so tired. so tired. so tired. so tired. It's tiring to learn how to react in the correct way people expect you to. Will you cry when your parents die? Will you be sad when your friends die? does that make me a monster to sympathize with pain but not death? Sympathize with suffering animals but not fellow human beings? Why? because Humans understand, they could rationale... .... nobody sympathize with plants and animals... you are just a freak. I don't care if you push me off a cliff, as long as I die. DIE. DEAD. And die fast, a quite death... unlike drowning...anthing but suffocation anything. Once you know you can't turn back. Once you have had a taste of it you can't turn back either. Why is it so difficult Time runs in cycles... not really a circle.. but cycles, like life itself....where is it going to go.... if it's going in cycles then what...it's just repeating. Everything. Different outfits with the same heart. To say you are not afraid of dying, you're lying. but when I think about not having to be tired anymore, I feel relieved. You won't understand. How queer...why is it that everytime I wished or prayed sincerely and seriously for something, they bounced back and hit me measureless with the reverse? Don't even dare to pray for anything now...Everyone hates you. Even the unexplainable, unseen, all mighty, everyone. Even your cats. THey all hate you because you are waste. That feels.... normal...normal, glad. very glad. urggg food... stop making me eat...urggggerghhhh food grrrgh ...if they had a happy...well content life I don't mind eating them sparingly...as in.. well and properly cooked... not wasted...they have basked under the sun, they have experienced a little of life... that's meant for them... not enslaved, poisoned, tortured without knowing they are being tortured... they probably went with an empty soul... I believe everything has a soul, can have a soul...even manmade... accumulated collected, onsciousness and self-awareness..a soul can't grow out of an empty life...even if there was... it'd die premature. Being closer to pets than the closest kin in the world...does that make me monsterous? Can't die now... haahh...the only way to die without letting anyone know is to not exist in the very begining.... that's not even a death...they won't like it if I die now ...that's the thing about family... about parents they won't like it. They refuse to let you die. They cling on to empty hopes. the only way is to not let them know I'm dead...that won't work... But there is a slight hope... after all you have a flimsy, insubstantial presence. The land of complacency and nonchalance.... The logic this world runs on... makes me feel so hopeless, helpless. but it probably makes obvious sense to the rest of the world...hahh~gaaaaaaaa! Why do people care so much about people but not everything else non-people? During the flood, they save the pigs because they are food... they are money...they don't see them as a living breathing lifeform just like them...why? When a building collasped, lives perished, it's a tradegy, When they fell a tree who mourned for the lives lost? The tree many lost lives once called "home"... Is that fair? Why is life not fair? Because without unfairness we won't know fairness... but does that make sense? Is that right? Where there could be no wrong, I won't know what's not right... what is that makes sense...since it varies people to people... How do you make sense of all these to anyone... There is no one to talk to. No one. It's better not to. Everyone likes you to listen to what they have to say, not what you have to say. Humans haven't changed for the past thousands of years. How do you explain to people that... you have a reason to die? To them dying has no reasoning to call for. How will they feel? if they to have to live every minute in dismal? To sleep every night looking forward to die in dreams and not wake tomorrow because it is so hopeless. Everything is. Everything. There are millions more unfortunate and in much more pain... out there... but still... my existence isn't necessary nor needed in the least bit.... to a world suffering from a case of overpopulation. You know when a tree die,....not just the tree died...so many others who were alive who have conscious,...breathing bleeding.. just like us were murdered. Don't people get it... why can't they see it? Jobless, problematically mentally problematic, penniless, stoo dumb to be a lawyer, too stupid to be a doctor, too invisibile to be any use. Must be the most embarrassing daughter any parent dread. Shame of the household. To rub more salt on the wound, single and will always be. Too digusting that's why. True, my art is ugly, but they are the only friends, the only ones to talk to. You know... it'd be really nice if my family just treat me as non-existent....because it hurts too much to see the pity and disappointment in their eyes. It's easy to be invisible around friends that's nice. so tired. Look I can't help it just can't help it. It's not belittling it's facts. if you are good, it shows. And it shows, I'm just no good. not at all. It shows. And it shows look at the pity way people look into your camera... look. It shows, your ugly little bugger... you sorry useless stupid fellow.... see it shows. It's all in the pictures... they never smile honestly into my lenses and that shows too you ahve no talent in photography...see? Not belittle, no it's facts. Hidden lies. How can a person trust another person I simply cannot comprehend. Can't help it... feeling a vast sea of desolation... just can't help it... emptiness is hard to swallow...just can't help it. Can't sleep can't sit still can't work can't do anything oh damn it confound it!hahaha! Great morbid laser cancer mould sprouting squeeky pig squid! I hate myself ! Ahhh irony ironies of and in life. They are countless and counter parallel one another and each other. hahahaha still can't find a job....can't do much because my hand hurts...still can't find a job even the agents don't want me....the books barely sold enough to pay for the publishing.... the companies I worked for never used any of my work when it could be excused. nobody would believe if I told them but honestly only 10% of everything I did ever reached the public, hence my own little website of craps. Nobody would ever believe me... they'd just laughed. They always did. Always. How many trips to Japan to present.... 7? more? Still barely any publishers want to touch my work... same in the States.... why? why? why? Are my work that horrid? It must be... Even here at home...clients took a look at my work and I never heard from them, ever again. Why?... Why can't people be honest? JUst tell me straight in the face that my work sucks and I can give up... stop feeding me with false hope... it hurts I'm not asking for much... just to get paid for my hard work..just enough to support myself and my cats with the minimum.... There's nothing left in the bank, don't even know how to get through the next month... can't tell them either. But what can I do besides art? clerk? cleaner? Shop assistant? I'm good at nothing! With no qualifications nobody will hire me at this age. Noone would let me help with or do anything because I'm too slow and clumsy and stupid. Always ever so nice about it... but you can tell that they just don't want you to mess up, but they don't want you to feel hurt either. My presence is truely redundant in this world. They don't even trust me to do simple sums or walk down the next block on my own because they feel that I'm too stupid. Nobody nobody all these years ever, ever seeked me for help when they were troubled or needed it for real. How pathetic can a human being get? No one can get any lower than me as a living being. Even a wet rotten log is of more use than my flimsy pathetic disgusting presence. need money... nobody knows how deprived I'm of money... especially parents...they can't know... if they knew they would make me quit drawing. I don't even have $100 for a month...need to pay school fees next week and broadband connection.... then cat food... I need to buy paper too... where to get those money... still no job. I'm begging for jobs... still nothing. Pathetic. Pathetic. Nobody can HATE myself more than I do. I HATEEEEEEE myself. HATEEEEE HAHAHAHA. PAthetic. Amano san probably doesn't want Morikaiko... haven't heard from him for months now... there goes 3 months of work for nothing. And more months spent on the characters the stories and their world.... It happened before... it happened so many times I feel so numb. Vasunas... that design company.... all the stories they died in their own wombs. It stabs really deep into the guts...when you have to stand there and watch people flip right to the back page for the guestart before they decide to buy, or not. To watch other artists flip right to the backpage of your book for the guestart. I wanted to dig a hole and bury myself to death, I wished I had a grenade in my hand. It was embarrassing. What am I doing? How shameless and low can I get? To sell my books by using other artists' art.... Why am I still drawing and making stories when they are such an eyesore? But I like to draw... I like to give the characters personalities..stories...kill them off... I'm happy when they are happy... angry when they are angry... they are my real friends and I betrayed and let them down too. I let everyone who had faith in me down. I feel so numb so numb. so numb. so tired... why aren't there mountains and forests here so I can die up in a tree somewhere deeep deep in the greens and tell my parents I happily eloped with an elusive billionair... they can hate me all they want, at least nobody knows I died. They don't have to know. I'm just tired. let me go. I'm useless alive anyway. USELESS so pleassssssse I'm so so so tired. can't keep up... must smile infront of people so they won't know. Someone something kill me. YOU mock me Laugh laugh! 