How being a vampire is a condition

For fucks sake! How long am going to deny this? Me of all people, have a side I'm constantly denying. Why? Because it's unrealisctic, silly, and shouldn't even be remotely possible! Not even in my world! I can't believe all this shit is constantly troubling me! Cause you know what? I'm sick and tired of it. There's always something more piling up in this hell, just constantly growing larger and more insuffareable every breaking minute.

I've cried because of this. Meny times too, unfortunatly. (Cause I hate to cry and it's just a waste of energy I don't generally have.) Cause just the mere thought of it makes me sick. It's not really a medical condition, it's not even on anybody's map - and how it got on to my map is still a mystery. And if this really is my case, I can asure you I will hate myself even more - how the fuck now that's possible - And I'm quite tired of always ending up hating myself more and more.

But I guess a part of me kind of wanted this as well. So be damn careful what you wish for, you might fucking unbelievable or not get it!!! Or maybe I was born with this curse, but it's rather unlikely. I can think of several incidents from my mid-teens that could explain this...

But I've been ranting about this issue before. Just about a year ago, in the beginning of 2010 I searched the internet for clues, information and forums for other people like me (on this topic, that is) and I found a strange page created by a complete moron and followed by more morons. I guess I can put up a link at the bottom in this post if you wanna find out for youselves. But I warn you, those people are more narrow-minded than ordodox christians... Anyways, not long after my first realisation I got other things to focus on, and I put it aside. So much that I started to believe it might not really have been the case after all. Cause there were so many traits I was missing out on, I though that I had just put my head in the clouds as usual instead of concentrating on facts. But I fell in to it once more, bounced back again och so on. I guess what really made me back away from it over and over was just because I kept on denying it deep down, scared as shit what it would actually mean to... indulge for this radical lifestyle.

So now I'm there again. And it's the same issue that has been bugging me all along: blood. Though I love the taste of it it's not really the kind of spice I want the rest of my life to be spiked with. It's so damn complicated to get a hold on, just to begin with. And I know it for real that I actually do need it now. Cause it was over six months ago since I last had some, and I've been constantly tired, just feeling sicker and sicker without any doctors being able to diagnose it. I've felt the urge for more blood several times the last six months, but haven't given in for it. Until tonight.





The result..? I haven't had so much energy or felt more alive for so long!


I have to stop denying shit like this in the future, poke me if I do, okay? The guys at the stupid website talked about what could be causing this "condition" is be a retrovirus of some sort. I don't even know whether to tell if that is dump-shit-mumbo-jumbo like most of the crap they talked about, or if it could really be worth looking into. The real problem I'm facing is that I can't be living on my own blood in the long run, cause that will make me sick. But not to worry, I will actually have to eat normal human food as well, just need som extra nutrition. So I'm gonna have to go picking up more or less willing donors in the near, and further future...

Well, I know you waited for it, so here's the pun: being a vampire sucks!





Link to the site (it does have some really good information as well, at least it's the only somewhat serious site I've found): http://vampirewebsite.net/

No way out

Everything falls apart. It's just blood and pain everywhere. The wound in my soul never heals. What more can I reveal? I know now there's no help out there, they're just making it worse. I beg and plead for them to help me, I turn myself inside out, but all I get is useless pills, useless conversations and limitations, contraptions...

But it's tearing me apart... I haven't taken any medicines for about three days now, it has left me with an excruciating migraine and nausea. I can barely eat. As soon as I fall asleep, after hours of trying - I wake up in panic after a nightmare. Demons hunting me, the darkness and the pain are a part of me. I know that now. There's no way out.

How many wounds can I create at just one night? What a mess I've got myself into. But what if I can't take it no more? What if I'll do anything, anything for this to stop? What if life is just not worth living this way? I'm just waiting for an excuse, just waiting for an excuse...

How much poison have I consumed recently? I don't know. If I can't kill myself directly, I might as well do it indirectly. Just need some euthanasia... it can't possibly be called murder, I'm just barely alive anyways. I know mental illness will kill me, it's just a matter of time. There's nothing anyone can do, nothing at all.

What lies within

I can't find my inspiration

creations lost in agony

tortured every waken night

but what really lies within?

Carved up arms

my precious addictions

in love with the darkness

but what really lies within?

Rape myself in my sleep

distorted feelings

undeniable chaos

but what really lies within?

