Vomit.
No I haven't puked in such a long time its insane. With the nausea running through my body and settling in the pit of my stomach there's not much to do but to yank i tall out- mentally at least. I have eaten too much shit since 9pm, a toast, coco pops, tuna salad, pasta, wafer rolls...... get out already.

Perhaps the nausea is like an old friend, like, say, Mr. Depression that likes to crash over at my place every Tuesdays and Fridays crawl under my blanket and cuddle ,Mrs. Nausea is just an introduction,or perhaps a blend of every emotion Im capable of obtaining. All at once. Mostly those emotions could be shown as fear, even though  Mrs. Nausea is too strong to let them show, only this low depressive blue nausea, thats what have become of these fears. there once existed the fear of growing up. The fear of staying young. The fear of falling behind. The fear of being under educated. The fear of being dumb-fully over educated. the fear of wasting wrinkle free years. the fear of not having a reason to wake up. The fear that my choices are yet to be made. The fear of the monsters under my bed, over my shoulder, behind my scalp, inside my brain. The fear of losing things I dont even own. Now they are Nausea because I ate  them all up.

Id be lying if I said I wasn't praying for some reason to fall into my tired hands, a reason that would make  this life pure and important. All i keep getting is people being bombed , girls being raped and boys being sent to war in diapers. Well, now, tell me this is something to look forward to?

----
 Not much happened today, I went to the mall with E. Whose company is pretty legit these days because she needs me and I cant really object after whats been done to her. My vow of keeping  them out is now broken because the minute I left that house troubles started clutching to its every feature and every soul and only I, I the ghostly , I, stayed numb with no control over this trip.
----
Mat

p.s- I might be working as a waiter but then again how am I going to fit that in?!? too soon to talk much?

Tomorrows qualities.

I don't want to reveal much about my day today, not that it was a bad day or anything, it was rather a day filled with about 6 bus rides (this is the new happiness scale?) and a sappy movie about hipsters that is too mainstream  for actual hipsters to watch but I didnt care as long as Im out of the house and in fair company. I'll cut to the chase.

While browsing for good Internet reads (apparently no one is actually writing interesting things, please dig into your souls and start writing so I will never ever have to come to this stage again) I came across this hasty sentence about something I dont quite recall but it made me think I should write something of the same manner about how I'd like tomorrow to be. This makes sense in my mind, I swear.

Tomorrow

10:30- sun doesnt interfere with my rhythm nor do I over sleep till noon. This is the start point of my day. The cold breeze brings upon me the desires of winter, even though winter isnt due till a couple of months here (Say, in Chili it is winter now! -eg-) a boy can only dream. The wind is tickling my toes and I grab for the   blanket in nostalgic motion. After 15 minute of mind control and internal propaganda, I sigh and lift my legs up in the air and in a vicious gesture I hop out of bed and down the hall to the bathroom.

11:45 "yes?" I say.
"Mathew, dude, we are starving move your lazy ass" Anne squeaks with dramatic pain into the phone.
" what, you didnt eat anything at all?" I questioned her.
"no, man, remember this is breakfast we are talking about, I'm not going to eat breakfast twice, then it wont be breaking my fast, moron"
"I'll be there in 5... wait make it 10" I'm always late, I buy myself some time and she hangs up like she usually does, without any goodbyes.

11:58
Anne and Charlie are in the bus stop wearing coats and boots, they wave for me to start running but its grey outside and all I want to do is just enjoy the coldness. The second I set foot on the booth the bus makes a halt and signals us to jump in. We do so, pay the driver and take a seat. Me and Charlie sit in our usual spot and Anne is faced our way on the opposite seat in front of us. We talk about everything and laugh a lot. We always have so much to talk about the three of us.

12:38
Jogging our way to the train , running because its about to leave without us.

