My first party in 2015.

The title must sound interesting because you’re reading it. Or because you stumbled upon it or cuz ur bored. But it’s true, it’s my first party of the year and I must say I’m pretty early since it’s still the first month and I’m not even used to the numbers 2015 yet.

It was in the capital city of where I live and it was awesome. The only thing about it though…. 50% drag-queens, 50% gays. Great! Right? -_-. The truth is, I didn’t go there because I thought, hey! Lets go out and drink wine with older guys. Which I can’t do because I’m not even 18 yet, but still. I went there as a member of an organisation that stands for LGBT. (note: I am straight ;)) But uhm, it was fun. My ears are half deaf tho, but that doesn’t matter.

We ate a lot of chocolate and saw like 10 to 20 six packs. And no, I am NOT one of those fucking girls that love six packs and muscles. I don’t really care about it that much. I mean yes, sure, it’s hot. But if there’s something I hate, it’s the fact that guys with six packs are fucking show offs. And we all know, show offs dries up my vagina.

Moving on. I had waited for that party to come for me to write a post about it. I guess is has come. And I don’t have anything to write except that it was fun. Like what the fuck. Btw, I think we were the only ones there that were younger than 18. I saw a lot of fat men that smelled of beer. Yeah, ikr, gross.

Today was a good day. I know. Random. But, it was just good. Eventhough I have to learn for this test I have tomorrow (it’s MATH, fucking numbers and x’s and I don’t know what else) For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t like, I wanna die. Because sometimes being a teenager makes you want to die.

Ok. That was it for today. I guess.

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When I run out of ideas, I talk shit.

My posts have been a bit boring lately. Maybe because they contain to much philosophy…. yeah, that’s probably it. I’m not trying to rewrite Sophie’s World in blog style, if you know what I mean.

The truth is, not much has happened with my social life lately. Until this weekend, of course. Than I have a dance party in the big city with a few peeps. It’s gonna be so much fun, and I hope, I can tell you all about it. In 5 minutes I have to go wash the dishes, so I’ll probably publish this later. I don’t like short blog posts, 200 words is a MUST. So I guess we’re not there yet.

I have been kind of grumpy lately. It feels like my emotions are always on PMS-Mode, I just have no fucking idea why. And take my word, I am NOT pregnant. Trust me, I’m still a virgin. So…. now that that’s out-of-the-way. We can start talking about my sex life now. Ha ha ha, oops, there isn’t one. -_- There is only one life, and that’s my life right now, and I’m drowning in my pool of misery. So it won’t be long before I completely die but wake up again just like Meredith Grey.

I realize now that my social life is a complete trainwreck. I really should get out more. I don’t know, do something with my life. Get a job that does not include me pushing a newspaper through a mailbox every Sunday. Something in a building that’s actually fun. But of course, over my dead body, I will not babysit any kind of human being. Fuck no. I can’t stay in a room with a crying baby for more than 5 minutes, let stand tucking them into bed. Ugh. Besides, I might get murdered by the owners. (Seriously, haven’t you read the Babysitter series by R. L. Stine? Lets not talk about my nightmares in the 5th grade >.<)

Wow, I just found out that you can schedule a post. I mean SCHEDULE? This is awesome. I’m gonna schedule this for tomorrow (20/jan).

Wait a sec– Gotta go. The dishes. Brb. <– Be Right Back, for the anti-socials 😉

And I’m back. I really did go away. But now I don’t have anything more to say.  Besides that I in this new group for a project and there is a guy here who seriously has psychological problems. Or he’s horny, whatever. All I know is that he told us how his balls were stuck between his legs last Saturday and he couldn’t walk for half an hour.

Wauw… tmi.

Bubbles

Today I wanna talk to you guys about something called metaphors. We all know what it is, or what it means. John Green wrote a whole book about it and even made a fucking movie based on that book. But it’s not like all his other books weren’t about metaphors. It almost seems like it’s the only thing the man talks about in his books.

Anyway, if you don’t understand what it means, please go look it up. I’m not gonna spend 20 words explaining something because you have a bad vocabulary list. Moving on, the reason that I have decided to write about this subject is because I stared at my blank screen for a fucking 15 minutes and this is the only thing I can come up with. Why do I need to explain myself to you? I write about metaphors because I can. Yeah. From now on I have to stop explaining myself.

So. Metaphors. I have one that I have used my whole life to explain to people what I am made of (mentally, because if it was physically I would be made of meat and blood and bones. And a whole lot of other shit but this is not a Biology class). The metaphor, I am made of bubbles. That’s all there is of me. Bubbles, more bubbles, more layers and eventually, inside all the fucking layers, in the center is the original me. A little baby pink pea. Soft and delicate. But these layers, they have grown so thick over the years that they have become me. I can’t even see the pea anymore.

