So i was wondering, what is it that any of us will be remembered for when we die? Is it the funny stuff, the nice stuff, the time we messed it up, or quite possibly the bad stuff. Do people remember us as a child, or do those memory's cease to exist, and we only remember the most recent stuff? Do people remember the life we never lived? the roads we never took, a decision we never made? or do people just sigh, pick up the pieces and try their damdest to forget, erasing every last trace of us they quite possibly can.

I don't know how i want to be remembered, whether i want to leave this world some kind of tragic hero, because even if you get the glory, when your gone , the glory doesn't go with you. I just know i want to cling on to every last moment. Because i don't want to be remembered for all the bad things. I want to stay on and fight, fight for something that doesn't mess up. Fight to be happy.

so today I made some rather fancy gluten free cupcakes. (photo stolen from my facebook) with rather yummy glittery red icing and mini marshmallows and chocolate stars! Exciting. The sponge was chocolate and vanilla, using real vanilla seeds to flavour.
(sadly only using cocoa powder for the chocolate, but at least it was bornville!) They tasted scrummyly yummy :D but im saving a few for a present for my rather lovely boyfriend.

Also today, i have shockingly spent a small fortune on ebay out of boredom, I have bought a new purse and a new handbag, both black with silver wrighting from Juicy couture. (say what you like about Juicy, but their assessories are LUSH) I bought them both as second hand so at least i didnt spend too much. Also considering buying a cute ghost bead for my pandora.

My asos clothes came, but im sadly having to send my vera moda dress back, as the cut was really wierd and made it look like i was wearing a child's night gown :( plus i refuse to buy anything in a size over a M. However the cute asos blouse and skirt looked amazing on :D

Sometimes, you just think. Yes I can write, I have a story to tell.

Admittedly it might not be a very good story, but its got all the makings of a good novel, adventure, darkness and a slightly twisted view of the past. It might sound like a pile of rambling nonsense to someone else, but they haven't lived it. They haven't experienced it.

Your not quite sure what that story is, but you pray to the god of text, that when you start writing, somehow the words will fill the page, some how your empty mind will make sence of some jumbled thoughts and put them into some kind of appealing way.

Some journey that you've put to the back of your mind, an illness you have, that no one quite understands, somehow it suddenly makes sense to you. Some how you suddenly understand what it means to have a mental disability, that you've spent your whole life not thinking about, not putting on job forms, keeping out of the light. Because you know people will judge you, for being a bit different.

But then you stop and think, and that paranoia sets in again, because you know it doesn't matter. Its the reason why you do a dead end job, and don't try. Because it baffles you. It confuses you when you see the people who spend their whole lives wanting to stay in their job. Their job that pays £6.03 an hour. And it confuses you, because every time you walk through those doors you switch off and daydream about being somewhere else. Anywhere else.

I'm a bit kooky, I'm a bit scatty, I cant remember yesterday, and i'm not thinking of tomorrow. Because I can't, my mind wont let me. I push my friends away, because i like being alone, I talk about things that normal women dont talk abot, and i stay in my own world because i dont want to talk about whats going through my head at any different point.

I can't cope with distractions when i start tasks. I can't work with other people. And i don't participially like small talk.

And its raining <<>>>On the long Road to something new

Sometimes there's a lot of things you haven't written about, A lot of things you cannot quite possibly put into words, Such as happiness. Am I happy, I don't know, all i know for certain is i'm not unhappy, and that's all that matters.

I don't know what happiness is, its been too long. I do however know what it feels like to be miserable. And i'm far from that. Which is a breakthrough.

Albeit I am stuffing my face full of various herbal slimming pills, and weighing myself every 30 seconds, but its not like it was before. I no longer rely on my weight to determine how i feel, and i guess that means I've come a long way.

I'm finally in a relationship that makes sense in my own mind, a relationship I chose to be in, and, I think the road is starting to look less long.

So i'm good. But it's still raining outside.

But do you know what? I finally am not going to let it in.

thinking about an ex in a dark way?

i used to write music, and i used to be pretty damn good at it, but sometimes when you finally have something to write about you can't any more. You can't even think about the things your not writing about. You cant even close your eyes because it finally reminds you of the life you have led, you start to hate and start to loose pity, but its all pointless because you realise, and this is the biggest lesson that i have ever had to learn in adulthood, infact even in childhood . ''you can't make everyone love you'' and its so true , as its one thing you have to learn. Sometimes relationships break up, and you feel angry, but you can't go forcing something if its just not right. In my experience theres always some nagging feeling in the back of your mind, that something isn't right. The second you feel that , you cant see the world the same ever again. Because you know, you know that its over and nothings going to be right until youve left. I wont lie, sometimes i do think back, but all i cnan see is pity and hate, pity at myself for not seeing it sooner, and hatred towards a man that broke my heart.

so how do you got over this feeling? well for me i started by fantasising about them dying, about them getting run over, getting killed by having a house dropped on them. but then you start to realise , you dont really want them to die, you just can't bear for them to be happy again, you cant bear to see the look on their face, that smug happy look, so you come up with plans to wipe their face off, then suddenly you just stop, you meet someone new and then all those feelings dissapear, i mean i wont lie, you still plan to punch them, but you never would, because you dont CARE , and thats the important break through

Facination, obsession with killing someone/making them pay, is just a back of the mind thing. its a dark hobbie that helps you grieve for something.

meh

theres something wierd about sitting here watching very badly designed us drama seris es waiting to pass out at my pc, why am i doing this? i don't know. I'm 19 now and i'm starting to realise the truly nothingness that is the point of creation, it seems to be a pointless 9 to 5 job for as long as you can bear, then urgh nothing.
I suppose its better than the people who believe a job is benieth them, those who complain but never change.

I'd almost forgotton that this blog existed, ok so i admit it i have totally forgot up to this very second when i wanted to create a fashion blog , because for some reason the idea of posting an outfit every day intregues me for some reason. I guess i am a fashion girlie at heart, even though i guess i dont show it much.

I have another b12 injection today at 3, this is my second one , and i have to have them forever , urgh. but i guess im glad that its going to make me feel better, anything is an improvement to what im feeling at the moment.