13:15
We take off into the city air. Wow. Amazing.
" Charles," she always calls him Charles.
"Shall we go on and eat our Breakfast?" she continued.
" What about me?" I protest.
" You loser made me fast, you may come but only as our Family dog which we love but neglect on a daily basis" she answers joking.
" Yeah, Mat, its Lunch already" Charlie agrees.
" where should we go?" I ask.
" Um Pakin?" he answers looking over to Anne.
" what the same Chinese again?"
"you have a better idea?" he lifts his eyebrows like he usually does.
"I just wanted to see you sweat it, apparently you dont even care !" I joke
" Shut up,Pekin it is, Im going to eat you alive if we dont get there soon, Im starving!" Anne freaks. She really is hungry.
we walk over to the restaurant and it starts dripping slightly, it is wonderful, there is nothing that could make me happier than this walk with them.

14:00
"Are we ordering desert?" I ask.
" Maybe we should go find a new place for desert." Anne suggests.
" I couldnt agree more" Charlie says streaking his full belly with a huge smile on his face.
" You know it cant be ice cream"
"yeah, Mathew, we know"
" oh Im mathew Im allergic to icecream but I eat cheese and drink milk !" Anne says trying to imitate me.
"shut up, you both, ice cream is overrated" I say, defensive.
" Are you suggesting beaver tail is better?" Anne smells a challenge.
" Bet you 15 $ that Im going to have twice as much fun eating ice cream than beaver tale" she continues.
" thats not fair"
" bet's off? loser" she says. It reminds us of some other bet we had.
we laugh.
" look at this new kid working, Mat, whats her story" we look at this blonde short girl in the middle of the room. Charlie is starting the game that we love so much.
"oh, here, this is Bella, not as of Isabella, as of Bellatrix." I say and take a sip of my coke.
" She is 18, she has a boyfriend that works in the Tower Records in the mall and her daddy hates him. She is from a stable home and there is nothing interesting about her, yada yada yada" Charlie says.
" No,no ,no. the girl is the kind that saves up for a trip to India, look at her typicality blonde local 'Pot does my day but dont tell my daddy, he is going to be in shock when I sail off to India with my boyfriend' attitude, she is a good kid having some fun cant blame her" Anne corrects.
they look at me so I could be the judge.
"Lay, off, this is Bellatrix she is a senior she has no boyfriend and she works here so she could make money that doesn't include babysitting chimps" I conclude.
They both agree and we pay and leave.

The rest of the day we go around in the city. We laugh. Eat. Miss the train and finally get home with lots of good vibes. We go to the park and swing on the swings because I miss swinging on the swings even as an adult.

This is poorly written , very typical and stupid but this is what I need now, secretly. Anne and Charlie are a fruit of my imagination and I wish to own them in real life only they don't really exist. I'm going to continue the pattern in my head and APOLOGIZE for the low quality of today's post. For who ever is reading this, I know you are not really reading this, it ok. I needed this shit. Thanks

Mat

I dont want love because it doesn't exist for me. I want this. And winter days.

Its like the earth is divided into people that are here and people that arent. People who arent here could be anywhere, really, underground shielded by their graves or upstairs obtaining their believes, but, they cant be torn the way they are left, dead or alive in a never ending trip. Those would be the middle people the ones who are under the influence,  who am I to judge whether they are present. Theoretically, the people who are here are being divided into addicts and non-addicts but again, who am I to pass judgement and conquer the tip of the iceberg with this never ending philosophy, think, are addicts living the real life and we non addicts are the ones being cleaned off of life?

I'm being whispered the answer and my heart starts whimpering with disease. Im a non user.
Would a user rather die in the care of his drug than live the sorrow life without it? Locked in a looping motion of sickening pain , never really existing without it,  not manufacturing the real potential of their mind that used to create such marvelous visions. A mind that used to posses such extraordinary Ideas. I dont think drugs are the answer to begin with, if you dig into your mind you could create things and skills that would make you complete without the need to explore. Though, this need to explore the content of your own universe is as strong as ever and still , the snorting and popping and sniffing and injecting , are your most direct ticket to the underworld of your universe. There's no good without bad and when you are hooked. You are hooked.