Let me tell you this. Every single human being on this Earth has layers. They’re your limit. What you can take and what you can’t. Even you not liking mushrooms or mustard are layers, protecting you from vomiting. But that’s more of a physical layer (again, NOT BIO-CLASS). My layers are kind of difficult to recognize, I might say. I come off as a total bitch, and I mean this. I am a fucking bitch.

But that’s just my layer. It’s my first layer actually. It’s the one I made a few years back when the layer beneath that one (silence) didn’t work anymore. Why? But why Eliza, do you need so much layers? Well. I don’t like people. They are mean, and bad, and selfish, and cruel, and heartless. And tbh they kind of scare me. So if I come off as a bitch, they know that they shouldn’t come in my way. They’ll be gone before I know it and I don’t ever have to deal with them again.

I feel like a coward. But I’d rather be a coward than hurt. I have been hurt so many times, you don’t wanna know. I don’t need anymore pain in my life right now. Yeah, I might make excuses for what I feel. The truth? I’m scared. Okay? I’m shitting my pants thinking about relationships and marriage and even friendship. Ugh.

I used to be that girl. Shy, never said anything, no one ever knew who I was. And I guess I’d like to be that girl again. I’d rather be the one who no one knows than the one being called bitch. But the silence one doesn’t work anymore. And I have to make this layer so much stronger to hold me together.

I don’t think anyone knows how the pea is. I assume that it’s soft and fragile, but I don’t know for sure. How could I know how it’s like? For so long, fucking 10 years I have made up and put up the layers. It has been a long time since I took a sneak peek beneath the layers. And after all these years, I lost the balls to do it. Because I probably can’t hold all my shit together when it happens, when my bubbles are gone.

It’s a shitty fact, but it’s true. I don’t even know who I am anymore.

I don’t wanna close this blog off with a philosophical quote. So, peace out, suckers 🙂 I’ll see you later, I guess. Unless I die. Not from suicide, trust me. I don’t have the balls to do it. But from a car accident? Perhaps. Who knows? Only Death does. He’s the one who comes to get me.

I have been lying….

to you guys. When was it again when I said I would post when something fun happens? Or when things happened? Probably about 2 weeks ago. And a lot of shit had been going down ever since. But everything was basically school related…. so I thought, nah. Fuck school.

On the 13th of January, Britt turned 15. Who is Britt, you might ask. Well, she is… a friend. I kind of consider her as a friend even though every time she opens her mouth I hear: “Hit me, hit me now. I’m being really annoying.” And I might have a talent for being melodramatic, but this girl, oh. She’s just annoying as fuck. And I know that when we don’t go to school together anymore, I would never bother to ask her how she’s doing. Because the truth is, I don’t give a fuck.

Forgive me God for I have sinned …. — I didn’t know you were religious? Only when I don’t want karma to bite. But seriously, do I have to call her a friend now? It’s not like she’s a bitch, cuz she’s not. Britt is pretty nice actually, but URGHH she tries to be funny but she’s not. And, I don’t know, the way her brain works just makes me wanna put my head in the oven. (btw, Olivia hates her even more than I do. I just don’t know why.)

Anyway, sorry for the outburst about Britt. I just needed that.

My life is actually good now, for the first time in a loooongg time, I feel like I am in control. I control my life. Not the other way around. And it feels GOOD. My agenda for January? I have to buy a onesie (primark) for the party of Nick (Olivia’s bae) and on the 25th I have this elite party in the big city with 4 other people. What else…. Not much really.

I feel like I’m hiding things by not telling them to you guys. As if I’m lying, holding something back. Which technically, I am. But I just wanna take it slow. So don’t expect me to reveal my dirtiest secrets within a month. I’ll tell when I’m ready. Also, I have been thinking about this. Wouldn’t it be nice if I just talk about normal things now? Because I know for a fact that none of you will like it when I’m feeling sorry for myself when writing all the trauma’s I’ve been through.

Ugh. Dilemmas dilemmas.

I am rambling about M.

I have a total of 117 visitors in 12 days of blogging. I consider that a good thing, since the last blog… well… lets not talk about that. Anyway, this means that I have an average of 10 people on my blog per day. TEN PEOPLE. It feels good to know I make a difference in 10 people’s lives. 10 souls…

Anyway, cut with the deep talking crap. Let’s focus on the real deal here. So there is this guy at my school…. I KNOW I KNOW, SHUT UP. It’s typical, always the guy. Take my word, this is NOT the same. I am most certainly not in love with him. Fuck no. Been there. Done that. I’m over it.

