I cannot understand why smoking and alcoholism are both socially acceptable and cutting is frowned upon, when cutting is not more destructive than the former if not less.
Why do I have to give up my coping mechanism for other people who’s uncomfortable by the idea of me doing it? It does not hurt them, and it does not kill me; in fact, it’s one of the thing keeping me alive.
I haven’t stop doing it entirely, but nowadays it has been a once every blue moon kind of occasion.
Why do I have to suffer, to restraint myself from doing the thing helping me the most, just so other people feel better about themselves?
Not one day went through without me thinking about cutting. Not one day.
So why do I have to suffer for them when they didn’t even give me another solution. They take away my coping mechanism, and then expect me not to be depressed without nothing to hold on to. Is that not asking too much from me?
Then to add to my misery, they kept lying to me.
“It’s gonna be ok.”
“You’re beautiful the way you are.”
Why lie? So you would feel better about yourself? Why give me a non-existent hope that would crush me in the end? Why?
I don’t feel I belong anywhere anymore. I don’t want to be in Singapore anymore, yet the idea of me going back home still frightens me.
So where can I go?
Where do I belong?
Please,
Don’t anyone dare tell me I’m depressed because I am not religious, if I have any at all.
Anyone might cringe just by hearing the word cannibalism, let alone learning that there’re people who are actually practicing it. Eating human flesh; sounds barbaric, no? But as I was watching the documentary on the infamous japanese man who ate a girl he claimed he loved, this particular sentence stroked me.
“Isegawa was deeply in love with Renee. His love was so mad that he thought the most he could love her was to eat her.”
I felt that what he said is very familiar. And not even a millisecond went by, I instantly recalled a line from one of my favorite movie, Prozac Nation.
“I understand why people sometimes want to kill their lovers, eat their lovers, inhale the ashes of their dead lovers. I understand that this is the only way to possess another person with the kind of desperate longing that I have to take him inside me.” - Lizzie
Obsession.
It always comes back to this, doesn’t it?
But I’m not sure it’s really love they are talking about. To be that obsessed about something (or rather, someone, in this case), there must be a greater element of lust involved.
I’ve always thought that love is, supposedly, pure; Warm, caring, and secure. Lust, in the other hand, is its wilder, uninhibited counterpart. Passion is what drives human being, and lust and passion does go hand in hand. Love almost always exist with lust, but lust can exist without love (though Alphaville’s Lemmy Caution would disagree with this).
Too much lust and passion can lead to obsession that is sexual in nature. A fixation that might be tame in some but lethal in others. I actually believe in Freud’s Psychosexual development theories. I believe I have what Freud’s called oral fixation. I do like having things in my mouth; it gives a peculiar and unexplainable pleasure. That is why I have a strange relationship with food - and other things I won’t discuss here *ehem*. Those fixation of pleasuring myself with having things in my mouth has became a very mild obsession. It’s harmless to other people (but not to the scale, sadly). For the case of Segawa, it’s definitely not harmless. His obsession with eating his lover is lethal. I mean, who would voluntarily donate his flesh for the other person to eat? He must kill to get what he wants. But his heinous act is not what I want to talk about.
Call me mad, but I somehow could understand how eating somebody is a symbol of one’s madly deep love to one’s lover. We human tend to have a desire to have something only for our own; obsessed to possess, we could say. And when emotional connection become insufficient, and we want to have them whole, body and soul, there really is no other way. Killing them, and devouring their flesh and finally two people literally becomes one. The act of taking someone’s life is all about control, having the control of someone;s life, is that not the ultimate possession of the soul? And then eating their flesh, literally bringing two bodies into one unison.
Without giving any justification of what Segawa did, I would say what he did is a very romantic yet macabre act of passion.
