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I can feel the walls pressing down upon me. Cannot breathe. Everything is so damn empty. Empty of colour. Empty of meaning. Why strive to go on? Always wanting more. Grasping, kicking, fluttering on the edge. And for what? Life is just a huge void. Empty and cold. Everyone is alone. Always. Telling each other the contrary is just one big lie. Everyone is born alone. Everyone dies alone.



Fullstop.



Nothing matters. Nothing is worthwhile. You could do the most atrocious of crimes, and what could anyone do to you? Lock you in prison? Give you a death sentence? I`m allready locked. Allready dead. Might as well get on with it.



Wings reduced to stumps, trailing blood and soiled feathers.



Only experiencing true corruption can one see reality.

Why do people expect you to be like them and share their view of the world? Can`t they simply accept that people are different, and that their way is not necessarily the best way? Frankly I`m damn tired of people wanting to force me to be like them, and then looking down on me because I am not. Keep your opinions for yourself cause I don`t care what you think.



So? I like solitude. Yes, I`m a solitary. And when I say solitary I MEAN solitary! I don`t care about your damn rituals, do what you like and leave me in peace! I`m not interested in joining covens, even if they are 'not really covens, but a way of interacting with other pagans'; I don`t want to interact, I doon`t NEED to interact. So, buzz off and leave me in peace.



Hmmm... that helped. Now, I feel better. Writing does seem to take away some of my irritation. Go go Rave!

I just wanted to wish everyone a MERRY SAMHAIN! :)



'As the sun God descends his throne

gives reign over to the crone

I pray thee sorrow take your leave

from mine house and me.



All within the good earth sleeps

and gentle Mother does retreat

to her chamber in the mound

to rest with the Maiden soft and sound.



The veils between the worlds are thin.

Hearken to the whispering din

of honored Ancestors and the Sidhe,

who bless us with their memory.



Let the year pass this night

and with the morrow's dawning light

may spirits both alive and dead

walk in peace in the year ahead.'



Wonderful poem by Deborah Hollins.

Blessed Be!

I was wondering, do I like this site so much because I like to complain? Is it my imagination or is every one of my entries full of grumblings? Is that why I have so many diaries; both real and online in various sites? So that I can complain to multiple recipients? Lol. Well, at least instead of boring people to death, I`m just writing in a dead vacuum.

Ehh... 'Poor poor little me!' *sigh*

Just sent off my weekly spate of job applications. Totally unnecessary of course; no one ever employs me, but it`s just so that I can shut up my conscience for another week.



The highlight of my day has been reading 'The Sunday Times' (that should tell you something). I got it at around noon, and fell upon it with a vengeance and a pair of scissors. Of course, I passed right through all the political sections and the usual article on breast cancer and woman emancipation, and went to enjoy my favourite page - the Religion section. Now you`re saying; wow this girl is SO religious... yeah right. No, but seriously; that page is the only one worth reading - it`s the funniest and most hilarious of the lot (though the opinion page comes close sometimes) and it always has me up in stitches. Just read this part; here they`re writing about the new propositions made by the pope (who in my opinion has the look of a psychopatic mass murderer);



'Proposition 40 said Catholics who have divorced and civilly remarried without an annulment "cannot be admitted to Holy Communion" because they are in clear contrast with Church teachings on marriage. At the same time it said such Catholics should be welcomed at Mass and at other activities of the Church community'



Oh please! So what are they really proving, apart from the fact that they`d do anything to fill up more seating space in church? That`s hypocrisy for you! And it gets worse!



'It (the church) repeated the teaching that divorced Catholics who do not obtain an annullment of the previous marriage should be encouraged to live their union as a "friendship" instead of as a conjugal relationship'



LOL! Need I quote more?! A "friendship"... in what sense pray? Hypocrisy galore!!! *smirk*



Then to compound all this, on the University section there was an article on St. Augustine, who, they wrote, said that he was 'in love with the world, a world he called a smiling place' and which is a 'space for loyalty and love and care'. Which world did he live in? Please tell me so I can go there!

Gods, these damn parents are really getting on my nerves. I`m 21 and they expect me home by 2am. That`s bad enough. But they say they are too permissive, that I should feel lucky, and that they let me more than they should!! What the hell??? Are they from this planet or not??? Are they blind? Cannot they see me? I really don`t get it.

