Everyone’s spoken problems are floating around our heads, and they’re giving me a headache

In my life, there are many things which succeed in puzzling me, and I somehow manage to fail figuring out why they puzzle me, or why they are, the way they are.

I feel like most humans are just a tad bit attention seeking, desperate for a reaction from anyone about their problems. Now, don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against people’s problems or people having problems. I’m not one who thinks that everyone is petty and that they should get a grip and deal with it (well sometimes I do but anyway…). No. I know everyone goes through struggles daily in their lives, and that the struggle is a part of life. All I fail to see is why brag and put it out there for everyone to know? Why talk about it constantly till the person listening feels like the next time they hear it, they’ll want to either punch you square in the face, or go jump off something? Yes, it may make you feel better, but to the person who’s being given the information, all they are thinking is, um… Why are you telling me this? Why do I need to know this? And if you’re talking constantly, then the person listening starts to feel as if you’re not showing off, but you’re wanting everyone to know that you are I don’t know depressed, or that you take a certain medication or something etc. And, why would you want everyone to know? Why put it out there?

I think that it wouldn’t hurt for everyone to know how to categorise their problems.

Number one: okay that’s a problem, but it’s too personal for me to talk about and I should keep it to myself because I don’t know how the other person may take it.

Number two: okay, I’m not sure if I should classify this as a “problem” or is something that is just a tiny bit hard for me?

Number three: okay, I know that there is only one person I can trust to tell, and it will make me feel better telling them without just going and making it public and I don’t have to keep on repeating it once I’ve said it.

I feel as if people do it to become more popular and known. This, I find rather stupid. You would put your problems out there in the world, so that a handful of more people know who you are? Pathetic. Pathetic, and also rather desperate and impetuous.

I think if we all just kept to ourselves people like me would be able to put up more often with other people. Now, I think people talk too much, and frankly I don’t give a shit, so I actually detest talking to anyone. Hence, the reason I prefer my own company, away from everyone’s problems except my own (which is how it should be anyway) and I steer away from socialising whatsoever.

I find interacting with people, draining and by the end of it I have no energy left in my body, my head is pounding as if someone’s playing drums inside it and I’m feeling so irritated that I just snap suddenly. And can I just say this feeling isn’t nice at all. Oh no. It feels horrible.  What also doesn’t feel so dandy is how people see me because of my um… let’s call it lacking social skills. I come off as distant and cold because I don’t want to hear their problems, and it’s not exactly the best feeling in the world, when in fact I just physically can’t do it.

So, I guess for those of you out there, please stop with your constant nattering of your problems- in the nicest way possible. Everyone has them, it’s not something special, and you’ve just got to get up and carry on with your life, and try as hard to not make it public so that the whole world knows it. I’m not saying bottle it up and never speak of it. speak of it, but limit how much you say. Please.

Yeah, I don’t really know what to call this, but I just have to put it out there…

A father who abandoned his kids for 9 years and then asked for contact again and got his oldest child’s (my sister) email. To which, he sent only 5 emails not talking once about the past and smoothly (or so he thought) avoiding her questions, until she asked him for money to which he just disappeared again. ( Seems like he has a knack of that doesn’t it?)

This is kind of a rant slash “letter” which I’m not ever going to send slash just another form of writing down my feelings.

I feel that a child shouldn’t ever feel the emotion of anger towards any of their parents. Ever. Because the parent has usually has more experience and is usually wiser than the child. But I’ve decided to make one exception. My exception is that only if the parent harms the child. And that’s what you did. I’m not accusing you; I’m simply stating facts.  Now you might be sitting there thinking, how have I ever harmed any of my children (because you think like that, don’t you?) well, as your child, I’m telling you I’ve been harmed, and as a sibling of your other children, I can tell you that you’ve harmed them as well. I’m not going to go into what you did in your private life, because frankly I’m still your child, and at the end of the day, it’s your life. I can think its wrong, but it’s not my place to tell you what to do and what not to do. Let me tell you why I’m certain that what you did was harmful in to us kids- or at least to me. You left me, when I am your responsibility. There is no debate on whether a child is a parent’s responsibility or not, and if someone was to turn around and say that hold on a second, it depends on whether the parent felt that they could be able to look after and care for the child, I would look at them and think, what planet are you living on? Doesn’t what you’re saying sound so baseless and illogical? And I would also think, oh that’s just sad. So sad that you don’t know that a child has the right to have actual parents who look after them, and have the right for their parents to actually be a part of their lives.

