I restrain myself so much that sometimes I fear that I’m going to implode. I can picture myself going rampage and breaking all that’s in front of me. I really don’t know if restraining is really something someone sane would do. I’m not sane. I’ve never been.

I cannot act anymore, I cannot act that I have a way out of this anymore.

But I’m too insignificant to die.

And all that’s going on my mind is: ‘AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!’

I’m at my breaking point.

…,
~Vanny

Outside: …

Inside: AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!
breaks down
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
breaks more
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
cannot cry, cannot feel

“All day I’ve been wondering what is inside of me who can I blame for it?

Come in if you like but just don’t tell my family, they’d never forgive me, they’d say that I’m crazy, but they would say anything if it would shut me up. Shut me up.”
Excerpts from ‘Runs in the family’ by Amanda Palmer.

I have no hope.

And I hate you hope. I really do hate you. Even when I know that I’m right, and that I have no hope, you make my heart ache with the fleeting idea that I might be wrong.

Shut the hell up! You know that I’m right, every aspect and step points towards this direction.

Listen, you damn hope, that’s the last time that I’m telling you this:

I have no hope.

With love,
~Vanny

Done. Wasted.

Will I ever grow up? Huh?

I’m really done with myself, as have everybody else.

Please don’t call me again. Please forget me.

I know you will… and everything will be alright.

With love,
~Vanny

Ps: All I really meant to say was: ‘please love me, please notice me, please talk to me’, but I have no hope at all. When will I resign?

I’m living quite like a vampire these days. I haven’t seen the sun for days! And maybe that’s an explanation to why I’ve been so gloomy.

I sat thinking of all the wasted time… all the wasted music that I’ve never listened to.

What am I doing? I’m just wasting more and more time.

I’ve got to get out of here, at once.

…

How long will it take for me to die from starvation?

Looking at all those anorexic models, it will take a long, loooong time.

With love,
~Vanny

And to think that I wrote some of these things about two years ago.

Sometimes the less you write, better.

[These are some posts on a very old blog.]

March 4th, 2008
.it just seems like everybody can be better than me,
.maybe i just need to hang out more.

“to understand this crazy world,
but you’re not gonna crack
no you’re never gonna crack

[...]
too late for solutions to solve in the setting sun
so run my baby run my baby run

life can be so cruel
don’t it astound you?
so when nothing seems too certain or safe
let it burn through you
you can keep it pure on the inside
and you know what you believe to be right
so you’re not gonna crack
no you’re never gonna crack
[...]

find out who you are before you regret it
because life is so short, there’s no time to waste it”

February 27th, 2008
’cause i thought i was the only one,
the only one to know how to be cool…

guess i was wrong.

but one day, i hope i can be better than everyone.

guess i’m still wrong.

.

i don’t know why i still think this way…
i wanted to say more, but it seems that i’ve calm down.

i need to distract,
stop thinking already.

i just need to sleep.

December 19th, 2007
i can’t sleep
i can’t scream

.go.to.sleep.already,folish.child.
…i can’t?

September 05, 2007

[they never meant to be together, so neither do i]