I dont know what made me spill out about drug abuse,here. I thought , for a while, that this blog would get passed on with witty remarks on the web and that people will adore it and dig its vibe. I know this will not happen because my intelligence is very emotional and featuring myself as a smart writer would give you nothing but the wrong impression of what really lays behind my walls of secrecy. I dont know whether or not Im a good writer, all I know is Im sick of wankers crying out their misery with written scrolls of web blogs. I dont want to be perceived as one. Im in the middle of them crying and goofing around smartness teen blog writers, just like a junkie enjoying a little bit of both the world and its underground. I feel as if I cant totaly fight  the emotional blurrs and smudges in my own writing even though letting them show would kill my chances of having any kind of blog related friendships or relationships. This all makes me pop out the word 'adolescent'. The energy strike and the thrill of loneliness and poor company. Im vomiting 'adolescent' in this blog.

I adore many creatures that go about on earth. Bloggers, writers, readers, Independent people and mostly teens that find themselves torn within themselves. If I could gather all of you and get to know each and every one of you, I would. I would. I would squeeze my eyes half shut and swallow back all the poison left in my throat and be very nice and polite and when Im ready to scream, I will not make a scene out of it. I will sway to the side and be very gentle. Only when the distance will be purchased may I be screaming quietly. Almost cheerfully. Without really moving the ballance of the earth, of course, I wouldnt want to do that.

I dont know what must change, but it got to change now, I keep on walking in circles and that only makes me worse. I suck at being a good friend and I suck at comitting to an idea. I wish I could just be captured correctly without even having to explain myself. Like, say, today at the beach. It was like I was correct, like my thoughts were leading me into the right directions and the tremendous waves that knocked me down once or twice were understanding, almost apologetic. I thought about me thinking. I flipped inside my own body and stood strong against my own mind. Split. I thought about me touching the sand and then again about me being some kind of a lunatic inside my own head, it was correct. Refreshing. I was a penguin, a dancing penguin like in that children movie about the penguin who danced and danced and got lost and couldn't find his kind. I danced and danced persuading a reality that didnt exist, loosing myself completely in the process and loosing my kind. The beach is such a perfect place , I would love to spend it with someone I care about, my kind, I thought as I walked in the shallow water. I picked up an elegant grey rock and helf on to it for a while. I thought, I would get rid of these heavy clothes and wear something airy that the wind would cherish, Ill inhabit in a little tent with them and cover myself with a blanket when the wind gets tired of holding back its powers. It was ok to know I had plans , even though they are like junk to my rookie veins.


Mat


I slipped the rock back in my pocket.

Town

I remember how this one time I came back after a quick shower and I told someone I had just washed the day away (or was it off?) , he liked that. I think I have lightened the possibility of getting rid of the dirt of the day for that kid. He asked if he could borrow it, I happily gave him permission to do so. I have never thought about me seeing the shower as something way more ceremony connected than most people but I guess you could say that taking a shower for me is just like a washing the day off ceremony. Here I am now, clean and stumped with junk food after a ceremony indeed, trying to put the dirt I just shook off in order for my existence to make sense.

Im borrowing an imaginary comb from the world. Im combing out bits and pieces of life as I know it. Mostly Im just very lazy, I sleep in and watch TV when I rise like a superficial materialistic zombie, I suppose. Im not even very picky concerning the movies and films my mind swallows daily, just because there isnt much to watch anyways. Most days pass me by like ghosts. Numb, dull, nothing special swirls in my brain. Most days, after I watch Tv, I make an effort and study a little of Math and then when the opportunity knocks on the door, I go out and make some cash from English tutoring or babysitting little elfs. From time to time, I go out and meet figures that mean nothing to me and that fill me with anticipation to meet the real deal. Mother claims Im just looking for friendships that dont exist but she better be glad Im not looking for those things in drugs because that could easily fill in the blanks, and I wont of course, experiment.

