my weekend
Who knew? It could happen to me. I am turning into one of those women who think that is ok for bad things to happen to them. That no one would believe them or help them. I am turning into those women I used to look in disbelief and frustration.
In my head I think the safest way is murder. LOL! Murder? To give someone else so much power over you, to make yourself believe that rotting away in jail is worth it. That is not who I am. I am stronger than other people’s bullshit.
Today I used both locks. On the tube I thought about windows and doors. I thought about the police and what ifs and what next. I am turning myself crazy. It is insane that one person can totally derail me. I thought about destroying his mail and throwing out his things. But that is not who I am. Not who I want to be.
I do not want to be scared, paranoid, stressed out or fragile. I do not want to be negative or victimised. Shit my colleagues are asking what is wrong. Haven’t had my coffee yet I answer.
So I cut myself on Saturday. Missed Quran classes, Friday at Candy bar then Heaven music was shit. The plan was one or two drinks max. That didn’t happen. Alone, didn’t pull dancing about like the drunk manic I was. Fell asleep on Bus 52 walked to the Library waited for another bus with some drunken Englishman trying to get to Fulham. He kept offering me snacks, poor thing. If you are ever in a situation with drunken people pretend you are going to throw up. That tends to keep them at bay.
Anyway I must have had something to eat left the plate on the bed and fell asleep on it. I must have woken up at some point and removed a thick piece of broken plate from elbow. Woke up later with blood soaked mattress and a stomach churning gash.
Still merrily drunk enough to walk into the mid morning sunlight to the chemist. A lovely female Latin pharmacist patched me up. I would like to think I flirted as lightly as a butterfly’s wings.
In my head I think the safest way is murder. LOL! Murder? To give someone else so much power over you, to make yourself believe that rotting away in jail is worth it. That is not who I am. I am stronger than other people’s bullshit.
Today I used both locks. On the tube I thought about windows and doors. I thought about the police and what ifs and what next. I am turning myself crazy. It is insane that one person can totally derail me. I thought about destroying his mail and throwing out his things. But that is not who I am. Not who I want to be.
I do not want to be scared, paranoid, stressed out or fragile. I do not want to be negative or victimised. Shit my colleagues are asking what is wrong. Haven’t had my coffee yet I answer.
So I cut myself on Saturday. Missed Quran classes, Friday at Candy bar then Heaven music was shit. The plan was one or two drinks max. That didn’t happen. Alone, didn’t pull dancing about like the drunk manic I was. Fell asleep on Bus 52 walked to the Library waited for another bus with some drunken Englishman trying to get to Fulham. He kept offering me snacks, poor thing. If you are ever in a situation with drunken people pretend you are going to throw up. That tends to keep them at bay.
Anyway I must have had something to eat left the plate on the bed and fell asleep on it. I must have woken up at some point and removed a thick piece of broken plate from elbow. Woke up later with blood soaked mattress and a stomach churning gash.
Still merrily drunk enough to walk into the mid morning sunlight to the chemist. A lovely female Latin pharmacist patched me up. I would like to think I flirted as lightly as a butterfly’s wings.
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