Except this time, they’re from Muslims.
We’re halfway through Ramadan and I can’t tell whether it’s going really fast or really slow. It’s harder, I cannot lie. I am but a shell of myself, a zombie going into work with shit skin and minimal words. I see everything 3 seconds after it actually happens.
I think I wrote something last year-ish about questions I’ve heard during Ramadan in general. I’ve grown up since then. I’m older, wiser, angrier. Very impatient. I have no time for ignorance and stupid people, and the more time I spend on twitter, watching the influx of 17-21 year olds spew their bullshit, I’m seeing more ridiculous opinions and lack of education. Lack of self-awareness. Lack of consideration. Kids these days really look for any reason to be offended – it’s like they enjoy the idea of being oppressed, they get a kick out of being controversial for no reason. I feel like an old angry lady waving her stick around at the children outside for being too loud. But in my old age and wisdom, I’ve also learnt to be much more tolerant. I know, it sounds so ironic given my impatience. But I’m more forgiving, less judgemental; I adopt more of a ‘let people be’ stance. So let people be. Except people who stay stupid things.
Yes, hello. I am back after > a two month long hiatus with an embarrassing story for you, because we’re all guilty of a bit of schadenfreude and I wanna make you happy.
It finally happened to me, my worst gym nightmare. I did fall off the treadmill. I was sprinting, got distracted by my falling phone, lost my step, and was flung backwards.
Yes, in hindsight I should have said bun the phone and stopped first, but I did not. I decided to be a big man and look where it got me? With a fat scar on my chin.
Shit happens. And it will happen to you.
It will happen to you. It will definitely happen to you. Especially when you think it never will. So firstly:
When will someone nominate me for the Worst Blogger award?
The devil really is locked up because I’ve just written a blog post after two months of nothing. Not a single word.
I guess I’m supposed to include an update of my life here, except I’m not going to because when do I ever do that? Also I’m yawning and my eyes hurt and I’m sick. If you want to see me rant, my twitter is available for you to view all the thoughts I could and should have kept to myself. I’m at a weird point in my life, though. Super inspired but super unmotivated. Super happy, but super nonchalant. Super ready to be an adult, but.. yeah. In a weird limbo where the pieces of my puzzle are just hovering above me, waiting for me to give them the go ahead to just drop into place. Not yet tho, I’m not done being a fuck up.
I’m not worried, though. My skin is shit, but I’m not worried. My life isn’t any better on paper at all, but in my head, it’s all rosy. My mental health was suffering last year, and anxiety is now but a distant memory. It’s weird to think that I had a prescription for antidepressants that I, thankfully, didn’t collect. I went to a gig alone. I cut my hair. I give people chances. I now go with my gut instead of overanalysing every little thing. I say yes more. I say no more. I’m a whole other person. And I wanna tell you how I did it, starting with this post.
Happy New Year, I say in the middle of January.
I was AWOL for a long, long time. A time in which I rapidly grew, though sadly only in mind, and not in height, but it’s alright because I made up for that by buying platforms in the sales. I suddenly had a bunch of shit to talk about but I realised I can’t really shitpost before talking about the new year because that would be a real debbie-downer way to start 2018 off. So, here I am, telling you that NEW YEAR NEW ME, except not really because I started doing all this in about November last year. You know why? Because I’m a stubborn mule and I didn’t want to say I changed on January 1st.
But anyway, I found these big ass notebooks on the clearance shelf in WHSmith and it really inspired me to get my shit together, especially because, being the hoarder I am, I bought two and had to justify doing so. The first post I wrote was, of course, my new years resolutions – which are different from my 2018 goals, so watch this space. The good thing about these resolutions is that, ignoring the last one, they can be taken on board by pretty much anyone. Hope you consider these cos I’m on the path to complete wellness and hope you can join me on this wild ride xxxxxxxxxx
Welcome to my night time, coffee-fuelled shit talking post. I haven’t done one of these in a while, but if you’re new to my blog, know that these are probably the most honest and raw posts I’ll ever write. That’s why they’re rare. Sometimes it’s in the form of poetry, other times, like now, it’s just word vomit. I don’t edit these. It’s the time where I’m wired but also tired, and when I’m listening to my night time songs.
One weird thing I’ve been called is ‘strong’. Strong because I can let things go, strong because I can stand by my beliefs, strong because I don’t fall for every guy that talks to me. I don’t know. I don’t know if I like being called strong, because there are certain expectations that come with that label. Am I allowed to cry? Am I allowed to fight for a guy who doesn’t give a shit? Am I allowed to have panic attacks? Am I allowed to be too nervous to walk into a crowded place sometimes?
Because I do all of those things too. And sometimes, that label gets in the way.
I’m honestly sitting here trying to ignore the dull pain occurring in my arm right now, so here I am, having already failed at Blogtober, with another post.
So, girls and guys, we all know that unrequited anything is horrible, it’s a bitch, it’s the worst. Unrequited love, unrequited hatred, unrequited anything. I’m going to tell you what to do after being confined to the dreaded friendzone, or, more broadly, how to get over someone you never really had.
In all honesty, I don’t like guys. Let me clarify: I’m very much heterosexual, but it’s hard for me to like people. I’m not saying I have super high standards, I’m saying that in my entire 22 years I haven’t really liked liked people. In school, I was never interested in guys or relationships and I would shut down any flirting straight away because the guys around me were lame. I’m not head over heels about anyone at the moment, except Bill Skarsgard obv, and I don’t really interact with men (or anyone). So considering that, you’d better believe that if I like you, it’s a miracle. So if I know I could get over being friendzoned, so can you.
Now, you might read that and wonder why I would even consider giving relationship advice, but despite my lack of experience, people always wish they had listened to me sooner. I think a contributing factor is that I’m extra careful (cough – anxiety) and it’s not worth getting hurt over someone that way. I’m not hugely familiar with the whole confessing-your-undying-love-and-being-rejected thing because that would mean multiple instances of having undying love and then confessing it, but know that I definitely know how to deal with it.
So, here’s what to do when you’re thrown in the friendzone of somebody you’re madly in love with (or just crushing on):