Where do I go?

I hate it at home. It's dirty, chaotic, lonely and everyday it's only a matter of time before I melt down in tears over ridiculous things.
School is only once a week anymore and I don't know the majority of people there and my best friend there is leaving anyways.
I hate being with my mum, and there's no life for me there.
My brother offered to share his place with me but what can I do in Israel?
A psychiatric institution is out of the question.
I can't hang around my friends' place all the time.
I have nowhere to feel home anymore. I'm only going from one random, meaningless place to another. Some places suck worse than others but none is home.

Nathalie Merchant - My Skin

Find the song here

Take a look at my body
Look at my hands
There's so much here
That I don't understand

Your face saving promises
Whispered like prayers
I don't need them
I don't need them

I've been treated so wrong
I've been treated so long
As if I'm becoming untouchable

Contempt loves the silence
It thrives in the dark
With fine winding tendrils
That strangle the heart

They say that promises
Sweeten the blow
But I don't need them
No, I don't need them

I've been treated so wrong
I've been treated so long
As if I'm becoming untouchable

I'm a slow dying flower
Frost killing hour
The sweet turning sour
And untouchable

O, I need
The darkness
The sweetness
The sadness
The weakness
I need this

I need
A lullaby
A kiss goodnight
Angel sweet
Love of my life
O, I need this

Do you remember the way
That you touched me before
All the trembling sweetness
I loved and adored?

Your face saving promises
Whispered like prayers
I don't need them
No, I don't need them

O, I need
The darkness
The sweetness
The sadness
The weakness
I need this

I need
A lullaby
A kiss goodnight
The angel sweet
Love of my life
I need this

Is it dark enough?
Can you see me?
Do you want me?
Can you reach me?
Or I'm leaving

You better shut your mouth
Hold your breath
Kiss me now you'll catch my death
O, I mean it

Hospital again

Felt a crisis coming again so I went to the psychiatric emergency station of a city hospital. After 3 or 4 hours of waiting, all they gave me was half a fucking Xanax. I explicitely asked for pillS (<-- note the plural) to help me survive the coming DAYS and that bitch gave me one half Xanax. And ofcourse I had to pay myself a taxi home. Fuck emergency services, they totally play with your balls.

Drawing

I'm so fucking tired of my so-called friends who drag me along to hang out and then just park me on the couch to forget all about me. The only thing that I EVER got positive attention for, are my artistic skills, especially drawing. I'm that chick who draws well. That's all people have ever appreciated about me. If it weren't for my drawings, nobody'd ever talked to me in the first place. I hate it. Drawing's become the one thing that makes the world give a damn about me. That's why it started in the first place. As a child, I was already lonely so I made up imaginary friends and drew them. Drew imaginary adventures with imaginary friends and what I drew happened to be above average in quality so people noticed me for the first fucking time and praised the living bajeezus outta me. I mean, when I wasn't being praised and cuddled for my drawing skills, I was getting yelled up and/or beat up for my existance. I mean, ugly fat kid mustn't exist, world keeps proving that to me even now. As long as I produced nice drawings, I was safe, people liked me. But drawing is something I do best when I'm undisturbed (though among people who peek over my shoulder; love the silent attention), so the vicious circle started. In order to have my existance appreciated, I had to draw. But in order to do that, I had to be alone. And that wasn't so hard to accomplish, ugly fat girls are usually alone. And that's how ugly fat girl got better and better at drawing: Having lots and lots of time alone, undisturbed, unnoticed, unappreciated. That's how you get good at this kind of things. By having lots of alone-time. Of course, encounters with people who were as good as or even better than me, were catastrophic. They were a threat to my very existance or at least, to the world taking notice of it. So the pressre I was constantly under, was enormous. And while I was frantically working on improving my skills, I grew to HATE drawing. My mental aversion to drawing at one hand getting me attention and at the other hand stealing it from me, became physical and I had back- and headaches, my wrist would suddenly hurt and I could no longer take the smell of pencils. The dilemma and a vast mental emptiness started at that point. I no longer enjoyed drawing because I'd suddenly realized that all the time, it had only been a way to have my existance noticed in a positive way. But it has also become my only real hobby. But now that I no longer enjoy drawing, now that I no longer feel inspiration and accomplishment now that the truth has come to me, what do I do? What can I kill my abundant alone-time with? There's nothing I enjoy doing. And how can I now get appreciation, now that I can no longer hold a pencil for more than 10 minutes without feeling that immense hate and despair rising inside? What now? More boring alone-time. More binge eating. More being fat and ugly and nothing else because the "drawing" is gone. The only thing people appreciate me for, has gone from me and I hate it for leaving me but at the same time, I hate the thought of picking up the pencil. I want to all the time but I know I wouldn't enjoy it. I'd love to draw comics, but as soon as I start, the mental hate of drawing turns into aggression and panic attacks, physical pain sets in that artists usually feel after HOURS of hard work, but not after a few strokes; I have to stop for it'd break me, but when I stop, I have nothing left to do with myself.