But…. I don’t know how to explain this. It’s weird. I don’t love him like I should, like most girls do. But it’s not like he’s the typical either. Yeah he’s handsome and probably nice and special. But it’s more than that.

I have tried to explain this to my friends. They just think I’m crazy and obsessed. I call myself obsessed to… not in a creepy stalker way. Nah. But… lemme explain it to you. So I am a black and white person. If you know what I mean. For me, everyone is either black or white. There is no in between. But he is just… gray. And I just can’t figure it out, I JUST FUCKING CAN’T and I NEEEED SOMEONE that can explain this shit to me because I obviously can’t.

He is so gray. He fucking fucked with my black and white theory. He’s not talking to me, it almost seems like he ignores me. I guess that part was my fault. But it’s so sad to see him. I see him walking through the hallway, being all cool with his friends. All badboy and player and stuff.

But I know who he is. He tries so hard to be good. Good at school, good at everything. It doesn’t always work. Michael had issues, I don’t know what they are. I know they’re fucking serious though. Always putting up a good front, but always be there to help others. Michael cares way too much and he’s trying to hide it. He does it pretty well also, but no one appreciates it. No one cares. No one sees him.

But I do. I see him.

What now?

Written in a hurry, part 2.

My apologies that I did not post anything for the past few days. I feel so fucking guilty now, but for my defense, blame my school for my absence. It wasn’t my fault.

To make amends, I’m going to write a little about everyday for you to enjoy. And for the next time, I will try to post at least 1 time in 2 days. Or else I’m a plain bitch and I don’t deserve this shit.

Wednesday: That was just a boring day. Rachel found a condom in her fathers closet. Well, not just one. More than one. She gave me one that said: Extra thin. I guess some men like to come faster than others ^.^ I hanged at her house and we ordered food. Then she went back to my house and we stalked this guy on What’s app.

After that she slept over and we fell asleep around 5 A.M. But school didn’t start until 10.30 the next day so it wasn’t like we had 2 hours to sleep. My PE teacher had a knee operation, so bye-bye PE. This was one of those moments when I was like, I feel sorry for you, but fuck that because I feel more sorry for myself every time I have to throw a basketball.

Thursday: Oef. This wasn’t a fun day either. As in, nothing fun happened! Tbh I can’t even remember what the fuck happened on Thursday. Except school.

Friday: Which was yesterday. There was this fucking annoying girl in my project group. We had to divide the roles for a play, and she didn’t want the lead. Than she almost began to weep and cry and felt sorry for herself. For those people who don’t want the lead but have to because everyone else already chose other roles (this is fair, the first one who picks gets. Very democratic, so what the fuck is she complaining about?), I would say, SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LEARN TO LIVE WITH IT. It’s not like you will die or get hated by the whole school OVERNIGHT just because you have the lead role in some stupid play.

UGH. I HATE these kinds of people. They’re so whiny and fucking annoying.

Anyway, I think I’m rambling.

Tomorrow I will tell you about this guy. I know, I know, GUYS. But come on, the truth is, when it came to the girls  there is ALWAYS a guy. And same story here with me. It’s just a little more complicated than cheating, break up, exes, stay friends, don’t work, leftover feelings.

No… it’s more like, in love, pain, pain, pain, pain, never together, ignoring and avoiding each other in the hallways. Yeah, that sounds more like it. NO EYE CONTACT.

This is when I come out of my bed to get breakfast.

 

Written in a hurry.

So I had school today. Like I said in my previous post. There is sooo much to tell, like a freaking lot. Because school had been half of my life and it’s the place where everything happens.

Right now I’m staring at the screen. Where the hell to begin? It’s like a fucking pyramid, all sides look the same >.< Let me start off by saying that I am totally NOT a drama queen. And what you might be reading next is a bit, uninteresting?

Anyway, today I’m going to tell you about this thing called friendship. When I was little I used to love to have friends. Make friends, be with friends, hang with friends, whatever that contained the words “friends” I did it. When looking back, I was a freaking idiot. Or innocent, whatever, same thing.

When I grew up I made friends, but they didn’t always stay my friends. Instead, they become these Bitches and ditch me like garbage. It’s cruel and it’s getting fucking annoying. Afterwards I think, I was such a retard. I was an idiot. Why didn’t I think about it first. EVERY FUCKING TIME. Ugh. So, when everybody says why don’t you have friends? Be more social? I tell them to fuck off because I hate people. And now I have to go to sleep, because school tomorrow. Sorry for this short post. Talk to u tomorrow, promise.