An overdose too much

waking up from nightmares every night

unexplanable cronical pain

but what really lies within?

Driven by impulsive hatred

an endless war in my mind

I can't fight my demons

but what really lies within?

what really lies within..?

Heartache

I recognize my hearts existence once more. I try to tear it out, so want to tear it out. I almost thought there for a second it had healed/died, but so stupid of me. Hearts cannot heal, not if they're torn apart over and over before even getting the chance to redeem. The only way to stop feeling is to stop living. I should know that by now, I tell myself over and over. So much I'm supposed to know, but somehow always seem to forget.

I stared into nothingness for about two hours earlier today. My heart racing, breathing in steps fast and intense. Yet it wasn't really a panic attack, more like some sort of super intense anxiety.

I'm just ranting, ain't I? Can't find the words that I'm looking for, can't find the meaning in anything. Well, whatever. Guess that will have to do for tonight. Sleep tight.

Still holding on... I think

I don't have anything to live for, but neither anything to die for. This is a problem!!!

Staring into the night, trying looking for stars in the sky, but the fog lies thick in the air. Another deep breath of cigarette smoke, hold it in for as long as possible before I slowly let it out. I write my life with big capitals, but still feel as if I missed all the important things out. How many times is it possible to fail at something so simple and trivial, until I break apart for the last time? Misery holds me tight, telling me I'll always break more, fail more, die inside once more and feel more pain as long as I'm alive. As long as I'm alive. And that's the only end of anything, and everything. The way to stop feeling, needing, wishing, losing, loving, thinking and judging. Those parts of life of which I have no control. What so ever.

"when everything's upside down

and I'm trying to fill the spaces

all those memories, of lost

feelings, moments and faces

can't breathe cause of all

the pain thriving deep inside

and I can't see, all I lose

is what I push aside

when love is killing me

and sex equals only pain

how easy is it to not focus

on the thoughts eating my brain

flashbacks of old memories

making them real again and again

living on borrowed time

guess I'm practically in sane

so caught up on believing

that I'm damaged from within

and how much I'm failing, like

the carved in words in my skin

try not to scream, but wonder

what is left to believe

if everything one can imagine is real

and silence is the answer I receive"

I fantasized the other day, about the day I die no one will know the cause of death, yet everyone would agree on that it was a miracle I stayed alive for that long. If the soul dies, would the body just give cause it can't live without the soul? Is that the explanation for all unexplainable deaths? It doesn't sound unreal to me, you know. The power of thoughts and feelings is strong, you can die of a broken heart. So maybe that is true, somehow.

But right now (and we all know that I only live in the moment) I feel like I wanna see just how corrupted I can get. I guess I make it a competition to see if my lungs or my liver dies first. I guess the liver, it's so easy to kill. A bit too easy, even. But with my smoking habit I'd give my lungs about ten-fifteen years if I continue this way.

I have a new celebrity crush as well, I just can't get him off my mind. So gorgeous my eyes almost bleeding. Just browsing through internet I even found out someone else wrote a book about their obsession about my "crush"...

Other than drooling over images, my days are spent killing bed bugs and watching movies. They're fucking everywhere! I woke up around noon all full of bites all over my body, and it's itching like hell. And I've probably killed at least ten that I found crawling around on me or nearby me just yesterday. Yesterday I went shopping twice, the first round was just around the corner to get groceries, the other further away to buy sheets and bedlinen preferably bug free and clean. But it bugs me (no pun intended) that I get so damn tired just by doing more or less nothing at all.

I guess nights are kinda between dates for me. Cause now it seems like it's neither Saturday or Sunday. I think about Saturday as yesterday and Sunday as tomorrow. Don't know why really. But these fucking neighbors gotta have a worse diurnal rhythm that I do, cause they're up chatting loud, cooking and playing loud music half past three in the morning...

I make the right rules but I'm lost within...

Supplements for chaos

This notepad is the closest to a writing program I can get right now. Need to fix a few things on this computer, but since my family's internet connections still sucks, and my own mobile internet really doesn't hold for that much either, so I can't download any programs to install. For now I'm just living on the dream that my hard drive isn't completely amaged beyond repair which will in that case, bring all my heavy work I've been writing on since December, to the grave with it. Got no back ups of course... I don't think I can deal with that right now. Just keep on pretending it will aaaall just be aaalriiight...

