Thing

I don't know.

I hate everything, I hate these kids television shows, they make me anxious. I hate hearing, my ears hurt. I hate this feeling, the floor is irritating. I hate fucking everything, I hate it.

You know whats fucked, when your own mother tells you that shes better off without me, that I should do her a favor and just kill myself, she doesn't know that I think the same thing, she doesn't know how much I have wanted to just end my life, I don't give a fuck, I hate being alone, because I never am. I'm here with my messed up head, my thoughts telling me to go cut myself, go take that bottle of pills, just fucking do it. I hate being alone, and here I am, alone in a house full of sharp objects and pills, so many fucking opportunities.

What hurts me the most is that she can fucking do it, she can feel this way, think this way and act this way and act like shes the only one. She can overdose on her pills and then expect everyone to treat her differently because it doesn't happen to anyone else, I'm fucking sick of it, the only reason I don't is because of her, and then she shoves that fucking "I'm not well" shit in my face which makes me want to do it even more, maybe if she saw that I'm not well, maybe if she saw me in the mental house instead of her she would understand, is that what it will take to make her understand, do I have to snap and go overboard for her to understand?

Who the fuck says that to their child, what fucked up being would tell their child to go kill themselves.

Were not meant to be like this, humans, how could people have been so stupid as to evolve and progress, how damn foolish. All I want to do is live, but this is not living, the fuck is this, its a laptop, why do I need this, I don't need the Internet, I don't need a fucking couch or television, we don't need this, we don't need education, we don't need government, we don't need anything. Humans have fucked themselves over, sadness is an illness spawned from humans greed and idiocracy to want more.

I really need to get out, go far away. I'm beginning to think I may be the catalyst in these situations, it happened at dads. He kicked me out, now mum wants to, mum hates me, she absolutely hates me, she wants me fucking dead. Is it my lack of sharing, is it that I cant tell people that I am unwell, that I'm having these thoughts, and it leads to them not understanding why I act the way I do. I cant tell them though, what would they do, mum would laugh, act like my life is so perfect compared to hers, I hate how she fucking compares, or would she break down and think that its all her fault, she'd take another bottle and go bye bye.

Damaged Petals

I'd like to tell Dean everything, about Isaac, about mum, I don't know how he'd react, might be too much for him, might make him understand a few things, he might not care, he'll probably just act how he usually does, I worry too much about how people will react to things rather then actually doing it and then facing the reaction unprepared. The other night when mum threatened me with a knife, it wasn't even the worst welcome home I've had, It's stupid that I can't even find the courage to tell a heap of random people I have never met. When I was twelve Isaac attempted suicide, I was the one that found him in a puddle of his own blood on the bathroom floor with knife cuts all across his arm, that was a nice welcome home. To top that, later that year coming home with Isaac, mum was nowhere to be found, finally we went in her room to find her face down on her bed with empty pill boxes next to her, we managed to get her on the floor and while Isaac called the ambulance I had to stick my fingers down her mouth to make her vomit up the pills and scrape them out of her mouth, fucking great welcome home for a twelve year old. My childhood hasn't been the easiest nor has it been the hardest, crying myself to sleep most nights, trying to forget everything, praying to god that one day it will all stop, it's finally stopped now, but things are still not good. How can I be expected to be normal after going through that, and mum has the nerve to tell me that I've had a great life, that I've had Christmases and presents all the time, well if you make a cake with all the right ingredients it's a good cake, but if you throw a knife and some pills in that cake it's gonna turn out pretty damn bad. It's understandable, when Tupac said not to blame the rose that grew from concrete for it's damaged petals, it's not exactly easy to turn out good when you've been through so much bad.

Much ado about everything

Everything is just fine, like why am I here, I don't want to be here, why cant I move from here, why am I so afraid to pack my shit and leave. Who wants me here, more so who needs me here, less so who cares if I'm here. Why bother, everything blows up in my face.

I can't say that I have had the worst dealt to me, but you'd think that your own mother coming at you with a knife would be pretty bad. Shes already damaged me, a knife could only heal what I've seen, as she came at me in my head all I could think was 'do it, please just do it' I just cant take that shit anymore, I don't want to die, but I don't want to be here.

Procrastination

So I'm sitting in the school library during my double free period this morning, and nothing seams to be bothering me, I have nothing on my mind beside the constant thought "think of something to do" while I observe my surroundings and make note of the people and objects that I could interact with. It's funny, to think of thinking of doing something, it's a waste of thought, procrastination at it's best, let's not do anything and sit here thinking of thinking of something to do. Even better procrastination is that I am sitting here blogging about me thinking about thinking of doing something. What's worse is that I am telling you about my procrastinating when you are already aware that I am procrastinating, ha, I am a success, that took up about five minutes of my sitting around doing nothing time. In one context it may be that my success is a failure because I wasted five minutes on typing about my procrastination, but in my context my failure is my success because my procrastinating has taken me from the thinking stage of doing something and finally put it into action, now that you are all aware that my procrastination is my motivation to do something, we can lay back for a second and admire the blissful truth in the ironic paradox that motivation comes from procrastination, my mother would be so proud.