when the obvious becomes the nightmare
and the imagination the least likely

when the world stops
and there’s nothing more to thing about

no, the world has never stopped.
and the obvious was never possible either

nostalgias are my last joy.
surely I will not shine

[listening kagayaki from candidate for goddess OST]

~~~

I’m not exactly sad, I’m just thinking: ‘were the hell that creative me have gone?’.

Maybe she’s still here.

With love,
~Vanny

…I found this old paper where I had written the following content:

‘It doesn’t matter if it has an end, it always has a beginning. What really matters is not the end of the road, but the road itself, as it never ends. The point of arrival doesn’t exist, just the exit point. [I want the infinity]’

Now I have no idea if I heard this somewhere or if it was I that thought about that, usually when I write things that I heard I put some quotation marks, but this has none.

Also, there was another paper with this one that says following:

‘I wanna hear about me,
Don’t wanna hear about anybody else,
Don’t wanna hear about what I should’ve done.
I want to see the only true me.’

Again, I can’t identify if it was a music I was listening to or if I made-up. But this last one I’m more to the side that I made-up, firstly because it has no musicality, secondly because if I ever write some lyrics it means that I know the music pretty well, meaning I would instantly recognize the song. (Also I tried to google the lyrics and I found none music.)

Yesterday, at college, we had a debate about beauty and the fashion industry. The subject affects me so much that I had to calm myself for long minutes in the bathroom and I also had trouble sleeping. I guess I know so much how beauty has its privileges that I don’t want to live if I’m not that pretty.

Twisted, isn’t it? To be that shallow, to want that much such a frivolous thing like ‘beauty’. I feel angry with myself, but I cannot help to still want it. Every girl wants to be pretty, don’t they?

Sigh.

Birthday is coming, I’m getting older.

I’m scared.

PMS mode on,
~Vanny

Just yesterday I discovered that I don’t want to live. Not with myself, not from my perspective, not my own life. I feel like I’m not a worth subject, that I’m not capable of an interesting life. At least, not like people around me.

That’s why I run, I dream, I hide, I imagine, I do not live. Now I ask, what’s the opposite word for ‘living’? Because ‘death’ doesn’t sound like the word I’m looking for. I’m searching a word that can actually explain properly what I am living – oh, how ironic.

Guess I am still breathing, am I not?

How can I ever forgi-, no, I mean, how can I accept myself?

‘They’ll never get you, people will never understand.’

‘…but underneath she’s just a broken girl.’

Trying to start all over,
~Vanny

I don’t know very well where should I begin, but I wonder, does it really matter where I begin? Is the first impression ephemeral?

Hmph, anyway, college has been superb but weighty on me. Though I’ve matured, I see myself making some old mistakes.

Old habits die hard, I guess. I haven’t changed that negligent way of me, I wish I was more diligent.

But, hopefully, I’ve became much better on human interaction. Really, I’ve always had this problem with relations, communication and dealings with people. I didn’t know how to behave- no, I was so afraid I did not know how to behave or that I would make any mistake that I usually became inhibit.

Now I’m rejoicing in the fact that I found incredible people, who I actually talk with, call me out and etcetera. They consist into 3 beings:
1) The lovely Ms. J who is a short, funny and cute girl. She loves most of the stuff I love too. Like mangá, anime, BJD, poupeé, gothic lolita, kimonos and the list goes on. Resuming: all that stuff that’s nerd but nevertheless cool.
2) The so cult Mr. A. He’s the typical cult gay guy, – who is certainly gay – has read all the books you can imagine and has an opinion on just about anything. Sometimes I feel like we have a tough-love relation, since we both can be annoyingly opinators. But I admire him. You know that one person that you meet and you automatically think: ‘this person is destined to be a visionary.’? He’s that person.
3) And lastly, but not least, the wacko: Mr. K. He’s a eccentric alternative boy. He’s gay – have you noticed I have only gay friends? – and hilarious. He can be a bit venomous, but not in a horrific way. I think we have a, not exactly more intimate, but a closer relation since Mr. A and Ms. J are really close to each other, what shun us a bit.

Talking about them reminds me that we have gone out together this weekend.

We were at this café – which had this amazing lemon pie – talking about random things, mostly about college and people indoor. Somehow I managed to bend that conversation towards Mr. Naru, – seems that I’ve became a pro at anyhow putting him as the center subject – and for the thousand time I asked them to be my personal spying agents to discover if he’s truly gay or not, since they know him too.

Probably was the way I asked. With that mischief grin that was, somehow, shy and indulgent, what unmasked my intentions. So Ms. J asked/spoke to me: “Whoa Vanny, stop it, you’re in love with him for, like, 2 years! Isn’t this a little too much?”. And I was a bit taken back by this. Yeah, is not exactly true that I’m in love with him, but is not a lie either. What is more confusing ever. I gave an excuse, a very lame one on my opinion, and we changed the topic.

Hm, I’m such a confused being.

And the funny fact is that always that I go out with them I find myself silent in thoughts. Happy but troubled somehow.

It is not the first time this happens. Last time, we went to a nightclub – were I gave the trashiest yet amusingly glorious performance ever dancing Hot N Cold by Kate Perry – and had a blast. I went back home really late, or really early depending on your view.

On my way back home driving, it started to dawn. The light from the sun came behind me brightening the cat’s eyes on the road. On my vision, it was beautiful. But considering the state of my mood, I think just anything would be eighth world’s wonder.
I watched that while I pondered about the course my life was taking. I was so wrapped up in thoughts that I was driving quite slow, what is a rarity for I love to run.

Seems that they can always make me contemplate about the future, or anything related. Is that a bad thing?

Life can be a superb thing, don’t you think? Full of joy at times, full of sorrow at other, and they could even emerge together, but nonetheless always held together by the glue that is love and friendship.

Life is a paradox of infinite wonder, driven by our primordial instinct and need to be accepted and cherished. That having been said, the grandest question of them all must still be raised:

‘What is life without strife? Is it really a life at all?’

In a haze,
~Vanny

I’m on a verge of crying. Or shouting, wherever feels more releasing.

‘I cannot do the same mistakes’, ‘I cannot keep making my friends as my ear to talk to’, ‘I cannot feel lazy’, ‘I cannot look ugly’, ‘I cannot be annoying’, ‘I’ll never find love’, ‘I don’t know what real love is’, ‘I cannot…’

ENOUGH!

I’m tired of reading overdramatic things and believing them as it is!

Yes, I think you’re wrong, completely wrong. And I believe that, yes, good writers can describe love. And darling, you’re being so histrionic – it have been only 3 months, suit yourself, please.

Call it whatever! Frustration by not being as happy? Yes, I believe is that too. But I cannot help to notice how theatrical seems what you’ve written.

And you know what? Life does not have ‘happily ever after’.

If you’re lost, please read this.

…

Why do you haunt me, why?

Argh, I was so damn happy this week, I took only a meager dream to unsettle me of my happiness.

I need someone to talk to, but I do not want to bother anyone.

Meh, in the end I’ll end up calling someone anyway.

Way to go.

Should I call an asylum?
~Vanny