Coming back to you, I have the right to ask you any question we want to, considering the difficult and extremely hard position you’ve put me in. And so I have the right to ask you the question what exactly was your plan when you sent us to a different country, claiming it was for a “holiday”? Did you realise that you were harming us- me- by just literally putting me in a different country and then just leaving? Physically and mentally? Did you not stop and think why am I kicking my own children out of their home – out of our home, and not even telling them why? Did you think just leaving me for a good 9 years was okay? Do you not know what kind of consequences that it had? I would literally throw a fit you were to turn around and say to me, I’m sorry I didn’t realise you would get harmed and I wasn’t thinking of the consequences, because that just tells me that’s because you weren’t thinking of what’s best for your children or what’s best for me. You were thinking of what was best for yourself. You were thinking what’s best for yourself, when you left us with nothing. And a parent always puts their children before themselves, so what kind of parent are you?

Did you not feel any remorse into not watching your last child, and my little sister grow up? And I most definitely don’t want you to turn around and say, I do feel remorse, which is why I’m contacting you, because I will just think, what, you weren’t thinking about it for the past 9 years, what it’s just suddenly occurred to you, did you have “a dream”? Financially wise, you have lot to pay for (everything actually). Yeah, I survived, but no thanks to you. Yeah we got shelter, we had food, we could wear clothes, we could go to a school, but no thanks to you. Which is a bit surprising actually, because everybody knows that it’s the fathers job to make sure the children are financially stable. But you didn’t. And no, you didn’t. I’m not talking about recently, I’m talking about since we came here to London, 9 years ago, did you provide us with enough money so we were financially stable? No, you didn’t. You gave us a check of £600 for us all to buy beds. I don’t find that generous at all; considering you’re our father (what kind of beds did you want us to have?). You sent us a few parcels with interesting things inside. Is it some kind of new trend, to send winter clothes in summer and vice versa? Did you even know how old I was?  You certainly didn’t know my style and what colour I liked. Why, because you never took the time, you have no idea how cliché that sounds (I guess a lot of children are put in this position), but you never took the time.

You seem to think that by sending a few parcels, that’s enough for you to do, and its equivalent with staying in contact with us, when in fact it clearly isn’t. You seem to be under the delusion that you have financially supported us throughout, but I fail to see how. I don’t really like the feeling of getting on with your life, but with a shadow following you, making you remember that there’s a chance you won’t be able to go university, because your dad doesn’t want to pay it for you and you’re sitting there thinking why? How? He still hasn’t changed? What did I do to deserve this? He can’t because he doesn’t have the “means” to, or he can because he doesn’t wish to, because he doesn’t like the idea of his kids sucking his bank account(s) dry, which is why he ran away in the first place? You have a lot of money, thank the Lord, and you’re telling me you can’t spare any of it? Yeah, you may think you don’t have enough compared to the people around you, but humans always compare themselves to others so that they can feel sorry for themselves and make other people feel sorry for themselves. And that’s why they are never content with what they have. Are you content?

It seems so bizarre to think that you want a fresh start but you don’t even want us to talk about what happened in the past. You don’t seem to think that we – that I have a lot of built up anger towards you, and just the idea of you coming back, doesn’t somehow lessen it.

Then it’s laughable that as soon as money is mentioned, you’ve disappeared again, because let’s face it, you don’t really want to make us happy, you have the need to just see your children, for yourself, not for us, and not for anyone else.

Are you angry? Angry with us voicing out our opinions of 9 bloody years. Or are you angry for putting yourself in this huge mess? Do you really think I’ll just be handed to you just like that, because you asked? Psh… You didn’t even say please. As far as I know, life isn’t really like that. You have to earn things, or so I’ve been taught.

When you’re given a second chance you don’t waste it, and you do your utmost best to redeem yourself. Maybe you’re surprised? Maybe you’re shocked that it’s not how you thought it would be. Are you? To be honest, I’m kind of shocked that you’re surprised. Because no one should think that it’s going to be that easy.

Why are humans so eager to push the blame off them self? Why is humanity so disgraceful? Why can’t we just accept that it was us who made the mistakes? How hard is it for one to put up their hand and say, that’s my fault, and I take full blame?, and you may feel embarrassed, but now someone actually is in fault, and we can move on from the blaming game, and carry on with our lives instead of going round and round in circles, when you know who’s in the wrong, you just want them to acknowledge that they are in the wrong too.

Maybe you’re confused? Maybe you don’t know how to reply to the questions. Maybe it’s been a long time since you had to deal with children and although that’s actually your own fault, maybe you’re stuck and don’t know what to do.