At the moment I`m reading a book that`s got me completely enchanted. Yes, that the word. Enchanted. The plot is not so original, but the way this author writes is really special. The author is Anne Rice, and the book is 'Violin'. The book is about ghosts basically; i told you it wasn`t original, however the point is that the way she writes really touches something in me. It`s more poetry than prose... and I love poetry. That dark, passionate stream of dreamlike matter which pulsates with your heartbeat...



Her way of writing forces you to read slowly, slowly, so as to saviour every word and sensation. Ususally I gobble books up, but I`m reading this as slowly as I can because I don`t want it to end. Here is a quote which I could not resist putting here:



'Fall soft with kisses not to scatter this embrace in which we are living - me and him, the dead as one. This crevice is our home. Let the drops be tears like song, more sound and lull than water, for I would have nothing here disturbed, but only lustruous sweet, with you forever...

Let me snuggle against you, let me lie in your arms, let me assure you that no outward sign of death means anything to me as much as love, and that we lived, you and I, once, alive, and I would not be anywhere now but with you here in this slow and damp and safe corruption'.

Sometimes I pass through 'song phases'. I 'discover' a song I really like and listen to it continuously; and only it mind, for days. At all times, by all means. Yesterday, I discovered 'My Chemical Romance'`s 'Helena'. Now, I don`t like that band (except for the lead singer :)) but I DO like that one particular song. The video is great too. Honestly, I don`t know what I prefer most, Gerard Way or the ballerina dress Helena is wearing. Hmm it sounds weird like that, but if you know which dress I`m talking about maybe it would make more sense... Nah I think I prefer Gerard.



Anyway, I watched the video twenty times in a row yesterday. Lol. No, that`s not a record for me...



There`s this look Gerard has when he`s bringing out the coffin from the church, his hair plastered to his face... kind of angry and haunted... (sigh)

I wonder... do I like Gothic bands because I like to feel depressed? Am I wallowing in self-pity? My fav book is 'Wuthering Heights', so, to be completely honest, I think I DO like being depressed! Gods! Can anyone be so hopeless? Maybe all I have is my depression. Hmmm, sounds as if today is one of those days... again. Must have been yesterday night. Strange, at the time I thought I was having fun... sort of. Well, it WAS pretty disgusting at times. (for me things people find common are disgusting... so don`t get any strange ideas). Mediocrity and commonness and two of the things I hate most in the world. Hypocrisy and ignorance are next; but let`s not get into that. Gods I hope tonight I`ll hear some cool songs else it`s gonna be a boring Samhain. A friend just sms`d and said 'Sorry. Nothing doing for Sunday' and I said 'Don`t worry. No problem'. What else could I say? Damn. Sunday`s gone down the drain. I guess I`ll go out somewhere colourless in the evening with my clique. As usual. The point is, my friends don`t bore me, far from it. I really like them. But they ARE different from me, and worse they don`t realize it. Well, as long as I go on as I started... it should be fine. I guess.

She looked at her face reflected in the glass. Linkin Park`s 'Crawling' banged inside the club, but here on the balcony, the sound was muted. As if coming from behind a fit mist. Everyone else was inside. Here it was cold as death. She felt comfortable. Alone. Always, always alone. The worse times were when she was surrounded by people. That was when she felt it most. Smile up charmingly and be friendly. Be polite. Mouth non-sensical phrases. Much better like this.



The rain trailed invisible tears down the pane. The pain. She trailed one tiny trickle with her little finger. Chipped black nails warming the window. It seemed as if the rain was coming out of her eyes. Only, she had none left.



She gazed at her eyes, looking into her eyes, staring into her eyes. No one else was there. Would she ever see someone else looking back at her someday? Her, and yet not her? The same, yet different? She shuddered as the chilly wind howled around the balcony.



Never again.



She put a hand over her mouth to keep from crying out. Felt hot hands kneading her back.



Never again.



She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Then, hearing the door open, she schooled her face into normality and turned around with a smile.



'There you are', giggles her best friend, 'we though you had gone home, come on and dance with us, we have something funny to tell you!' 'Oooh what?' she cries in mock interest ' tell me, tell me'.



