I just don’t understand sometimes.  I just don’t.  I just had a conversation with my mother, again.  And guess what it was about.  Yep, it was about money, and my stepfather, and my brother, and everything.

She poured it all out to me again, just like when i was 15, everything on me again.  I stood there with my arms crossed and pinching my side until it hurt more than I could bear so I did not show emotions.  Show weakness.  Again I am doing this.  Again I feel like I have to just listen and try, try to help her and the house.

She told me how my stepfather is driving a wedge between her and him, and him and me.  There is no wedge between my brother and I.  There is between mother and him.  There is a rift between my step father and mother.  You know what would solve this?


They say money doesn’t buy you happiness, but I’d rather cry in my Ferrari than a cardboard box.  I couldn’t agree more.  But in reality that won’t help all the problems. But it would certainly solve a few.  Next year my brother will leave for univeristy, fingers crossed.  I am terrified for him leaving.  I will be alone.

I don’t have a girlfriend.  I don’t really feel too comfortable directly approaching my friends anymore with my problems.  I don’t even feel like I can talk to the people I would like to about it because I become my mother and burden them.  So what do I do?

Alcohol? Will that numb and make me forget? Nope, just give me a hangover and waste my money and possibly be very damaging to my body.

Succeed in life? How? I am a failure of a person, I am lacking in more ways than I can describe, but most of all, who would want to employ someone like me.  Someone who doesn’t even believe in themselves.  Someone who cannot even sell themselves.  Speaking of which I would be a crap gigolo as well.

So what is the point in this post? Keep going? Keep trying? Life will get better? Life will be ok?

No, it is just me writing.  Why? Because I burden you.  You strangers out there who will never see me, never meet me and never be able to actually make a true difference physically in my life.  Emotionally you may be supportive with words of hope and encouragement, but ultimately, If I disappeared and stopped blogging, or opened a new one and closed this, there is absolutely nothing you could do about it.  Nothing at all.  You are disposable friends.   You are all basically just pixels.  In fact the majority of you could just be internet trolls.

Ultimately you can trust no one in this world.  And I don’t trust myself.  So I guess that means I’m Fucked.


Yesterday’s Bad and Today’s Not Much Better

Yesterday was hard work for me. I had about 3 hours sleep then had to be up for 2am to get to work. I had to rush to the station and forgot my ID so had to run home and grab it and run back to the station. I just managed to catch my train.

The day at work was hard but I managed to smile through. Until a conversation subject was brought up. I was working and my colleagues started talking about this subject and I felt my mood slip down to a dark place. I quickly finished the job and then moved away to another part to work on something I had been tasked elsewhere so I did not have to hear any more.  I texted my friend about it. He gave me a little advice and I calmed my mind and refocused on my work rather than the horrible thoughts.

I finished my 11hours and I had worked really hard.  I said goodbye to one of the girls who’s temporary contract finished that day. I’m sad to see her go because I really liked her but I gave her my name and phone number so of she wants to, she can contact me.

I went home and settled down, having some food to keep me going.  I had my headphones in watching a film when apparently my mother and brother had a massive row. I didn’t hear it, but my brother left the house to see his girlfriend. What I did hear was the following row between my stepfather and mother. The only reason I heard; it was shouted from the top to the bottom of the stairs, and right outside my room. As soon as I heard it I ripped my headphones out then proceeded to close all the windows in the house. My mum gave me a look saying don’t stop me,  but I told her

I am not stopping you two fighting.  You want to fight, your business, not mine, I just don’t want the neighbours hearing the entire thing. I’d like the house to save some face.

The argument ended about ten minutes later and I was in my room again texting my brother relaying some of the details and finding out mother and him and argued. He became agressive towards me and I basically shut him down, saying I’m just relaying information, you got a problem, it’s easily solved. Smash your a levels, go to uni far away and forget everything. 

I was not feeling great emotionally, so it lead to me going  and exerting control in an aspect of my life currently where I can as an outlet for my frustrations. After some issues, it worked at distracting me for a while, but it got late again and I was tired and feeling useless again.

I got a few hours sleep again and was up at 2am to get ready for work once more. As I left at 3 I texted my stepfather saying.

I’ve left for work, if you want to get a few hours kip on my bed you can. Have a good day.