How about answering the questions that were asked by this:

Question 1:

A: actually I didn’t have a plan when I sent you here, truthfully, and I’m sorry, I didn’t use my brain into thinking far ahead, and I’m going to do everything I can to make you forgive me, and to make it up to you, and yes I take full blame, and I’ll tell you everything from my own view, so can see things how I saw things.

B: oh yeah actually I did have a plan, and that was that you were going to live with your grandparents, and not see me,  and I’m sorry if you don’t think that’s practical but I do so yeah, and frankly that’s what matters.

C: erm, well the thing is uh I uh thought I had a plan, but everything actually came back and hit me in the face, so I guess its karma.

Just say something. Seriously, I genuinely just want to know what was going through your head – rather than you avoiding everything asked. Seriously. And I do have a right to know, since we were just pieces being moved around, but then again I don’t want to hear a cliché answer, because then I just think I’m wasting my time, ad Ill know that you haven’t changed and you’re still the same.

Question 2:

A: yeah I read your question and I’m going to tell you that I feel that I’m not really in a good financial position to pay your university fees even though I’m your father and it’s my responsibility. (Although I don’t think you’ll say that if you’d read what I wrote before, unless you don’t care in which we’ll see when you do reply (if you do reply)).

B: Yeah sorry that’s not going to happen. Too bad. Not everything is about you, you know ( who would’ve thought)

C: Yeah about that, just get a student loan. It’s not that difficult.

D: (if you’re in a really good mood and maybe an alternative universe) yeah ill pay your fees cos I know that what I’ve done is actually unforgivable and I’m going to do everything I can to try and build up our relationship, cos I want us to start over, and I’m going to do it right this time, and also because it’s my responsibility to, and I’m violating the right of you children. Again, just say what you’re genuinely thinking, but bear in mind that if you want to build a relationship, you need to try and sacrifice some things, and you are going to have to put yourself in the hot seat, and take the blame,  oh, and also pay up.

Question 3:

A: No way is that happening. I am so not buying you a house. Do I look like I’m loaded (to which I’ll just reply yes).

B: you’ve survived for 9 years I’m sure you can carry on doing just fine

C: okay, I can’t buy you a house, but I can put some money toward it

D: I know that when I said come live with me, I was being really and utterly completely irrational and so again I’m going to figure something out, but I will help you, because I know that what you need in your life is a father figure you never had, and it would be nice to have your own house for a change of just moving from place to place (considering I do (and everybody I knows I do) have the means to).

Just think about it. Is it possible that abandoning your children is wrong? (Yes 100 %!!!!!!) Can you please not keep giving excuses?, when we all know you’re wrong, because you don’t know what it’s doing to my head. Please, just accept you’re bloody wrong!!!

What you reply determines whether or not I want to re-establish my relationship with you, and it most certainly determines for my other siblings as well. If you don’t even reply at all, then I know, that you haven’t changed, and you don’t really want contact, and I can finally continue with my life, not looking back once, not feeling sorry for you at all, and just putting everything behind me, but still having the same anger and even hatred towards what you’ve done.

I’m sorry, I just had to post this…..

A priest hooks a huge fish. Helping him reel it in, a sailor says, “Whoa, look at the size of that fucker!”

“Hey, mind your language!” says the priest.

Embarrassed, the sailor thinks quickly and blurts out, “Sorry father, but that’s what this fish is called – it’s a Fucker fish.” Accepting the explanation, the priest forgives the sailor and takes the fish back to church.

“Look at this huge fucker,” says the priest, spotting the bishop.

“Language, please! This is God’s house,” replies the bishop.

“No, no – that’s what this fish is called,” says the priest.

“Oh,” says the bishop, scratching his chin. “I could clean that fucker and we could have it for dinner”.

So the bishop takes the fish, cleans it, and brings it to the mother superior. “Could you cook this fucker for dinner tonight?” he asks her.

“My, what language!” she exclaims, clearly shocked.

“No, sister that’s what the fish is called – a fucker,” says the bishop.

Satisfied with the explanation, the mother superior says, “Wonderful, I’ll cook that fucker tonight – the Pope is coming for dinner!”

The fish tastes just great and the Pope asks where they got it.

“Well, I caught the fucker!” says the priest.

“And I cleaned the fucker!” says the bishop.

“And I cooked the fucker!” says the mother superior.

The Pope stares at them for a minute with a steely gaze, leans back on his chair, takes off his cap, puts his feet up on the table, pours himself a whiskey and says, “You know what? You cunts are alright”.

