There have always been people in my life that only see what is before their eyes and lack the intelligence, maturity or depth of thought to realise that this is not what they will get.
There are those people who only see the world in black and white and fail to realise that the world has millions on millions of colours. There are those who believe their way is the only way and fail to realise that this sort of thought makes them ridiculous. There are those who are intolerant of what they do not know; in fact, they reject anything that doesn't fit in the little narrow-minded view they have of the world.
There are those who do not even know that man is a complex thing. Those who do not know that a mere facade is what is facing them and that this facade is a true yet very very small part of the person that stands before them. This kind of people take one look at you and think they know you, think they've got you pegged, think you are a two-dimensional being, think they can control you and they can always predict what you'll do.
There are this sort of people who fail to realise that a facade can be worn not for deception, but for keeping affairs civil, for politeness, for diplomacy, for making the world easier for living. These are the people who will think a joker is a fool, a dreamer is a loony, a person who searches is a person lost. These people will think an animal sleeping is an animal dead, will meet the wolf and treat it as a lapdog.
They are welcome to their reality and their beliefs. I would respect them, if their behaviour did not affect me or those dear to me. I am very very patient. I give hundreds of chances, I give hundreds of warnings. But when I snap, I fucking snap.
So, a change is coming. A shift. Some are no longer worthy of my nice persona. If they had convinced themselves that my good behaviour meant that I was a new-born pup, they are in for a bloody nasty surprise.
There. Ranted and will not get an anger headache tonight. How fucking lovely.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Hateful things
My pet (*snuggle snuggle*) urged me - in a very nice way - to write a post, so here it is.
Problem is, these past few days I am a bit tired and moody - bloody weather doesn't help, either; maaaan, I hate cold - so I couldn't think of anything nice to write about. Sloshing around in rainy streets, listening to David Sandstrom on my mp3, I was reminded of one thing I really, really fucking hate: wet socks.
Thus, here they are, in no specific order or level of loathing, the 10 things I currently hate the most.
1. Wet socks
You know the feeling. The street is flooded to knee-level or the shoes are not water-tight and suddenly, your feet are wet. And cold. And squishy - very squishy. And you can't do anything about it, but trudge back home, take off your shoes - with difficulty, wet socks stick - and peel off these soaking, clingy, heavy pieces of cloth and throw them with a splat! somewhere. And your feet are blue with cold, all wrinkly skinned and horrible. Even writing about it makes me upset.
2. Sugar/milk in coffee/tea
My tastebuds die a painful death every time a waiter makes a mistake and adds sugar to my coffee. As if I don't stress it out much: "Black. Plain. Straight. No sugar. No milk. Just add water". No, for some it's still not enough. And then, I get my longed-for cup of joe, take a lustful sip and it's "Aaaack!" *spit spit*
3. Cheap cigar smoke in small, poorly ventilated places
I smoke, you smoke, we smoke and aren't we fucking enjoying it. Even in small, poorly ventilated places (apologies dear smokeless, red-and-watery-eyed friend, who puts up with us). And then, someone lights up a cigar... Cough cough cough hack and cough some more.
4. Crowded streets
I have mild claustrophobia. Mild as in "I haven't had a panic attack yet". But I have come really fucking close. One of my biggest triggers is crowds. I loathe crowds. I can't walk as I please (my normal walk is a kind of stridey-bouncey thing), there are people that pop out of nowhere, I'm trying to keep an eye on everyone, going through a million attack/defence scenarios in my mind for each one of them, they stop, start, loiter, lounge, shuffle, window-shop, talk, hum, shout and it drives me nuts.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY42uBkJw_8QBKgkhoEFejuXQFvFR9sAYdZJ1epRGle9TEthZx8sznBGtm7bgI-1LZc63GMG_2bR6pab0Exr2C4WMiV1Y7cyX1RlZ2YDQ7zzd31-O6pUH77xDCyT0b2l6V5hzP82HMuqYf/s320/big-crowd.jpg)
5. Underground places
Another one of my triggers. I took a loooong time to feel comfortable on the subway. It's underground. No natural light ever. Dark dark places that creep at the edges of the artificial light. Eerie soulless quiet but for man-made noises. Brrrr...