He replied thanking  me and saying sorry, but that doesn’t really solve the issues. I am not looking forward to going home later, and even less so to my day off tomorrow.  My brother goes back to school in a week or so,  and I am so thankful to have work.

Both events are not good for my head, both events are factors which lead to the final destination of divorce. I’ve been there, I’ve done that, and I did everything I could when I was younger to prevent my brother dealing with what I did. I hid secrets and money stuff and I never said a damn word. Maybe he is old enough now for it to be ok. But it will break the family home. I don’t want my brother to have that in his life. It is not something anyone would want I think.

I’m on my lunch break now after being non stop for the last 6 and a bit hours. I am tired and sore and shoulders are sore as hell. That could be the heavy as hell boxes I have been throwing around, or it could be the tension I have built in them. All I know is I want something to go right please. I want my kid bro to get brilliant grades so he can escape; I want the arguments to stop ; I want everything to just be ok.


Derek Hale’s Tattoo

Derek Hale is the character portrayed by Tyler Hoechlin in the television series Teen Wolf is seen to have a tattoo on his back, as well as on a truck contaning equipment he uses during his transformations.  Derek Hale is a werewolf, born as one rather than bitten in the TV Series.  As soon as I saw his ink I loved it and thought it looked so cool.

Derek’s Tattoo On Back

I had no idea why I liked it, I just did.  I like swirls, and I like symbology.  I have a single swirl tattoo myself (more on mine here).  Just now it clicked.  I know why I like it.  I know why this design caught my eye, looked very cool to me and kind of made me want to get it does (but I wont…well maybe not right now anyway).  It makes sense now.



Lines In The Sand

Lines In The Sand

This morning, while many other thoughts floated around in my head I was thinking about the expectations and realities that exist within my life.  I visualised this as lines in the sand on a beach, reminding me of a photo taken of me about a year ago now where I am standing on a beach.

The lines come in two varieties: thick, solid lines being the expectations of me, and thinner lines being the realities of me.  The thinner realities line always falls behind the thicker expectation line on my beach.  The lines are set by my friends, my family, and by myself.  Those who surround me have such great expectations of me.  They think I am this wonderchild, that I am capable of greatness, that I am someone who can step forth and truly succeed at everything I do in life.  My family thinks this more of me as I am the eldest of the generation, expecting me to be the leader and the shining example of greatness for my younger brother and cousins.  I know that this is not the case.  One of my cousins is much smarter than I was at his age, though my brother is only slightly behind me at his age as well.  They have the intelligence, but more importantly the drive and less social responsibility to be able to really do that.  I know they can.

The lines in the sand have been drawn, and I am lacking.  I always have been, but maybe I can reach a few of them at least.  I often wonder why people think that I am so smart and that I am capable of such things.  Just because I have a degree in Accounting and Finance does not mean that I am smart, or more importantly, any good a maths whatsoever.  I passed because I am better at writing essays.  That said, I compare mine to some of my friends ones, and I am clearly not even close to their leagues, and for fairness sake I did compare against people with BA’s or BSc’s not Masters students, that would be unfair and I would be severely disadvantaged.  I have some brains, yes, but no where near as much as everyone would like to think I do.

Bit of a downer of a post, but I will post some amusing things in a minute, that might cheer you up Netty.



New Underwear!


Ha, bet your thought you were going to see all my lacy numbers your dirty wh*re Netty! Can you believe I got all those socks for £7?!?! SEVEN POUNDS!! Incredible I tell you.  You can see the contrast toes on the stripey ones as well, with the matching heels.  SO AMAZING!!

Can you tell I am excited about new socks and a couple of new pairs of boxers.  Seriously, I think I nee to step away from you more often Netty and do things in the real world.

Those pink socks are officially the first properly pink item of clothing I have ever purchased in my life.  Not going to lie, I don’t think I will wear them as much as the other pairs, but they are certainly…bold shall we say.  There are so many colours.  I was tempted by a few pairs of fluffy ones (ITS SO FLUFFY) but decided against those as my masculinity simply wouldn’t have any of it. Now you’ve seen my undergarments Netty it is only fair I see yours.  Come come now dear, don’t be shy, we both know what you are like under that cutesy exterior…

I am flirting with the Internet. Time to re-evaluate my life.