30 years haven't you laughed enough? What did I do in my past life? What did I do in this? Why am I so tired? Why am I so useless? Why do people lie? I Hate the real world. It is so real I can't feel a thing. I felt more in dreams, I felt more while dead. Heavens hate me, hell doesn't want me. They are laughing together at me. I have to laugh at myself too. Clown... fool...shameless faceless fool. I won't laugh along with them. Why should I? Why should we? They are either evil and having fun or they simply don't care. Look at the world! The bad triumps the good dies, everyone lives like floater blobs...still... better than a pile of vile stiinky disgusting vomit. The blobs told the vomit they envy thee... I can't laugh I can't i can't it'd be nice if i could. This is lame... so lame....do they have to all come at the same time? You confounding itch! ache and cramp... it's lame to have to take painkiller at 5 to sleep..... how severely retardedly lame. blyeeh.. i feel sick... why do you have to come every month?! you used to come just once or twice a year... i hate you I wish I can rip everything right out. It would feel so much lighter.... dizzy.... it hurts ithurts... but cna't eat those chocolate it's the last bar... I wont' be able to buy more anymore they are so expensive. Oooo it hurts blyee I wish I can throw up. Stay away from me... I'm unlucky. How can you say I have good vibes? Are you crazy? Just because I have a translucent presence and hence people do not feel uneasy or stifled around me doesn't mean I have good vibes. Good vibes? Have you any idea how unthinkable and impossible that is? eh? Buy something oh pleaseee bu. this is stupid. Of course they wouldn't buy. How many people like drawings like that? All the poor nice people who like my drawings.... feel so bad for them... poor them.... they have to feed this useless piece of trash to keep it meaninginlessly alive. They have to use their hard earned money to feed a piece of trash. I feel like a beggar, a liar. Most people have already given up anyway.... SLG... Asukashinsha...etc trash will always be trash. I learned it the hard way. I'm so tired. But i can't kill myself yet... must finish muZz no matter what... even though I know nobody really read it nor buy it.... just finish that and I can sleep. Horraaay! I can't wait. i can't wait! I don't have to feel numb and drowned all the time anymore can't wait! someone told me to be my own friend.... I can't.... never been Nnever never ever not at 1 not at 3 not at 15 not now... don't think ever will...everrrrr. try being me for a day and try smiling tomorrow.. You will urge and crave to kill everyone you can get your hands on. People make being happy seem so easy and natural. The smiles... disgusting goosebumps don't trust them! people who smile. DON'T trust them! Humans are stinking liars, filthy people meat dirt and sickness sprouting virus. They talk about joy~ about love~ ohhh such rubbish so abstract with too much concept... joy love and respect...goosbumps they don't exist to the pool of sour brain vomit. hehheehhheh it's sour and mashed up sickly looking and absolutely disgusting. Disgusting!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PEH!! can't work when everyone's home... stop coming into the room. I can't think there's 10 over characters I have to think for all of them at the same time and I have a very lousy brain stop coming into the room and be angry. Why can't they understand.... just leave me alone. leave me alone to rot and die. die die die die die die die die die die die die dieeeee damn it die! stupid body! JUSt drop dead alreadyi can't stand it anymore I can't stand it anymore I can't stand it anymore The website is down again... moved but it still isn't working...200$ gone...gone...what am I going to do.... still no job good heavens and hells if only my parents are around I'd stab myself to death and laugh till I died that would be so much fun. pain... pain but it will end... I hope... I hope... i dont' believe it...can't... but I hope....hehhehheheheh I cna't even bang my head on the wall.Rubbish! If only my hands are strong and sharp enough to rip flesh apart. delightful. wonder if people notice... but when you are in trouble, friends are never anywhere near, family you just can not include... the first person you see is always a stranger. When you tell most of those who claim to be your friends your troubles, they immediately keep a good distance away from you... or they simply change the converstation to another subject... How sad is that?...that barely left 2 people in the whole universe who seem care.... I hate hostonce. why does everrrrything i come in contact with screws?! I earn US dollars it starts it starts to weaken... I start earning yen, yen drops like crazy...I stop earning both... both went right up immediately! what the hell? I joined livejournal... Livejournal starts acting weird and having problem within a week?! DOn't anyone ever tell me it's coincidence! I will nail a screwdrive into their head. It is always happening! But nobody sees it... it's always coincidence! Are they blind? Don't tell me I'm mental...decades of coincidences is too much too much it' is just not possible. Bad timing heehhhehhheh bad timing I time badly so very lousy keeping time...yes yse? yes? if so..what am I doing here? what good is a living being who lives out of time? kill me. Please. please. please. please. It hurts. They never said anything about the food. It hurts She asked why i never washes the utensils after cooking. I'm only trying to help. Why don't you help then. It hurts. Because my hands hurt. Why don't you cook then. I dont' even like to cook. I can't even use the vacuum cleaner bec the hands hurt. I can't even open a can bec my hands hurt. I gave up being alive for the sake of drawing and it amounts up only to more pain. nothing but pain. 31 years of pain and more pain. It hurts. When will it ever end. when will it ever ever end? But this is good. It's all good. For without it I wouldn't have lived this much and so long, being a pungent disgusting useless stupid walking dead corpse that I'm. Just let me die soon. Soon enough so as to not to wither my family away. Save your money for retirement! I dont' even have money for a haircut! To hell if I'm sick. ALl the better! JUst let me die. So on a holiday dont' waste it on me. it's not worth it AT ALLLL. Why aren't you getting it at allllllll get a life! STay away from me. I've brought you nothing but ill luck! Don't you seeee you two only started fighting after I'was born. and it has never stopped since. If I die. It will stop! I'm sure it will. my artwork sucks. I'm so bloodly untalented. Why can't anyone just say it. STOP AVOIDING THE QUESTION SAY IT! BECAUSE YOU KNOW IT IS TRUE!!! I can't even find a simple goddamn job to pay my bills. If someone can just tell me the truth at least I can let it go. Because it's so painful. it's so very very painful. dying is a long long long long dully painful, lonely and frightening process. trying to die is another long long tideous guilty process. waiting to die too is a long long grey and solitute process. Hoping to die is a hopeless merciless time wasting process. Been alone for so long... alone in school, on the bus, in the class, during PE, after class, on the way home, at home, travelling... You get so used to it, it's difficult to change. it becomes indespensible... It becomes part of you. but it still hurts but you can't understand the hurt. Just don't. Very strange. It is very empty, very very. But crying.... it's sick it's stupid! it's weak! It's disgusting show of selfpity! Revolting. Vainity my disgusting sick monthly blood poop looks like pig's liver. Pigs' livers looked unevil...they looked kind.... those poop blood they are repulsive sick sick sick! evil veil! They are sick. They eat their way in your body eat and growled like insane reuthless drunken unreasonable demons. They eat and eat and eat and they keep coming back and back and back and back and back and back and wish you wish you had died. died for the sake for just being dead. dead. Everymorning very morning since the day I was born. I hated waking. dread dread and more dread every single morning everrrrry single morning. Dread. Just dread and more and more and more more more more more dread and hate and hate hate hate and sickness. every day. So tired so so tired. I wish I have enough courage to just beomce a serial killer. It'd be so nice to go around killing people. Rich people, animal killers... when I die i want to be a reaper. And I will have so much joy in torturing filthy people.... What the use of being nice they kick you around and treat you like a moron. I rather be a moron reaper..opps took the wrong guys soul...opps accidentally poured acid over a skinned you. Nay they wouldn't hire you as a reaper. You are too stupid. Too stupid. way too too too dumb. You should selfdestruct. Please. I'm not nice. I'm just useless, harmless and redundant. That's why people are nice to me. I hate them. I hate myself. I'm sick, I should get sicker and lose all my senses and start killing everyone. It'd be the most meaningful day of my meaningless stupid sick life. So disgusted with m yslef so so disgusted with myself I can't eat I can't . I can't. Felt as if I'm wasting the food... feeding this this...things is a waste of food, lives. I can't eat. I'm disgusted so disgusted it's a waste waste of food, money, effort put in to get me to live longer as waste of good thoughts can't eat. I can't! It's so difficult to contiune drawing muZz when you know that nobody is reading it and nobody cares. It's so difficult. so very very difficult. It makes you wonder. What is worth... why are you doing it... it's so bad nobody wants to read it...why am I still doing it? 80 out of 100 people at the convention bought my book for the guestart One can't go any lower and the figure is getting lower every year too...probably only 10 in a 100 now and 5 bought it out of pity and sympathy... pathetic ... I feel for Negishi...but at least he has his DMC success. I can't even pay for my own meals and toilet paper. It's so difficult so difficult so difficult to breath in this world. People kept telling me not to be modest... to have more confidence...how.. how can I when I can't even find a decent job... not a single cent for years. Not a cent. How.. when your younger sister look at you like dirt... your parents look at you with pity... your friends look at you like a simpleton... when in a crowd your are part of the chipping wall or if not, a clown. That stalker showed up again. To haunt me... just the realisation that the email was from him made me wanted to throw up and felt all filthy and disgusting... really wanted to throw up...really feeling sick.. grrgh. i feel sick. Please take him to hell and chain that thing there for eternity. i feel sick. i feel sick sick sick sick. sick. It's not fair. Why won't they let me die? Why do they want to see me living and living and continue to live in misery and feel sick and sicker and sicker and die slowly sickly like a tightening rope? I only live because I dont' want to hurt them... and watch the next episode of Doctor Who. There is nothing else to live for. Not in this world. Nobody else cares, I'm useless so why not let me go? I have been miserable for 30 years. You have had your laugh for 30 years. Isn't that enough? I dont' have money, not intelligence, no respect, no looks. I will never find happiness I will never find love