6. Too fast elevators
No, not because of the claustrophobia thing. Because they make me feel that my stomach is pressed right down on my toes initially and then that it's about to pop out of my mouth and hit the ceiling. Can you spell nauseous?
7. Hair in drains/flecks of dried food on dishes
If I stay over somewhere, there is little more off-putting for me than supposedly "clean" dishes, that have not been washed carefully and still carry flecks of dried food, and finding hair in the drains. I don't mind lack of order, but lack of hygiene is a no-no-NO.
8. Rhythmic, monotonous sounds
I have already covered that in another post, so...
9. Tasteless tomatoes
Tomato sould taste like a tomato and not like a cut-out, red-painted piece of cardboard. I love tomato sauce for spaghetti, I love tomato salad, I love chewing on tomatoes. But if I bite on a flavourless one, my mood is totally spoiled...
10. Fat pillows
Though a pillow is not really a necessity for me, my favourite would be thin and hard, sort of what you'd get if you folded up a hoodie. What I can't stand no matter what, are fat, fluffy pillows. I get a crick on my neck, I get a cramp on my back, I toss and turn constantly, I curse the poor sod who placed it on the bed, until I decide that enough is enough and throw everything down on the floor.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJXHarmcS33MDIRzOnNBhJsoJllm6RyO19tjk4ub4ccuUHkEi7TvPNc3SHqAnMN_bTTtwtiWROv7QLtOYPAb3rogOxai9iK-TzQDUPfo99jFCCd16ELn33DRQnaIppJgqYMlwBWLQfCpd7/s320/fat-pillow.jpg)
So, this is it! Any pic that doesn't have a reference means it had been saved in my pc long ago and I've forgotten the link - apologies!
I'm trying to remember if I wanted to add anything else, but my brain is still fuzzy with sleep (just woke up. need coffeeee), so if I do remember, I'll write again.
Oh, gotta continue my favourite yaoi mangaka posts too....
Anyway, see ya!
Problem is, these past few days I am a bit tired and moody - bloody weather doesn't help, either; maaaan, I hate cold - so I couldn't think of anything nice to write about. Sloshing around in rainy streets, listening to David Sandstrom on my mp3, I was reminded of one thing I really, really fucking hate: wet socks.
Thus, here they are, in no specific order or level of loathing, the 10 things I currently hate the most.
1. Wet socks
You know the feeling. The street is flooded to knee-level or the shoes are not water-tight and suddenly, your feet are wet. And cold. And squishy - very squishy. And you can't do anything about it, but trudge back home, take off your shoes - with difficulty, wet socks stick - and peel off these soaking, clingy, heavy pieces of cloth and throw them with a splat! somewhere. And your feet are blue with cold, all wrinkly skinned and horrible. Even writing about it makes me upset.
2. Sugar/milk in coffee/tea
My tastebuds die a painful death every time a waiter makes a mistake and adds sugar to my coffee. As if I don't stress it out much: "Black. Plain. Straight. No sugar. No milk. Just add water". No, for some it's still not enough. And then, I get my longed-for cup of joe, take a lustful sip and it's "Aaaack!" *spit spit*
3. Cheap cigar smoke in small, poorly ventilated places
I smoke, you smoke, we smoke and aren't we fucking enjoying it. Even in small, poorly ventilated places (apologies dear smokeless, red-and-watery-eyed friend, who puts up with us). And then, someone lights up a cigar... Cough cough cough hack and cough some more.