I hate this gift.

Missing

Can't stop those feelings of feeling abandoned, lonely, hated,
redundant, like the world doesn't want me. I love my friends and I know
they kinda love me back but I just can't help but feel alone and unloved.
It's nobody's fault.

Just fuck you, I hope you die

I just burnt up all my friends' photos. Now my snot is black from the smoke. Funny. And I just realize I forgot a few. Whatever. Because like, one day they promise you to take some time and talk things out because you've only just been hospitalized for a suicide attempt, then at the table they forget all about your presence. Like, I'm sick of that. I hate people who pretend to care and when the time to care for real comes, they're busy mocking seniors and talking politics.

FUCK YOU.

My weekend was okay

Just back from my friend Cathy's. Last night we went out drinking. Didn't mention my problems to her, we just got drunk together. We wanted to get a man-whore from the red-light-district but didn't find it and I was like dying from that cocktail. Called Car Crash. Rightly so. Gin, Rum, Vodka, cointreau and champagne. What a fucking cocktail, how can that be legal... damn... And she sent text messages to my friends from my phone lol... wtf did she tell them making it loook like it was me... Lol I love such things. It's funny. Stan called me about it and asked if I was okay. I'm not fucking okay but it's sweet he called. Nobody does that usually.

Miracle Cure (Blank & Jones)

What can I do?
Where I can I hide?
Who can I back?
Who's gonna lie?
Who can I trust?
Who's gonna try?
Who's gonna stay with me tonight?
Who's gonna stay in by my side and when I'm feeling paranoid?
Who's gonna fill this empty void?

Typical thoughts of a borderliner who's home alone.

Charcoal is eeeeeeeeew

Been to the hospital last night and it's all my mother's fault for a) giving birth to me, b) raising me in an environment that could only break me and c) giving the that annoying shit on the phone:
"How can people like you when you don't like yourself?"
Yeah right. That statement is incorrect. It must be:
"How can I like myself when everybody constantly reminds me that the world hates me?"

So her stupid talk pissed me off, I wrecked a few things, everythings full of broken glass here, and I got pissed off and took 1200 mg Phenobarbital with half a bottle of 18% Pisang. I was like "That's what you get for reminding me of how bad my life is". But unfortunately I rememberd I hadn't yet sent instructions for taking care of my pets to my non-existant person of trust so I called an ambulance. How embarrassing, all because of my mother and the life she put me through, I had to call for help. It was so humiliating, they had their siren on. The guy in the back who talked to me was cute though. Not the smartest but cute. But them those barbiturates work slowly. By the time I became a LITTLE dizzy, they were already making me drink "activated charcoal". A black, thick "beverage" that works like a magnet to all sorts of toxins.
I was a green patient so there was no urgency in treating me. Which meant hours of waiting, connected to a fuse and some monitor. unable to reach for my backpack and my books. I had Wetlands by Charlotte Roche with me, about a girl in hospital who's had her anus operated on. I had my backpack with me because I was assuming I had to stay for the night. And I was able to pack it because those fucking Phenobarbital things don't work as fast as they should. Do you think I'd call an ambulance to my doorstep? No, I walked a few hundred meters to meet them at a bus stop. I don't want neighbours peeping.

I had a dream about my school friends inviting my other friend Cathy to a party of their film workshop group. She told me about it and turns out, I wasn't invited. That was when I woke up. It's so typical. Just leave Ugly out of things, she'll ruin the fun and all group pics with her ugliness. Yeah, just leave me out.

I'm so annoyed at everyone saying "You're not ugly, the reason why you got no boyfriend is your character/because you don't love yourself". Bullshit. There's nothing wrong with my character, at least I don't show it. Not until recently but I have NEVER had a boyfriend, and will never have. And that's not because of my character. I have a great sense of humor, I'm intelligent above average, I'm devoted and helpful, I'm loving, I'm loyal, there's nothing wrong. It has to be my monstrous looks, what the fuck else? I wish people could stop with those lies. It IS my looks, I AM the ugliest piece of inferior shit in every class I go to.
And the doctor said that beautiful girls, too have issues. I don't think so. I see nothing wrong with the pretty girls in my class. They are slim, they have boyfriends, they are photogenic. What more does one need?

