As life flashes by

Will I look back upon my life when I die and wonder why I wasted my youth on loneliness and mending my broken heart? Or will I look back and think, shit I really did manage to live a whole life in barely 28 years? I'm divided by those two polar extremes, one part of me always worried that I'm not living my life to the fullest and then there's this other part that tells me that I truly have lived my life to the fullest.

At the best of my ability, something deep inside me tells me that haven't I cried, laughed, screamed, dreamed and done everything I possibly could have in spite of everything? I'm broken, I was born broken, but it's never stopped me. Taking a butt load of medication every day for years didn't stop me from drinking and experimenting with illegal drugs.

Being well aware of the dangers of STD's, rape and ending up pregnant didn't stop me from sleeping with everyone who ever wanted me. Living with this damaged mind of mine didn't stop me from trying to study and even work for short moments. Not being able of taking care of myself didn't stop me from trying to live on my own for 3 years.

Being a very impulsive person didn't stop me from getting a thought through tattoo, piercings that left scars, and other scars. Being a mental fuck up and a transsexual didn't stop me from dating and going after people way out of my league. I've been dumped and I've dumped others. Been accused of cheating.

Had threesomes, played with BDSM, transitioned from female to male, believed I've had every possible sexual orientation before settling for panromantic grey area asexual, kissed a celebrity, been to concerts, taken loads of medication all with interesting results and side effects, been bullied, been sexually assaulted and raped on Valentine's Day.

I've become a heavy smoker, been alcoholic, lived in the country and in a city, found a soul mate in my best friend since we were 13 years old, fallen hard and hopelessly for people who never even once considered me and thus I have been in love although unrequited, been through an abusive relationship, had pets, rode horses, had virtually every hair colour, been overweight as well as medium weight and soon also underweight.

I've gotten good grades in art and language, learned how to draw and sew my own clothes, learned how to make fake dreads and played with make up, been living both as male and female, tried to learn how to play guitar, I revolted against my bullies in elementary school, had the best teachers, had the most supportive mother... the list can go on forever.

But you could definitely say that I have lived. Despite the constant anxiety, the isolation and the suicidal tendencies which by the way also are life experiences. But have I lived enough? My life could end at any moment now if K really does die cause so would I if he does. And I mean that literally. I will end my life if he dies, that's what I mean when I say that I can't live without him.

I imagine sitting on a very high roof top one day with a final suicide letter in my hand, wearing the best clothes I have and thinking about what happened to my life. Did I really live it, or was I just waiting for that miracle all along and everything else was just empty activities? Did anything ever mean anything at all? Did I come here by mistake, will death finally take me back home to where I belong? Was it all for nothing, or was it everything?

Hanging by a thread

My neighbour, the guy living right on top of me, was just rushed away in an ambulance. I saw it all from my living room window. What worries me is not his health though, but how little I care about if he'll be coming back home from the hospital again or not, that is to say if he survives or dies. By the way, he is old and this place is mostly like sort of a retirement home, I wouldn't think of him as probably dying if he was any younger than the 70-80-ish I would guess that he is.

But shouldn't I care, at least a little bit? Have I lost touch with humanity so to the point that no human life is of any kind of value to me except from those select few that I happen to know and care about personally? I knew I've gotten a little bit colder, but damn...

No, I feel nothing at all but perhaps a bit of curiosity. Will I get a new neighbour if he dies? Someone who spits a bit less off the balcony and doesn't hopelessly try to interact with me when I really just want to be left alone which by the way is 100% of the time?

I have gotten colder, I just don't know what exact degree. First I just stopped watching the news on TV, stopped reading the newspaper. My friends pretty much abandoned me around the time I moved here and I in turn abandoned them. Or was it the other way around? Not everyone of course, but pretty much the majority of everyone I know.

It was already before that, about a year before I moved here. I was pretty lonely in Gottsunda in Uppsala as well, my last apartment there. I don't remember much of 2012, except from the apartment I rented for free. Don't ask me how I got away with that, technicalities. They never sent me any bills. Anyway, from the end of 2011 until I moved to my parent's place on Gotland in June or if it was July 2012 I think, I was in a pretty lonely place.