4. Crowded streets
I have mild claustrophobia. Mild as in "I haven't had a panic attack yet". But I have come really fucking close. One of my biggest triggers is crowds. I loathe crowds. I can't walk as I please (my normal walk is a kind of stridey-bouncey thing), there are people that pop out of nowhere, I'm trying to keep an eye on everyone, going through a million attack/defence scenarios in my mind for each one of them, they stop, start, loiter, lounge, shuffle, window-shop, talk, hum, shout and it drives me nuts.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY42uBkJw_8QBKgkhoEFejuXQFvFR9sAYdZJ1epRGle9TEthZx8sznBGtm7bgI-1LZc63GMG_2bR6pab0Exr2C4WMiV1Y7cyX1RlZ2YDQ7zzd31-O6pUH77xDCyT0b2l6V5hzP82HMuqYf/s320/big-crowd.jpg)
5. Underground places
Another one of my triggers. I took a loooong time to feel comfortable on the subway. It's underground. No natural light ever. Dark dark places that creep at the edges of the artificial light. Eerie soulless quiet but for man-made noises. Brrrr...
6. Too fast elevators
No, not because of the claustrophobia thing. Because they make me feel that my stomach is pressed right down on my toes initially and then that it's about to pop out of my mouth and hit the ceiling. Can you spell nauseous?
7. Hair in drains/flecks of dried food on dishes
If I stay over somewhere, there is little more off-putting for me than supposedly "clean" dishes, that have not been washed carefully and still carry flecks of dried food, and finding hair in the drains. I don't mind lack of order, but lack of hygiene is a no-no-NO.
8. Rhythmic, monotonous sounds
I have already covered that in another post, so...
9. Tasteless tomatoes
Tomato sould taste like a tomato and not like a cut-out, red-painted piece of cardboard. I love tomato sauce for spaghetti, I love tomato salad, I love chewing on tomatoes. But if I bite on a flavourless one, my mood is totally spoiled...
10. Fat pillows
Though a pillow is not really a necessity for me, my favourite would be thin and hard, sort of what you'd get if you folded up a hoodie. What I can't stand no matter what, are fat, fluffy pillows. I get a crick on my neck, I get a cramp on my back, I toss and turn constantly, I curse the poor sod who placed it on the bed, until I decide that enough is enough and throw everything down on the floor.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJXHarmcS33MDIRzOnNBhJsoJllm6RyO19tjk4ub4ccuUHkEi7TvPNc3SHqAnMN_bTTtwtiWROv7QLtOYPAb3rogOxai9iK-TzQDUPfo99jFCCd16ELn33DRQnaIppJgqYMlwBWLQfCpd7/s320/fat-pillow.jpg)
So, this is it! Any pic that doesn't have a reference means it had been saved in my pc long ago and I've forgotten the link - apologies!
I'm trying to remember if I wanted to add anything else, but my brain is still fuzzy with sleep (just woke up. need coffeeee), so if I do remember, I'll write again.
Oh, gotta continue my favourite yaoi mangaka posts too....
Anyway, see ya!
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Blue, green and elven
That is sort of how my mood is these past few weeks or so, despite the fact I caught a cold that was making me cough my lungs out (almost - still breathing, so there must be some left).
My elven mood is the antithesis of my gothic mood. Instead of wearing blacks and lusting after knives, I find myself listening and dancing to reels, waking up with a jump every morning, setting about every task with a smile, looking at the people around me with affection.
And I find myself missing the green. I miss trees. A good, quiet forest, a little trickling stream hidden somewhere in the undergrowth, the sound of wind in the leaves. Recharging.
Soon. Soon soon really soon spring is coming. And then, I'm off! Hurray!
*sings happily and loudly and dissolves into a coughing fit*
Fuck.
(yeah, this elf swears - a lot)
Oh, oh, here's a pic of what my ideal house is like, too!
My elven mood is the antithesis of my gothic mood. Instead of wearing blacks and lusting after knives, I find myself listening and dancing to reels, waking up with a jump every morning, setting about every task with a smile, looking at the people around me with affection.
And I find myself missing the green. I miss trees. A good, quiet forest, a little trickling stream hidden somewhere in the undergrowth, the sound of wind in the leaves. Recharging.
Soon. Soon soon really soon spring is coming. And then, I'm off! Hurray!
*sings happily and loudly and dissolves into a coughing fit*
Fuck.