I’ve been watching quite a lot of Toddlers&Tiaras lately, to the point that I could no longer find any T&T episode uploaded in Youtube that I have not watched (and trust me, there’s a lot of them in youtube). It’s sort of a guilty pleasure, really; it has that it-so-bad-that-it’s-good quality to it. I actually got to know the series because of 9gag, and it reminded me of the Jon-Bennet Ramsey case that was discussed in my forensic science course, so I was curious and went to check it out and was hooked from then on.
I think the part that really got me into liking it is, to see (most of) these parents screw up their child and how stupid and shallow they are. It kinda feels good seeing other people screw up their life, makes you just a tiny bit more superior. To think of it, there are a lot of activities that I enjoy because of the same thing. Seeing other videos in youtube of people doing stupid things, voicing my judgments about FPI or other ignoramuses, among other things; they give me some sort of pleasure, and it’s condescending in nature.
It made me realize, how my self-esteem is highly dependent on my judgements of other people and their judgements of me. I feel better about myself when I see someone else that I think it’s “below” me, and feel bad about myself seeing someone that is way superior than me. The same way I feel better about myself when other people give me a good judgment and bad judgments make me feel bad. We do live in a very judgmental society, don’t we?
Is there any possibility that we don’t judge other people, and mind our own business? I doubt that. It’s almost second nature to us. Our parents do it, our school system do it, our friends and family do it, even God do it. But I guess, what differs us is how we voice out (or not voice out) those judgments. Having pre-conceptions about something is almost a certainty, but it’s how we are open to changing our assumptions if they are proven wrong that make us a better person.
I long the day when I don’t have to be so paranoid when people see me eating.
I long the day I don’t want to burn my face off or break the mirror.
I long the day where I don’t judge myself, don’t let other people’s judgment budge me and actually feel good about myself.
*sigh*
*NOTE* the embed video is the craziest episode of T&T, I think. That girl would probably grow up with almost non-existent self-esteem if she keeps living with that high-strung mom of hers.
I think I watched Prozac Nation in late 2010. I actually knew about the existence of the movie since high school. There was this small DVD rental place just next to my school and I saw the DVD case being showcased on one of the display racks. There’s Ricci laying naked on her stomach with a white background for the DVD cover, and I might be biased since I do have a great fondness for her, that picture alone could haunt me and made me regret not lending the movie back then (I don’t even remember the reason I didn’t, such a teenage fool I was).
When I finally watched the movie (in youtube, not the best quality, but the urge to watch the movie was too overwhelming I just had to make do with what is available), I was left a complete wreck. It’s almost like watching myself in there. I’m not saying that we are completely the same, but over and over again I felt a sense of prominent familiarity. I have felt what she felt, I have said what she said, and I have thought what she thought. I could finally see how much of a monster I probably am, and that scared me completely. One thing that is what I could say the biggest different between me and Lizzie is, when she said that depression hits her gradually, and then suddenly.
It’s a bit different with me.
It’s almost like being trapped in a bottomless quicksand, slow but steady, getting sucked in. At first, as if it was just my feet, I thought to myself that of course I’ll get out of this, maybe it’s just a phase that I would soon outgrow. Then I got stuck deeper and deeper, each time it got even harder to even try to escape. When I finally realized that I was trapped, I was already in too deep. Each time I would feel as if I have reached the very bottom, and that it was not possible for me to get any lower than this. But each time life has successfully proved me wrong. I was left nowhere.
Now it’s as if I’m drowning in the deepest, darkest sea with heavy rocks tied to my feet that keeps dragging me down to the unknown abyss. I cannot see the light anymore; I forgot what I was like when I was still on land on my own two feet. I just know that it was not always this bad, that I used to be a little bit happier - at least I think so, and that I used to have hopes and dreams.
I sometime secretly wish that there is actually something to make me stop feeling all this crazy, overwhelming feelings, but at the same time I wish I could finally fill in this insatiable hole in my chest.
How could someone feel too much and also feel empty at the very same time?
I wish I have the answer to that my self.
Ha.
This is the most spontaneous piece I have ever done.