not even once not 1 second. Can I die please? I'm tired. Just tired. Tired of being bleak tired of being misunderstood, tired of being treated as a fool, tired of myself. Tired of carrying this heavy soury heart. Tired of being alone in and out. Tired of not being able to be honest to anyone. Tired of not being able to talk to anyone. Tired of being utterly useless. Tired of being sickly. Tired of being poor, Tired of being talentless and yet unable to give up. Tired of people and humans. Tired of the curelty and unfairness in this world. Tired of people's ignorance. Tired of my own ignorance. Tired of pain. Tired of being weak. I'm so useless. Maybe I smell. It's awkward when people ask me about love.... I think my friends think I'm lesbian. I have never loved, never been loved. Love is impossible for something like me. I've never been asked out before. is love that lovely? It gives me the shivers. That stalker said he liked me and he is creepy. So creepy i'm going to throw up again. He lied, just like those who said they like my work. Creepy disgusting creep... would someone who loves you tell you to take drugs? Would they want to take u to a stripclub? That is disgusting. I'm getting goosebumps... ergggggggghhhhhh filthy filthy filthy! errrghhhhhh dont' touch me! erghhhhhhh! They all lie. they dont' like my work! I know they don't because they always disappear and then reappear again. Try it, tell them you are ugly they will go nay.... but they will never say you are pretty. Because if you are, they will say so. It's common sense. Why do they lie? I'm stating a fact and they rebunk it and persuade me to believe in lies....it doesn't work that way... it doesn't. It only shows that I don't have anyone I can talk to. you can't open your heart to anyone who doesn't open up to you and be truthful. Nobody would tell me the truth. Nobody. Nobody. Nodboy at all. They always wanted to be a friend but keep a great big difference in between. They won't tell you anything personal. They refused to ask you for help for anything personal... I dont' have friends. I never had. Never not since the first day of school. Never. Nodbody wanted to come near me. Nobody ever invited me to play with their cards at their table, not the during lessons not during breaks, not for projects. It's always the trees who were nice. They let me play under them...the big great roots, their fallen seeds and leaves. Never even been bullied... I even envy those who got bullied... at least someone noticed them. I lived my life invisible. Even now, my presence is invisible...or maybe it is just repulsive. People always move away from me in trains and buses like I'm a virus... it only happens when I was alone... I don't understand. It doesn't happen when I'm with someone... I understand why that lady in SD said I have good vibes... it isn't the vibes, it's my invisible presence. It is so filmsy, my presence becomes not impulsive nor overwhelming...many people have such overwheiming presence nowadays because of self-centeredness...self importance...selfishness. It gets so overwhelming it really sucks all the energy out of you and leave you really really tired if you stay in a crowded place for a long time. I worry about my cats... what if they get sick.. where am I going to get the money for medication.... I know when and how to die myself, but... I can't leave them and watch them die. Solitary to live through desolate, to die lorn. To begin detached, to die solely. Alone. It will not change. Entirely. Unparalleled. How ever you try to wrap it up pretty, nice and warm. I don't get praised. I don't ever. Being brought up to know and realise how utterly retarded one is, it's just difficult to believe it when people praises you. You keep seeing the mocking glitter in their eyes. The sympathy in their voice. I hate it. The lies. I hate it, I can't work when they keep coming in and out of my room, suddenly exclaiming, just decided to lie there, asking something without a knock on the door... and the word "eat" the word "food"... coming in as if I'm just surfing the net, not working.telling me to go out with them as if I'm off everyday anyday anytime.... I hate it I hate it so much... I can't work... it irks so much so frigging a lot! I HAAAAVE TO WORK LEAVE ME ALONE! GO AWAY! AWAY AWAY! DIE! Hate the phone hate it's rings. HATE PHONES shindeiru walk looking at the ground and you won't step on doggy piles...but you won't see how vast and blue the sky is. Walk looking at the sky, you might step on one of the piles or even murder one that never crossed you. Do both and you'd get a sprain sooner or later. you know, your heart literally feels cold and choked...That's the feeling of loneliness. You dont' feel sorry for yourself. That's not it, it's just the feeling of being alone, forever alone, knowing that you will forever ever ever be alone. It felt cold and hollow. It's alright because it's something one get used to. But it feels cold. Literally stabbingly cold. Never had friends. Not those 10 years of school. Always tagging behind, listening to them chat.. tagged along anyway. The rule is- to never try to join in. It will only cause more disappointments. For the sake of being in a group of people...shut up. Those I call friends, honestly they won't want to know what I'm really feeling. Don't want to hear. I know, beacause I tried. It doesn't work that way. They don't want to hear about you(Who does?). They want you to hear what they have to say. Never been allowed to go on class outings, nor classmates'/friends' house or parties. nor movies. Nor going out at all. It's always the empty house and the radio. It's nice, because it's peaceful. But it's empty. The nannies, they are just nannies, not a friend. They come, sat around, ate, slept, go home. you dread your parents coming home, because it's not a home. It's just a place of unhappiness when everyone get too close. That's why I always believed that to avoid unhappiness, leave people alone. Don't ask, don't speak, need not speak. Who cares. I'll tell you the truth, those who seemed to care, be careful. They don't. Teachers, colleagues, friends, people who talked to you, relatives. Never participated in class activities. Never been asked. I always wonder if I smell. I think it's because I look stupid and ugly. Physical exercise lessons were never fun beacuse teachers prefered group games. Nobody liked me in their groups. Which is why running is the best. You get to go outside, beyond the school gates. Projects aren't fun either why teacher forced a group upon you.. when the members didn't want you from the start, they wont' include you. Never been allowed to join any clubs. Never.... didn't know how to either... even if I joined, it'd be the same anyway. Not even allowed to walk to and fro school from home... not allowed. Had to do it in secret. comics, not allowed. Movies, not allowed. Going out, not allowed. dinner TV only father can have that. Not allowed. CDs, not allowed. Questions, not allowed. Crying, not allowed. Playground, not allowed. The grocery shop beneath our apartment building, not allowed. Park right behind the apartment... not allowed. Cycling, not allowed. nobody ever called. no one ever come over to our house unless invited by father. Give a classmate your phone number.. if she calls.. prepare yourself for a long questioning. Drawing, not allowed. The trick is to draw them in books, not papers. Old school books they won't think of checking. Which is why travelling into the stories of books is always nice. Hated the school bus... the screaming, the smelly air, the kids, and noone to talk to. Walking home alone is nice, You listened to the trees rustle.. you notice little things. Honestly it felt great, but then noone will ever know because they are not alone. They don't hear it, don't see it. I can't share, because they won't understand. I can't share it, because I won't. It's mine. I don't want to lose it... or I'd have nothing left at all... nothing. I'm so disgusting. I hate my childhood, becauce I was so disgusting and retarded. Noone has ever asked me how I felt. Never. Not even once. Noone ever asked why. Never. I wondered why noone ever asked. But then I know that I knew why. I also learnt that when people asked how you are doing, it's just a formality. They don't mean it. I always thought they did. It hurts to know. It's always only because they wanted something... be it work... be it favor... That's why, I believe, I understand, I know, I want to get out of this home. This house. Away from these people and be truely alone. I'll always be alone. Living, death, after death. That's why, I know, and I understand now, I see how untalented I'm and how stupid I was to think that people will like my art my selfish art, That it will go places, that anyone would care... that my artwork will be remembered. Trying to imagine that anyone would care makes me laugh, I can't imagine it at all. Can't see it happening at all. It's so pathetic I dont' even want to try. It's not as sorry as people think it is. It's nice to be alone. You get used to it, addicted. The flipside of it is just the knowing and feeling of a dull, very dull cold... dull void in the chest. That's why, I'm disgusting so disgusting, it's sick..makes me want to puke. what the hell is wrong with me! Why do I always get confused?!! left and right, atama and onaka, may and march... arggghhhh She said May! not March! Why did I think it's March when I know and heard her said "May" and even understood it... and even pictured the image- 5.... damn it damn it!!! And Blue is to Green... why?! And I can't count! I keep skipping numbers! Especially "2"! And I can't recognise people's faces... have to remember the clothes colour... i hate it ... I hate it... What did I do to have to feel like such a failure, to feel so misery ever since birth my hand hurts, my arm.. my head bloodly hurt my skin itches, my scalp itch ,y ears itch...everywhere! my brain's all screwed and wired wrong my tummy hurts it hurtttts my mom nags and brags but never about anything good... my dad's morally disgusting... I'm so tired. I'm really really tired. Hope? it died a long time ago... trust? It died since I was a kid. Faith? It's evil. Now I know why I won't die... it's the thing called will. isi. isi no you na katai isi. Ikite iru no riyu ha, isi da. Sturborn and hard as a rock... i can't die. Cold like a rock. It refuses to break. Squeezed and juiced dry and sufforcated what's left of the soul... it became a rock. It became will. Empty, lifeless, dull and grey, alone- yet existing. standing- but too heavy to move, too cold to feel any joy, helpless.Ungrieving. I hate this... but I can't let the will die...if it did... that would reduce