The two friends get into the warm club, moving with the music. The music, which chokes out all screams of sorrow.

Hmmm my mother has been taking depression pills since our dog died (and from that you`ll know what type of person my mother is... does`nt know anything about me but has a breakdown about anything else)... I wonder if I should try some...

There`s a friend who is really getting on my nerves. Oh he`s done nothing as such, but he keeps on making these comments and thinking that I`m not minding. Imagine, I told him I liked him (as a friend obviously), and he said I don`t bother him!!! What the hell!!?? Who do you think you are buddy? He`s really funny and I like him, but this continuation of jabs is getting on my nerves. And then I ask myself, does he consider me a friend or not? And if he does not, do I really care? I see him like three times a week; we go out as a group, and believe me I don`t fancy him or anything... it`s just that his attitude has got me puzzled. Doesn`t he get it that I really DON`T LIKE his comments? If he makes another one on the way I dress I WILL punch him this time. And for real, not the way I did last week.

Some people say I`m not a 'rocker' whatever that means, because I like Manson and they think he`s become too commercial. Others say that it`s because I like Evanescence and The Rasmus and they`re rock not metal, and too 'soft'. Well, I like what I like. I don`t listen to songs just because someone says they r what 'rockers' listen to, or because they r the best to headbang to. I am who I am. Music is very important to me; I listen to it all the time, no matter what my current mood is. I don`t care what others like. Only what I do.

I was looking back at my last three journal entries... hehe I AM sorry for those who think they know me. Honestly I am. They absolutely have no idea :) lol... nor ever will.

It`s sad though; the people who are 'closest' to me have no idea what the hell I am about.



Damn, this journal is becoming a drug. Can`t I have one though without writing it? STOP WRITING NOW!

I wonder, was it a mistake to start this damn journal? Maybe I should just leave off... only it`s a relief to be writing here. Shit, one way or another I always manage to fuck up everything. No matter how insignificant.

When you are with your best friends, you are supposed to be yourself aren`t you? They are supposed to know you aren`t they? So, why do I act even when I am with them? No, be honest, you act MOST OF ALL when you are with them. They barely know one fifth of me!



Perhaps it`s because I hope that if I act happy, I may sometimes feel happy too. Most of the time I don`t of course, 99% of it is an act... the way I behave you`d think I was really having fun and enjoying myself. Yeah right... However sometimes, when I`m headbanging most likely, I am so busy pretending that I am happy, that for an instant I forget that I am not. However then it all comes crashing back again. Sometimes it`s really hard to keep on the mask and keep it from cracking.



Gods writing here is really a relief, here I can be the real me, and no one knows :)



Tonight we`re going somewhere I am sure I`ll be bored stiff. Worse, it`ll cost a capital. Worst still, yesterday my father`s car crashed so I have begged a lift from a friend... the one who passes the snide comments... so now I`ll be indebted to him too! Shit! And I have no idea how I`ll arrange everything for tomorrow. I don`t care; I said I`d go to that damn costume party AND I WILL!

Sometimes, a quote from someone else can express the way we feel better

than we ourselves do...



Tu fermeras l'oeil, pour ne point voir,

par la glace,

Grimacer les ombres des soirs,

Ces monstrosités hargneuses, populace

De démons noirs et de loups noirs.



- Rêvé pour l'hiver, Rimbaud



You will close your eyes, in order not to see,

through the glass,

The evening shadows making faces,

Those snarling monstrosities, a populace

Of black demons and black wolves.



- A Dream for Winter, Rimbaud

There`s a saying in Malta, it goes something like this; 'One drop after another, the bottle becomes full'. Well, lately that`s what is happening to me. What I mean is, there isn`t one big particular reason why I should be angry, just lots, and I mean LOTS of little reasons which make up one big insufferable life. I mean; any little thing in my life that can go wrong, DOES go wrong. For example;

1) I am NEVER chosen for interviews either because I`m 'too young' or 'have no experience' (where the hell can I get experience from if no one employs me!???)

2) BIG financial problems

3) One of my friends is really irritating me with his snide little comments on how I dress and my style and so on, he also passes comments I don`t like...