I always draw in pencil first (unless it’s a meaningless doodle, but this is far from meaningless), then trace it in ink and add color, then I’m finish. It’s a long process for only one drawing. But this is 100% impulse. I did not stop to doubt anything, everything flow so naturally. As if possessed, I was not fully conscious when I did this; it’s almost as if I’m in a state of trance.
It came to me in a dream. A girl with gauze covering her bleeding eyes enchanting to herself,
“Everything is beautiful, Everything is beautiful.”
She refuses to see. She refuses to acknowledge the ugly truth. She refuses to know more than she already does.
It haunts me, the image, for 3 days until I could not hold the urge to draw any longer and succumbed to my obsession. As if she herself forcing to come out from my head, demanding to be set free.
It has to be my blood, the tears. It has to be. I tried to reason with her, saying that I have a perfectly good crimson red lipstick that would imitate blood almost perfectly. But she refuses any substitute; using lipstick as blood would just be a beautiful lie. I have to use my own blood.
And so, I did succumb to her desire and break my no-self-harm-ever pact. I now have one cut in my left calve, one cut in my left thumb and several cuts and pokes in the index, middle and ring fingers on my left hand. For the sake of an obsession. For the sake of a dream.
For the sake of the girl who refuses to see.
I just saw this movie.
Such a stunning piece. The perfect depiction of obsession, with a touch of sensual elegance.
The thing about obsession is, it’s a desperate measure to regain the control that we once lost. Without having any grasp of control of our life, we feel so small, so helpless. Hence we hold on to things, to any action that will give a sense of control back, a sense of artificial power. Though in reality we may be fooling ourselves, because our obsession does not make us stronger, it does not make us immune to any undesirable chaos; it makes us more vulnerable.
Obsessing means being controlled.
In Islam there are some rules that you can say unjust, self-righteous or inhumane from a human’s point of view. One of them is this, I say it in a nutshell: “no matter how nice you are but you don’t follow my rules, you’re going to hell” So dictatorlike if you may think, but God is a dictator since he started it all and will end it all. - YA
Someone once said that to me.
Made me wonder what’s the difference between Hitler and the Almighty then?
I used this video as the basis of my HL813 assignment back in 1st year. I was told to discuss about the quote “Cinema is truth, 24 frame per seconds” said by Jean-Luc Godard himself.
This is not the full version of the scene though. Before this, Belmondo was saying that he loves Karina but she’s having a hard time believing him. He said that it is true, that he does love her, but she thinks it’s a lie and then they move on discussing about how to differentiate between truths and lies.
So how does people differentiate between truths and lies? They seem awfully alike, too much for our own good. I do not like being lied to, someone close to me would know that. I get very anxious and paranoid a lot, too scared to be cheated, and because of that my “data-mining” ability is quite reliable (I don’t know whether this is something to be proud of or not).
People lie because it’s easy and convenient, it gets them out of trouble. They lie because the truth would change things, and because the truth is hard to handle most of the time. Sometimes lies do make people happier, that’s why ignoramuses are the happiest of all.
I do have trust issues (But being me, all complex and perplexing, I am also a very gullible being at times - go figure). I can’t trust people that are not close to me, because I would think that they would just lie to be convenient and out of common decency, and I also cannot trust people who are close to me, since they would lie so they won’t hurt my feelings. And I never trust myself, lol, for obvious reasons. *terus saya percaya siapa doong?*
Apa saya percaya Tuhan?
Yes, I do still believe in a higher entity that controls the universe. The God of Order and Chaos, some would say. But I don’t trust a group of people who say that they understand God enough to be able to judge other people. But forget about that, I’m digressing.
I wish I could be ignorant and just believe all the happy, pretty little lies out there, and be content with it; I really wish I could. I wish I don’t think as much as I do now, and I wish I could be less anxious and paranoid about everything.
I wish I could blindly trust someone, when they say they love me.