Dark Era Continues

Or so it seems like. I got rid of entries that are just plain bore. 

Now I appear to be full of red. Mmmm.

Confession of a Mnemophobia LAST

I started blogging because I knew nobody was reading it and I could write anything I wanted because I have healthy conscience and some decency. If someone read it and liked it, that would be a bonus; am more than super happy to share opinions with perfect strangers, or people who really know me.

 

When I stared to go all freaky and paranoid in this place, hiding traces of myself and hid behind it all by not signing in for ages, I just knew it was my time to bugger off. Who needs a double life that tortures oneself and be a reminder of the real life that you cannot bare?

 

I have been hovering over the idea of writing the empty, useless stuff, and keeping it all vague and non-me. I did that especially when I felt unsafe in here. I still wrote what I really wanted to write time to time, but the frequency became too sporadic. I couldn't stay because I was scared shit, but I didn't want to leave because I resented the fact I was herded off by some fuckers who worth nothing on the face of the earth. This trial of me trying to act OK by doing unimportant things like social-networking was not working and it began showing.

 

I still don't know who read my entries. I do feel that some of the entries are waste of the time and space, just like my memory. I hate the existence of my memory, it hunts me and makes me this ridiculous person who can never be honest.

 

Still dwelling on the idea of retirement. This is pegging me down to a point of life I rather pretend didn't happen. My obsessive personality has pinned me to a big wall smeared with stains of sweat and tears and all kind of human dirt. Fuck, enough is enough. Let me get out of it.

Confession of a Mnemophobia FIRST

I can't write all that well and have been worse lately. I have been writing boring shit and I do have a reason for them.

 

This place is becoming not so safe. I now know too many people here. Not that I don't want that, but that's not what exactly I (literally) signed up for. There was anonymity in here, like some chat rooms. I don't put out anything that identifies me, and I look up others' profiles and fantasise (not in a sexual way but just like a child dreams and whips up some stories in its head using things around) how they look and sounds etc. knowing that I will never meet them for real.

 

I did join up because my real life friend invited me, but the deal was that he would be the only one who knew me. It was my way of saying

"This is how important you are to me, babe."

He was, still is, a very special human being.

 

It did take a long time before some real person started to show up. Once MySpace hit UK it became unstoppable. There goes my ex flat mate, my ex best friend, my ex, just ex. People whom I never wanted to see again. People, some of whom I wish dead. People who took everything away from me.

 

So, I then started looking for the rest of them.

 

I kept away from most of them. Well, I did contact some of them and some turned out to be a nice surprise, some avoided me, some I hate even more now. But I kept away from majority of them.

 

On top of it all, I took all the pictures down which looked remotely like me, though people would never say that I look anything like those photos. I took any info that says this is me, not Daraness.

 

Basically, I made sure that they can't contact me, though I could contact them. I could stalk them IF I intended to.

 

I am just SO afraid that they will come back and remind me of all the things that happened.

 

Humans' worst enemy is their past. No doubt.

Bunch of People

...Who Want to Control My Life

 

When I was in my course, everyone got this infectious fantasy about working on cruise ships. Some guest speaker came to give us a talk one day and said that it is a great way to kick start a career in journalism / photography. Some of us started to talk about it fanatically, and many of us set our hearts on doing that after leaving college.

 

I don't like travelling. I am not people person. I hate journalism. I don't do ship. It wasn't for me and I have dogs.

 

When I got myself in the situation I am in now, I naturally started looking for a job so we can live happily ever after, and found myself completely lost for sense of direction. I still wanted to do photo stuff but there was no job I could afford to do.

 

What was left was a job on a cruise ship. It made me laugh, since my ex mates had to give up their cruising fantasy because;

1. there was no such job as cruise ship photographer.

2. they were too tied down to leave because of boyfriends and girlfriends.

3. they didn't have talent nor guts to do it.

 

The cruise job was OK paying (not brill, but OK) and shift was only for 2-3 months, and DID involve photo-shit. I had to be interested.

 

My parents thought it was a fantastic job and I should take it, and my current nightmare thought there is nothing better than me leaving ground and disappear for 3 months at a time. They went on quite a bit on how great idea this all was. They all promised that they will take care of the dogs and the house. They fucking promised to run my ground life while I am gone.

 

I somehow knew that it wouldn't work. I just did. My folks are responsible people and my dogs are healthy, they wouldn't forget me, but I just knew that "people" could not run my life while I am absent. And they didn't / couldn't.

 

Funny thing was, they never even mentioned, not once, that if I would be great to do that job. It was as if the job was their fantasy and I was there to serve them to bring this dream scenario into their reality, in remotely touchable way.

 

I really need to find what I want to do. I know now, more than ever, that other people can't possibly know what I should do for living. Especially when I don't know fuck all what I desire.

Vague and Fatigue

Eat it, coz you don't know what you desire.
Eat it again, coz you ache and crave.
Eat it aging and again, coz you are completely lost.
Eat it till the end of it, coz it helps you.
Eat till you drop. Eat.