me to nothing, worse than the lowest existence. Why is it so difficult to get paid?! It has happened so many times, I get apprehensive when accept jobs... will they pay me this time? can I trust them? How long will it take this time? 1/2 year? 1 year? Never? I feel bad to keep bugging them for money.... The 3k project it's been 3 weeks they still wont' let me send in the invoice..... why? The German magazine... will he pay me? The logo project... can I trust her? The gallery... will they return my artwork.... or will they disappear like the last one? Even the newspaper project... it took them 2 months to pay us... if I didn't bug them.. we probably would never get paid.... Why? They probably won't ask me to work on anything again.... I almost never see any money from the nekopress book... are they telling me the truth? Do they want my work? Do they really like my work? I can't trust them... I can't. How can I trust anyone when no one would tell me anything. I probably will never see the 3k... she wont' reply to my emails... even if they do pay me...someday, they probably wont' ask me to work for them again. why am I so idiotic. So stupid. So bloody uselessly sickeningly stupid? Coward!!!! Love? what is love? Love doesn't exist. It's stupid. My parents don't love each other. I don't know if I love my family... will I cry when they die? Will i cry when one of my friends died? What is love? I can't feel anything for humans... I sympathise with anything non human... Noone has ever loved me either. Nobody has ever said they liked me. No boy has ever said he liked me. What is love? Stop making funny faces when love is mentioned. It Irks, because I can't read those facial expressions. What do they mean? happy? Shy? What is it? I can read fear, hate, joy, secret, pain... anything but that. Love doesn't exist. Attraction does. Looks does. And that is all. People are attracted to pretty things. That I can understand. Love, it sounds so foul and pretendious. Superficial. Is that friendship? Then what is friendship? I don't understand friendship. What are friends for? It's easier to hate. It's easier to stay away. It's too confusing. too too confusing and faraway. I know I'll never understand. Ever. Because I can't go near another human being. I can't. I feel disgusted. I dont' know what to do infront of another person. Can't talk. Cant' think. I feel like throwing up. I fear them, and hate them...well I don't , but yet I do. I'm envious of them, being human myself yet not so. Being one, yet powerless and useless and unsightly. Just smile and smile and smile and smile and dont' come near me. anyone who comes too close will know how disgusting and ugly I'm. Then they will go away . They all did. They all will. They always do. In the end, nobody will listen to what I have to say, becasue they don't understand. Becasue I'm not one of them. I've always known I'll die alone, someday. I just have to wait, and wait and wait and wait and wait I'm so tired of waiting. Really realllly tired. It's so tiring to smile. It's so tiring to be around people. It's especially tiring when everyone's home on weekends. What will happen when my parents retire... I want to be alone, can't stand people. Can't stand them being too close. It's draining, it's daunting. Don't enjoy cooking for people, especially family... dont' know if they like it. They don't seem to like it. They probably don't anyway. They enjoy restaurant food more....I'm not that good....Not good at all. I know that. It's obvious. It' tiring. Trying. It's tiring. For a stupid useless being. It's really tiring. when someone refused to part $200 for 4 original character design sketch... it pretty much shows how good your artwork is. It sucks. why am I still sticking to art.......right...I'm not good at anything at all....What am I doing living anyway? Such a useless living corpse... living...it's an insult to all living lifeforms. Having always known that my artwork are poorly and ugly, helps. I always know from the look on people's face that they don't like my drawings. ...Was told so right in the face that my drawings are ugly. I didn't feel a thing. Not the slightest bit, just..."I knew it... at last, someone who isn't afraid to say it out loud." I would like to tell them," I told you so." laugh, mock all you want. Laugh at my misery, mock it. Who likes being sad... Try and step into my shoes waking up everyday with hollowness waking up with the dull weight in your heart for 30 years. Every day. Again and again and again never changing, just going round and round and round nowhere. It's exhausting. It's so tiring. But you can't tell anyone. You can't because you will just upset them because they won't understand, and I can't explain. Who wants to listen to bad stuff? Nobody. I'm so tired. going nowhere, in life, in career, in everything. everything. Ithe choking in the throat. it's so dull, so plain, so tasteless, so empty. Yet it chokes. every minute, every second. Do you want to live my life? Why am I alive? Because I dont' want to upset my parents. I can't let them know what...loser their daughter is. You can literally feel your soul crumbling away. U just feel it going away, little by little till it left you completely. And then, there's nothing, just emptiness. It's cold, but not physically cold. The heart feels cold. You can't feel anything behind you anymore nor inside you. Nothing. You can't cry, you can't scream. when you mock me, I can only laugh. not from pitiness, just absurbness. the silliness of existing. The hatred of what's left of your own existence. The pondering of how low can I get, how low will I get before my will gives up How will you feel, when your very earliest memories are all but bleakness and desolation, try as you might, you couldn't find any joyful ones, not because there aren't any, but because they won't and refused to stay. Everyday everyday the fear the fear of people knowing, knowing you are evil and weak. The fear of materialistic matters, the fear of mundane, the hate of everyone around you. the disgust of yourself. Try stepping into my shoes, feel the never ending disgust, the desolation, the hate, the emptiness, the suffocation. How do you like it? Laugh, say I'm an emo. What is an emo? Can someone's misery be laughed off as a fashion statement? As a joke? A cliche? Jeer on, say I'm sadistic, say I'm pathetic, say I'm hypocriptical. I shan't deny that I am pathetic. Very Pathetic. Living is so painful, so lonely, so stale, so quiet, so shameful- wafting and drifting- as painful as the endless process of dying. Have som confidence! They say. But how to? When there was none to begin with, when none was ever given, when again and again the waves of complimentaries return to slap hard and smack right in the face gleefully with rocks and debris. And they ask you- what is wrong?- but they don't mean it. They don't and they didn't. The kind souls they are. Generous but not geniune. So many of them, all friends they are, but none I know. None. Not one. They won't come. I can't ask. Because I don't know them. Not one of them. The forces of goodness and light hate me. I'm convienced, for there have been too many incidences and conicidences. The forces of darkness and mean pranks mock me. I'm sure,for they don't care for a small fry of a cowardy loser. Bad deeds bring good fortune, it also brought grief and paranoia. Good deeds never fail to bring misfortunes, even though it felt daisy and dazed as a giver, and no regret. Alone and away may please both sides. At least it is void. Again, got into good terms with my manager friend and his family, and brought them bad luck. Wonder if his salery got slashed... did try not to talk to them for awhile. Shouldn't have happily sent them gifts. As if it's infectious, I'm not a lucky person. it seems to affect people who are close to me and who knows me well. Break-ups, worst class of the year, bad grades, bad sales, companies almost closed down, magazines sell badly... Seems like the way around it is to not get too "included"..too "into" whatever it is, always look cheerful, as long they don't treat me as a good friend as long as I don't get too close and shut up, it's alright. Tried. Their luck got better. The key is to look content and never let them too much into your life. They can pour their life to you, you can help them whatever, but don't let them know anything about you. It works. I have friends yet I have none. I work yet i have no work. I live yet I'm already dead. superstious? I don't know, too many incidents, too many coincidences.... if I don't exist will my family be happier. My parents were happier before I was born. Even our cats seem depressed... never getting along. the 2 companies went downhill while I worked fulltime with them. So much so, the staff couldn't get their salary on time. The minute I left, they recover. The only 2 companies I ever worked for. Will the magazines sell ? so that I won't be out of job? Nobody is going to believe this. But for someone living with it for 3 decades, it's difficult to ignore it, and easy to be paranoid over it. Maybe some people do sense it... because I dont' have a single friend... most of those after meeting and talking to me for the first time, never talked to me again. Or rather, they seem relucant to. They all do. Luckily I have a very filmsy existence, even my sister said so. Most people didn't realise when I was around. Many chose to ignore me. Be it alone or in groups or in pairs or with family. People if they had a choice, would shun me. 95% of the time. Nobody believed me, they just laughed it off. It's painful. Nobody sees it. It's like telling them spirits thingys exist. It may not be the "spirit" we know but you can't deny that something is out there with our eyes can not see. It's tiring. It's lonely. I can't wait for my life to finish. But what good would that do? Nothing. Nothing at all. This world is so painful. The nudging numbing hurt you can't scratch or grab, and simply not describlable. If only I can give them a moment to feel it by shaking their hands. How will they react? How I wonder? Will they punch me? Will they scream? Will they cry? Will they hurl something? Will they stab me? Will they jump out of the window? Will they band their head against the wall? Will they bite themselves? Will they tear up things? Will they laugh insanely? Will they shiver with unreleasable emotions? Will they sit in a corner bec it's comforting? Will they stab themselves? Will they?... Because those are what I want to do all at once. But can't. Because it will only upset people... They will say the chair did nothing wrong. why did you hurl it and hurt it....and they are right. What am I suppose to do? I can't tell anyone