And if we break before the dawn...

...we'll use up what we used to be.

Never did get over it did you Matthew?



...her*...


Ah but you wouldn't be you without being pathetic. Just take another painkiller and roll over Matt. Sleep forever.

Hello...

...my name is Matt Mather but you can call me Row. I'm 22, a Leo, I enjoy walks in the dark, drawing and bashing my head repeatedly against my desk until I draw blood.

I mean BLOODY ODDS BODKINS!!!

My life is fucking clown shoes! And I'm the one who makes it so. I, like everybody else am doomed to repeat the same cycle of events again and again until I give up and tape my eyelids shut, hide in the cupboard under the stairs and quietly sing Gloomy Sunday to myself.

...Ok so that last one was probably exclusive to me but we all repeat the same tired crap over and over again.

Hills and valleys, peaks and troughs, a whole jolly pirate rollarcoaster without anything nearly as interesting as pirates. That's life isn't it and life isn't fair. I hear that a lot, I mean it's the standard response when you make any form of complaint or comment about how much life sucks. What a startlingly useful bit of wisdom that is!

I hate me, I'm a horrible excuse for a human being. Which is one of the reasons I sabotage my own life and push most people away when I get the chance. So I shouldn't complain really, it's my own fault. But all the same, I hate my life and I hate being me.

Hello, I'm Matt Mather. That is my crime, it is also my punishment.


{I'm a whiney little brat sometimes aren't I? :P}

Design Issues

I need to give this page a revamp, looking at it is starting to depress me.

Maybe I should go for the total opposite and have bright colours and smiley faces all over it or something.

Ah who the hell cares, no-one comes here anyway :P

Perception

Men idolise women. It's why sometimes we date the most atrocious people. And it's the main cause of why we get so hurt when a relationship ends. It's that sting of realising she's not a goddess or an angel, she's a human being as real and ugly as we are.

A friend of mine whilst he was going through a particularly bad breakup (so we'll allow him some bitterness) put it this way:

"2% of the time women are the most wonderful and beautiful people on Earth. However the other 98% of the time they can be unreasonable, irratable, unpleasant and cruel. But it's the 2% that we fall in love with and that 2% is all we see then. Love makes you blind to the ugly parts of a person."

And in my dim view of humanity, the ugly parts make up the majority of a whole.


Are women more cruel than men when it comes to breaking hearts? I don't think so, they're just better at distancing themselves emotionally in order to do what must be done. Men find it hard to distance themselves from anything they have any emotional investment in. Other than sex of course. This gives rise to the phrase,

"Men are prone to casual sex, women are prone to casual love."


Can a relationship last if neither party idolises and puts the other on a pedastal? If when they look at each other they see another human, warts and all?
It seems unlikely. People continue to fall in love and rave about how perfect this person is, or how wonderful.

Nobody is perfect.

Nobody is wonderful.

When we think that way we are only setting ourselves up for a disappointing fall and in some cases, heartbreak.

Look beyond the wings and the halo and see the human. The reality may be no match for the legend but at least it's honest. Afterall once the dream fades, all we're left with is the reality.

Stop me if you've heard this one...

A drunk walks into a bar and asks, "does anybody here own a six foot penguin?" Everyone says "no", he says "shit I've just run over a nun!"

I went to the doctor and I said "doctor can you help me out?" He said "yes, which way did you come in?" I said "what's good for wind?" and he gave me a kite

A bear for christ's sake!

So she gave me a teddy bear sprayed with her perfume to "keep the nightmares away". I did not sleep with the bear, however when she came to pick it up I had put in the bed and it looked like I had been. She refused to believe that I didn't sleep with the blasted thing, like her trinket would help me sleep better.

She seems to be under some misguided idea that she can save me from myself. I flat out refuse to get involved with the girl, as charming as her heart seems to be.

On a different note, my hair looks like Wolverine's today and it amuses me.

Desire

Life is a complicated thing, it's difficult to know sometimes what it is that I want. When I dig deep I find the answers and then I go back to ignoring them. I hide from my own desires even though I'm aware of them, I keep them just out of reach on the edge of my perception always.

When it comes down to it I guess I'm just scared of what I want. And so I come to the core of the matter and I find that a large part of me must like being miserable or alone (most of the time, both).

I guess we dilly and dally on the wayside for most of our lives, ignoring what it is we truly want. Then by the time we finally realise, or at least admit the truth to ourselves of what we want, it's usually either too late or we're too old to get it.

I suppose it's never easy to finally abandon that fear of chasing our dreams or desires.

Urgh!

I'm ill and I feel awful, it sucks -nods-.

Had a cough for a while now but just today other things have turned up. My head feels like it's on fire from the inside and the less said about my lungs the better.

Perhaps this is just punishment for my actions on Friday night. In which case I deserve worse than this.

This illness had better pass by wednesday for Indiana Jones.

Alone

I'm unhappy.

No surprise there, I'm a manic depressive so periods of extreme depression are expected. I've grown used to them in a way. All the same though, I am unhappy.

I'm unhappy because I desire things that I can never have. Or rather things I feel like I could never have. I don't feel good enough, I never feel good enough.

To quote a book I read recently:

"You've been unhappy because you've desired things that cannot be."

"That's what desire is, the need for what we can't have. The need for what's readily available is called greed."

I put up a series of fronts to the people who know me. I'm open with no-one, honest with no-one, truly myself at no time. I always thought that one day I'd meet someone, fall in love, and share my true self completely, show them every facet of my personality and not just the one. I long for that closeness with someone, I always have. I lie in bed at night just wishing for someone to talk to, especially when I'm upset or troubled or depressed as I often am.

