Anxiety

I had no other ideas when it comes to the title of this post so I decided that it would be best to keep it simple. I've got a mild anxiety, which sometimes grows to the size of a block of flats. Especially when it comes to any social interactions. Weirdly enough it usually happens when I have to message someone online.. I know it's weird but approaching somebody in person in some social situations like a party or whatever is just way easier for me. Because you can't screenshot what I say to you in person, you can repeat that to your friends but with no actual proof and sometimes I say too much. Although I come as someone who doesn't give a shit in general, duuuuudes, I care about every smallest thing ever. Especially when it comes to stuff people tell me. You'll say one thing and I'll pick it apart and think about it for months because maybe I misunderstood you and it lead me to false interpretation therefore I feel as if I had to find multiple ways of interpreting what you've said. And in this proces everything seems to be super important to me - when you said it, your tone and if you were drunk or not. Every single shit like that, every tiniest detail is so so so so so important and then after realising that actually you may hate me and by the time I finisz thinking about that I'll be pretty sure you do I'm going to spend a few days in bed swimming in the pool of anxiety I made for my self by overthinking.
Lately I haven't had a day without thinkinng about stuff and then thinking about thinking too much. Because first I want to get to the core of "what the fuck do you mean" and then I start to Wonder if there's a point in what I'm doing. No there's no point, just to get that out of the way, but I do it anyways. Even writing this post is fucking pointless because even if I publish it I'll probably delete it later since it's just an announcement saying "Look at me being a fucking mess". But if you've been here (on my blog) for a while, you know that I'm nothing else but a huge mess.
Anxiety gets worse when you suffer from mood swings as well. Just so you know. You wake up feeling fine and then someone says "hi" and you don't know if it's because you just bumped into each other or because the person just wanted to say hi and there's nothing else in it. Ugh. Or you just get mad because it's morning and you didn't drink your coffee and somebody starts talking to you, like what the actual fuck man? Are you a psycho? Don't talk to me before I drink my coffee, alright?
Thanks anxiety for ruining and ruling my life.

Writing influenced by the music

During my writing sessions, our lecturer comes up with various ideas to make us write something completely out of our comfort zone, something new, experimental and fun. A few weeks ago we were talking about music in writing, how it can influence the way we write and what do we write about. So our writing session ended up with listening to different songs while writing.
That's the piece I wrote that day influenced by Jay-Z 99 Problems, Dolly Parton Train Train, Mozart Prelude in C minor, BANKS Underdog, Taylor Swift (whatever stuff that was, I don't even care), Hole Violet. Eeeeennnnjjjjoooooyyyy.

No such thing can be explained easily. They'd be better off without, he was more than sure about that. Strange voices in his head were not even similar to his. The sound was so unfamiliar and irritating. 
She, on the other hand, was sure that it was a great idea. Leaving the city with a few dollars in her pocket, enough for gas expenses but not that much to be able to afford even one night in a motel.
Her mother wept and sobbed up till she drowned in her own sorrows. Her only daughter left with no goodbyes and no excuses were made for this horrible behavior. How one can leave the sick mother to die on her own. The body was found in the nightgown wet with tears, splattered with blood as she coughed the red liquid with her every word. Or was that just ketchup stains from her morning sandwich? I guess we'll never know, though we already know more than the daughter. We know that the mother is certainly dead. 
He was supposed to be happy. In the back of her car, looking for a map and a penny or two, just enough to buy bagels on the road. But it was nothing as he imagined it to be. Her voice squeaky, sick with excitement which he just couldn't handle.
If he kills himself that would rather be a mercy more than anything else. 
But he kept smiling and trying to enjoy their own little journey. They had no idea where they'd end up. But at least he could finally sing along to one song on repeat and eat bagels for dinner and stay up till 4 am. He was free but felt as if imprisoned. 


Why u do me lik dis internet? Seriously, guys. Chrome is fucking with me lately turning itself off while I'm in the middle of writing a huge ass post. I don't even remember what I was going on about in this paragraph. Feel my frustration guys by enhanced bad gramma and fcked up spellinzzzzzzzz. But anyways. Back to the important stuff. After writing short thingies to different types of music we were supposed to pick our favorite one and elaborate it. Sooooo there you goooo:

She, on the other hand, was sure that it was a great idea. Leaving the city with a few dollars in her pocket, enough for gas expenses but not that much to be able to afford even one night in a motel. This was her own, personal journey and money can't help if the aim is to find out who you really are - at least that was her opinion. With one bag filled with clothes and sanitary stuff and the other two packed with food, she was ready to embark on her great journey. All alone. Just her, her thoughts and her favorite CD playing the same five songs on repeat. And a map, obviously, although she has never learned how to read a map, it seemed right to take one. Car keys, checked, gas money, checked, map, checked, food, checked, another bag, checked, glasses, checked, license... Oh yeah. Driving license. She didn't really want to leave that particular day. And yes, she did remember that one needs a driving license to drive a car, or at least one needs to know how to drive a car. But who said you can't plan ahead? She'll get back to it when she is 16. Right after getting the license.

Morning with mood swings

It's almost the end of the first term and I'm stressed. I'm stressed all the time, I stress about everything. My job, my coursework, my social life, my lack of sleep and proper eating habits. I'm a huge mush of stress and because of that, my mood swings tend to be much more intense than usual. Good thing that I don't tend to get angry or super fucking sad in front of people, not even friends. My breakdowns usually happen when I'm all alone in my room. I prefer it that way since then I don't need to explain anything. I don't usually even know how to explain what's going on in my mind. That's just the way it is. The smallest thing may trigger something, it kinda works like an avalanche. Most of the times it's not even the fact that somebody said something and I didn't like it. Usually, it's about the mess in my room, the temperature outside, the shape of my face in my glasses, quality of paper on which I printed something. It's ridiculous. I'm fully aware of that. Thanks to being aware of such things I know sometimes how to control myself. It's rare but, trust me, I'm doing my best not to start crying in the library or not to kick the fucking printer. That kind of intrusive thoughts makes me wonder if I'm even close to being a normal human being. If maybe there's something I can do about it but I never did and now I'll be stuck in this swing forever. You can't even assume when you'll start feeling like shit. Sometimes you can't even recognize the feeling you currently deal with. Am I angry? Sad? Ecstatic? Terrified? Aaaaa, how the fuck do I know?
But yeah, I'm stressing over the tiniest shit lately. I don't know why.