There are days like yesterday that still feel like today and spill over on to the next. There are days like now which won't start until I wake up, and days that won't end until I collapse.
Today has been particularly stressful though; I can't leave the house because I feel too much. I have a few drinks to try and regulate everything; a carlsberg, a bit of wine usually goes further for me than most other people. Its great; you can feel it. There's a hit each time that increases with intensity, that provides an inner warmth that continues to burn brighter and brighter; so long as it is fuelled. And that distraction, that feeling of grabbing another is just a temptation I can't stop submitting to. At times like now, I know that the quantity is making me ill; headaches, nausea, a pervading dread, weakening organs and a sickening feeling that I know it can't and won't last forever.
And that is exactly when I think: 'I don't have to do this anymore'.
Apparently, thats the first step of freedom. What a load of shit; that thought flits about my brain like a moth to a flame. Eventually it gets consumed and turns to dust, but returns later on. And another.
And another.
And another.
And another.
Everything seems far away; emotions, motivation, victory. Feelings can quickly come to the fore in almost nuclear outbursts. Its like I'm recklessly slashing a sword to cut through anything that strays into my path knowing fine right I'll be suffering recoil damage. Knowing somewhere at the heart of intoxication I'll regret it.
But thats the thing about feeling like someone else; you aren't you. You don't want to feel like you; I want to be the bottle, and I want to be empty.
Showing posts with label emotions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label emotions. Show all posts
Tuesday, 2 July 2013
Monday, 24 June 2013
The 'L' Word
I've never experienced love and it scares me that so many people I know to throw it round like a basketball. They know they have conviction in their passt, but I'm worried eventually I'll have to catch the ball and expect to score a goal. Exactly. It feels that overwhelming. I could be in the middle of the court, I could be near the goal, but scoring that basket feels like a very epic battle for me.
My feelings have always been under question since they fluctuate on a whim, almost uncontrollably. They can hover over me like an umbrella; trying to shield me from all the piss that flies out of everyone's mouths and sometimes flood my insides like a deluge of drowsiness.
I mean, What am I supposed to do if someone utters that word before me and I'm not there? Perhaps that word is just something that is relative to each person - each feeling can never be exactly replicated for another. For example, I love my parents so much, and some of my friends so much too. In different ways. Maybe that is the way too. But if someone says it to me and I don't feel it, or don't think I do, have I fucked everything up?
Its a constant anxiety because for me, someone to love me would be perfect. If someone can look me in the eye and tell me that they will be there for me through good and bad, it would make me ecstatic. And happy. Then low. Then angry. It would be like spinning a wheel of fortune and everything thrown at someone at once. I'm worried. God, I'm fucking worried that I would just ruin it. It would make me feel far too much to be able to cope with it. I don't want to love someone if I'm just going to burden them with an explosion of emotions that I'm unable to contain.
I guess that's why I'm attracted to the idea of sacrifice. Like Jean Grey, or Jesus... I guess I wonder whether I'm going to have relinquish that kind of intimacy so that I can exist like a relatively normal human being, and so I can't hurt anyone, or so I can save everyone from a potential self-destructive downward spiral.
But isn't that something that is in love? Hurt? How do we love if we don't accidentally inflict pain upon someone? I've been hurt a lot, but I still don't know the diametrical opposite. I don't know what its like. People ask me if I have ever been in love, mainly because I've slept with a lot of guys and frankly, I haven't. I just feel self-depreciated and dried up. I'm worried that I'll simultaneously fall in love and live in solitary confinement for the rest of my days.
Love. Its a scary word. Its not 'lovely'. It fucking scares me so much. So fucking much.
Friday, 5 April 2013
"There Is No Cruelty Without The Beast"
One of the first times I tried to 'speak' to one of my characters I decided to tap in to something that I was barely experienced in; a ouija board. Some people out there will consider my decision stupid or irresponsible, but I was more concerned with trying out a novel technique then the lurking dangers of the supernatural. I'm not one who believes in ghosts or phantoms, in fact I've never had any experience with that kind of phenomena. So I gathered a bunch of my friends and we set out to try and find one of my characters.
It didn't yield any kind of result; we lit candles, got a board and a cursor and started to play. I thought of it as a game; an innovative and interactive ploy to create a character, but after half an hour of everyone not taking it seriously I decided to leave it, so we said 'goodbye' to 'hedgehog' who wanted 'Emily's boobs' and I never touched it again. In retrospect, it just wasn't going to work and I would just go with my original plan.
After a while I finally concocted an idea that was born out of cruelty; a character rich in decadence, pleasure, sensations and rage and although then it felt I was pulling the strings, it was merely the other way around. Character's are born out of us; we give them a face, characteristics, hobbies... But what we constantly forget, or ignore, is that they can manifest themselves in dangerous ways and not only on the page. I noticed this when I started to write the character of 'Salome' for a possible novel idea and found that she was trying to break out of the confines I had placed her in.