I'm so unstable, I can feel the ground shattering underneath me.

***

I'm living the dream,

baby, just living the dream

it's just what it seems

you know what it means

Sex, drugs and rock n' roll

I'm a prince and I'm a troll

mean words holds nothing for me

legends lives forever, lost n' free

Home is where the heart is

I'll do anything, for your kiss

but won't stay the night

cause vampires shoves the light

An endless hunger, aching need

an empty space I try to feed

an intensity like fire that lingers away

my demons are here to stay

With passion comes pain

creativity is in my vein

I've done my time

I might as well do the crime

(lyrics are mine)

***

I don't know why I suddenly started to write in English. I guess I just ran out of Swedish words. But I might go back to Swedish anytime, I don't know.

There's so much fire inside me, I can't control it. I don't wanna control it, it stimulates me. But it also mutilates me "Quod me nutrit me destruit". I feel both reborn and drawn away from life at the same time, guess I'm just stuck somewhere inbetween. I can just barely sence a strength inside of me, it wants grow and live, but something ties it down. Something so strong and dark, I can't even picture it. But if I want to live everyday to the fullest, what's stopping me? I know what's stopping me: the mental health "care" in this country, all stupid and ignorant rules and laws, the school/job system, and so much more. I just feel so impartient, and I don't have money or power enough to live the life I wanna live. I'm not unintelligent, I just have a hard time with schools, and the system that controls me. I'm not a misanthrope, I just happen to hate the human society. And I'm not against politics, I just happen to be a chaotic, communistic fucking anarchist. And I'm just so tired of it all. It doesn't matter what I do or say, it never has.

I constantly jump between polar extremes. One second I'm the king of the world, I literally see myself as some sort of anti-hero, and believe my values and strong opinions could open up the strict confided society a liiittle tiny bit. The next second I'm Mr. Nobody no one ever understands or listens to, cause no one is trustable and everyone will die sooner or later. And so will I, hopefully sooner so I don't have to mess around in this tragic mess anymore. (Soo borderline...)

It's a tragic mess indeed. But I just can't do a shit about it. I'm tired of spitting blood, being beaten down again, spit more blood just to get beaten down once more. I wonder how therapy will be this fall though. I must say I'm kinda excited about it, but of course I'm not expecting it to be good, in fact I don't expect anything. I demand it to be good. Fuck it, hopes are for pussies, and I won't give it more chances after this. You've got one shot, kill me or thrill me!

"There's a gray place

between black and white

but everyone does have the right

to choose the path that he takes" - Iron Maiden (some song).

Living in the ruins of fantasy world

They're destroying my thoughts. Creating unessecary feelings. Dreams from my past are haunting me. The truth of today leaves an empty space. Trying to find the gap to see through, only to find there's nothing there to create a gap. The darkness scares me sometimes. Reminds me of the truth: it's nothing there. The night resembles the empty space inside of me. I try not to tremble, I try not to cry. Too often I misjudge. A strange sound, a gasp in the air, echo of dogs howling in the distance.

The kitchen once so cosy and bright, now left empty with a pressuring silence. I don't feel safe in here, I feel anything but safe. But what am I afraid of? What is the emptiness trying to tell me? Is it the people who lives here not meeting my needs, or is it me not meeting theirs? Holding on to my heart, the only home I know. Want to get rid of this feeling, but still I wanna identify it. Desperate for a diagnose, am I willing to risk my life for it? What life do I have to risk?

My eyes cannot trust what they see, my ears cannot trust what they hear, my body cannot trust what it feels. Is it all just in my mind, am I just making all this up? Once more I feel the need to escape.

New words, new combinations of words that I try to find meaning in. Try to analyze the moment and understand why I'm here. How did I get here? Why did I get here?

Why am I so obsessed with the thoughts in my mind, the feelings in my heart, the now and the past? Why do I cling on to broken images, why can't I figure out what's wrong? I'm just spinning in circles. Feels like I'm stuck in a wheel, just running faster the more tired I get. I live in a fantasy world, but the dream broke years ago. I'm living in the ruins of fantasy world.

I can't finnish what I started cause I can't remember why I started it. The currents are getting bigger, the water is getting colder, the night is getting darker. The feeling I get is similar to drowning. How much darker can it get? Where am I supposed to go?

The questions are driving me nuts, I can't get rid of them. No matter how hard I try.