This is what I do when I am put in a position where I don't want to interact with my environment, I think to myself and discuss among my thoughts about certain situations I may find myself in and how I should resolve a crisis that could emerge in that situation. My favorite situation to situate myself in is ridding on a bus, so many things could happen on a bus, so many that I have thought of and an infinite that I haven't. I like to think about what I would do if the bus tipped, a fight broke out, the bus driver had a heart attack, the person behind me steels my bag, the person next to me pulls out a gun, we drive off a bridge and the bus fills up with water, stuff like that, how would I react if the situation ever happened, the only thing is that the things I situate myself in rarely happen so I am left unprepared, but I suppose everyone in life is unprepared, no one knows what will happen next, we make plans for the future, but the future does not live by our plans, for all I know the school could burn down within the hour, that ruins my plans to pick Dean up from work this afternoon, nothing in life is certain. Now my day dreams of fantasy situations seam somewhat useless, but that couldn't be any further from the truth, what else am I supposed to do while I sit here in solitude, these thoughts keep me sane, they keep me procrastinated from interaction with the environment around me, thus leads to my motivation to act in my own interest, in other words, blog.

Well I have procrastinated enough, it is about time I reemerge from my hermit state and grasp with reality once more, much love, iBen.

Bad Day -_-

I'm hungry, I'm pissed off and I'm tired. I'm sore, I'm wrong, I'm selfish and I'm a prick. I'm annoyed, I'm confused and I've just had enough. You can't change people so why does she expect me to change for her, I'm just not good enough for her way of life, the only solution is getting out. Instead of yelling at me an expecting results she should at least help me be independent so that I can move out and do us both a huge favor.

I'm tired, I do not want to be here, I just want to get to my bed and rest, I just want to close my eyes and sleep for a while. Would I still take the red pill, the ignorance could be so blissful from the truth, but the truth could set me free from the lifestyle that I share. I'm sick of taking pills, but I'll be sick from not taking pills, I hate these decisions.

Religion doesn't answer my questions, I pray that it will answer yours.

I Want Short Breaths

Lyrics from Crimewave - Crystal Castles, why, because nothing they say is straight forward, it's conceptual lyrics, you've got to think about how things relate in certain contexts. It has been three months since my first date with Dean, back then it was only a dream to wake up and have him lying next to me, now its a reality. What I need right now is to take a look at the hurdles that lie ahead of me that if i don't overcome now, they will become barriers, barricading me from reaching my full potential.

1. Isaac
2. My mother
3. My health
4. This couch

Well firstly the problem with my brother is that he is a prick, I suppose its not entirely his fault for how he turned out but that's another story and its his choice to continue to act the way he does and do nothing about changing it. The problem is that he and I don't and wont get along for some time until he changes, so I have to have little interaction with him, hopefully it will get through to him that the way that he acts is tearing this family apart. Worst part though is the memories, of him at his worst, the people he hurt and how he made me feel helpless and hopeless. When I saw a situation that involved an older sibling being verbally abusive, the catalyst in the negative environment, it reminded me of how Isaac would lash out, hit mum, hit me and make me feel like there was nothing I could do to help the people I love, I got scared and anxious, its just the memories make me feel useless and weak. I don't know how to resolve this problem, I have tried extending my help to the victim, someone important to me, but maybe the situation isn't as bad as it seams to be for me and they can deal with it easily. I guess this problem is probably best resolved with my shrink =S

The mother! dum dum duuum. That was my lame attempt of intensifying the situation.. don't judge me.. okay you can judge me. As much as I love my mother, she drives me crazy, I never know what she is going to do or want next. She'll get me to drive her around then tell me to stop using so much petrol, she'll have a go at me for crashing my car and then without warning buy me another car, she'll tell me to stop spending so much money (okay so i spend about 150 max a week) then she goes and buys a $2500 3D Plasma television. That stuff I can deal with I suppose, shes going through menopause and is hormonal as hell, and I guess I'm the only one around to take her frustrations out on, still its not fair that I get yelled at and told off when I am the only one of her children that actually does things for her. What makes it worse is when she gets hypocritical, such as 'Ben you didn't wash the frying pan' when the sink is full of dirty dishes built up over the past days that I haven't even been there. I am happy to clean up my mess and look after myself, I can do work for two people but why should I when she yells and hurls abuse at me, if she asked nicely and thanked me for completing tasks shes asked me to do then it would be progressive towards the next time she asks me to do something. My only solution for this is to move out, but I suppose I can't do that for another 3 months minimum.

My health isn't that bad of a problem as it used to be, since I have been with Dean I have started eating different things, and I have had a positive outlook on my future health. I want to be fit and healthy, my small steps are slowly adding up and I already feel more motivated then before. Swimming, small home work outs, hopefully more tennis with Dean and slowly but surely I'll get there.

Finally this couch, well Dean is coming over tonight and that is more then enough motivation to get off my ass and get over there to pick him up, so I end this blog on a positive note, and here's my words of advice for the day, 'stay in school and stay away from drugs.'

He was only thirteen

It was taken from him before he was even given it. I apologize