As Wolverine says in the (not-so-great) film X-Men 3: "When you cage the beast, the beast gets angry". They find a conduit in which to hate, they begin to obsess over ways to find their own way out of their situation but once they break free, they don't know what to do. I found when my emotions were unstable or life was difficult, I would mirror some of the traits of my character or ask myself, what would she do in this situation? And that is where I began to become my character more then I expected.
I based her on the anger and hatred that human beings feel when it is left to fester. I think everyone, even if they do not actively hate, have had this feeling at some point in their lives and I know I definitely have. Its dangerous to feel that way because its so powerful and absorbing and once it starts, it needs to stop as soon as possible; hate is a nihilistic emotion that ends with nothing but malice and misery. When we find motive and reason and pleasure within this negativity it begins to form, almost, a personality of its own. Like Voldemort splitting his soul to render himself immortal, we feel the need to do the same just to survive. But it needs energy and fuel to keep on thriving and so we nitpick, or target. We use every inch of our body, exhaust ourselves to try and satiate an almost unlimited force.
We've all done this before and once we stop and look back, we realise how obsequious we have been. Our actions, though deplorable, need to be justified one way or another by ourselves just to try and reason with the side of us that is no longer static, but transient and faded. We kill ourselves a tiny bit and end up monsters.
What do we have to left to go back to though, when we discover this? How can we return to how we feel when we've been pushed to breaking point with our emotions? Do we deserve it? Can we ever redeem ourselves? - I'm not so sure. I wish I could answer this myself because its a question that I've been asking myself for so long.
I remember reading The Satanic Bible by Anton LaVey and his experience with christians: "On Saturday night... I would see men lusting after half-naked girl dancing at the carnival, and on Sunday morning... I would see those same men sitting in the pews with their wives and children, asking God to forgive them..." - Once we are in the cycle is it possible to break free? Can we relent the forces control of us and stop the cycle? If not, what levels of degenerance will we slip to and how long will we fall before we hit the ground?
How far do we fall before we can't even forgive ourselves?
It didn't yield any kind of result; we lit candles, got a board and a cursor and started to play. I thought of it as a game; an innovative and interactive ploy to create a character, but after half an hour of everyone not taking it seriously I decided to leave it, so we said 'goodbye' to 'hedgehog' who wanted 'Emily's boobs' and I never touched it again. In retrospect, it just wasn't going to work and I would just go with my original plan.
After a while I finally concocted an idea that was born out of cruelty; a character rich in decadence, pleasure, sensations and rage and although then it felt I was pulling the strings, it was merely the other way around. Character's are born out of us; we give them a face, characteristics, hobbies... But what we constantly forget, or ignore, is that they can manifest themselves in dangerous ways and not only on the page. I noticed this when I started to write the character of 'Salome' for a possible novel idea and found that she was trying to break out of the confines I had placed her in.
As Wolverine says in the (not-so-great) film X-Men 3: "When you cage the beast, the beast gets angry". They find a conduit in which to hate, they begin to obsess over ways to find their own way out of their situation but once they break free, they don't know what to do. I found when my emotions were unstable or life was difficult, I would mirror some of the traits of my character or ask myself, what would she do in this situation? And that is where I began to become my character more then I expected.
I based her on the anger and hatred that human beings feel when it is left to fester. I think everyone, even if they do not actively hate, have had this feeling at some point in their lives and I know I definitely have. Its dangerous to feel that way because its so powerful and absorbing and once it starts, it needs to stop as soon as possible; hate is a nihilistic emotion that ends with nothing but malice and misery. When we find motive and reason and pleasure within this negativity it begins to form, almost, a personality of its own. Like Voldemort splitting his soul to render himself immortal, we feel the need to do the same just to survive. But it needs energy and fuel to keep on thriving and so we nitpick, or target. We use every inch of our body, exhaust ourselves to try and satiate an almost unlimited force.
We've all done this before and once we stop and look back, we realise how obsequious we have been. Our actions, though deplorable, need to be justified one way or another by ourselves just to try and reason with the side of us that is no longer static, but transient and faded. We kill ourselves a tiny bit and end up monsters.
What do we have to left to go back to though, when we discover this? How can we return to how we feel when we've been pushed to breaking point with our emotions? Do we deserve it? Can we ever redeem ourselves? - I'm not so sure. I wish I could answer this myself because its a question that I've been asking myself for so long.
I remember reading The Satanic Bible by Anton LaVey and his experience with christians: "On Saturday night... I would see men lusting after half-naked girl dancing at the carnival, and on Sunday morning... I would see those same men sitting in the pews with their wives and children, asking God to forgive them..." - Once we are in the cycle is it possible to break free? Can we relent the forces control of us and stop the cycle? If not, what levels of degenerance will we slip to and how long will we fall before we hit the ground?
How far do we fall before we can't even forgive ourselves?
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