the liar

what's worse? to be a liar? or to be a genius?

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    there will be no introduction today. dearest. reader. only a warning of perhaps somewhat graphic or mature imagery and a reply to your grievances:
        "for a feminist you talk a lot on the blog about men". fair point, dear reader. i understand your plight,
but i'm going to ignore that yet again.
        "big words for big words' sake". fine. 

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three weeks ago i awoke to red lines. across my chest the words "liar or genius" persist today. scar. my usual weapon of choice is a needle- i say is. what i mean is was. my troubled teenage years are where i thought i'd left this tendency. it grows old and tired, this means of collecting attention. i said i was drunk the night before. i was. i was i was i was i was but it does not detract from what i am. it does not really give me false actions. so what is it to be, dais? liar? or genius?

recently i've been writing "tales" on this blog. i worried when i publicised it that it would reflect as a diary which was not the intention. when i started it i'd say anything. i'm taking this post for myself though so, fuck you all. i hate you all, by the way. smack you in the face? does it? they said in the June (THE DOCTORS) that i have a certain Borderline Personality Disorder. hmm. i fought tooth and nail over the last few months for stability. i am good i am kind i am not a bad guy i am pretty i am not THIN ENOUGH i need new shoes (you know, these sorts of thoughts and things). my mantra spins round and around and around and around and none of you like me, that's for sure. and you all hate this blog. and you all hate me. and i hate you all. and i am two sides of the same coin. lie? lie? liaR .

it starts 1 minute and 33 seconds in, readying for the full 9:50. it's a long song. i loved it at one point- or maybe i didn't. told myself i did, though. all of the four have loved Black Country New Road. the four boyfriends. WHY IS SHE MENTIONING THEM AGAIN HAS SHE NOTHING ELSE TO TALK ABOUT well considering they've consumed nearly five years of my life uh probably NOT. that band are hailed as heroes. that band crawls into my fucking ears and screams trumpets and reminders and evil evil horrible nasty words. i love BCNR. friends forever, right? yeah. i know. 

you know, tom listened to Basketball Shoes 348 times last year? and the one before him saw them live. and the one before him has them littered in playlists. and the one before him showed me Sunglasses- the first one, first song for my first time. oh reader Jesus it's been years. its not even December! cry cry CRY ABOUT IT

i only only digest cheese and broccoli pasta it's all i can stomach. the smell follows me. do you know how much it disgusts me that you all listen to kanye west? i can play runaway on the keys but i'll be damned if i force a cent to that fucker's online banking, hey! maybe i love Black Country New Road. maybe after he forced himself inside me i actually loved listening to Sunglasses. maybe i could barely walk the next day. well you know what i lose myself in the light of the tv. too. i don't have bpd. i'm fucking fine, can you all see? how well im doing? :) i lied earlier i love you all please don't leave me please keep reading i'm a lost SOUL i'm part of your groups i've made space in your heart? can you find it in yourselves to forgive me, dearest reader(s)? i'll shave my head again so you can all see what a martyr i am. i'll do whatever you want me to do please i beg im begging let me be a part of it all. i swear i'm starting to understand BCNR. i get it, i love it, i even added them to my playlists like you dearest check me out!!!!! all hail right?

mrs Davies was my favourite teacher in school (her and mrs Harris) and she showed me a piece of art that i understood then before i knew why i understood it. year by year i've taken it with me. 4.48 psychosis. it's a play written by Sarah Kane. it's pretty much the old reliable for me. my bible. that and Ariel. they'll put me in the ward one day. they'll drag me by my ankles, earlobes, labia, upper lip. bite bite bite. bite. come on dearest reader. come on you fucker. BITE.

oh i've lied forever. i've always been a liar. don't believe a word from my mouth. but also do... right? because thats how this works. you have no choice. that's the genius of it- see?

i wonder if they'll respond to this well. perhaps they'll think i'm suffering. with my skin carvings and my inferiority/superiority complexes and my indulgent BLOG POSTS and my thinning starving waist (I"M NOT EATINGGGGG AND IW ONT) yes the typo was intentional. guys! no. you're wrong. i should be seen as a visionary. i should be shot dead. 

genius? 

liar?

i am so ignorant now with all that i have learned. 

sincerely, the caravan girl.