4) I started my post-graduate course because I thought it would give me stability and would be something to enjoy, and I DO ejnoy it; only instead of giving me more courage and showing me what I can have, it only highlights what I DO NOT have. All the other students have a good job plus a stable relationship; I do not have even the shadow of a job, and as for a relationship (Gods forbid a stable one, but let`s just say a relationship), the least said the better.

5) The parents are a pain in the ass

6) Having to depend on others for transport (I don`t have a car, much less the means of buying one)

7) Also,... no I`m not gonna write this, I`m just pointing out that there is another something which is making me angry and irritated... too personal to write...



Well, there are many other things, but this is becoming a list of complaints so I`d better stop. Though I`m sure NO ONE in his right mind is gonna read this.

Anyway... these are only my smaller problems. The ones you think of when you don`t want to think about the bigger ones. There are a couple of those, and I`m not gonna write anything about them here.



The point is, there is no solution... the only escape I can see is eating a live hen and catching the bird flu.

How can someone who doesn`t even have a job, still have a life that`s so hectic? I simply can`t understand! I scarcely have time to eat! WHat the hell?



Anyway, I have an interview today, another one. Gods, more than 3 months of interviews and still NOTHING! What is wrong with me? The guys who do the interviews all simper and smile, and then they don`t call me back for a third interview! Gah, if I have a nice smile, why doesn`t it work to hook me a job? Maybe those people who tell me they like my smile are just a bunch of liars. Still, I DO see the effect my smile has on people soometimes. Maybe it only works with desperate guys who`d do anything for a date, not with interviewers. Worse luck!

It`s not fair. When I was 12 or so I used to read these gooey Mills and Boon romances where the heroine would always melt at the sight of the hero, and I used to think 'Gods what a looser, that can never happen to ME'. Then, 9 years later here I am! Oh it`s not a guy I know thank the Goddess. However the fact that someone like that exist terrifies me to death.



The guy I`m talking about is Ville Valo from the band H.I.M. He`s my epitome of male beauty. No one can even come close. The first time I saw him I couldn`t breathe, and now, each time I see a picture of him or something, I go simply crazy. And those are just images! Thank God no one ever comes to Malta. I know if I ever saw him face to face I`d just die that instant. Talk about loosers! I melt each time I see the video of a song of his.



If I ever meet a guy who evokes in me that same feeling, I`ll really be fucked up. Wouldn`t even be able to think while he was around...



Therefore, the fact that I WANT to meet someone who makes me feel like that makes me even more crazy.

Damn that fucken` son of a bitch Walter Disney. He fucked up entire generations, both male and female. Leave out the stereotyping (lots to say there) and the sexist attitude (men act and women are just there to be saved - like Walker Texas Ranger - Gods I hate that series) - but come on, I`m twenty-one years old and I`m ashamed to admit that yes, I still believe in true love... sad but true. Not realistic, but what can I do? Perhaps that`s why I`m never satisfied with my actual dates/bfs/whatever; nothing can compare to the fantasy I have created in my mind over the years...

The worst kind of lies are the lies you tell yourself. And even though we may say that we NEVER EVER lie to ourselves, well... we are still lying! The worst and most painful lies are the ones we tell ourselves before we fall asleep. As we are lying there with our eyes closed, vulnerable to all our fears and failed resolutions, we tell ourselves that tomorrow will be better, that we won`t feel so damn alone any more, that this is the last night we end up sogging the pillow, that a new opportunity will arrive soon, that someone will at last discover our talent, that the person we have hurt will forgive us, or that we will find a solution for a problem that has been worrying us.



Everyone tells these kind of lies, in the hope that tomorrow, everything will be allright again. The worst is, that no matter how many nights pass, we end up telling the same lies over and over again.

It`s not fair. I don`t have anyone to take pics of me. Not the kind of pics I want to take anyway. But then, even if I had, I`d be too shy of posting them. The fact is I was going to take part in a contest to become part of a calendar. I did take some cool photos, but then I decided against posting them. The main reason is that unfortunately I am very shy around people I do not know, and I would not feel at all comfortable wondering if at that moment there was someone masturbating to my photo! That`s if I won, if I didn`t, what`s the point in taking part?

Words of wisdom: "Do it yourself. Fuck sitting around and waiting for things to be handed to you on a plate. Unless mommy and daddy are rich, it's not going to happen without much personal sacrifice and dedication. Don't expect anyone to hold your hand or help you out based on the infinite benevolence in their hearts. Welcome to the real world, expect to take it in the ass and do everything in your power to prevent it. The best way to do that is to control whatever you can."