I can't do anything, like a coward like a loser I drink the suffocating feeling. I dont' even know what I'm feeling anymore. It's a pain, that isn't easy to get out off. be to pulled out off, and not drown first. It a pain, nothing will do. Nothing. looping and looping and looping. No point telling anyone. They will just tell you to snap out of it or treat you as a sadist. They are the majority. happy people wins. emails letters friendship always hany midair. They say I'm nice and end at that and back away. I stopped trying to wait for replies. Now I dont' even bother to reply. too tired. so very very tired. I'm so tired of being nice. Filmsy existence is comforting. I dont' care about living anymore. If I get sick! sick then let it be. It's not worth curing. Im not worth it. I'm not worth anything. Who cares anyway. The animals would understand. The grass upon our feet would. It's a fact that nobody in the world cares about anything but themselves. I'm so tired. I'm so tired I can't work. I try but I can't. So tired. So very very tired. Nobody cares, and I can't make them. Wish I could say I wish I am dead, or I wish to die. What good does that do? Nothing. Nothing at all. Oh I'm so veryveryvery very tired. Just tired. Is it wrong to say I love nightmares and sureal dreams about monsters, gorey, creatures, adventures, killings, deaths, blood, dimensions, journeys, spirits? Love them. Glad that 99% of my dreams are those. They are comforting. They felt... fulfiilling, that it's worth living just to have dreams like that and wish I never woke. sweet dreams are disgusting. disgusting disgusting. What are sweet dreams? I don't know. But those that seemed sweet, always felt like a broken promise and disappointment. They are cruel. They are disturbing and leaves a bad bad disgusting taste in the mouth. like you are eating mud or decaying food. upon waking. To be happy is to be content. Easy said, but...it's so impossible to attain it. Not when this world is so full or cracks, not when your life is so full of cracks. I sympathise too much?... no... it's not that.. it's just... I can imagine others' pain, visualize it and felt it. Pain, rage, desolate, hate, fear, dying... The only thing I can't gasp is happiness. No matter how I can't feel and imagine and visualise their joy. When they tried to share their joy, I can't connect. I don't know how to respond. Everyday everday everyday routines and routines, round and round and round in the same spot. Everyone, same words, same time, same thing everyday everyday everyday never changing, not wanting to change... I can't stand it. I want to cry but I can't, I want to cry out but I can't. What is the point of talking when all that come out are filthy and unworthy, unconveyed and rejected. The more one talks the more one hurts the receiver. The more one talks the more one realises how swallow one is. How corrupted humans are. How plasticky, how hypocritical, how confusing and ironic... I hate talking. Since my existence is such a filmsy one, I might as well be not here at all. Who would care anyway. All the people in the world I called friends wouldn't have known that I died a month ago. All the people in the world wouldn't even know such a person existed. Such is how much life is worth. The nest of mice they exterminated. The tree they chopped down. The cockroach they choked with pesticide. The fried wings of countless chicken they didn't finish last night and threw away. The turtle who choked on a plastic bag we threw away. The unidentified creature that died from the flooding of the dam. The dog who drowned in abandoned house from flood. People shut up in their chilled rooms. They have forgotten the breeze at night, They have forgotten the stars. I have never seen a sky full of stars, probably never will. They have forgotten they are not the only ones who live and bleed and breath and get sick, and run in the wind, and felt the grass under their feet. Why do I have to think of all these. I'm so tired. So useless. Tired of being a failure. A useless child who don't even have money to get her own parents simple birthday presents, can't even pay for the food she stuff herself. Whose pets are always so sad, so down. The whole house, so suffocating so dense yet so hollow, so grey. Who have never brought pride into the house. So ugly and undesirable, I didn't and don't have a single guy friend. So stupid, I was always the last in class, always the invisible one. Not a single gossip, not a single friend. Even though breaks were peaceful and always standing, I envied those who were being bullied. At least, they know they exist. I'm tired of being a failure. My whole life is a pathetic failure. A dimwit as a child, even worse now. Worse. You have no idea how I hate hated hate hate hate myself. If only I do not have the sense of pain, if only i have the courage I would have gorged my heart out with my bare hands and have a hearty laugh. A loud one, a really joyful one. The last one. if I have enough breath and energy, pull out my intestines just for amusement. Ohhhh why do always smell like pee??????!! Why do they keep telling me to compromise? Why? To have more commercial value they say. There is a whole world of artists who need not compromise at all. This is good evidence that I'm plain and simple just not good at all. So stop! Pleaseeee stop telling me my work is good. I won't believe you, because I can't because I'm too poor to believe. Stop hurling false hope at me. It's cruel it's so cruel. Is there no limit to human's cruelty? 10 yeat! 10 years! I would be very lucky if I could even get one freelance job a year. Just one and I would be so happy I could cry. Books! Who would read my stories? Who cared? No one. It would be a miracle if one did. Why do people always tell my contradicting things. Why do they all lie? They call me friends but we haven't talked for months. Some says I look good, hahaha such big fat lie. They only gawp at my grotesque and awkwardness and idiocy. I'm poor, so poor i don't want to wake up tomorrow. I wish I don't. I pray i don't. It would have been better to move. Either to Japan or US, where I can get more work and jobs. But I can't. My family won't let me leave. And there's the cats. But I can't find a single job here... be lucky if I can get 2 small freelance illo jobs in a year. People here don't like my work. They think it's ugly and witch-like and scary. I can't get any work here. I have to leave... but how? U have no money either. Not a cent. Now to think about it... people in Japan don't like my work either, same as in US, at least I know- not enough to beable to sell enough books to even pay for 3 square meals and nothing else. I should dig a hole and bury myself... have I no shame!? Nobody likes your work! Give up already and go clean some toilet! What are you good at anyway? NOTHING! YOU! are a total WASTE OF SPACE! Was intending to spend only $100 this month.. but the $100 went to postages for etsy stuff $50 on transport...at least that will last another 2 months...$50++ on allergy stuff...arrrrrrgh already $200's gone...arrrrgh what am I doing to do? With only 4000yen till December!!!!! A visit to the doctor is going to cost another 100... I can't go to the doctor.... I can't... but I have togaaaaa~~~ bloodly stupid body! retarded rotten disgusting body! noooooo mother's birthday's coming too... and it's only the begining of the month! And the bills.... mmm $3x4 for bread... no coffee for the rest of this month I guess... I want to watch movies~~uuu at least the pet food's settled...uuuuuuuu no money for toiletries...toothpaste... shampoo... aaa at least I can make shower soap... mmm pantyliners might last another month... haircut...mmm mom can cut for me... but her present... curses! Damn it! I"m USELESS! mercilon... don't want to take it but... the pain, the mood swings, the eczema, the acne, hair loss, agitation, the 1kg bloat everyday... I can't satnd it anymore but...I can't afford $20++ every month.. I will have to cut down on something... but what? I don't buy clothes, don't eat out,... coffee?... don't buy books without using vouchers, can't cut on pet food... Transport's already at it's minium... lowest... mmmmm where to get more work? but 24hrs isn't even enough to finish what's at hand.... don't buy cosmetic either... already cut down on shampoo ..$4 now... I guess coffee...$4 x 4...still need $10 cancelled insurences... can't cancel any more...hmmmmmmmmmmmm rrrrrrgh movies?...nooo noooo... no lunching out with Sharon and Irene at all.... buy cheaper stuff.... toothpaste?...ahhh but stupid sensitive teeth... mouth rinse? a lesser mouthful? skip? Definately no haircut. argh what the hell don't even know when the next period is going to come anyway....oh heaven or hell knows it may not even come for another month or what not. Noone wanted to believe but our old apartment was.. there were things. The stairs were the worst. It's normal ordinary stairs, plain! but you just don't want to be near them. The stairs that leads to different floors. Right below our apartment. We were the only apartment on that floor. It's so still there. It's not dark, but at the back of your mind there's a tone of darkness there. It's very very dense. the air was dense and heavy. The people living in the apartment beside the stairs never stayed long. The bathroom in my parent's bedroom. You never want to be alone. I always wanted to get out as fast as i could. I rather showered in the stuffy windowless dark toilet in the kitchen than the airy, bigger , cleaner bathroom. At night, you don't want to be alone. Even if you didn't know you were the only one left awake at night, you didn't have to, the feeling just came to you. The feeling of tension rose suddenly. Just very tense. The next bad place was the front door. Lotttttts pf dreams about the door and the stairs. Everyone in the family had dreams about the door, about it being unable to close properly and the panic that it wont' close and that bad things would happen bec of it. I still get it now and then even after we moved. A black big furry spiky caterpillar crawled up my leg around 5 am in that bathroom. How it got up 11th storeys, how it came about without any plants within 50m nearby, not even tree. It disappeared after Ihosed it to the floor. So many bad dreams about the apartment. It's not evil, but stuffy. unsettling. I never slept on my back, always slept with blanket over my whole body. My room wasn't that good either. One night I woke up hearing a birthday party going on in the livingroom right outside my room. Could see the lights, hear the laughters. The lights wavering, like candle lights. The stairs are just evil. stuffy stuffy stuffy. Somehow I alway felt that someone or something stays there. The house wasn't dark. But you never want to be left alone or leave any place you go unlit at night. i plain refused to turn off the night if I were to go to bed the last. Always leave the radio on. The tree outside the window of my sister's room was bad. It felt bad. There's always a shadow cast on it no matter how bright the day was. It wasn't that big but it felt old. It looks healthy but it felt black. Our second apartment. there's something about the stairs in the house leading to the 2nd floor. The 5feet painting banged against the wall even when there wasn't breeze. All you need is to politely ask it to stop. It did. The space below the stairs was always wet. the floor. and only that part of the house. wet floor humid. both apartments there's always sounds of marbles falling at night. 