I have no illusions about what love is but I know what it does to me. I'd give anything for that.

But it's futile. Where would I meet anyone who would meet my standards?! And even If I did (and I have a few times) there isn't a force on Earth that could make them look at me twice! I've not got either the looks or personality to attract anyone I'd want.

-sigh- I wish I felt good enough. I wish I had someone to talk to, someone I was genuinely close to. I've kept everyone at such a distance to protect myself that I find myself quite alone. The only people I ever did start to open up to only ended up hurting me. I thought I'd learnt a lesson, perhaps I've just learnt a weakness.

And now I fear it's too late.

Fates

For the longest time I seem to have been having a competition with the Fates to see who can make a better mess of my life, me or them.

The score currently, as of today, stands as follows:

Matt - 6

Fates - 4


Hollow victory so far :P

The Flood

I sit here tonight and I find myself going over some of the promises I've made to myself over the years. I think about the big ones and the little ones, the ones I've kept and the ones I haven't, the promises I've yet to make and the ones I've yet to keep. I think about all these promises and I laugh a little to myself. It is a hollow laugh.

I remember many years ago making the promise to myself that I'd change myself completely. I'd cast off everything that I didn't like about myself (which was a lot) and emerge anew. That was a big promise but I kept to it as best I could. I started to work out, I went for cross country bike rides everyday and I lost a lot of weight. For the first time in my life I was able to look in the mirror and just for the briefest second I didn't see the disgusting obese man I was used to seeing.

But it wasn't just a physical change I wanted. Like most people I wanted to be someone else. I wanted to become the person I felt on the inside, not the outer shell the rest of the world saw and hated. So I worked on that too. I went to the doctor and got the medication for my manic depression, I even started seeing a shrink and a theropist to work through some of the more "complicated" of my mental problems.

None of it was easy and I almost literally ended up destroying myself in the process. But when I came out the other side even I didn't recognise me. The scars and the ruins of who I once was are still visible, I still find it hard to look in the mirror and not see a fat man.

It's funny though, I'm proudest of the fact that I kept a promise I made to myself. That doesn't happen often. I mean I'll stick to my convictions mostly all of the time, but promises I make to myself seem to crumble to dust.

After a while I stopped taking the antidepressants and whatever other medication I was on. There is a bitter joy in sorrow, as they say.

Promises are an odd thing. I don't make them often unless I know I'll keep them. But I find myself making silly little ones all the time to myself. Before I started writing this post I found myself promising myself that I'd get in better shape. It's the kind of small thing we all promise ourselves after we've stepped on the scales in the morning, even when it's not really neccessary.

I find myself comparing this little promise to "lose a little bit of weight" to the big promises I made all those years ago to change myself. It seems so trivial and yet so neccessary. I guess I'll never stop craving self-improvement...Or perhaps I'm just very vain.

I always say to people when they ask or comment about vanity: "Oh I'm an extremely vain man, which is rather ironic really as I'm so hideously ugly."

Perhaps there is a silent arrogance to that. I don't care, I'm me and I'll continue to be myself regardless of other people. The only person we should change for is ourself.


Well this post doesn't make a lot of sense, no point to it. Sorry if you just wasted moments of your life reading it. Apologies for typos, grammatical errors and bad syntax etc but I won't be proof reading this one.


on an unrelated note:

-sigh- I wish I was close to anyone.

Anywhere.

That girl is a disease. Those who fall in love with her (as everybody does it seems as it's so easy) compromise themselves when they're with her. They become people they are not, they force themselves closer to her until she is the defining thing about them. And they allow this! They let her define them. And what happens to them in the end? She destroys them, she cuts them down and turns them free. But since they've forgotten themselves in her embrace all they see in the world is her and all they feel is her absence.

She's left a trail of merciless heartbreak. Yet I admire her.

She was always true to herself, she let men grow close to her as she in turn grew close to them. But in the end when she broke their hearts it was always in order to follow her own.

It's not her I don't like it's the whining puppydogs that pine after her or the ones that follow her when they are in favour. Human beings are more independent than that. Love her, let her love you but for gods sake leave her be.

As for me, emotions are empty and dangerous so I refrain from them. Well not the fun ones ;)

Update and ramblings

So it's been a while since I updated. Figured I might as well.

I intended that this blog be an outlet for my emotions or moods or whatever else I happened to be feeling. But lately I've not had a lot to vent about. That isn't to say everything has been great, or even good, things have been uneventful I suppose. Perhaps just uninteresting to outsiders.

Not a lot has changed. I suppose I've met a few new people, made a few new "friends", I use the term loosely as to me people are all expendable in some way or another. I'm still not sleeping well but the nightmares are less frequent. It's the dreams that disturb me in sleep now. Dreams are always worse, where they are not weird of course.

I'm looking forward to returning home for the Easter holidays. There are certain things I miss. I miss my cat (though i've found when I do go home I quickly grow tired of him) and I miss Gareth (though I only see him slightly more often when I'm at home). I also miss the countryside itself, the city is interesting enough but sometimes it's nice to look out of your window and hear nothing but the wind and the birds in the trees, or to see no people just green landscapes stretching into valleys, rivers and fields. I used to go for walks in the countryside, I'd stay out until just after dusk when the bats would come out. If I were to stay out until just after dusk here in the city, all that would immerge would be crackheads and drunken idiots.

Though I suppose when you live in the city you long for the peace of the countryside and when you live in the countryside you miss the hustle and bustle of the city. Never anything to do in the country, far too much to do in the city. No human can appreciate what they have, I know if I did I'd just try to spoil it. Only happy when I'm miserable :P

Reaching for the out of reach.

No prize is worth attaining if you can never share it, there would be no point.