There were the random parties, but I don't remember having any friends, or my boyfriend at the time, over to my home. I must have visited others though. Yes, I did that. But it always felt one way, you know. Like I was just blending in with the crowds and no one wanted to see me one on one.

Eventually I shut down, shut out the people that I was living for. It's true, I only stayed in Uppsala for the sake of living close to my friends who didn't seem to care if I lived there or not. So the loneliness, I brought it with me when I moved here. But then it intensified, became hostile. It's almost like the loneliness inside me is like a beast, a monster of some kind, that grows more hostile with time as I let it roam free, unchecked.

Not only do I no longer care about anyone except maybe at most 10 people on this entire planet, I came to despise humanity altogether. I want war and mayhem, I want any kind of government in I don't care which country to create massive mass destruction weapons and erase the entire world. Just wipe it all out, me included. I was hoping for the world to end in 2012, but as many others I did not believe it actually would.

Now, there are 5 people that I truly love in this world, perhaps another 5 that I'd care if something happened to them. I don't care about anyone else, I really, really don't. I've become cold and cynical, bitter and tired of life. And I know I'm not the only one feeling this way. I wish I could take you with me and we could go somewhere far from the rest of the world. To another world, in whatever sense I'm not going to specify even if I had the slightest idea. There aren't that many options, but option, we do have.

I don't know what I'm getting at, you have your own lives now. I'm just a part of them, not the reason why you go on living. I wouldn't even want that much, it's way too much to ask of and a huge responsibility that I wouldn't be able to handle. No, you go on live your lives. I just try to matter to some degree at least.

But it's hard. I feel like I'm stuck here now. Not on this island, but in this situation. I won't let anyone in, I certainly won't let anyone out. I cling to, hold on to old memories, fantasies, a future that may or may not be real some day. I'm not living. I haven't been living for a long time now. It feels like I left something else behind me that day I moved here from Uppsala, something that I won't be able to find just around the corner. My life. Any kind of purpose to go on breathing.

No, I'm still not suicidal, but you know me, I wouldn't tell you if I was. I have my reasons for never telling you. But right now... now I'm just breathing, exhaling and inhaling without much reason at all to do so. I'm trying to kill myself slowly while waiting for a miracle to happen, waiting to be saved. The only thing, or person rather, that could save me. I'm waiting for him, and in the meantime, I'm just hanging by a thread really. Maybe you already knew it, that I'm falling back again, slowly drowning in what I call the darkness.

A neighbour might die tonight, and I'm worried about a miracle that may never happen, that I might never get to truly live, I worry about my own life that is slipping away at the same time.

Wishes and wisdom

I just saw this episode of Torchwood, one of them that I remembered most vividly from the first time I saw the whole series. In that episode there's a device that can show you glimpses of the past, the future or your own death. It just shook me so strongly this time, something Jack said, but I can't remember it now. I remember thinking that was a cool device to have first time I saw that episode years ago, but now... all I could think of is all the despair such a device could bring mankind.

Perhaps I am too old for this young body, cause I always seem to recognise myself the most in fictive characters who are way old, immortal. Characters like Jack Harkness, vampires, wizards, ghosts and so on. I don't even know if I'm that wise or anything, it's more of a vague sensation. That I know stuff I'm not supposed to, like I know too much, about things a 24 year old shouldn't.

I wouldn't consider myself that old, not in my mind at least. It's more like I've transcended age completely and now I'm neither young nor old, beyond time. And maybe that's why I my conception of time is so fucked up, why I take things so slow and can keep calm in situations others panic over. It's like I just know without knowing what it is that I know; does that make any sort of sense at all? That things will sort themselves out eventually and turn out the way they're supposed to, no matter what you do.

Those things that I know I don't know how to share, because either no one's listening, or it's something they have to find out for themselves. Mostly it's the latter, and some things I don't want anyone else to find out. Not that I want to keep anyone in the dark about it, it's just that it's most likely too much to handle. You know I've been struggling with it. The meaning of life, how I'm gonna die, things about how time works, memories from past lives and so on.