PS: I’m that idiot that published this post as a page and had to delete that.

The truth behind this blog.

My friend Rachel is creating a blog as of right now. The copycat.

I created this blog for a reason. I wanted to stay fucking anonymous and just blog everything about my life. Just blog it out. Like with writing. Only with viewers along the way. And if someone finds out who I am, I might take this blog to the private level.

The truth is written on this blog. My truth. And I have realized that the world doesn’t appreciate the truth. They’d rather want a fake story, a make-believe. As long as it sounds good in their ears and they don’t have to worry about it, as long as they want to believe in the lie they have created they’re just fine.  Fuck human beings who do that. It’s fucking annoying.

I just need to blog it all out. Everything, every detail of my life. SOMEONE on this fucking Earth NEEDS to know the truth!!! So you guys are the only ones who know the truth. Or will get to know it. Maybe you shouldn’t be. But I’ve made my decision. There is no way in hell I’m giving them the satisfaction to humiliate me. So fuck me I’m I sound like a secret keeping brat.

Someone needs to know.

Unplanned blogpost.

I’ve just decided to make a blogpost today for your reading pleasure even though I didn’t plan to post one today. Why not? Well, I have got a shit-ton of things to do. But I won’t tell you all about it, because it’s mainly homework and that sucks.

What I will tell you tho, is this stupid thing. I have had nightmares for the past week. And believe it or not, they are all about school. I think my anxiety is coming back. Fuck my life, right? Why can’t I just let it go? I made a mistake and now everyone hates me. It’s fucking karma. And yet I worry every night. Karma is a bitch. But karma is fair.

I realize that this isn’t a fun post. Sorry. Oh, I totally forgot to mention. I booked myself 2 parties this year. One (January) in which there are loads of people. Nick added me to the chat group yesterday, they are really fun people! The other one (May) in which we’re all going to get waisted. But in the mean time, I need to find more parties. If the whole school hates me, I need to find a life besides and outside of school. It’s on my New Years To Do list. Don’t judge!!

I’m going to eat breakfast now. Stand by.

 

My fake ex-boyfriend.

Yesterday, when we all ate breakfast at Eva’s house, Rachel wondered how duo Nutella tasted like. I told her to try, which she did. But that is not the point. The duo Nutella made me remember something from a long time ago. Before I start reminiscing my life, let me just note that I damn heavily dislike duo chocolate pasta.

It was 100 degrees on that summer evening. I was only 10 by then, and me and my friend went to the nearest supermarket. His name was Luke, he was the boy next door. Literally. Blond hair, blue eyes, cute face. Me and my only friend from that time (Stacy) used to bitch about him. Which of us would get the boy? I just found my match, she said the first time they met. His mother asked us if we’d seen a white cat running around, and we helped her search for it. No result, only that Luke came into picture.

That day, he picked me up at my house and told me if I wanted to buy toothpaste with him. I did. Who cared about the toothpaste, I cared about him. We eventually ended up in the waiting line with toothpaste and duo chocolate pasta and he told me to go wait outside. I said I didn’t want to even though the corridor was really narrow. Outside, he said: “Shit. I remembered my mother can’t eat the duo. She’s going to kill me.”

I remember putting a hand on his shoulder and said something along the lines of: “Awww.” I apparently looked really worried because one second later he laughed and told me it was a joke. I gave him an elbow in his ribs and he kissed my forehead. I think you can all guess that he was my boyfriend. (he didn’t kiss my forehead, I only said that because it sounded cuter!!)

The truth is, he wasn’t. We hanged out together like all day long. The whole day in school, I couldn’t wait to come home to pick him up. Sometimes, he was already waiting for me on my front porch. It went on like that for almost a year. And then, it just stopped. He didn’t come outside to play anymore. He didn’t wait for me on the porch. We hardly ever spoke again.

Years later, when I tell people about him, I say he was my ex. Just for the sake of having one, since he was the only thing close to a boyfriend I ever had. But he wasn’t. He never asked if I wanted to be his girlfriend. I know he wanted to tho, he just didn’t have the guts to tell me. How did I know he liked me for more than just friends? Stacy, of course. She was really pissed when informing me that she and Luke had a heart to heart the day I visited my grandparents and wasn’t home the entire day. She told me that he wanted to ask me out, but he was afraid that I only wanted to stay friends. I guess he knew about Stacy telling me that, because short after, I never got to hang with him ever again.

Looking back, the 9 months with Luke were the best ones of my life. I’ve never looked forward to see anybody, ever. But I didn’t miss him like I should. I missed our friendship. That’s all.