-Klayton Scott from CellDweller



Maybe I should just quit writing diaries and just LIVE!

Are diaries just a pretext to waste time, or are they simply a cry for help? Do we write in the hope that someone may secretly read our diary someday?



Lately I seem to leave diaries and lists all over the place. Tiny snippens of me here and there. This last year has been terrible; I felt as if I was loosing myself in stereotypes - becoming someone else entirely. At one point I was really horrified at what I had become. Fortunately I had the balls to change back to the real me. It`s true, I am an actress and hide my feelings, but I had never lied to myself before. Anyway, I don`t want to go into all that again. The problem is that now exactly the opposite seems to be happening. I am me so much me that it`s like I`m dribbling all over the place... if that makes sense. Comes of having too much time on my hands. Damn. I even considered re-writing what I had written here in my REAL diary. That would take time; what a waste! Here I`ve written some things I`ve felt for a long time, and which I haven`t written in the other diary. I`ve decided I`ll leave this place for more general, yet deeper thoughts and the other journal for what actually happens to me each day. After all, I can`t very well mention names and places here can I? I`ve decided not to anyway. It`s safer that way.

These lyrics describe my situation perfectly. That`s why I adore metal, you always find something which expresses what you feel to sing to.



The lyrics are from Korn`s 'Alone I Break'.



"Alone I Break"



Am I going to leave this place?

What is it I'm running from?

is there nothing more to come? (am I Gunna leave this place?)

Is it always black in space?

Am I going to take it's place?

Am I going to leave this race? (Am I going to leave this race?)

I guess god's up in this place?

what is it that I've become?

is there something more to come? (more to come)

Many people write a lot about sex and sordid affairs in their journals just so that they can be amongst the 'highest rated' or 'most viewed'. Frankly I don`t give a shit if you read my journal or not. I`m writing the journal for myself, because I want to and because I need to, not for anyone else. I`m not mentioning any specific names or places cause I want to remain anonymous, but all I write is the absolute truth. No matter how boring or unbelivably melodramatic. This is my life and the way I see it. I don`t believe that those who shag everything that moves have 'a life'. They just have a lot of time on their hands. Plus for me things like that are either private, or special, or very painful, so I`m definitely NOT going to write about sex or anything like that. If that means no one is gonna read my journal so much the better. At least I`ll have somewhere to write my thoughts in peace.

I open my eyes feeling the residues of last night`s make-up gritting my eyes. Combined with the usual headache, it is not a very good incentive to start the day. I slither a heavy arm and pick up one of the many pieces of tissue lying around. I know the room`s a mess but I never seem to have the energy, or the inclination, to try and tackle it. The lime water near me is three months old, don`t want that near my eyes, so I lick the tissue a bit trying not to taste the congealed lipstick on it, and pass it underneath the offending lashes.



After a bit I groan, get up and put up my hair. After a trip to the bathroom I realize that there`s no one home. The parents have gone to mass and then to that garrulous and irritating creature; 'nanna'. Haven`t seen her for months, nor do I intend to. Each time there`s a sort of inquisition with all six couples of aunts and uncles present (not to mention the cousins I do not know cause I never bothered to talk to them, nor ever will). So, with the sheep gone out to follow their mindless ritual, I`m finally free to appropriate myself of the pc in peace.



I remember that my friends had wanted to go out in the afternoon. Mdina. Again. Don`t feel at all like primping and smirking at nothing today. I write up an excuse and send some sms`s. We`ll miss you blah blah. Yeah right.



After a couple of hours on the pc the parents get back (unfortunately), bringing with them the dreaded Sunday Times. During dinner (pasta, again) all the jobs I could have and don`t want crop up as usual. Mother wants me to try and get a job with some lawyers so that I can snag up one of them and get a husband. Father wants to get me in with one of his political party`s friends. Blah blah. Boring. I reply in monosyllables.



Dinner finally over, I get my ass back on the stool near the pc and type away, trying to find some meaning to this empty existence. No such luck.

