Game of Thrones is back?!

Posted in I did it for the lols... on April 2, 2012 by starstripe

Whatever. I have a 12-pack of condoms to finish by Friday.


How to save a life

Posted in Mind Ramblings on March 22, 2012 by starstripe

Step one, you say “we need to talk”
He walks, you say “sit down, it’s just a talk”
He smiles politely back at you
You stare politely right on through
Some sort of window to your right
As he goes left and you stay right
Between the lines of fear and blame
You begin to wonder why you came

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

Let him know that you know best
‘Cause after all you do know best
Try to slip past his defense
Without granting innocence
Lay down a list of what is wrong
The things you’ve told him all along
And pray to God he hears you
And I pray to God he hears you

As he begins to raise his voice
You lower yours and grant him one last choice
Drive until you lose the road
Or break with the ones you’ve followed
He will do one of two things
He will admit to everything
Or he’ll say he’s just not the same
And you’ll begin to wonder why you came

Posted in Uncategorized on February 28, 2012 by starstripe

I really fucking hate it when people come onto my boyfriend. It fucks me off to the highest amount of fucking off that is possible. Yes, it’s a little because I usually feel less-than these trollops who are usually thinner than I am. But it’s mostly because, I KNOW WOMEN.

I am a woman. We are devious, bitchy and horrific creatures. I’ve had two men cheat on their long term girlfriends with me, so I am just as bad. I really didn’t give a crap at the time, as I was single, on the rebound, feeling shit about myself and very horny. I had never met these girls, so what the hell was the problem? As Earl will tell you, it’s KARMA. Karma is a bitch. I paid heavily for leaving my first boyfriend for someone else. I paid for it from 2004 to 2008. Four years of absolute horrible heartache.

First, my so-called best friend at the time pounced on my newly single ex that I had left my previous ex for. They are now married and living happily in London together. Then my next boyfriend left me for another woman and they are now about 2 weeks away from becoming parents. I remember he and I always said we would call our first born after his father, Andrew. Doubt he’ll remember that come two weeks time when his girlfriend with the shiny face is pushing out his offspring. And that isn’t even including the four other women he cheated on me with. Karma, you fucking bitch.

Wait though, I was a fucking bitch. I stole someone’s ex a week after he dumped my friend. He also happened to be my ex’s best friend as of a week before that. When I was pretty and good looking, I knew I could get men eating out of the palm of my hand and boy, did I hurt a lot of people. Now that the shit hit the fan for four years, of course I regret it, but at the time, I felt important, accepted and beautiful.

I’ve always had a very fucked up (heh) attitude to sex. And you know what? I am so-not alone. I think most women do. When did you last meet a woman with a healthy attitude to sex, men and relationships?  I used to believe that if a man was willing to see me with no clothes on, with the sight being so disturbing, they must REALLY like me. In reality, it was more the opposite. I got used and I used them too, happily and ignorantly, thinking that I was a better person because I was desirable and my life was like an episode of Melrose Place, minus Heather Locklear.

The point I am trying to make is that, it really bothers me when women chase my boyfriend, because I know what it’s like to be that woman. Low self esteem, hectic image to uphold, inconsolable need for attention and affection. And that need is a pretty strong need and, in all honesty, makes you completely devoid of a soul. I should just sit back and watch and laugh. I should just not let it bother me. But when there are hot chicks (that I think are way hotter and therefore way better and more desirable) that are hell-bent on biffing my boyfriend, of course I am freaked out. My self esteem ain’t great y’know. I don’t think I am particularly valuable at the moment because I find myself repulsive because I am fat.

I put myself in the shoes of said boyfriend and see what the choices are – loose, slutty metal chicks who have perfect figures and are into the same music and social scene as him, and me, who is repulsive and a trance head. I trust him, believe me, but to me, I would pick the slutty metal chicks. And that is so hard to get over.

So, slutty metal chicks, off is the general direction I wish you would fuck. \M/

Inuit Lovers

Posted in Uncategorized on February 21, 2012 by starstripe

Even though we fight

Over silly things

Like photos on Facebook

And past inclings

A thing as simple

As seeing his face

Makes my day over and over

Something I could never replace

Yes, we’re not perfect

And we have our fears

But being with him is the happiest

I have been in many years

He’s pretty much my favourite person

Even though I sometimes shout

He’s encouraged me to be a better person

And his love, I really shouldn’t doubt.

It’s back again

Posted in Uncategorized on January 15, 2012 by starstripe

I’ve always struggled with anxiety. As a kid, I would grow transfixed with some catastrophe; so transfixed that I was crippled with fear, I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t concentrate in school and I couldn’t stop crying. This would go on for about two weeks (it felt like two months), to the point where I was forced to make a resolution of some sort regarding the terrible fear I had of these catastrophies.

Once I accepted that bad things can happen and that there’s nothing I can do about it, I seemed to let the fear go. The three main sources of my worrying were the possibilities that my mother might die, the world might end, or someone would create a tyrannosaurus Rex and set it free in my neighbourhood. I’m not joking.

The mother-dying fear would return for a few days here and there, right to the end of my childhood. I can remember a few times when the anxiety that she might die popped up suddenly, and I had to call her from school and make sure she was alive to feel ok again. I also used to fret about our cats like that.

That all went away once I left high school, but then one day when I was 21, it popped up again, but not about my mother. It was about a boyfriend that everyone warned me against and said that he’d break my heart.

It’s not a fun feeling. Other people who I know say that you can’t understand or know what it’s like unless you’ve been through it. But I have a little more faith in my fellow man, or at least I want faith in them. So I’m going to try to explain what it feels like.