I like books. Now Im reading, "Girl, Interrupted" its a good book, Im dunking it down my throat. Im also mingling my time and sharing it with Trainspotting. My book fetish is weirdly dumb becuase I just like gripping  the books, most books I dont even finish. I got a gift card to a well known book shop, 50 fair dollars. The car
d is still secured and kept well in my wallet for when I see the book of my life. Its hard to just buy any book with that money.

About an hour ago, I was on top of the town. there is this new roof they built in the new shopping center , the department of Teen Culture runs it now. that wast a sophisticated joke. And this was a a stupid remark about jokes. I stood on the edge, a righteous place which could easily be used for suicidal purposes. I hadnt jumped. If you were to ask me again tomorrow , my answer would have been unknown.
On my way home I passed by the school. Its a row of very ugly orange triangular shaped buildings, I thought to myself quietly, this place is so un inviting and yet again, I miss the winter here. I envy my old self who was shoved to the corner by studing when its cold and fresh and nude. This place is kind of inviting , like a hospital, really. I like hospitals , not because I know lots of doctors,but because I think they are like Hotels for freaks. And I like both hotels and freaks.

I thought about that OCD kid, thought really hard. Maybe we will be friends when school starts again and Maybe he will not discover what he is looking for in me. I hope we are all going to survive this.

Mathew

p.s there is no probability to see THEM, now, they are back in comfort zone town.

due to unconditional and sue me doesnt make any sense that I like - kind of title

I feel like I should really be more entertaining and less of a cry baby, I feel as if im just this little cunt that doesnt mean anything to anyone. I feel like Im stuck in this superficial box that prevents me from connecting to any living creature in the world. No one could ever connect to me, like being an ipod when there are only Samsung charges around.

Its not that I have zero friends its just that they are mates, they couldn't care less about me and I dont even have fun around them so , hey, I guess Im the forever the lonely wolf.

I hate this fur its making me choke cotton balls.

I had such a better post about demons and exorcism I don't know why I'm posting this one instead. Im in the deep.

tick-tok tickle clock.

03:49
Im not posting what I started writing because its long and exausting, really.
When have I stopped writing for pleasure? Why am I this blog creature, I ,usually, dont really see bloggers as quiet balanced people such as myself. Im not looking for attention and both, I dont know why I own this blog.

03:50
I should be making Zs

03:51
oh man I only have a minute to complete the sente

03:52
Im not that slow of a typer, I waited the whole minute so the point would be made, ye know.
This book im reading, Trainspotting, is really hard to deal with because it uses lots of misspellings as to emphasis on the cockney accent slang and street talk, I have to read it out loud with the whole accent in order to fully and unconditionally understand what Im reading. My brain is so old it cant process it any other sophisticated way. I do painfully announce that I sound bitterly awful and if any human being is ever crossing paths with a Trainspotting reader who recites out loud on the train please proceed with your rad little life, staring is rude, mama said.

03:58
the thought had crossed my mind earlier. This wave of lunatic electricity jolting through my brain with great sinew, only tickling the circulation of mainstream thoughts- the ones concerning getting married and going to university and having money and having a petite family. BUT this train reaction that led to the tickle couldnt have prepared me for the frightening disorder. please note this is not suicidal.

I thought about it while in Munich on top of the roof ay the Science Museum, gushed with knowledge that will soon flap its wings out the nest of my memory I thought about how going to cities with the whole family is terrible as parents . I thought, taking your kids on city vacations is making me feel so old and selfless , kind of routine and not creative. And then the odd of it all was that this mainstream plan we all have  hacked into our hooks of future is now very much damaged, I don't want to have kids and be old and get married.I don't want to  be stuck and make lots ay money for the sake of chasing it. I want to love and travel the world and never settle down for a minute. the thought triggered me and fired wierd emotion that added confusion tho the parade of confusion, as in order to comfort my soul, i tried thinking about raising one and only single child and going around with them. But this kid is going to be filled with issues and never have a stable life, plus , therapy costs have gone up and I really feel like saving up for a motorcycle. please note this was a joke, I was just trying to stress out the awe I feel toward regular life, or life at all, or making money. I mean I cant measure my success with money, or JOB, I dont care, and fairly I dont care about a thing no more. Happiness is not the deal either, nor is love, nor is power in my case, probably stupidity and self awareness Ive got those going on pretty well.jks. What is there to live for? Joy/??? Life's a bitch.