Got To Love A Red Head

BuzzFeed, once again you have compiled something beautiful.  The women on here are utterly beautiful.  Hayley Williams just absolutely leaves me breathless, not to mention with a voice as pure and as incredible as hers it is absolutely no surprise I am infatuated with this woman.  The leaked topless pics have nothing to do with it either.

All of the people on here are very attractive, and I had no clue that Bennedict Cumberbatch was actually a natural redhead.  Fascinating. I hope you enjoy this Netty, I thought it should be brought to your attention.  Also, validation for the fact that I really want to date a redhead.  Did you not see the porcelain skin on those girls, not to mention Karen Gillan’s blood red lips in contrast…geez I need a lie down.  Got another post for you of my little haul today from shopping (link here) which you will love as well Netty.  See you in 15 minutes



The Great Gatsby Quote and Why I Write

An exchange between Nick Carraway and Dr Walter Perkins in an office.

Nick Carraway: I don’t want to talk about this Doctor.

Dr Walter Perkins: Then write about it.

NC: Write about it?

WP: Yes.

NC: Why would I do that?

WP: You said yourself writing brought you solace.

NC: Yeah, well, it didn’t bring anyone else much solace and I wasn’t any good.

WP: No one need ever read it. You could always burn it.

NC: What would I write about?

WP: Anything. Whatever brings you ease. A memory, a thought, a place. Write it down.


That exchange is lifted from the screen adaptation of The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, originally written in 1925.  The scene I have quoted above is from the Baz Luhrmann adaptation, released in 2013.  (IMDB and Wikipedia links here).  When I heard this exchange it just made sense to me.  Complete and utter sense.   Something written nearly 90 years ago reached out and made complete and utter sense.  I never thought that such a small scene in a film would have such a profound effect on me.  It more or less defines exactly why I write.  I write because to me it just makes sense and relaxes me.  It seems almost integral to my being.  Half a month not writing felt so off.  The only reason I didn’t was because I couldn’t.  Now that I seem to have some sort of semblance of writing capabilities back I am trying to make sense of it and use it.

I had not intended to post every day, because that would be me falling back into an old routine, but I did intend to write whenever it felt right and I felt the need to express myself in a way which is not harmful or dangerous.  That sounds melodramatic, and it is, but I am going to not write angry posts, or at least attempt to avoid doing so.

This film has one of the best scores I have ever heard, and the film is rather brilliantly made in my opinion.  I would heartily endorse anyone who wants a good watch to give this a go.  I am intending to read the book now to compare how I feel, but first I have to finish reading The Marquis De Sade.  Thanks for listening Netty, you are a good companion.



The Great Gatsby Poster

Throwback Art

Oil Pastel Art By An Ex – Aged 18

I found this at my aunts house. It was a picture my aunt commissioned my ex girlfriend to create. It is based on a picture of a landscape in Donnegal, Ireland.

Surreal that something drawn 6 years ago is still knocking around at my aunts house. I’m having a few of those moments of weirdness lately. Ah well.


A Surreal Moment

Today while at work I had an incredibly surreal moment.  One I was absolutely not expecting, or even prepared for.

I bumped into two of my ex-girlfriends relatives.

They happened to be in where I was working, and I recognised them.  I said to them “I thought I recognised you two troublemakers” and after about 3 seconds they suddenly clicked as to who I was and both laughed and said hello.  They both hugged me and we had a little catch up.  They had not recognised me initially as it has been 2 years and I am currently sporting a two week old beard so I look a little different.   My colleague, being the nosey bugger that he is, asked who they were and I replied “these are two of my ex girlfriends aunties”.  One of them is in fact her Godmother as well.  We had a little chat and they had spent last night at my ex’s parents house with her family and her.  They said that I was looking very well to which I responded “As do you both, as always” and my colleague called me a flirt.  I was being complimentary, this much is true, but it was only because I got along with them so well whenever we saw each other.  They are such lovely women and a whole heap of fun.  They are a little crazy and love to dance, so when I saw them last (at their nieces wedding, also the last time I saw my ex and her family) it was all on happy and good terms.  I wished them a safe journey, to give my love to everyone and they gave me big hugs again.

