after I wake up.

It may all sound silly to you. It probably really does. But it still scares me.

What do I mean then by being an adult and being sick? And why does that suck even more?
It sucks because when you lie in your bed by yourself, all alone, feeling sick, it makes you downright miserable. Sweating in the dizzy hallucinations that the medicines cause feels at least three million times worse when you're alone.
To be honest, I wish I was at my parent's place right now.
I wish I was somewhere where someone could fondle my hair when I start crying and tell me that there's no reason to cry because this will pass. Because at the moment I don't feel like it will. I feel alone and isolated from the rest of the world. I feel useless and anxious and abandoned. I am trapped in my own bed, in my own head and there's no way out. It's a sad place to be in.

It feels really lonely.

140725

I feel like I can't write anymore. I want to but I can't. I try and I try and I try.

But it doesn't come out right. I stumble in my words and they don't seem to fit in their place. The sentences seem awkward and I the order of words seems like a mystery to me. They won't work with me, no matter how hard I try. The frustration inside of me just grows. I want to write so badly. But there's nothing that would feel right. I come up with a sentence. Another. Write a ten more and yet they don't seem connected. 

In the end I just close the document, sigh quietly and hope that tomorrow it would be better.

It never is.

____________________________________

”You aren’t anything. Did you hear me? You’re nothing! Nothing!”

The memory echoed through his mind, hurt deep inside in places you’d think that pain was impossibility in. But it hurt. The pain radiated through his mind, into his veins and to his body. It consumed him alive, ate away everything else until there was nothing but hurt left. Chest was the worst. His hands pressed against it, fingers curled into the fabric of the shirt as if trying to pull away the pressuring feeling that made it hard to breathe. Where his heart was supposed to be was a black hole, all lost into its darkness.

It felt like his body was slowly crumbling into pieces. Falling apart. 

He didn’t have the power to hold it together anymore. 

His body felt heavy. It was almost like he was falling. Downwards, downwards, always just downwards. Pain was cast aside, slowly the numbness filled every cell of his body and nothing mattered anymore. All was dark, he couldn’t see and he just kept falling.

His world had burnt to ashes so long ago, maybe it was time for him to accompany it. 

Maybe this was planned all along.

140723

It's almost funny. 

You'd think little things don't matter. But they do. They actually matter an awful lot. And it makes me a bit sad to know just how little it would take to make that effort. 

It feels sad to be drowning when you're surrounded by people.

Reaching your hand out. Reaching, reaching. But it's too far away. 

Do you need to scream to be saved?

But what if there's no voice left to shout with?

Will they just let you drown?

馬鹿ね

うそつき…

馬鹿ね馬鹿ね馬鹿ね
馬鹿なオトコはいらないわ

泣いて泣いて泣いて
泣いた顔など見せないわ

Tonight I feel stupid on so many different levels I can't even put it into words.

I wonder if it's all inside my head and if so, how do you escape from that?

Closing his eyes he let the water flow on him, almost hoping that it would wash away these thoughts from his head. But they stayed like a cancer, circled in his head and ran in his veins. They were imprinted on his skin like tattoos, the memories covering his whole body. Without him even realizing it, his fingertips ran along those certain spots that had once been covered in such perfectly aligned cuts. Now even these marks were slowly fading away.

Everything else stayed. 

 

xo.

140529

First night in the new apartment. 

There's still a lot to do. 

But already, this place feels like home. 

I am happy. 

140516

Today I am so utterly happy that words possibly can't express it.
There is this bubbly happy feeling inside of me and I just feel like bursting.
I can't even describe this feeling.. it's just.. such utter happiness.
And it will be even more happiness when I can be sure that I'm getting the tickets.
I need them. I really need them.

xo.

140513

Tonight I feel a bit empty again. 

I think I'm trying to fill in that hole by writing something that doesn't even really have a meaning. 

We visited our summer cottage during the weekend. The evening was beautiful, it looked like someone had painted the sky. It felt unreal. That somethig like that simply couldn't exist. With the lake all calm it mirrored the sky's colours so beautifully. It was like a fairytale. 

I also went swimming. The lake was cold and I felt so chilly for a long time. Even dived. It really was cold. 

But I did feel some sort of accomplishment after doing it. It was a good, long-lost feeling. 

Today started a new module at uni. I'm already tired but I will struggle through this too, as always. 

Next weekend it's the convention. I am a bit nervous, I can admit. Going by myself doesn't feel like such a good idea anymore.. But well, I am hoping for the best~ 

xo. 

140509

I decided to start blogging again because... because I can?
I don't even know really.
I wanted something to waste my time with, something to keep me distracted. So often I feel the urge to write something so I thought why not to have a blog again? I'm not forcing anyone to read it but at least I then have a place to write on. That probably didn't make much sense but does it really need to?
I don't know.

I will be posting here... a lot of random stuff, most probably. Pictures, thoughts, texts. Everything that I generally speaking feel like worth(?) sharing. I don't know this is maybe something between a scrapbook and a diary? We'll see. Maybe I know better after a couple of entries.

I suppose it's usual for people to do some sort of an introduction always in the first post?
Well, in case you have gotten lost and are reading this text; hello, hi, good day or evening, whatever suits you. For me it's evening when I'm writing this.
I'm a 20-year-old business student from Finland, struggling through the last courses of her first year in university. In the great world of internets I usually go by the name suyenin with a possible addition of the number 712 which simply comes from the day I was born, 7th of December. Things I like include but are not limited to Japan and things you might list under it. I am very fond of streetstyles - gyaru is fabulous, lolitas are such cuties and visual kei just rocks my world, if you know what I'm talking about we should become friends I mean it - and would like to work my fashion better. When I have time (meaning every evening, don't be fooled) I sit in front of my computer, write and roleplay. And sometimes cry. I am a very emotional person so please be gentle with me.

As you can see, my text usually flows pretty much just as freely as my thoughts.
Sometimes (mostly?) I don't make any sense.

Right now I want ice cream and don't think I have anything more to say.
Nice to meet you, let's be friends?

xo