LIFE'S A BITCH

04:11
And then you marry one

AND THEN SHE HAS A SISTER

04:12

and then you

die.



Am I even really alive? Is this all in my head? I want to cross country the US, be everywhere.

04:26

after brutal editing.
Numb, Numb and hungry but wont feed the mouth because My point hasnt been made correctly and the meaning of life is still a mystery to me. However, the meaning of sleep is very very clear and crystal. SMASH.

Mat?

Sometime I

My dad owns a very interesting story. Im not sure what this means because I only obtain shuttered information. I see Ive been mentioning him a lot. I dont know why, really. I guess its a syndrome, we all have those complications in the filters of our thoughts. I told him to write a book about it and he said that sometime he will. I pushed him , objecting the phrase 'sometime I will', why not now? He replied that no one would want to read it and I told him that he shouldn't give a fuck whether or not people are reading his story. I explained to him that the writing experience is for the writer alone, no body really reads the book you are writing like you are putting it, like you and yourself are reading it. In the literal way, the readers do read it, but you are always fixed on you mind ,thats the only mind and soul you know and got, and thus you will be the only one experiencing the enlightenment of your own goods. He understood .

Depression Night Live

IM SORRY I PROMISED A POST TO GHOSTS THAT DONT EVEN READ MY BLOG>
IT WAS AMUSING AT THE TIME< STILL IS> IM KIND OF DEPRESSED> WISH TO SLEEP IT ALL AWAY< OR AT LEAST TO NEVER EVEN WAKE UP>

German Hotel

Twist twist? Nobody
Yeah , yeah, I know , no body is reading my crap yeah yeah. shut up. I've been to the Austria trip I mentioned a while ago. Been checking the stats, the ghosts that used to secretly dig my statements have moved out to the next blog, I know, I deserve this. I do.

ok, I'm done with the narcissistic pity parade. Back to business.

Zalsburg Austria+ Munich , Germany. Oh, the cold, warming up my Summer Heart, it was so nice to feel the wind again. It was so nice to feel period. Its like the fall romancing was in my head and I was completely isolated from the real world, in a good way, indeed. We hopped from one forest to the next, chasing hiking opportunities with fierce joy and tumbling down next to the smell of nature that clanged to Lori ( since my dad purchased a GPS back in 2008, and the voice was of a one called Lori, every GPS we encounter is being referred to as LORI. ). The swirl of winter filled our lungs with new adventure as we launched for the mountains, we even got a sweet tan in the snow.

Perhaps I should mention that we have gone Canyoning as well? Perhaps I should brag about how brave I was to jump into the 10 degrees freezing waters from cliffs and rocks, I was indulging in such an extreme activity I should get a medal for just putting on the diving suit ? Perhaps the silence would suit me better.

Anyways, I know this isnt much of an interesting case for anyone who is reading this but I'm doing my best to keep myself on track. Writing plain words isn't enough for me thus I try to make my style of writing more and more interesting to read and so, I'm usually processing my creativity too much and my ideas get stuck in the stream sometimes. Mustn't worry! tonight you will get to swallow another one of my posts. 2 in one day? wow! this guy must be crazy good. AND I AM. I mean. k, I think. well Ill try.

Maybe Ill tell you about the beautiful Alex?
or maybe Ill tell you about those smurfs from my last post?

Maybe.





The original Lori was stolen in Montreal while my dad parked for a rehearsal , the crims (cool shortcut?) broke the window and thus Dad had to drive home in the freezing Canadian winter with a broken window unaccompanied by the lovely Lori. RIP Lori the great GPS.

Mat

Ps.
here is to cherish the sites of Munich's most known pub, oh they know how to chunk down a beer a'right. CHEERS.