To me, if you were told something terrible was going to happen, and no one knew when, that is a little what it feels like. I’ll elaborate.

Imagine you were told your wife had cancer, or you had a hit placed on you or you had a son on death row. You would think about the inevitable a lot, in fact, even when you weren’t thinking of it, it would still be on your mind. It would never-ever leave you alone. You’d lose your appetite, you’d lose sleep and get behind at work. Take that feeling and you’ve got a pretty good idea.

What’s different from these examples is the build-up. These cases are a shock and wear off-type, but the anxiety that I feel builds up. Anxiety manifests itself through my silly worries where the more I worry, the more I have reason to worry, so I worry more.

I feel a bit like a crazy person sometimes. The places my thoughts take me that are so utterly ridiculous and insane don’t help. The ability to notice 200 threats to my existence in one minute is sometimes overwhelming.

Although I have to say that this time, it is no where near as bad as before. I eat, I sleep and I work, no problem. But a rumble of anxiety is always in my tummy.


Posted in Uncategorized on December 19, 2011 by starstripe

It’s almost 2012.

I’m thinking back over the past year and everything that’s happened. It’s been a year of a lot of changes. New job, a car, a nephew, finally getting over that boy I couldn’t seem to get away from since 2009, finding a new and amazing boy, losing 10kg, gaining 15kg, leaving 12 Step fellowships for good, partying again like a normal person, going on lithium, coming off lithium, having a promiscuous phase, having a celibate phase, seeing three people I know pass on, being loaded, being broke, new friends, leaving old friends… phew. Quite the year.

I’d like 2012 to be a little calmer.

I’d like to stay in the same job, have a great and peaceful relationship with my boyfriend, make new friends, lose 30kgs, get off all meds, not be celibate, not be promiscuous, being ok for Dollars, look after my car, learn guitar, start gymming again, start playing poi to tone up and have fun, go to Afrikaburn in April and last but definitely not least – get some form of self esteem going.


What it feels like

Posted in Mind Ramblings on November 27, 2011 by starstripe
You feel it all the time. Feel it everywhere. It never stops unless you’re asleep. The constant awareness of it is just ALWAYS there. Like a half-drunk cup of coffee; you are always aware that you still have coffee left, even if you’re not specifically thinking of it. The awareness just sits deep in my stomach like a stationary bumblebee; humming and buzzing in the back of my bundle of organs, reverberating my lower body in anxiety and distaste.

I guess that’s why I daydream so much. That’s why I fall asleep experiencing life as I really want to: only through my dreams of being thin again, and not reality. When I have those daydreams and fantasies, I think about what I would wear mostly. I think about how very different my wardrobe would be if I was thin again. I think about how much easier my life would be. Never having to be followed round by that VOICE telling you that this isn’t OK. To be able to sit down and be comfortable, instead of sitting in a way I hope doesn’t make me look concertinaed. Being able to do ANYTHING and not have to worry and fret and feel so ashamed of the fat greasy layer all over me. Let me give and example:

What it’s like to sit down as a fat person:
First: Pull up pants at the back so when you sit your bum crack doesn’t spill out. Also pull up at the front so that your belly doesn’t spill over the front like a water-filled balloon. If you don’t, you’ll get a hideous muffin-top.

Second: Sit down very carefully so your body stays straight. Keep your chin up so you don’t get a fat roll of the jaw. Chest upright so people don’t see your fat-stuffed breasts. back straight so you don’t look like a hunchback, even though you are hunched 24/7.
Third: Hold the chair in place in case your bum overbalances over the side. Start to sit lightly at first, in case the chair collapses under your weight. If you’re not down far enough, you can still save yourself from falling over on your bum if it does collapse. Not being able to save yourself will mean people will see that you have a double chin, your belly, enormous breasts and probably bum crack.
Fourth: Always sit, and I mean always, one of two ways.
1: leaned back in the chair, cross your left knee over your right (for some reason it’s easier to cross to the right). Notice how your legs don’t cross easily. They don’t feel very comfortable crossed, but you have to do it. Even though your leg sticks out at a funny angle, it has to be done. Notice all of the thin people around you with their legs crossed with such ease, the one leg just flopping over the other and hanging next to it like the chimes in a windchime. Hands must always be across your lap, or sometimes hugging yourself to hide fat rolls, which feel as if they’re about to brush the floor. Keep pushing yourself up the chair continously, as your heavy torso pushes down continuously and makes you slide slowly down the chair until you’re almost horizontal.
2: You sit with your bum towards the closest end of the chair so that your legs perch off the seat and they almost feel slightly thinner, as they are hanging and not squished next to eachother. Your back must be completely straight, thus taking out the hunchback look but also helping the double chin and lifting your breasts off your chest. Arms must rest on the table at the elbows, after which they cross in an attempt to hide your enormous sacks of mammary fat. Always keep your arms not touching your body anywhere as it squashes them and makes them look twice the size they are.
Five: Feel uncomfortable. Feel so aware of every single centimetre on your body. How your clothes feel unpleasant against your skin. How you wish so much of your skin didn’t touch other parts of your skin. We’re masters of fooling everyone that we’re not as bad as we look.

These are the best ways to sit. Not comfortable at all, but if you do what is comfortable, you will look like an amoeba, flowing out of the seat. Now, when a person sits down, it takes about five seconds. Imagine what the other 23 hours, 59 minutes and fifty five seconds feel like to a fat person. That type of set up is going through our heads, every second of the day, unless we’re sleeping or daydreaming about a place where our minds can be quiet.