The feeling resembles a mixture of what you feel when losing someone or something you love, the feeling you get when you realize you've tried everything a houndred times but you can't fix it, of being misunderstood, abandoned and of just not understanding a shit. How did I get so messed up?

A sour taste in my mouth. Is it the cigarette or my soul rottening? It could be both. I can't remember either taking a shower or brushing my teeth since I got here. I can't even remember what date I got here.

I've lost the count of years of misery, given up the hope of ever getting better. Still willing to try anything, it's not like I've got anything to lose. But it feels like I'm just wasting my breath.

Counting time in minutes, scars and cigarettes. They say every moment is a chance to turn everything around. I wonder how that's possible. Must be somthing about my attitude, even though that's the only thing that has changed.

I can take risks. I do it all the time. But I'm losing far more than I'm gaining, and I don't really have that much left to gamble with.

Catch 22

Jag kan inte sova. Jag Kan inte sova för att jag tänker för mycket och känner för mycket konstant. All energi går åt till att hata mig själv, hata världen, hata den kropp jag bor i, hata omvärlden, hata människors beteenden och hata att jag hatar så mycket. Jag kan inte avfokusera. Allt blir ett virrvarr av negativa tankar, idiotiskt ältande och analyserande av sådant jag redan vet. Jag försöker komma på nya sätt att lura världen, samhället, mig själv och naturlagarna. Vill finna svar som ingen någonsin funnit än.

Faktum är att jag vet inte vad jag vill. Anna frågar mig hela tiden när jag möter ett dilemma, vad fan vill jag, egentligen? Men jag vet inte. Om jag visste det skulle allt va så mycket enklare. Vill jag bli frisk? Vill jag kämpa för det? Vill jag kunna le åt bagateller, klara av att leva i detta samhälle? Vill jag kunna bo och leva, tjäna egna pengar, sysselsätta mig, skaffa familj, resa, och så vidare? Jag vet inte. Men vill jag dö, vill jag bara slippa allt och fullkomligt försvinna? Vill jag bara ge upp och skita i allt? Jag vet inte.

Jag är lika rädd för konsekvenserna av att dö, som jag är för konsekvenserna av att fortsätta leva.

Vad är lycka för mig? Jag har funderat över den frågan ett tag nu, det fascinerar mig att jag fortfarande inte kommit fram till något svar. Jag har inga åsikter, bara känslor, förvirrande analyserande tankar, fler frågor och en massa knäppa teorier. Men inga svar.

Men vill jag ens sova? Jag drömmer bara mardrömmar, lite som en blandning mellan en Tim Burton-film och Fear and loathing in Las Vegas. Jag har alla sömnproblem man kan ha på en och samma gång. Det är skitsvårt att somna, jag sover lätt och oroligt, vaknar flera gånger under natten, ofta i panik/extrem förvirring och undrar vart jag är, jag sover för mycket eller för lite, kan inte hålla en dygnsrytm och har extrema drömmar.

Men hur wacko mina drömmar än är så vet jag precis vad de "betyder". Det är inte svårt att tyda sina drömmar, de visar alla underliggande och djupa känslor vi inte kan hantera, de visar scenarion vi behöver se men som förmodligen aldrig kommer hända. De finns där för att vi ska lättare kunna förstå vad vi döljer för oss själva utan att veta om det. Det är helt enkelt delar av det undermedvetna som kommer upp till ytan i en ganska rörig version.

Idag var en mindre lyckad dag. Bör påpeka att i mitt fall behövs det ingen särskild händelse för att sabba hela dagar. Jag har helt enkelt bara känt mig mer nere, och fler tidigare dolda känslor har kommit upp till ytan. Jag missade ta min Efexor igår, så hade en jobbig migrän som påminde mig om att ta den idag. Efter att jag tog den blev migränen värre, och jag tog två Alvedon. Nu svettas jag som fan, känner mig lätt yr och nästan lite full (fast jag inte druckit på typ tre dagar...) Inte haft energi till någonting, inte ens duscha eller lägga mina brallor med kattspya på i tvätten. Har bara knarkat tv-serier och ritat lite på min serie.

Datorn är sitt gamla jag igen också förresten. Men farsan har inte lyckats rädda min gamla hårddisk än, och ALLT är på den... yeah, love my life. Måste dessutom installera om alla program på datorn efter ominstalleringen av datorn gjordes. Har fixat google chrome och spotify bara än så länge.