(yeah, this elf swears - a lot)
Oh, oh, here's a pic of what my ideal house is like, too!
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Confessions of a dreary mind
...and slightly sleepy at the moment, but what the hell...
Talking with my pet - well, texting, actually - she gave me the idea of confessions. I love lists. So what better than:
More Things You Don't Know About Me (probably)
~I have a dark brown birthmark on the back of my left shin. It's the size of a 2p coin.
~I used to have really straight, shiny, thick, black, oriental hair as a kid.
Now, it's naturally curly, frizzy, thin and brown.
~I have been in serious fistfights with nine people.
Three were members of my family.
Four had hurt people I loved.
Two were complete strangers.
I have been in mock fistsfights with anything from sixty to a hundred people.
All of these were during or between kung-fu classes.
~I don't feel pain like normal people.
I broke my toe during practice, carried on for six hours. Doctor found it by accident two years later.
I broke my collarbone a year ago. When the two parts ground against each other and dislodged, I just grunted and thought "Shit"
~I cry reading about impossible love stories, doomed or damned people, animals or humans suffering in human hands. Last time was a week ago, during a documentary on the slaying of dolphins.
~The sound of a faucet dripping, a clock ticking, a heartbeat against my ear or any sound that's rhythmic and unchanging, can drive me screaming insane. I don't think there's anything that can make me beg for death more easily (note this if you plan to torture me in the future).
~I've not murdered. I've not committed adultery. I've not stolen.
I have laughed - loudly and mockingly - in the face of every other commandment.
~I usually cannot keep an interest in something for more than a couple of months or in someone for more than a couple of weeks.
~When I get sick or otherwise bed-ridden, I cut off all contact with friends and family, turn off my laptop, turn off my CD-player. I read books and dream dark, gothic dreams, get wild inspirations, then start thinking about self-mutilation and that's when I know it's time for me to go out again or ask a friend for company.
~Last time I peed my pants was when I was in first grade in Elementary school, because the school toilets were dirty and ghastly and I didn't want to go there.
~Ten years ago, I cursed a healthy person - three months later, they died.
~My deepest fear is that nothing will affect me deeply ever.
My second deepest fear is that everything will affect me deeply always.
And, on that philosophical note, I'm off to read some yaoi on mangafox, eat five tangerines I've just peeled *crushes peel between fingers, sniffing ecstatically* smoke a cigarette or two and go to bed...
Nighty-night, babes.
Talking with my pet - well, texting, actually - she gave me the idea of confessions. I love lists. So what better than:
More Things You Don't Know About Me (probably)
~I have a dark brown birthmark on the back of my left shin. It's the size of a 2p coin.
~I used to have really straight, shiny, thick, black, oriental hair as a kid.
Now, it's naturally curly, frizzy, thin and brown.
~I have been in serious fistfights with nine people.
Three were members of my family.
Four had hurt people I loved.
Two were complete strangers.
I have been in mock fistsfights with anything from sixty to a hundred people.
All of these were during or between kung-fu classes.
~I don't feel pain like normal people.
I broke my toe during practice, carried on for six hours. Doctor found it by accident two years later.
I broke my collarbone a year ago. When the two parts ground against each other and dislodged, I just grunted and thought "Shit"
~I cry reading about impossible love stories, doomed or damned people, animals or humans suffering in human hands. Last time was a week ago, during a documentary on the slaying of dolphins.
~The sound of a faucet dripping, a clock ticking, a heartbeat against my ear or any sound that's rhythmic and unchanging, can drive me screaming insane. I don't think there's anything that can make me beg for death more easily (note this if you plan to torture me in the future).
~I've not murdered. I've not committed adultery. I've not stolen.
I have laughed - loudly and mockingly - in the face of every other commandment.
~I usually cannot keep an interest in something for more than a couple of months or in someone for more than a couple of weeks.
~When I get sick or otherwise bed-ridden, I cut off all contact with friends and family, turn off my laptop, turn off my CD-player. I read books and dream dark, gothic dreams, get wild inspirations, then start thinking about self-mutilation and that's when I know it's time for me to go out again or ask a friend for company.
