Isle of Skye

Yeah, I constantly want to be motivated and alive and feeling things. It makes me get angry. I was at the bank, waiting in line, and by mistake I bumped my Sainsbury's bag into the man before me. He gave me one of those wicked glares and then moved literally 5 yards away from me, even after I said sorry. I muttered "Well, I hope that's enough space for you". I felt like swearing at the git. FUCKWAD! All these fucking white people who are so STUPID on top of everything. Not because they are white, but because they are plebs....and me, I've not even been to public school! God - anyway. Not a very good day for me, I suppose. Ate 5 packs of crisps and they weren't even that good. Sainsbury's Basics brand. I won't be cooking, looks like it.

...all this time, it was my greatest defense mechanism. Stronger than laughter, more reliable than forgetting. Trying to be real and facing reality is really not what it's all cracked up to be. I don't like people in the real world; even if I were to meet Richard Armitage or Julian Rhind-Tutt in real life, it would be CRAP. I never thought of myself as an Anne Shirley type, but even though I am not as exuberant, and I have a sneaking suspicion she's more an ENFP, I realise what a life-saver it has been. All those crappy movie lines and songs and fake concerts I have been to allowed me to dress up and imagine myself away. Why on earth else would I invent a pseudonym such as Skye Jacques? It no longer has any sanity saving devices left in it but I refuse to give it up for my real name. But living in a fantasy world never let anyone earn a living (unless you act or write) - neither of which I see happening. I just see myself doing anything of any consequence here. Here, as in ...

I just managed to get to Oxfam and enjoy it today. I am to go Wednesday morning and Thursday afternoon. God knows how these moods work. Something that had occurred to me a few months ago is actually supported by research. People with INFP have a higher propensity for depression. Go figure. I knew that it would come up like that. So apathetic I am. Nothing seems to matter to me much anymore. God knows why. I should be finding out what matters to me and going for it. Been listening to loads of good music, which has improved my moods a little. So much talent in the world. Literature and music and drama and comedy and all of it. Such beauty and energy. And I am not a part of it. I can't create. All I can do is crib. When I walk, it's always eyes to the ground. I was shocked to see two blokes barely three feet away from me before I even noticed their presence. Last week of mine was completely wasted. In front of the 'TV' watching sitcoms and North and South (not 'really...

Me, I get all pragmatic about life, saying that art is a flimsy waste of time, aimed at taking us away from the realities of life. Now that, to a large extent is true, at least as far as my understanding is of the purpose of us being here on Earth. However, I love the BBC drama North and South and have been acting like a FOOL, a crazed lunatic ever since I discovered an internet -TV website Veoh which allows me to watch it ALL OVER AGAIN especially since it was removed from Youtube . Only problem, which I have just discovered, is it doesn't pause for too long and reverts to the beginning. I can't forward it either. But it has made me hysterically happy and I have been literally jumping up and down and screaming and laughing. Unfortunately, it is half-term week and I can hear the neighbours on the other side of the wall. So basically, my reputation for being a lunatic must be iron-clad. I am no longer in control of any emotions I have. I used to think I was restrained. Perhaps ...

I said I was questing for sanity. What a load of croc. I threw hysterics yesterday and can't really remember when was the last time I did this. Screaming like I had really gone mad. No inhibitions any more. Throwing a roll of toilet paper at the door. That's a good idea, mind you. I get the satisfaction of throwing something and not breaking anything. Except I am so sure the neighbours heard me, and I think one of them had guests over. I have really gone crazy. My dad said he thinks it's black magic. And this, after I decided not to believe in it. Christ. I lost it for an entire yesterday. I don't want do these things. The last thing I want to do is this. I have become a slave to my emotions and have no idea when this happened or why... I see myself as nice. Don't we all? As not wanting to harm; yet I do. God knows why I had to break down at this point in time. At 23, when I should be living out my youth, I am stuck on a bed, unwashed hair, unbrushed teeth. Not unde...

Well, since I seem to be thinking more in depth than usual, let's ask a difficult question. Well, the question, of course, is easy enough but my ability to give an acceptable answer is nonexistent. The preamble: you are 23 years old according to the solar calendar, but 24 according to the lunar calendar and, somehow, that should be given more importance. You are a 'Female' 'Pakistani' 'British' 'Asian' with an undergraduate degree in 'English' (linguistics and Language Teaching certificate for non-English areas). You passed up a chance to earn £5,000 a year working as a library assistant, when (at this moment of writing) it seems as though you might have been able to do what was written in the JD. Especially when they were looking to specifically recruit Asians. Well, you've already passed that up. You're 'moderately depressed'. You have no faith in the NHS system, in fact you are almost entirely sure that this CBT won't w...

God knows why I have started this blog. Is it going to be any different from the rubbish that I write in my journal or on my Facebook page? Is it going to solve anything? Not really. I am glad I found my 'bunny wabbit' book i.e. Watership Down. I don't think I read it when I was in Kampala, although I know for a fact that Sarah did and she loved it. I was only nine then, so it's not as though I would have enjoyed it as much as I am now. It's good to have these innocent, childish pleasures. Though I have no clue why I am regressing back to an infant-like state, whereby I keep singing 'bunny wabbit' like a five-year old infant. Kampala. Hmm . It was lovely, what I remember of it. Very exotic and very different than the life I am suffering these days. Well, suffering is too strong a word. I am suffering myself. As in, I am being punished by having to spend my days and nights with myself. And what's worse is that I am making others suffer for it too. Thoug...