Archive for the my autobiographical ramblings Category

A change

Posted in my autobiographical ramblings on January 19, 2008 by tragicprincess

I’ve changed my blog, it can’t be as personal as I’d like it to be as I don’t want to offend.  Always scared, always anxious, that’s me, so I’m just going to post my poems, my lyrics, my hopes and fears, and not worry about my parents reading how fucked up I really am. 

 I miss my boyfriend.  He just started a job in a kitchen and works 4pm til modnight.  I work the 9-5 monday to friday slog, and I feel single.  I thought I craved peace and down-time, but I do miss him.  See, I’m not as tough as I think I am….

 ….back to American Idol 2008

confused little cynic

Posted in my autobiographical ramblings with tags , , , , , , on January 1, 2008 by tragicprincess

No one ever gives you real life lessons when you’re growing up.  Nothing substantial, nothing worthwhile to help you get through the pain, loneliness, boredom, confusion and ecstasy of just living on this kooky planet. 

Do you ever feel like something divine was about to happen right under your nose?  Cosmic interchanges and shifts in electromagnetic charges spark and infuse the life that beats under our feet. 

I gave up on religion when I realised the universe was alive.  I didn’t have to imagine a marvellous figure of deity.  I was uneasy about faith upon discovery of conflicting views from around the world. 

At ten years old I thought the whole world was Christian.  At twelve I realised nowhere was.  

I remained spiritually idealistic until I visited the States, and happened to be holidaying in Florida when the twin towers attracted attention in the form of a(supposed) maniacally driven terrorist at the helm of a jet.  That shouldn’t really have happened as I had cast a spell ‘blessing’ my travel.  A gigantic tragedy for the Western World it was.  For the first time I asked why.  Aren’t we all the same?  Don’t we have the same passions, loves, morals?  Yes, for the main part, we do.  At the expense of the shafting of a few (surprisingly large) meagre little countries, principalities, towns, races, we are free.  Living in the free world.

 Sometime I don’t think I ever had mental health problems.  I think I just got sick of everyone else.  If I had been left alone, I might have been fine.  Other people, no matter how genuine their intentions, have a habit of creating a mould for you.  I got stuck in so many moulds at so many different times that the casing broke.  Contrary to feeling free, I was just lost.  Really lost.  A tiny little conscience who shouldn’t really have to think about all the other consciences until they’re ready, maybe never.  I got an itinerary emailed to my brain.  No study notes, just exam after exam.  You get the mental picture. 

And so, in being lost I gained something.  Perspective.

a wee bit about me

Posted in my autobiographical ramblings with tags , , , , , , on January 1, 2008 by tragicprincess

I’m 28.
I have 2 tattoos and want at least 10 more.
I love music (I’m a bit of a music snob actually).
I love animals (I have a dog, 2 rats, 3 cockatiels and a rescued maniac budgie)
I write.
I sing.
I’m a hypochondraic with bipolar tendencies and a ‘depression’ diagnosis.
I hate cliches.
I have bleached blonde hair which I rarely brush.
I love watching good television when I’m happy and bad television when I’m not.
I hate films which aren’t gloriously escapist.
I couldn’t live without my socks, my cigarettes and my coca cola.
I think everything looks better in leapord print.
I design reconstructed clothing, but can’t work my sewing machine.
I’m a cynical optimist.
I am a submissive (in the murky world of bdsm…but more about that later…)
I read the Guardian (but not enough)
I feed on graphic novels and Bright Eyes (the band, not the film).
I work in a ridiculously crap job.

I wish I had the energy to do all the things I want to do, but this little generation x-er is too whacked out on caffeine and too bittersweet about the over-talented offspring our world has spawned.  Douglas Coupland, Allen Ginsberg and Hunter S Thomson wrote everything I wanted to say, so why the fuck should I bother?