~Last time I peed my pants was when I was in first grade in Elementary school, because the school toilets were dirty and ghastly and I didn't want to go there.
~Ten years ago, I cursed a healthy person - three months later, they died.
~My deepest fear is that nothing will affect me deeply ever.
My second deepest fear is that everything will affect me deeply always.
And, on that philosophical note, I'm off to read some yaoi on mangafox, eat five tangerines I've just peeled *crushes peel between fingers, sniffing ecstatically* smoke a cigarette or two and go to bed...
Nighty-night, babes.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
The Kinks
--- No, not the band, the secret (or not) bedroom (or not) stuff ---
So, a few months back, I - a certified quiz whore - found this test on the net.
Here's the deal: it measures how kinky you are and places you on a spectrum band (red for prudes, ultraviolet for sluts - words used with tremendous affection, trust me). There are about 152 questions asking everything and from various points of view.
Wow. I, for one, didn't know french-kissing would constitute a kink for some.
Nor leaving the lights on. But, yeah, these are the mild ones. Brace yourselves if you're taking it.
Myself, I turned out a green, which is in the middle, having quite a few kinks (the worst, probably, being blood sucking)
but means there are some things I just would not do. For example:
I could never look at Fido or Mittens, you know, that way.
I'm sure they are lovely...ehm...creatures, but, really, no... No, Spirit the Stallion does not appeal, either. Nor Simba - look, just stop asking, please.
Golden showers and scat-play are a no, as well.
I have OCD. Trauma for life, anyone?
No threesomes.
It stands to reason, no orgies, no partner-swapping. I'm an extremely possessive bastard. My partner is mine, MINE, my own, my presiousssss. Noone else gets to touch my partner. Noone who wants to keep their hands/head/cock/tits intact. I carry blades with me at all times - just a warning...*feral growl*
No opening the door naked, no matter who I'm expecting. No posting sex tapes on youporn.
But, yeah, lots and lots and lots (and lots) of cosplay and bonds and razors and food and...you get the idea...
Oh, also, the results come divided in two columns - giving (active) and receiving (passive)... Let's just say, I'm a total seme. Yep, yep, just sit back and relax, my cute little victim. Oh, and bite this gag, love, wouldn't want to wake the neighbours with your screams...*evil purr*
Go on, take the test. You know you want to. Comment with your results if you will.
Oh, my pet was worried I'd totally give her away. I promise, sweetheart, I'm telling noone you're a red... (She took the test again five minutes ago and told me to edit: she turned out green this time, as well... *sigh* Happy now?)
Note: you can't access some pics if you don't have a deviantart account, they were blocked.
So, a few months back, I - a certified quiz whore - found this test on the net.
Here's the deal: it measures how kinky you are and places you on a spectrum band (red for prudes, ultraviolet for sluts - words used with tremendous affection, trust me). There are about 152 questions asking everything and from various points of view.
Wow. I, for one, didn't know french-kissing would constitute a kink for some.
Nor leaving the lights on. But, yeah, these are the mild ones. Brace yourselves if you're taking it.
Myself, I turned out a green, which is in the middle, having quite a few kinks (the worst, probably, being blood sucking)
but means there are some things I just would not do. For example:
I could never look at Fido or Mittens, you know, that way.
I'm sure they are lovely...ehm...creatures, but, really, no... No, Spirit the Stallion does not appeal, either. Nor Simba - look, just stop asking, please.
Golden showers and scat-play are a no, as well.
I have OCD. Trauma for life, anyone?
No threesomes.
It stands to reason, no orgies, no partner-swapping. I'm an extremely possessive bastard. My partner is mine, MINE, my own, my presiousssss. Noone else gets to touch my partner. Noone who wants to keep their hands/head/cock/tits intact. I carry blades with me at all times - just a warning...*feral growl*
No opening the door naked, no matter who I'm expecting. No posting sex tapes on youporn.
But, yeah, lots and lots and lots (and lots) of cosplay and bonds and razors and food and...you get the idea...
