Sick of it.

Hello, this is me, at four thirteen am.

I woke up at three thirty. 

Yes. 

Three fucking thirty. 

And I fell asleep at fucking eleven. 

Usually I fall asleep at nine thirty or ten or ten thirty, and then wake up at four thirty. 

Usually granting me 6-7 hours of sleep. 

Now I got fucking four and a half hours of sleep. 

I feel like I'm losing my mind. 

Unbelievable, isn't it?

I was better without fluoxetine. 

It just makes me feel like crap and I'm contemplating suicide endlessly. 

What else could I possibly think about last night but it?

I blogged when it happened. 

I'm hungry as fuck. 

And I want to sleep normally. 

Or at least be in that hypomanic stage where I'm quite happy with waking up at such an early hour. 

Oh fuck, I highly doubt that I'd go to school. 

I'm fucking falling apart. 

Fuck.

Like it's not enough that I missed plenty of school days, now I'm going to miss the 60's and 80's runnings!

That's fucking awful. 

I do not joke. 

As much as I hate the practices, it's unbearable. 

Ever since I got into that institution my ability to handle and go through the sports class schedule was stripped of my body. 

I'm unable to function with this hell. 

I don't sleep, I don't eat, I feel empty, and I feel suicidal, but I may also feel occasionally some emotion, something that's alive, but I mostly lie within numbness, I'm weak, my focus levels are equal to an ADD off his meds, and concentration is nothing but a bitter joke, I cry, I feel like my head is about to just explode every once in a while, I want to feel well, but I don't deserve to feel well. 

It's four forty four. 

I just can't believe it. 

I want this torment to end. 

Six am. 

At last. 

Soon the rest of the house will wake. 

And even though that I'd rather to stay at home today [almost like every other fucking day, but now I got a really good reason] I fear the consequences of not arriving today to school. 

I'm not functioning. 

That's a pretty good reason for Shalvata to reconsider taking me again. 

I'd rather pour alcohol with lemon juice and salt into my open wounds and perform a kidney removal by myself. 

I'm tired. 

Very tired. 

But I can't fall asleep. 

I fucking hate it. 

Okay, I'm awake for over twelve hours, it's three forty seven and I'd like to share my day with you.

My parents suggested that I'd try sleeping a little and then go to school.
Thing is, that I couldn't.
I stayed at home.
My mother tried to cheer me up, and some eye in the sky [did I mention that I might go to the Alan Parsons Project concert?]  named "god" or more specifically, "Jehova" [even though that she didn't mention the name, it's a blasphemy], sadly, I can't fathom faith.

Oh, I love Hungarian Dance No. 5!
I'm reading wikihow articles, while trying to find some inspiring clothing pieces and to be specific, pantihose and such.
I just started loving these beautiful garments,
Since my purchase of the wine red one, I basically find myself very interested in wearing it more often.
Even more with having bonier legs.


Okay, the twitches that I had have got significantly worse,
I got nothing to do against them.

Don't forget to learn the band members' names too! This is important if you ever strike up a conversation with another Goth. Nothing is worse than ending up tongue-tied when talking to a Goth. That gets you the Poser for life reward (CONGRATULATIONS!).

And this is why I love the bullshit from Wikihow!
Am I the only one who just don't give a fuck really about the names.
Dude, as long as the band isn't named The Johns and each member's name is John, I don't give a damn.


I spoke to some cutters on sitps and fuck, why the corrupted must have such warm hearts.
Gladly, every rule has an exception.
Because I'm a stupid fucktard that the Yarkon's water is running through it's bloodstream.
Great, now I have the filth of the water that have killed an Australian runners team.

Okay, stips triggered that thought, but [!] am I the only one that finds the coming sentence very romantic? "I think about you when I masturbate."
If anybody may ever find that "revolting" and that my mind is "disgustingly sexual" and that it's not romantic or lovely, I feel like they shouldn't be talking to me.
If that's over sexual, then is my own idea about a new female circumcision must be offensive as fuck.
I thought about cutting the inner labia, as they serve no fucking use but another skin cover for a sensitive part, just like the foreskin.

Well, fuckers, today was only one blue pill.
And for another day I may be possesed by Agent Smith and enjoy laying within to safe, warm, and blinding aquarium of the matrix.