My unhealthy obsession with the Arctic Monkeys…

Okay, so for some reason I have been really obsessed with the Arctic Monkeys and I know their music is good – okay scratch that AMAZING- but I have been obsessing with them for more than 4 months, which for me is a long time, as I usually get tired of things quite easily. I tend to change the style of my music depending on my mood so fast, that people are just like, woah, slow down there mate! But I can’t, there is so much good music out there that matches exactly with what I’m feeling or exactly what I want to feel, iygm.

Featured image

Alex Turner, the lyrical genius sets my heart beating faster every time I listen to his voice, not in a weird love sick way, woah no. It’s not about attraction any more, well it never was in the first place, but, there is something else in his voice, that just makes me want to latch onto and stay there for eternity, and I feel, every time he sings, I’m safe, nothing can go wrong. His voice captivates me and reminds me of for some odd reason of warm leather, and I feel that if I was to hug him, nothing could go wrong for me. No one would or could hurt me. His voice plays perfectly along wit the electric guitar that releases music that is clearly not from this world, and the skilful drumming finishes it off perfectly.

Back in the winter, when the days were short and got dark quicker, I was walking home from the station, and the night had already come. It wasn’t cold, but there was a slight wind that seemed as if it was trying to push me backwards. The sky was clear, and the stars- well the few that there were- were out. I had my headphones in, the streets were practically empty, and Why’d You Only Call Me When Your High was playing so loudly in my ears, with my heart beating in time to the drums. A huge – and I mean huge- wave of happiness and sadness washed over me all at the same time, and the mix of emotions made me breathless, and then also quite dizzy. I felt like laughing, crying, screaming and not saying anything all at the same time. A sudden urge to just start dancing in the streets was ever so strong, and I almost did, but just as I was dropping my bag on the ground, my rational part quickly tamed my irrational part.

I keep yearning for the same feeling to come again but it still hasn’t graced me with its presence. Sometimes there is too much nostalgia around me for me to take, it overwhelms me. If I sit in a certain place, or listen to a certain song, or especially if the weather is specifically warm, I feel like crying. Just crying and crying until I’m completely empty. Because I think, I remember when I sat here with my friends and the times were good, and we had nothing – nothing I repeat- to worry about. We had no fights- well the ones that we did were so pointless- we were all there just laughing and giggling for no reason, but we felt more than happy, and nothing could bring us down. And then I think, I remember this song, the one that held oh so many memories, and I just can’t listen to it any more, because if I do, my emotions will just rocket up and down, and I’ll just want to go back into the past and just stay there.

And then of course, the summer held so many memories, of water fights, running around like little kids again, and eating tons of ice-cream together. And all of these images just saturate me with sadness until I wish I wasn’t living any more.

But I do want to live, I want to carry on living, with my whole life ahead of me, and I hate these thoughts of whenever there is something in my life that’s an overburden for me, I resort to wishing I didn’t live. Because to me, that seems kind of cowardly…

Greetings to whoever may read this….

I’ve always needed somewhere to write, whether it was in my journal, my “private” teenage diary, or even just on a scrap piece of paper, just doodling whatever comes into my mind.
I think we’ve all been here when I tell you that -if you haven’t been here than this is just a tad bit awkward bruv but anyway- once you’ve written in your little private diary of yours, you close it and go on your business, doing whatever you need to do, but when you return to your diary, to fill it up again with your amazing thoughts you read over your previous writing, and feel a wave of stupidity wash over yourself, and realise that your thoughts are not so amazing now.
You resort to tearing out the page, and ripping it into tiny sheds so that you can cast it into the river Thames, or flushing it down the toilet – or even just chucking into you bin, cos lets face it, who has the energy to go all the way to the river Thames (unless of course you live near it which in that case, by all means, cast away your stupidity!).

Anyway, so myself only, cos I don’t know about the rest of you, but I soon discovered that however idiotic and shallow what I had written sounded, it still allowed me to in a way, release my feelings. By not writing I was kind of bottling up my emotions and then taking it out on a random person- usually someone who hadn’t done anything wrong to me. ( the look on their faces though….)

My friend was telling me how she started to keep a journal which wasn’t necessarily all just writing by art and drawing and all of that, and I thought why don’t I try writing again, I mean what have I got to lose? It turned out I lost a lot of paper. And now I was just feeling stupid. Stupid and frustrated.
I browsed online and eventually came across an online diary, which was private, I used it quite regularly, and I still do, but I wanted to be able to share some of my thoughts ( heh not not all)  with people out there this beautiful and lovely world. Well if anyone actually decides to read this. In my blog, I will literally say – well write- anything that comes to my mind, so beware of the randomness.
So yeah, I hope you enjoy what I have to write, and I look forward to any comments….