I told a friend of mine about this and this was the thing, it wasn’t awkward, or embarrassing, or difficult in any way.  It was just like bumping into an old friend and catching up.  They are lovely people and I like them, and to me it shows growth.  I have moved past my ex, and I can approach her family in a easy going and relaxed manner without being nervous or hesitant about what I should say or do.   I would be lying if I said I had not thought about how I would react to seeing my ex, or members of her family ever again, but now I can say I handled it well.  I think If I saw my ex I would be ok with it.  Bearing in mind my ex lived 2 hours away by car, the odds of seeing them again at my place of work were incredibly small, but as it turns out still possible.

It threw me a little, I know that much as I kept making little mistakes for the following couple of hours, forgetting keys here, little mistake there, wrong name for a person, those little slips. Overall though I did pretty well I feel and I give myself a pat on the back.  *pat pat*

That’s all for today Netty, thought I would share that and show that I have grown, which is a good.  Now if only I could still get taller even though I am 24….



Let’s See Where This Goes…Again…..

Thank you RieKid for this photo

Let’s See Where This Goes

As you can see, this is a new post from me.  I have not written anything since the 27th of July, so 17 days or about 2 and a half weeks.  I stopped writing because I couldn’t.  I reached a point where I had no idea what I wanted to write.  I tried several times to start something creative, and reached an absolute block.  I could not write a damn word.

So I tried to blog.  Just write down what you want and how you are feeling, just pour out what is in your head onto the keyboard.  That didn’t work either.  What had felt so natural and normal to me before just didn’t want to happen.  I couldn’t write anything which I deemed to be half decent.  Scrap that, I couldn’t write more than a few sentences before I decided that this sucked and I didn’t want to publish utter tripe.

So I looked at this blog and myself and asked myself “Why can I not blog?” and “Why do I want to stop blogging?

Why Can I Not Blog?
The simple reason is that I couldn’t find anything to write.  Words completely failed me.  I could comment and I could do my job (which involves a fair bit of talking) and I could have some conversations, but I couldn’t write anything really.  I also kind of pulled away a little from my friends and went a little introverted.  When I say a little, it probably was nothing to them, but I tried to distance myself a little.  I would message them every now and again, but not with the regularity that is common for me.

Why Do I Want To Stop Blogging
1. Because it is childish – This stigma I brought on myself.  When I think of blogging I think of teenage girls who are all angsty and emotional in their bedrooms, listening to slipknot or something like that, screaming at the world how much they are misunderstood and just want to be left alone.  In a way, yes, there are a fair few who do that, but that is not what I use this for.  I use it to express myself.  Sure, I could talk to people, but sometimes it is just so difficult to look people in the eye and tell them what you are thinking.  Recently I went out for a drink with my friend and we talked.  By we talked, I let them do most of the talking and I did most of the listening.  It has got to a point where when I want to open up and talk about some of the things in my head I just stop and can’t get it out.  I genuinely mumbled something and then asked a question which I knew would provoke a long winded response.  I have done that with multiple people lately, just hit a certain trigger subject and let them have at it.
2. Because I am 24 – I am at that age where I should be exploring the world, or finding my dream job, (to be more precise, be in my job), or making memories, or being sensible and preparing for my future.  I am trying to prepare for my future and am saving as much as I can.  But that has been tough, especially when I have taken chunks out of my savings to pay for a new alternator in my step dads car,  brothers birthday and paid several house bills (do not ask how much, you really do not want to know.) I almost feel restrained a little, but I have a responsibility to my family above myself and if that means I have to do this, then that is just how it is.
3. Because this could be used against me – paranoia and probably spending too much time alone has got me thinking thoughts I probably shouldn’t.  That’s a simple way of putting it .

This blog is my secret.  I tell people I write when they ask about my hobbies or ask me to draw and I explain I can’t draw, but I can write.  A few people in the real world know about it, and they are a privileged few.   Everyone else on here reads because they have somehow found me, or I have found you and you like what you read so carried on.

So What Happens Next?

What I am going to do is write when I want to.  If I feel I can, I will.  I will not push it, I will not pander, and I will not be ashamed that this is how I express.  I will still keep this my secret, but I won’t be so embarrassed about it.  I will answer questions people pose me, I will not obsess over stats, I will not write because of a schedule I have set myself or anything like that.  I will write simply because I love to.  It is what I enjoy and so it is what I will do, but only when the time is right.  God, I sound like a right pretentious arse.  Oh well, I am doing me.