Oh, also, the results come divided in two columns - giving (active) and receiving (passive)... Let's just say, I'm a total seme. Yep, yep, just sit back and relax, my cute little victim. Oh, and bite this gag, love, wouldn't want to wake the neighbours with your screams...*evil purr*
Go on, take the test. You know you want to. Comment with your results if you will.
Oh, my pet was worried I'd totally give her away. I promise, sweetheart, I'm telling noone you're a red... (She took the test again five minutes ago and told me to edit: she turned out green this time, as well... *sigh* Happy now?)
Note: you can't access some pics if you don't have a deviantart account, they were blocked.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Autumn cleaning tales: the bathroom
Seeing as my best mate is coming over in the next few days (and it'll be the first time he visits) my home-owner instincts kicked in, along with a little OCD crisis, and I decided on a little autumn cleaning.
I started today, with the bathroom. In the space of one morning that proved necessary for cleaning the damned thing to my satisfaction (which means you can eat soup off the floor now *coughs from noxious-cleaning-products-fumes poisoning*) I dug up/threw away the following items:
----Note: no, I'm not a dirty bugger. I simply haven't cleaned thoroughly all summer... I just can't stand the heat, okay?!----
1) A glass ashtray with growing yellow-grey muck, half-filled with dull water and floating ashes. Ah! So that's where you were!
*tapping cigarette ash in random teacup*
2) Katie's old toothbrush, from her visits a year ago.
3) Small, pink, spray bottle smelling suspiciously of strong alcohol - what the fuck?!
4) Bottle of congealed black nail varnish (Goths rule, man)
5) Set of make-up brushes, kept for Katie, but she always comes with her own make-up bag, which is the size of a medium backpack, anyway.
6) Bath salts my mom gave me. I shower. They smelled of sickly-sweet, old woman's perfume - end of story.
7) 2 almost empty bottles of conditioner... I have long hair. It's flyaway. It needs conditioning or I get these really nasty split ends... Er...
8) Nearly full bottle of body oil I proved allergic to - about a year ago. Why I kept it is a mystery... Yeah, body oil, that's what I said... get your mind out of the gutter, will you?
So, now, I'm in a cleaning frenzy. Everything must go. If something has not been used for the past year, tops, I'm kicking it the fuck out of my house.
*eyeing laptop* Nah, I use that all the time...
*eyeing stove* Nah, that one too...
*eyeing carpet* Hmmm!..
I started today, with the bathroom. In the space of one morning that proved necessary for cleaning the damned thing to my satisfaction (which means you can eat soup off the floor now *coughs from noxious-cleaning-products-fumes poisoning*) I dug up/threw away the following items:
----Note: no, I'm not a dirty bugger. I simply haven't cleaned thoroughly all summer... I just can't stand the heat, okay?!----
1) A glass ashtray with growing yellow-grey muck, half-filled with dull water and floating ashes. Ah! So that's where you were!
*tapping cigarette ash in random teacup*
2) Katie's old toothbrush, from her visits a year ago.
3) Small, pink, spray bottle smelling suspiciously of strong alcohol - what the fuck?!
4) Bottle of congealed black nail varnish (Goths rule, man)
5) Set of make-up brushes, kept for Katie, but she always comes with her own make-up bag, which is the size of a medium backpack, anyway.
6) Bath salts my mom gave me. I shower. They smelled of sickly-sweet, old woman's perfume - end of story.
7) 2 almost empty bottles of conditioner... I have long hair. It's flyaway. It needs conditioning or I get these really nasty split ends... Er...
8) Nearly full bottle of body oil I proved allergic to - about a year ago. Why I kept it is a mystery... Yeah, body oil, that's what I said... get your mind out of the gutter, will you?
So, now, I'm in a cleaning frenzy. Everything must go. If something has not been used for the past year, tops, I'm kicking it the fuck out of my house.
*eyeing laptop* Nah, I use that all the time...
*eyeing stove* Nah, that one too...
*eyeing carpet* Hmmm!..
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