4th floor ...fine maybe it's the children the apt above... 11th floor... the highest floor?... kids below? 50% of the time. the aprt below's unoccupied. above? watertank? Distinctively dropping of marbles, glass. not metal popping. not pop pop. it's kling and roll like a marble roll around a tile surface... and sometimes a few bounces. it's a full kind of sound not hollow like metal often sounds with a bit of echo. If you have lived in an unearthily occupied house and a clean house, new or old, you feel the difference. The density is different. The ease and ineasiness is different too. The worst were the toilets in our school, primary school...Bright clean airy toilet. but you never! never want to go in alone. The feeling of terror. very weird. waking up when I was 9 I dreaded waking up, dread. Dragging myself to school, dragging myself home from school. at 15, nothing changed. The dread of a new day, dragging my feet to school alone, dragging my feet home alone. Nothing changed. at 20, the dread, the weariness, the emptiness. It's tiring, it's stupid, it's kliche, it's irritating. It's exhausting, it's painful. at 28 the same dread and wreariness and emptiness. Will it ever end? at 32 nothing changed. The feeling of hate, dread, wreariness and emptiness upon the second of waking. I"m so tired. The same dull feeling for the past 20 over years, everyday. I'm so tired. Really tired. When will it ever end? Years. I wish I died in dreams. I don't care if it's a bloody nightmare. At least it felt more real there than here. Die I want to die. Please let me die. If you won't, at least let me get paid for thework I have done and been doing, just to survive. Please. My haed hurts so much I'm going to throwo up...it's giving me tummy upset...urrrgh stupid Damn it must wait urrgh why all 30 years is it all about endurances? Endurances towards my father's temper, my mother's very annoying martyrism, not going to the toilet in shool, trafic lights, one more page finishing one more page, waiting, and waiting and hoping the hopeless, pain, itch, pain, itch, pain, itch, disappointments more disappointments... being positive, staying positive just for show, it smothers... my head hurts urrrgh my throat burns urrrgh this is mindblowing stupid. I wish I know what people think of my art... I ratherly ever get comments. I wanted to ask if they think it is disgusting, amueturish, stupid, boring, horrid, plain...etc I need to know because I'm not getting work, not getting jobs. Nobody wants my service. I want to die. I plainly say I want to die. My mother is coughly bloodcurdly loud and hard as if she wishes to destroy her throat. My cats are not very well. My father does nothing but comment badly of everything out there. I can't get work. I'm not getting paid fairly. The money for the painted vinyls for wayforward barely cover the postage, paint and time spent on them. $100 for 2... it took the whole day... $150 for an A4 illustration....they paid Pat 2000... wait they still haven't responded to my invoice. I'm not hopeful. The children illustrations... this is the 4th change now... for $13... is my skill that poor? Let me die. I hate this world. I can't bare it. How am I supposed to take care of my grumpy parents and elderly cats.... I don't even go out I don't even shop... I'm not even healthy myself...Monday neauseous headache. Tuesday headache. Wednesday headache damn the rain. Thursday eczema and pain... damn the skin cracked up bleeding again. Friday tummy problem... can't even focus right now because of it, it's queer, feel like throwing up... it's gurgling and churning and crunching.. my brain is flying away as if lacking of oxygen... what next tomorrow? I can't live. It would be better if I never exist. I'm tired and sick of being tired. I have no friends, no money, no good looks, nothing. I hate people, hate the way they are killing everything off the surface of the earth and not care about it and would not listen about it. I'm sick of people we are not evolving for the better. Take a good look, or take a long hard good look at people... we are turning into waste. We are garbage, either painted sticks or sickly fats. sucking up the earth surface dry like vampires and we multiply like viruses. We are a nightmare! I can't bare it. I can't live. I have no soul left. It had long erroded away by pain and dismal. They are both very acidic... they do taste acidic I assure you. Everyday everyday everyday everday disappointment after disappointment my whole life child to adult, school to office. I'm disappointment itself, shame. Shame. Grotesque. I'm so ugly, people shun me. I can't look into the mirror because it mocks me. Nobody has ever praised my looks not even my own father. I'm total shame. The lowest of the lowest living being, lifeform, conscious. And out there the bloodly stalker won't leave me alone. LEAVE ME ALONE YOU SICK SICK DISGUSTING BLOND DEVIL. I HATE YOU! I HATE him! GO AWAY! The bastard dellusioned liar! THE sick sick... so sick I wanted to clean and wash inside out intestines, in the ears, my tongue everything inside out again and again again with soap and more soap just thinking of that thing. I wish he burn and burn and burn in hell and get cut up every minute, skinned alive and poured acid and salt while being skinned and burn and burn till not a single particle or proton is left of that gross thing in every single univere out of the infinite univeres out there. I need to go try and throw up. Any god gods divine beings out there.. aliens ghosts devils demons yeti... kill me. Let me die. Please. I know you all hate me. You all dislike and mock me because I'm so disgusting. Yes? I'm disgusting I'm violently revolted. I had no friends, I still have no friends... just not good at it. I wasn't allowed friends. Nobody wants to be my friend anyway. Not to a retarded looking girl who blends to the background like the lowest grade shinobu. You know, if I'm so smart and talented I wouldn't be drawing my blodd away for your penny. I'd be drawing a penny for your blood and gold. I'm a sad freak. Nobody would notice if I'm gone. I guarrante it. The only sole thing in the world that I have confidence in. my mother's constant coughing is driving me insane. irritatingly insane. Cough cough every few mins. She outright refused to see a doctor, and cough with all her mights. Loud and... very loud and sharp. With her mouth wide open. She says she need to clear her throat.. it seems as though she is killing her throat. It's driving me mad. I can't stand it. She doesn't do it when she is outside... only at home.... It's making me want to kill or throw something very hard at the wall. When I show my sister a video online, she would ask, don't you have work today? Can't I have a rest?.. I just worked, staring at the screen for 2 hours nonstop... When I go out, or baked a cake which I knew nobody was going to eat, my parents would ask, Didn't you say you have a lot of work to do? When Irene and sharon asked me out for lunch and I agreed, they would say, So you are not busy today? No work? Actually I went out with them, I baked a cake because I was tired. My brain's tired, it helps me think plot problems through slowly and clearly. Same with showers. But people always think I'm not working, that I'm lazy, I'm stupid. I'm wrong. Always wrong. Alway always forever wrong. Becasue I'm stupid. Forever the sorry stupid one at that corner. I hate those p?itying looks they give. I know I'm stupid but I don't want to be pitied, you can look down on me, I would feel hurt, but I don't want pity. I rather kill you... no, I rather I disappear from the surface of this world. I'm a pathetic sight anyway. It disgusts me that I'm shameless enough to carry on living without diginity. Revolting. The bad taste in the tongue. Everyone talks to me and treats me like a retard. Because I stutter and look lost and couldn't respond to a question. I can't help it! My mind was firing away with things and thoughts to say all at the same time and I dont' know which thought to choose which to say what to say . My mouth won't move, my brain won't slow down. Panic and my mind ends up blank and I end looking blank and retarded. Hate it! Hate it! Hate hate hate hate it! Stupid brain! Stupid stupid self! It's no wonder my father was always calling me a retarded cabbage. Retarded. Stupid. I hate being careless! I hate being careless! I hate being careless! I hate being careless! I hate being careless! It's a plague! Whyyyyy can't I be more careful? Like every other normal human being? No matter hhhhhow hard I try~~ I'm still careless. Damn it! Damn it! When can't I do something worth a penny of a minute of existence for once?!!!! My stories sucks, everything i do stucks. The cloth trends I draw were always years too early, nothing is on time, there is never enough time, always running out of time. Every single moment of my existence, everything I created, they are worthless. Worthless. Not a digit or a decimal worth. Not even worth a nano second of time itself. The realization hurts. It hurts a lot a lot a lot. It hurts all the way the the core of ghost of my dead soul. I want to disembowel myself. I want to use my own bare hands and gutt out all my intestines. I want to laugh at the sight, and my own idocy. The blood is warm, I probably would threw up at the sight, but I want to laugh like a maniac, enjoying it thoroughly and laugh till my jaws dislocate. Then I shall die. I can imagine that. Such a pleasant sight. Heeheehee. If only I do not have the sense of bodily pain. If only. Heeheeheeeee such very very pleasant sweet thought. what do you happy people know about pain if you have lived 30 years stuck in your head of unscratchable, unexplainable itch of pain. Tell me you love life. unscratchable. You can bang and bang you head against the wall till reflex of head pain makes you stop. But the itch won't go away. Anything wrong it's me. Anything missing, I've got it. To them anything that isn't right it's my fault. Who took the cup, who broke that, who taught you this, you are a bad exaample.... Throw away a cake because nobody wants it, they say- the eggs were free anyway it's alright. I tried so hard to make the cake... no one bite, not even a look. When I don't feel like eating, they say- why are you doing this to me? Why are you making us all miserable? I can't kick the bed, throw a plate. They say- what have the bed done, the plate had done you no wrong. I can't scream, I can't cry, I can't talk bad, they say- hold it in, let it be... I can't, I just want to knock my head on the wall till it spilt but it hurt so much I stopped. Cut myself... I cna't they will see it. THe only way to cut it so it won't leave a mark is to press the knife really hard down, but slowly. I'm useless. nobody respect me. everyone looks upon me as a slow retarded person. Plain and dull. And linguistically challenged. Never being able to do a single thing right. I can do my best and still be invisible. Really invisible. Clean the house, she accuse you of not helping with washing the plates. Try joining in a conversation, nobody ever noticed u are there. 