And my so-called best friend who said he would be there for me? Fuck him. I'd love to kill myself in front of his eyes just to enjoy the face he'd make. I mean, he said he'd prefer me crying in his shoulder rather than me posting weird messages on Facebook. So why was I left all alone and ignored Wednesday night when I was feeling scared and suicidal and when I carved things into my arm? Even days later he wouldn't bother even sending a text message. That's the kind of friend he is. As long as I'm being convenient we're good. If it were the other way around, I'd be there for him. But no, nobody's ever there for the ugly bitch with the fat cellulite ass, the masculine body hair, the bad teeth, the eye rings, the old wrinkly hands and the strong chin. Ugly people don't get affection. Especially not when they're about to kill themselves, because that's what everyone wants to happen. Or at least, that's what my so-called friends' behavior hints me. I want to get away from him, have him erased from my memory. He's nice, sweet, lovable, nothing wrong except that he drops me when I become "heavy". I don't want friends who only appreciate me when I'm being convenient, I need people who are there for me when I'm sitting in a corner scared of myself because those pills and razor blades are only 2 steps away. If I'm too much for him, why won't he say so and let me move on and find a new/better friend? Why does he keep my around at all? I don't want to be kept around by people who only love me when my mood is nice.

While I was waiting for the ambulance, while I was sitting at the hospital and while I had a taxi drive me home for vast amounts of money, the only thought running through my head was: I should have taken all 100 pills, emptied the whole bottle of alcohol, slit my wrists, go out into the cold dark night where nobody finds me and die for real. Still thinking that. I mean who'd miss the ugly shit?

Sand is overrated

Annoying stalker is back. She just doesn't understand when I delete her from all my social networks and contact lists. She's a good person but I just don't like people clinging to me unless I really, really love them. So no, I am not gonna accept her new friend request.

Watching "Eternal Sunshine of the spotless Mind". Into it 3 minutes and I already love this movie.

It sucks, I joined a dating site for serious relation ship searchers and everytime someone's interested in me, I retreat into my stupid little self. He's a nice interesting guy and we had a nice chat until he offered to buy me a drink. That was when I wanted to either die or go up in smoke, just as long as I and my conscious would vanish.

About niggers

I don't hate black people. I only hate people who behave in an annoying way. And black males age 18 and up, strangely do so alot around me, so I hate most black males from the moment they make eye contact with me.
You'll never hear me complain about black women or kids but the males just piss me off. They must leave me alone. Do I talk to strangers? Do I ask people I barely know for their number? Where they live? Whether they're in a relationship? Do I? No. Because it's gross. Anyone who does that is disgusting and must get out of my face.

About out of my face: Finally that annyoing schizo bitch from 24 killed herself. It wasn't fair, she was like me but at least she was pretty = cared for. That's not fair so I'm glad she died in pain.

So bored

I'm so fucking bored I'd kill myself just for the fun of landing in a hospital being asked strange question by strange people but the problem is, how to get to a hospital? Nobody cares about me remotely enough to be worried and call an ambulance and it's a bit stupid to go there by myself by bus, with my wrists open, like "Hi, I tried to kill myself, can I have a room please?".
No school, nothing to do, stupid fucking village, no money, bad weather, all the chaos here, it sucks. I don't see how others get everything they (don't even need to) wish for, just naturally, and I don't get shit. All I ever get to do is sit in front of the TV and eat. I'm not allowed to enjoy life any more than that. It's not fair and I'm not taking it much longer. I am the ONLY person in this world that I know of, who's ugly, lonely, hated, ignored and has no succes at anything. All I do is attract niggers.
Just kicked my mother off my MSN. It annoys me so bad that she keeps commenting on my status there. It's none of her fucking business what I write behind my MSN name. I don't want to answer questions that I deem redundant. You don't ask questions about personal quotes or nicknames, it's annoying. I refuse to even considering to answer questions that I don't find a convenient answer for the second I'm being asked. And why should I bother. Why should I think about an answer to the question "Why did you write ... in your MSN nickname?", "How are you?", etc? Those are stupid, annoying questions. I'm not answering them. It's like asking a director why the woman in his movie wears blue jeans. JUST BECAUSE, YOU MOTHERFUCKING PIECE OF WHORESHIT!!! How annyoing is that to have to think of WHAT to answer, HOW to answer, the TIMING of answering, the CONSEQUENCES of the answer, the LENGTH of the conversation depending on the answer, etc.? For such a stupid question? The mere idea of answering annoying questions disgusts me. Last Saturday I was fucking that annoying nigger again. Some guy named Momococo. He asked if I liked him. What an annoying question. How can I like someone who's more than 40 years old, who's annoying, who asks personal questions, who talks so softly I hardly understand him, who stays longer than he paid for, who thinks he's good enough to be my boyfriend etc.? How can I like that nigger? Absolutely unthinkable. But he dared ask tht question and it's still pissing me off and I hope he dies. He mustn't ask questions I find inconvenient to answer. My closest friends are the only ones allowed to do that. That's 2 (read: TWO) persons. Not my family (lol "family", fuck you all), not my stupid customers who can't find a woman who'd fuck them for free, not anyone. If I said no, he'd be pissed and I'd be forced to discuss with him. He's old, poor, illegal = not worth talking to. If I said yes, he'd stay and steal my invaluable time. Yes, my time is worth more than a poor old man's. He has NO legal ID papers, NO money, NO respect. I've checked his wallet when he was on the toilet. He's an illegal immigrant with no such thing as credit cards. Eeeew. Such people should die.