I read a Vice article where someone complained about wearing heels giving them huge, swollen and blistered feet. And I thought to myself “not me“. That day I wore some of my moccasins without a pair of socks for a nightwalk and I got lots of blisters. Jokes on you, I’m into cuts and blisters and they make your feet tough as fuck. I imagine one day I will line up the staff at Vice and beat them all up. My rule – unless my opposition is twice my body weight – is to let them hit me first. First of all it pisses me off – second of all it becomes self defence. He who strikes first does not always win. Actually I’ve ALWAYS said this – LOSE FIRST. Have you ever actually thought you were going to die? When you think you’re about to die you release this very particular kind of energy – I remember hearing about it in a class about “To Kill a Mocking Bird”. I think. Or maybe Of Mice and Men. One of those. A character leaps across a pretty wide gap to save his life. You can do stuff, when you think you’re about to die – that you can’t normally do. I think once your brain has released that chemical – is it DMT? – into your body enough times (I have thought I was going to die SO MANY TIMES it probably altered my DNA or something, plus I lived in a constant state of PTSD growing up in an abusive household with an autistic drug addict that triggered my abandonment issues and a sister who could look me in the eye and lie to me and a mother who only ever hugged me after a fight she would force me to let her win) it probably alters your DNA
(did I mention my mother tried to feed me dog food before I left her house? less than a few months ago?)
(it’s great I have a sense of humour)
(No but really if our playing fields were level I would probably all but kill you if you provoked me to and I didn’t feel like you’d nark to the police)
another thing i do – is tell people how to win. i tell them all my weaknesses. i don’t like to hit people if i know it’d hurt them and i don’t like the police very much. i’d tell you my strengths but i think i only ever got one or two compliments in my life until i was about… well ’til i started using myspace actually. haha.
I’ll tell you how i got my big arms. When I was three years old, I stormed into the kitchen one time and demanded cake. My mother had a guy called Tom over. He was there to help my older brother who was a problem child before people understood autism can affect good looking people. Tom told my mother that when I express myself it is right to all but slam me in a corner – its the bit where two walls meet – basically i’d shove my face in a corner and put my arms in the air. Whats funny is that I learned later in life that if people look at you when your back is turned, you get a rectal pain. you can feel it. I didn’t actually associate that pain with being observed because I had that disability I rant and rave about where I only shit once or twice a month sometimes. Since I was that age.
No, I don’t lift. But I can carry heavy things 😉 😉 😉
Have you ever had a song stuck in your head your entire life and then actually heard it? That’s how I feel about the Cupcakke song I posted two entries ago.
Do not take that personally anyone. I was thinking about someone in Denmark and how deeply they had fucked me over – and the song showed up on my YouTube feed. I had been dreaming of meeting this person that I fell in love with the second I saw him, in a shitty webcam photo – back when he was pretty dorky looking – for years of my life and I met him when I had accepted that nothing in my life would ever work out again, and then he literally-not-literally (I hope but I don’t know what they got upto when they roofied me) shat on me. With his weird friends.
I’m actually not really a penis person. I don’t want to see boys frolicking in the nude. I like boys in clothes. I like women – not many – probably not any you’d find attractive – to be partially undressed but mostly I like closing my eyes. But I am pettily inclined when I have rages and a childish song taking a universal lowblow to every guy that I probably actually wanted to love for years of my life that negged me and then picked someone over me that was an entirely insulting specimen was ACTUALLY WHAT I NEEDED FOR THE LOLS. I have slept with someone whose penis was 10 inches and I got whatsit. That thing you get that makes you swell up and struggle to NOT pee. He had a temper tantrum about the petrol money it cost him to take me to the hospital. Nice memories. Men are great.
Btw the Dave Pelzer books are nonsense – but I think if I wrote a book about my life it’d be worse.