10 years in the comic industry, just as invisible as if you never exist. Hated school. Not a single person wanted to play or do project or even eat with me. Not bullying. Not even rumours. Nothing. Nothing at all, as if I do not exist. Being plain ugly do not help. Teachers used to miss me out, even till now. They forgot I was there. Even in places. people startled at times becacuse they failed to notice my presence. Even at home... did she go out? In shops, at conventions, in school...everywhere. Since I never did exist, do not... why not let me die.... enough of stuff about selfish and family... it hurts everyday every second, I'm choking everyday. It's the same as torture. To fill your satifaction is to live in torture every minute. If you really care(Who the hell would care about me, my parents think I'm a burden I'm sure!. Brought them damn hell nothing but pain and hurt and tears, my sister looks apon me as pile of pee! So what good is it for me to live on? Do everyone good that I go away forever and ever and ever and better still never even been there. Sweet how sweet) The divine beings see me as a joke, a comic. Entertainment. A joke. Please... pleaseeee let me die? Pleaseeeeeee the poor and more unfortunate could do with the space space, spare food. Less carbon footprint, one less bastard to kill the environment. What's so bad about that? Nobody will miss me. My family will finally be freed of the blacksheep, the bad example to her younger sister. The eldersister who is a shame, utter shameee. I have no close friends. Those I know probably won't bat an eye, and I don't even have a boyfriend. Never had one. Who wants a mood swinging psychopath? Not many even read my stuff, those who do probably will probably just shrug and move on. What am I anyway but nothing. Absolute nothing. pure crap. Total filth, utterly revolting sick human vomit. pain in and out, today hands, arms, tomorrow tummy, face, eyes, hair, next day insides, heart. everyday everyday everyday. The fortunate privilaged middleclass... but a poorer farmer in the mud field, a child in the rubbish dump are probably 100 times happier than I ever could beable be. Everything I do seems to be more of a bother to others than of any help or whats not. Having dinner with my family will just bring them urk and unhappiness. By avoiding having dinner with them upsets them too. But at least they have peace at dinner. Why should I take their food since I'm such a useless person who doesn't contribute to anything but grief? It's better not to. A good way to punish oneself for being a useless puke. I shan't take anything I didn't pay for, and doesn't deserve. expired food, ok. ???????. I damn hell don't deserve anything nice. I rightly do not deserve one drop of happiness.. or anything at all. Disgusting! Disgusting! revoltingly sick sick sick! pile of puke! useless stupid piece of shit good for nothing! nothing but a bother to the family. Nothing but a bother. No matter how hard I try, keeping the house clean, keeping the plants alive, making dinners. It cannot compare to contributing money and income to the household. At least my sister bought the family car. Me? I'm just a low life black sheep, alwayyyys giving them grief as they've always complained. You are making my blood pressure worse. You caused me to fall sick. Why are you always doing this to us? What have we done to deserve this? Eat this, or I will get sicker. Stop this or I will die from my blood pressure. Stop it. Cut it out. Stop bring a princess. Stop being sulky.... Me, nothing but grief, shame and trouble to the family. Seriously and honestly they are better without such an existence. The world doesn't give a damn of course, but one less, all the better. The only way I can think of is to keep out of existence as mighty possible as I can. Out of their lives. When suicide is considered an act of cowardiance, When hunting animals is fun and a game, When food is no longer for survival, and food wastage becomes a routine, Something is very wrong about humans. It takes courage to die. Who would want to die if it doesn't hurt so much that you prefer death to life like a patient with terminal illness? Why do people always accuse people who commit suicide as cowards. Selfish bastards. To keep one from dying is plain selfishness. You are torturing them. I can't snap out of it. I'm not pretending. I'm not attention seeking. I'm not throwing a tantrum. I'm not trying to kill you with highblood pressure. I'm not trying to be ungrateful. I'm not throwing my moodswings around. I can't help it! It is a painkiller. A pain relief. A drug. It is not a pain or itch you can scratch, or touch, or pull or remove with surgery. It hurts. Really. It is there every second, every micro second. Try and live in our shoes and see if you wish to wake up tomorrow. It is even worse when the suicide didn't work. let me die. I'm so tired pushing the rock up the hill which keeps rolling down halfway up. why is it that when I come home at night saw a cat and asked my family to bring a bit of food down for it, they always got angry. So much so, I never asked them again, and instead carry kibbles whereever I go. But it's different when my sister asked, not only did they not get annoyed, they hurried down kibbles..... why? It is a fact that, artists' works are worth more after their deaths. They always awlayyyys do. Since the begining of time. But of course there are also many of us who will fade away without even existing in the first place. And of course you can't tell or say this to anyone while you are still alive, they will just get angry. Or try to debunk it... they will just get annoyed. People do not like blunt truths. They prefer romance and comfort. Urh the stupid pain...makes my face and scalp itch. Damn the pain. my knees ache my back hurts. The head feels dense. There's a kitten needing a $800 surgery and I haven't been paid for the past 6 months. And father's birthday is next week. Damn it all damn it. It will have to be bread and some spread for tomorrow's class. Damn it the bread will make the tummy bloats and feel like a basket ball, and the brain like a brick. It is so very very very very hard to keep on, to go on, to keep smiling, when nobody cares about what you do. When nobody wants to pay you for the work done, or least, even give it a glance. When there is not a word out there, not a word. So quiet that you wonder if you even exist, if your work has even been read or looked at. And I doubt. Without money, i can buy materials, I can't work. But who cares. Nobody cares about what I have to say, made, want to do, did, the reasons... Nobody wants to. It is so hard to wake up in the morning. From being a human, to an artist, to a female, to a thinking lifeform, to a daughter, to a friend. I do not exist at all. You will never hear our father praise us. Never. He never praises us. But he will not hesitate for a nano second to praise the slightest anything and anyone from China or his family. It urks. We are nothing but bothersome and stupid and low esteem low lives to him. It urks. I work so hard, try so hard but it goes nowhere. Not in Amercia, not in Japan, not even in Taiwan, and the least and worst in Singapore. Not with family, not the slightest with friends... not a sound, not a pin drop. Not a word. Not a rumour. I can't feel my own existence. I don't feel real nor alive. I don't feel alive. I can't tell. I'm either invisible or non-existent. It's so tiring so tiring. They see but choose not to see. I'm in this world nothing but a piece of garbage that blends into a pile of rotting trash.. It's so hard to carry on. So hard when nobody would even spare a side glance. It's so tiring. So very very very very tiring. It felt like I'm draging a huge huge cold iron ball on my back, climbing and climbing but never never ever a stepforward. It's so tiring. I'm so tired. irony? strange. always wished someone in class would talk to me, or ask for phone no. exchange.... well of course nobody ever called. since visiting friends weren't allowed. school trips weren't allowed school clubs not allowed. Of course nobody called. Nowadays it feels rather nice to be alone afterall. no worries about what to say how to etc. Really really hate it when it comes. You never know when it is going to come till it is too late... It hurts hurts so much that I get diarrhoea The knee and tummy clamps and clumps and bloats The head spins and the ringing in the ears get louder than usual. It gets difficult to breath properly, and you feel both hot and cold at the same time. Which makes one really exhausted and drowsy The skin turns rubbish, absolutely rubbish and hideous. You get hurt more easily... with sprains and bruises... Hate it when it comes. So much precious time wasted on fighting the pain. Having read an article... why is the British Government paying their cizitens who couldn't be bothered to work? I have arthritis, I have eczema, I have tinitus, I have very bad mood swings and hellish cramps etc... I work. I'm sick 1/2 the times, but those are not death threatening illness. Just get sick, sink in sickness, get up and work again. How can a person with personality be considered too sick to work? Why should anyone do anything to keep me alive? Not my parents, not the government... they probably know I exist as in a name, a number in the registry, but not as a person. Our society is ridiculous. Absurd. I find it incredibly impossible to believe that anyone likes my artwork for what it is. I can't