I`ve noticed two things:



1) I always seem to write a lot when I feel a certain degree of depression. I say degree cause Im an expert at depression. So much so that I`ve invented names bout the various stages (that should tell you something about my life. duh) And no, it`s not when I`m most depressed that I write a lot.



2) My entries seem to be filled with questions.



Does that show that I am really confused? That I am unsure and have a low self-esteem? Or just that I am a realist?



Here we go again. Questions.

Gods, I really hate people who think anyone who wears black and studs and puts on loads of black make-up is automatically 'Goth'. First of all you can`t define anyone. Second, there are many people who are just posers and Goth wannabes; they dress up just to show off and know nothing about it, third there are Goths who dress normally, but are still Goths. You can dress like Boy George (YUK) and still be Goth. Being Goth is a state of mind; it is the lens through which you view life; it is a way of thinking that has nothing to do with clothes, and everything to do with music. So, you people out there who think to judge me (be you Goth or not) I don`t give a shit, cause if you believe YOU can tell ME who I am, then you really know nothing about either Goth, and much less me.



(And this was specifically aimed at a guy who thought to tell me how to dress. What the hell do you care? You don`t even like heavy metal! The cheek of it! And no I won`t forget it, though I may smile and smirk at you - who the hell do you think you are?)

Here it comes again. That dreaded night. The night when the whole world expects you to primp yourself up, plaster a huge smile on your face, and go out to mingle with a crowd of repressed adoloscents filled with the need to prove they are normal. Worse, as I frequent heavy metal clubs (the few there are, and they`re not really worth the title), I mingle with normal people who`d do ANYTHING not to appear 'normal'. So much so that being different has become a stereotype as well. Damn them. Damn everyone. How can I feel so alone when there are tons of people around me? Fat guys ogling me from across the room (you can practically see their puffy faces glistening with sweat as they try to get up the courage to come and talk to you), and a couple of giggling friends poking each other in the ribs?



You try and behave like them. Yes, I am having fun. Loooots of fun. See, I am smiling. I am dancing and banging my head around like everyone else. But why? Why do I have to pretend? Always, always to pretend. I started up complaining about people who want to look normal, only to ralize that the worst thing is that I am in danger of becoming one of them. Always bottling up this awful despair. I am so damn tired of this hopeless routine. Just dry up and die you useless prude.



Tonight, it starts again.



And then I wonder, how can they all be so blind? How can they not see the cavorting and shrieking stranger in their midst? Can they not hear my screams? Can they not see the tears about to trickle from joyless eyes? Can they not see me strain not to vomit blood? Gods I hate them so much. Most of all I hate myself.

Why do I always distance myself from everyone? What am I so damn afraid of? I always put on a barrier between the real me and other people. Why? Why? Why? Will I live all my life as a recluse? How can anyone like me for who I am if no one ever KNOWS who I am? Gods, I`m sick and tired of myself, but I can`t change. Some time, I feel as if I`ve lived for thousands of years, the world is so empty and everythng is so tasteless. Other times, I feel as if I have never really lived at all. Perhaps I never will. Writing here is a relief because no one here knows who I am. And still, there are barriers.



Here the lyrics from The Rasmus 'Time to Burn' come to mind:



'I don`t know why

all my life I`ve been living on the borderline

Too many bridges burned,

too many lies I`ve heard...

and I know I don`t have any time to burn'

Some people are really obsessed with making friends. Others really want to keep the ones they have, at all costs. Even if they don`t really like them. Just to have someone, anyone, to hang out with. I`m not talking about myself here. I want to make that clear. I prefer to have REAL friends than friends-for-convention. That`s why I have so few friends I guess. Better a few true friends than many hypocritical ones. All the rest are mere acquaintances. To be an acquaintance, you just have to talk to me, to be a friend, you have to EARN MY TRUST. Believe me, that is VERY difficult.

Many people spend all of their lives wearing a mask - hiding their real feelings and emotions behind pretend ones. Past experiences have changed me from a happy child; emotions clear as glass written on my face, to a disenchanted adult; hidden behind a mask which reflects back to others what they want to see, what they EXPECT to see. The mask numbs away the pain of existence. How can one feel, when one refuses to be made of flesh and blood? Every expression, every word is a lie. I`m an actress pretending to be real.



All that remains of me is a blank porcelain mask.