I'm divided, if I would want to keep my knowledge as it is or to never have gained it in the first place. It's an awful burden, yet a wonderful gift. Not very comforting and terribly upsetting. But also an asset and helpful in understanding the world and to accept it as it is.

Some things I have already accepted. Like that life is unfair and that I can't possibly stop myself from killing myself that one day when it will happen, hopefully far in the future. So yeah, I think I have accepted my self fulfilling prophecy, cause there's really no way around it. Somedays it's hard though, thinking that it's like I'm trapped in a maze with only one horrible way out of it. Cause how can I make myself die in another manner than suicide? I can't. My fate is sealed. So why not accept it?

I'm finally gonna try and live my life to the fullest at the best of my ability. I'm gonna get my gender reassigned legally, finish writing my autobiography, change the way I look, get my damn tattoos even if I'll need to steal money to afford them, drive a car, travel to London and all the little things on that endless list of things to do before I die.

Everyone should do that, no matter if you are/think you are going to die sooner than you hope for or not. Everyone should try their best to live their lives to the fullest. I'll hit you if you don't agree with me on that point! I just hope I'll actually do it this time, but I think so, cause never before has it felt this real. The cruelty of the prophecy and the vitality of life itself awakening within me. I think it's a good balance, as good as it can get. That I want to live and that more than ever, at the same time as I'm terrified to die before I'm done living, if you know what I mean. Life and death is cruel and unfair, but I can't let that ruin me. I can hope and dream, carefully so, but I can't change what's beyond me.

I just hope that I'll be able to continue like this, with this urge in me to change things to the better, with a will to live instead of just a will to escape anything related to living in the real world. Just wish that I won't fall back into the darkness.

Wake up, society!

I started writing about something else when I came up with this text, so if the beginning here looks a little weird, that is probably why. I'm not even trying to make this text simple and easy to read, you just have to try to tag along with my fairly complicated and just a tad bit too long sentences. You should appreciate it that I for once write from my heart.

I can recite my whole life from my first memory when I was two years old the very first summer I had when me and my parents moved to Alunda in 1991, up until this day. Cause I did, you know, in my autobiography, and it's all there. Or almost all of it, it's not quite finished yet.

The one book I will leave behind me the day I die. Yes, that is my plan. To write it, polish it and finish it, print it out, but leave it here on my desk safe and sound, until that day comes. Cause I will reveal way too much that I don't want anyone to know until I'm not around here anymore. It will also be my final say, my suicide note.

Not to be like that, but that book would most likely make me kinda famous, if I'd be alive to see it or if it get published after my death, or published at all that is. It will be one of a kind, I can assure you. The life of a young man who lived for a whole lifetime and experienced so much, but still somehow managed it. It's tragic, cause I really wanted that book to inspire people who also have a shitty life, a message to them that you can get through life even though you are miserable and have all the reasons to "justify" a suicide. It's tragic, because at the end of the book, I will actually have died from suicide.

I don't want to be famous, you know, at least not for all those stupid reasons today's youth seek fame. But if I would want to to become famous, it would be for that I inspire people to cherish life, seek wisdom and don't give a damn fuck what other people think you should do with your life. To inspire people to not give up on their seemingly impossible dreams even when your loved ones tell you to get real and grow up cause you're supposed to be a "valuable member of society".

Well, let me tell you this: you don't own society anything! You didn't ask to be born, you're not a slave to man made rules, you haven't signed any contract with your own blood. You were born to be you, to make your life valuable to you and no one else, and to survive at the best of your ability.

Now I doubt these words will at all help, and I know there are a lot of people out there who don't agree with me about said words and all of what I will be writing from here on in this entry. It's all about "get an education, grown up, get a job, fold your laundry, grow up, move out and did I mention grow up?!" nowadays. It's sad, it truly is.

I think about slavery. Harsch, perhaps, but that is the way society is going, in case you haven't noticed. Today's youth come off as lazy, despondent and that their lives are practically meaningless unless they take up that mop and clean the damn floors already or they won't get food on their tables. See what I mean?