Helt galet, i vanlig ordning

Jag orkar verkligen ingenting. Jag vill bara försvinna, fattar du det? Som om det aldrig var nog med djävulskap, som om det inte räckte med att hata sönder sig själv, världen och mänskligheten. Som om det inte var nog att allt jag försöker med går åt helvete, så ska även det jag inte försöker med, tyfligen också gå åt helvete. Och jag är så leds på det. På datorn som får tokryck och bara totalkraschar när jag behöver den som mest. Och mobilen som bestämmer sig för att lacka ur och gå sönder så man inte kan lyssna på musik i hörlurarna på den. Och så flygbussen som drog tre minuter för tidigt så jag fick vänta på nästa buss vilket resulterade i att jag missade flyget. Jag hatar teknik. Det bara går sönder, kraschar, hänger sig eller är onödigt irriterande söligt mest hela tiden. Men älskar också samma teknik. Vad hade man gjort utan internetforum, skrivprogram som open office, telefoner, elektronisk musik, mm? Det är inte mycket jag finner glädje av/intresse i, men inte ens det lilla får jag. Börjar ju undra vad det kan va för jäkla besvärjelse som ligger över mig... undrar om man kan höja dosen på venlafaxin/efexor från 150 mg till 300 mg bara sådär? Har ju bara 150mg-kapslar. Har typ äntligen fått svar på varför psyk varit såna dryga djävla as de senaste fem åren... Varför jag inte fått nån vettig behandling, utan bara fått snacka med diverse extramorsor som mest varit pengar kastade i sjön, bara fått massa onödiga mediciner och typ inte blivit tagen på allvar eller över huvud taget fått nån hjälp: utan diagnos, ingen behandling. Jepp, så är det. De ska brinna i helvetet...

Watching everything fall apart

River mig i bitar. Sliter mig itu. Varje andetag jag andas river som sylvassa knivsegg i min själ. River, sliter mig i stycken. Bit för bit. Andetag för andetag.

Och jag kan inte sova när jag blöder ihjäl. Med loppor i lakanen, när jag svettas och kvävs i värmen utan syre. När det river som sylvassa knivsegg i min själ.

Skuggorna förföljer mig. Skuggorna från då, framtiden och nuet. Mest är det nuet. Jag lever i nuet. Försöker att inte älta det som var. Det som var det var, inget mer med det. Och det som kommer att ske vet vi inget om så det är lika bra att sluta låtsas. Men lever man i nuet så står man stilla. Det fanns ingen gårdag, jag låter inte mina erfarenheter hindra mig. Men det finns heller ingen morgondag. Vad gör det för skillnad om jag dricker mig apfull en helg om jag ändå inte vill vakna dagen efter? Skit samma om jag röker tre paket cigg på en kväll, vad spelar det för roll om jag sover bort en hel dag eller helt plötsligt beslutar mig för att sluta äta? Jag lever för idag. Bara idag. Tiden är icke-existerande.

Klyftan växer sig större mellan oss. Jag vågar inget säga, inte till någon, allra minst mig själv. Vill inte att det ska va så, vill bara att allt ska bli bra. Men samtidigt så kommer den där krypande, ilande känslan fram igen. Vad vill jag nu? Har viljan övergett mig, och kvar står endast instinkter och behov? Kylan som letar sig in, tränger sig in, äter av mig. Men jag behöver dig, det gör jag. Men det får inte bara vara det, det får det bara inte. Du vet vad jag menar. Förlorar jag igen eller var jag aldrig ens med i loppet?

But the surface isn't hard to break. Just one tear and my whole world falls apart again. So don't cry, don't even think of it. It's like I'm made of glass, or as if I were a soap-bubble, so easy to break. So damn easy the surface cracks open over and over again... How many times can you patch up a soap-bubble and still be able to go on?

And no matter what I do (I don't have any tricks) I can't seem to get even a moment of rest. Not a single second. It's all repeating like a broken record, over and over until it's just the dust of it left. Burned so hard you can't even recognize it.

But what do I feel right now? Or am I still even capable of feeling or have I grinded out every ounce of that too? What is really left to feel... right in this moment..? I can't think of any human feeling with a name that would even resemble to this. This... I cannot grab it, nor control it. Cause I don't even know what it is. But I don't think I want to either... too damn painful, I'm sure.