comprehend. Nobody likes my work. How can that be possible? I can't find jobs. They don't like the noses, the fingers, the look, the expressions, the feel they say. I feel like crying. It hurts so much. It hurts so very very very much. But I can't cry. I just can't. And it just continues to hurt and hurt and hurt for years and years and years and more years to come. I'm not cute nor pretty. Don't lie. My parents have never praised me for my brain or looks, or for the matter of fact, anything at all. I'm- in their eyes- trouble, the cause of the problems and troubles. Nor friends. Nor strangers. people don't praise me for my looks or brains. People only praise me for my ignorance and naiveness, uniqueness and idividuality ie. stupidity and a freak outcast. To them it is a novelty, they have to like a novelty. They don't like it. I know I'm ugly. So please don't lie. It doesn't help. It hurts. Nobody has ever tried to ask me out, ever, and I know, never. I think I smell bad. I do smell bad. stinks. Why am I even here? Nobody listens. I'm totally a redundant existence. Nobody read my work. Why do I continue to write? Why do I continue to talk? For what? For who? For what purpose? For what reason? I can't see my future. Everytime I try to imagine it, it's all dreary, isolated, painful. What am I fighting for? For what? Why do I fight on, knowing it is a futile fight. How can a happy contented person comprehend how I feel? 30 years, it hurt. It hurts so much, the dull pain increasing like a dark hole every passing year. It hurts so much but yet you can't cry it out, You can't tell, you can't say. You can't do anything about it because nobody will listen. Those who might , do not exist in my life. It hurts it hurts it's so painful it's scary how one can get used to pain and let it grow. Oh it hurts. It is unbearable... dealing with people. Can't bear it when they get upset or angry...or bothered. It is frightening... maybe because I was so used to being afraid of the dreadful wait to... the anticipation as to when my father's temper would explode- when I would get mad when I was young. Be it breaking of a plate.. be it not understanding what he was teaching me. be it not being able to find a parking lot... be it lashing out fustration at mother. The fear never went away. The dread of facing a disappointed face, or angry outburst.... I break into cold sweat... just shut down, feels as if I'm in a vacumm space. It feels numbing. Preplexed with horror. Horror! Worse than the most horrible nightmare I've ever had. I don't want to go through that I don't want to go through that I don't want to go through that I don't want to go through that I don't want to go through that I don't want to go through that I don't want to go through that I don'wt want to go through that I don't want to go through that I don't want to meet people, I don't want to meet people I don't want to meet people I don't want to meet people I don't want to meet people... can't... can't can't can't. I dont' trust them I don't I don't I don't. I just want to get out of this house. I'm useless to this family. Useless. useless useless useless. I don't need a big house or a lot of money... just enough for my cats to be comfortable... I don't care if I die, as long as my cats are safe... Can't even do that now... I'm useless. Useless!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Acquaintances and friendships are made to be ended. Everyone always leaves. Why is it sooooo difficult to find jobs? I know I'm not a good artist, illustrator or even comic book artist, least anything else... but I can't be the worst... can I? Nobody wants to employ or use my artwork...N O B O D Y! all the searches in vain.... nothing nothing at all Publishers don't want my comics.... I wait and wait and wait and wait and wait. watching people flip my books and the sign of boredom and disgust on their faces... I don't even have a word for how it felt like. Am I such a bad artist? Even when I did get jobs. They didn't want drawing in my own usual style. They wanted someone else's style. Always someone else's style... It's not cute, no design sense, not the kind people are comfortable with, the characters' eyes not making contact with the reader, witch-like, scary, gross, emo, weird nose,funny limbs... etc. Even my "friend- cum- free-manager" doesn't like my work... people I know do not look at my works, not even my family. I don't know what to say... I should be cleaning public toilets... I think I kinda know how kikikomori feel. it's uncomfortable outside, it's uncomfortable where there are people. Are they laughing at us? It feels uncomfortable and uneasy when a person comes near you... how do you react? What do you say? What if they laugh at you? What if you stumble and just... just get stuck? they are going to think you are mentally retarded or something... or that you dress weird or talk weird or walk weird, if they don't like you- which they often do... or find you boring or stupid.... Staying in your room helps save a bit of the little money you have. ???????????????????????????????????????????????????? ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ?????????????????????????????????????????????? When I look at other people's artwork I can't help but think- wao everyone is so talented, it's no wonder nobody wants my artwork. It's no wonder. Earnestly. It hurts, chasing, searching, never on the path, never heard. All I can do is gaze at the brilliances brisk on the path of blossom and sweet breezes from within the fog of the silence and decay in the distant. It's lonely. I can't feel my own esixtence. I can't feel that I'm alive. I don't feel human. I don't feel I belong- anywhere. I don't feel awake. There is no one I can tell, no way I can tell. No one who would listen. No one who would ever want to listen. No one who would ever look over here. Ever. It has been this way ever since young. Since the first day of school, of entering the world populated with people. Everyday I feel a bit of my soul? breaking off and sinking away into black tar stuff. The feel of the weight is opressing, suffocating, dead. I don't feel sorry, I'm just tired. Fighting and fighting and struggling for 30 years in vain... total absolute in vain . I'm so so so tired. so so so very tired. Shameeeeee Shameful shameful. I've lived a life of shame shame shame shame shame. Nothing but shame. I did nothing but dying since the day of birth. I was nothing but rot and decay since the day of birth. Unicivil? A thing can not be uncivil unless it is used uncivilly by an uncivillised wielder.... I don't get praised often. Not by my family, not by people I know. Not for anything at all. Can't help but think that everything I did, everything I do, doesn't matter, doesn't exist. They are all just another piece of trash. Disregarded. Once in a very purple moon if I get praised by a stranger ... my brain simply rejects the compliment altogether. I can't believe it, I don't. Must have misheard it, it must be someone else... it can't be me... that's not possible. I'm trash. Yes. I'm trash. Nobody wants my work, nobody likes me. It isn't possible. How can it be possible? 32 years. It has been too long. 32 years to 1 compliment. Who is right? the 32 years of course. I want to cry. But I can't cry, and won't. Not because I am sad, but because it is hopeless. Because it is empty, because it is meaningless. Because I'm stuck in the grey void of realities. There is nothing to hold onto, Nothing to stand on, Nothing to climb up with, no door to open, no voice to speak with or speak to. Just mounting whirling pressuring gases of feelings waiting and waiting to... I don't know... just waiting and imploding that's all. Ever since we moved into this apartment, the construction works going on has never stopped, never creased. 4 years... First it was the patching up works on this new condominum.. new... barely a year and already there were cracks and faults everywhere. THen there's the road construction which last a whole year... pounding drilling right outside our door step... the smoke... the noise In between someone renovated their private property across the road. When those ended... within a week or a few weeks or so, they we constructing a bus stop right outside the condo... meanwhile upthe street they were working on the drain and the road... again. Right after allll those ended, another priviate property began it's construction works. Tearing down of the old building, pounding in the pillars, the cranes... till... now... It's suffocating here. The air smells, my ears hurt and really hurt all day, my head hurts even with the windows closed. It's hot... can't breath.... everything smells and the whole house is dirty... my cats get sick I get sick, eczema gets worse... hearing gets worse.... It's hard to get any work done... even when I worked late I couldn't get up late because they start drilling and throwing things around.. and the engines...etc promptly at 8... and lasted all day till 8pm... all these while, neighbours were moving out, new ones moving in and renovating... I can't work... I want to cry.... I can't work I can't settle down. Fustrations keep boiling inside.. those strange feelings. I hate my life.... it's not fair... I can't stand it... Look if you really hate me so much please just kill me.... Ever since I was born, I have never been happy... i can't I don't know how... my family isn't happy... I never have friends I can't keep up with them... their lives, I can't afford to hang out with them because I have no money, there isin't anything to talk about, I'm stupid, I'm ugly, I'm flumpily shaped, I'm sick and awkward, I have never dated, never been asked out, people generally ignored and avoided me or pitied me for my stupidty. I'm always running and running and running and running but going nowhere... I'm so tired... do you know how tired that is? I dont' even know how to describe it... I'm tired... I can't live as a human.... I can't... I'm too empty I'm too sad... you have taken everything... It is too late to be happy now... too late to even learn how now, and I know it will never happen. I can never, ever, ever, ever attain happiness, like a normal person. simple little delights everyone I know seems to hold. I can laugh I smell, but I don't know what they mean Do you know you can see how you feel inside your heart... the dull dull dense weight... it feels dark... it's not blackness it's dense, empty just dark without any colours... i see it...i feel it... it feels as if I'm made up of just all that, and have to live with it forever. Is it so much fun to torture someone... are you laughing now? the only thing I have left is this empty hollow dead life. Take it, please.