I realise, cause I'm not that daft, that society is ruled by money and independence above all else. Being dependent is being a burden, living on social welfare is basically stealing other people's tax money, and crashing on your parents sofa until you're 35 isn't very productive - but just hear me out, okay? Complaining about having to abide to society's structured "rules" isn't about being lazy.

I'm walking on that thin line between being mentally disabled and just a lazy brat, but I'm not blind or stupid enough to not realise that I am privileged cause I don't need a job or pay for my own flat. What I want is for everyone, not just young people, to stop shoving it into your own and other peoples faces that you are useless in society. You don't have to be a good citizen for your life to matter.

I'm quite a heavy burden for this society. I live on your tax money, so indirectly it's YOU who pay for my rent, my clothes, food and cigarettes. I can't really afford much else cause the payment I get is minimum wage. I take a lot of prescription drugs, and the state pays for most of it (cause högkostnadsskydd, you know) and the same with almost all of my psychiatric hospital visits. If that wasn't enough I live under LSS as you all know, which means that I have people who have it as their job to do my dishes and help me clean up my mess. Literally.

But do I feel guilty? Hardly. Do you know why? Because it is my right as a member of society to get the help that I need in order to survive. The privilege, is that I'm sick enough to get that help, but others who also suffer might not be, and they die because society won't help them.

People who have had the guts to confront me about my way of living (most just give a friendly pat on my shoulder and tell me not to worry, it's gonna work out in the end for me as well, but I appreciate it when people are honest with me, so don't take this wrong) have asked me what I really want to do with my life. I don't quite understand that question, to be perfectly honest. I'm not halfway anywhere, I'm doing all that I can and sometimes more when I have the strength to. I've survived numerous of suicide attempts, mental torment and a disabling headache for a decade, I can just barely stay above the surface most days, but I still try my best to pursue my long term goals and dreams.

People seem to just assume that I want a job like I'm supposed to. Make my own money the way I'm supposed to. And what if I don't want that? It doesn't matter how damn drunk you are if you ask a person that sort of question, you should fucking respect an honest answer: no I don't, and you can't argue with that. I don't want to work for money, because doing some shit job where someone tells me what to do, just to get a pay check at the end of the month, just isn't my cup of tea.

If I would ever have a job, it would be something that I enjoy. I don't mean a paid full-time vacation, I mean an actual profession that doesn't make you long for Fridays and hate Mondays. Now, I don't technically need a job of any kind, but that's beside the point. It truly is, because the message I want to get out is this: if you can avoid the responsibilities society has handed out for you, fucking do it.

Maybe you don't want to be role model of the year, famous or even the slightest bit of a rebel, but not wanting to be a part of this slavery doesn't make you lazy. That, is what truly makes you an individual. To be able to step aside and take another road to the same goal we are all aiming for: to be happy.

I wish someone could actually listen to me, when I say you don't have to flip burgers in order to survive, there are other options. There truly are. Just open your eyes and see that there is a whole world in front of you.

Pointless

I bleached my hair in a dream tonight. Wonder what that's supposed to mean. Maybe that I made the right choice in bleaching it for real. I've had recurring dreams where I'm blonde, it's almost like that's the way it's supposed to be somehow.

World of warcraft is having issues again. They're working on that, but I don't know how long it's gonna take. I'm trying not to get hysteric about it, telling myself I can embroider, write or knit instead. That it doesn't have to be so very upsetting. Not that it works though.

Everything seems so very pointless. What am I really doing with my life? Escaping it. I'm trying my hardest to escape from my horrible life without killing myself. Yeah, yeah, things are going well and I don't really want to die. It's just that I don't really want to live either. But embroidering things that I never finish, writing a lot of crap, playing video games without an end or any sort of real achievements... isn't that a bit pointless?

I don't know where I'm getting at, cause apparently I only like to do such "meaningless" things, which means that I actually bring some meaning to them. Nothing is simple though, is it? Cause they aren't totally meaningless, since I enjoy doing them, and by enjoying meaningless things they aren't per definition meaningless anymore.

So if there was a point with this entry, it would be that even though everything seems pointless sometimes, it doesn't have to mean that it is.