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Revenge. I had a dream last night, I'd call it a nightmare but a part of me just calls it a reminder. It was me and my father. He had a driver's license and we were driving along a highway in a gray Volkswagen, you know those ones that kind of look like bubbles on wheels? My brother was in the backseat with me, half-brother to be exact, from my mother's new marriage. My little buddy. We'd stolen him. My father had a genius plan of getting back at my mother. We drove far away to a big storage building. My brother stayed quiet and looked out the window as though mute, his eyes on the road, and he looked so much older and smarter for the almost-three-year-old he is. His eyes were so old and knowing. In the storage building, apparently, was an illegal orphanage. My father had a plan of dropping my brother off there, forging my mother's signature and telling the police she had sold him. Of course, in my dream, this made perfect sense and was the perfect plan in destroying her. Throughout the dream I went over it, thinking why I was participating in this, looking after my brother as he walked off around the storage building as though in acceptance of his new home. I woke up crying. Not because the dream scared me but because I was frightened of the whole situation I have been swerved into, where I do not hold a single scrap of trust to almost anyone and where I hardly know anyone anymore because the people I trusted once have changed over time, some more than others.
Today was supposed to be my big day. Today was supposed to be my day. I was supposed to perform my choreography, a sort of final thesis if you will, and I was supposed to receive my diploma in dance soon after. Not a big diploma, no university degree, but a door-opener, something I'd been working hard for for so long. But no. All this shit has got to me instead. I was dying in that town. So many parts of me were ready to quit. I couldn't let that happen.
I suppose this means I have taken a side. I suppose this means goodbye. I suppose this means I lose my father. I do not know anymore. I do not know anything. I do not want to take sides, except for my own. I want the life I have been working for, and will work for. I have had enough of these fucked up situations slowing me down and pulling me back. I will have my life, I will have my freedom and I will have my happiness. I want my sanity back. I want to get rid of these pre-psychotic post-trauma symptoms and the raging depression and self-hate and self-doubt and the voices in my head and the paranoia. I want it to march the fuck out of my brain.
I've been off blogging for a bit because of Easter and everything so I thought I'd make a little bit of comeback-bloghopping so to speak. It's been a while since I've bumped into new blogging buddies so let's see if I would meet some new people today =) I know it is Friday the 13th, and even though I don't believe in stuff like that it certainly has not been the best of Fridays.
It has been an eventful week though. I came back to Grandpa's by train on Monday after saying goodbye to my best friend who flew back to Stockholm on the same day. He'd spent Easter with me and my family. It was very lovely and fun and healthy for me to have him around, and I miss him very much already.
On Tuesday I went back to dance class after Easter Break. Was not that rusty, surprisingly, since I usually am after having some sort of holiday. Somehow hit my little finger on someone's sharp nail and it cut me so that I was bleeding onto the floor of the dance studio. I am so talented at getting myself physically hurt. I'm just so clumsy. I burnt my hand the same day while getting scones out of the oven.
Wednesday I had my first ever session of hair modeling. I was at this hairdressing and make-up school since 10 AM. They did my hair and my make-up (for free might I add) and gave me free vegan pizza and soda while doing it. There were eight of us models, and it was really fun meeting new people. At 3 PM we went to the place where we had the seminar/show for clients aka hairdressers and hairdressing students. I got to wear a 179 euro summer dress (!). They finished up our hairdo's on stage to demonstrate their techniques and after the show all the people came to take pictures of us from all angles and it was kind of intimidating but fun. I ran from hair modeling to art modeling. I still had my bright orange eyeshadow and fake eyelashes while posing for art students. It suited the moment, though, since it was the 1st birthday of the whole Drink&Draw thing. I was asked whether I'd like to pose for this arts class every Friday for four hours. I could make some very much needed money from this.
I have a tendency to being weird and doing weird things and also, liking people who have the same tendency. I don't know how to define weird. I don't think of it as a negative word at all. But I am one weird kid.
Weird things I do:
I personify things and objects. A lot. I hadn't noticed this before, until a friend of mine pointed it out to me. I'll talk to objects and give them orders. I'll tell a wobbly bottle not to fall over. If there's just one tomato left on the table, I'll put it back in the fridge so that it doesn't get lonely. The list goes on...
I try to sing along to songs on my iPod when I go running. Which makes me pant and groan like an old horse at times. I also have to run to the rhythm of the song. If it's slower I take bigger steps or leaps...
I shave my legs with hair conditioner. My skin hates those foamy things, I'll get a terrible rash. Plus hair conditioner is smoother anyway so it's easier to shave, and it's pretty see-through depending on the product of course.
I arrange the clothes in my wardrobe by their color. I just think it looks neater. People I know have thought this weird because I might have long sleeved t-shirts and sleeveless tops in the same pile. So? I know what clothes are in which pile on which shelf...
I read books out loud when I'm alone, usually trying out some accents I very much suck at and I make myself laugh hysterically. It is also similar when I read normally; depending on the location of the story of the nationality of the writer, I read them in different accents in my head.
I have zero ability to sleep on my back. I always have to sleep on one side, with one knee stuck out and a pillow between my knees and something (usually my teddybear or when I'm at my girlfriend's I curl up around her) to cuddle with.
I put ketchup on macaroni & cheese. My girlfriend thinks it's weird but I don't know the standard since it is no normal food where I come from so... Is it weird?
When I can't sleep I listen to Coldplay and pretend I'm on a boat or a hammock, something that feels like floating. I also imagine myself levitating above my bed - it means I start losing feeling in my body which means it is relaxing and when I have no feeling at all I am just floating through the room until sleep catches me.
Wednesday I had my first ever session of hair modeling. I was at this hairdressing and make-up school since 10 AM. They did my hair and my make-up (for free might I add) and gave me free vegan pizza and soda while doing it. There were eight of us models, and it was really fun meeting new people. At 3 PM we went to the place where we had the seminar/show for clients aka hairdressers and hairdressing students. I got to wear a 179 euro summer dress (!). They finished up our hairdo's on stage to demonstrate their techniques and after the show all the people came to take pictures of us from all angles and it was kind of intimidating but fun. I ran from hair modeling to art modeling. I still had my bright orange eyeshadow and fake eyelashes while posing for art students. It suited the moment, though, since it was the 1st birthday of the whole Drink&Draw thing. I was asked whether I'd like to pose for this arts class every Friday for four hours. I could make some very much needed money from this.
