Self Conversation

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You’re being angsty and edgy again mate.

For some reason, you sound like Togami.

Whatever. Would you prefer me to sound like Kaya? Or Daniel?

Do whatever the fuck you want. You’re my head, after all.

So what are you doing out here?

Like you said, being angsty and edgy.

Why are you being angsty and edgy though?

Why the hell would you care?

I am you. And I’m not sure if you know yourself.

I do. Somewhat.

Then enlighten me.

I can’t finish my IT.

…that’s it?

No. Of course not, otherwise I wouldn’t be breaking down, would I?

Fine then. What else is there?

The fact that I can’t finish anything I start.

You finished one thing.

That doesn’t count and you know it.

I see. So we’re discounting anything involving mass destruction?

…yes.

Very well.

My point is, I can barely finish the things that interest me, let alone things that don’t even peak that interest.

And?

It makes me feel bad about myself. Because I want to be able to finish, but I just feel so…unmotivated.

In other words, your depression decides to add a few pounds so that you can’t do shit.

Precisely.

Then again, that could just be you making excuses.

That is another thing. I’m probably just lazy, and I just blame it on the mental illness.

Then get over it. Stop hating yourself. Give yourself proof that you’re not a bad person. Actually work.

Oh, I get it. You can’t. There is something physically weighing you down. You just can’t tell if it’s just mental illness or laziness.

…yeah.

Well you’ve got to get over it. Your future lies in the balance. This shit is year 12, make or break year.

I want to be able to…

…but you don’t think you can?

No.

Why not?

Because I can’t finish anything, even if I set my mind to it. I don’t know what I want to do with my life, fuck, I don’t even know what my morals are!

Ohhhh, I see. It’s not just self hate. It’s guilt.

For some part.

Togami? Ash?

Yup.

I don’t know what you see in them. Togami’s a self absorbed prick and you’ve seen your other suitor. If one can call him that.

Togami appears to believe that I can get better. It’s not a relationship anyway. As for Ash…yeah, I can’t make excuses. He’s a sleaze bag.

So it’s Ash that you’re guilty about, not Togami.

Yeah. Everyone hates him.

Except for you.

I hate him too. Just not enough to stop seeing him.

Are you going to sleep with him again?

No.

Good. Now stick to it. Don’t let him seduce you with Sword Art Online.

Shaddup.

But that’s not it.

Of course it’s not.

Jeezus. It never stops, does it? What is it with being seventeen? Does something change suddenly that lures in hot dudes? Hehee. Cat Madigan 101: How to pick up hot dudes.

Oi.

Okay. Togami I’ll let you off the hook for. Ash, you’re kinda a bad person for. So what about candidate number three?

…he’s insanely intelligent, sweet and not condescending. And probably isn’t at all interested in me in that way.

…he asked you to the fucking movies. On fucking VALENTINES DAY.

…it’s Valentines Day on Saturday?

Argh….yes. And you’ve got a fucking date.

…he’s probably called it off. I’m a nutcase, as he’s now well aware.

Whatever…I know where this is going. ‘Why would he be interested in me? I’m insane, I’m ugly, I’m retarded. He’s going to lose interest in me eventually.’

Of course.

So what? You’re going to let a potential relationship slide out of your grasp?

Look, if he’s not interested in me, he’s not interested in me. And chances are, even if he is, he’ll eventually decide that I’m not worth the trouble.

If that’s the case, then what are you alive for?

Hmm?

You’re insane, ugly and retarded, as you pointed out. You’re lazy, because you’re not finishing the work you need to. And you’ll never be desirable to anyone because of those things. So why are you still alive?

…because I don’t have the guts to kill myself.

Oh, I see. So you’re just a waste of space, taking up everyone’s time and oxygen. You’re disgusting.

I hate myself.

As you should.

But…

What?

…I hate you more.

I hate you, the voice in my head that reminds me how horrible I am. You’re the one thing standing in the way of me living a normal life. You’ve always been there, clinging to me like a chain around my neck. I know what you are…

You are that miserable illness that’s been eating away at me since I was six. You just sit there and whisper things to me and feast on the pain it produces. I hate you far more than I’ll ever hate myself.

So kill me.

I can’t.

Of course you can. All you need is a bullet in the brain to take away the pain. Heh, I should be a poet.

No. I’m going to live.

No you’re not.

I am. I’m going to live so that every day for the rest of my life, I can tell you to go fuck yourself.

Everything you said was true.

No. Everything you said was true. It could happen. But then again, it might not. But I think I’ll stay around and find out.

You’re not going to survive me.

I will. I’m stronger than you. Look at what I survived already.

Give it up. I’m the one you should fear.

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Flowers and Lovely Crap

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I know, it’s a bit late, but here’s a post about Valentine’s Day three days late, because I had no Internet.

Valentine’s Day! Or as I prefer to name it, Cat-Madigan-Is-Forever-Alone Day!

I hate it.

If you had not picked that up from my current tone.

Last year I had actually been looking forward to Valentine’s Day, because I was dating Potch. He gave me the Evenstar. For those who don’t know what it is, google it.

Here’s some advice to guys looking for presents for their girlfriends. If your girlfriend is a Lord Of The Rings fan, she’ll love it. If she’s not, she’ll still love it. And if you, like me, are single on Valentine’s day with your imaginary friend, call me. We can have a marathon, and eat cookies.

So I had school on Valentine’s Day. For those who don’t remember, I go to an all girl school. That’s enough of an explanation as it is, but I’ll go into further detail anyway. Girls are in love with love. Love and romance. Love and flowers and boys who sparkle in sunlight. Yeah…those girls. And they all happen to be in my year. Yayyyyy.

And do you know what girls love even more than love? Showing off that they are loved, which means showing off how their rich boyfriend who looks like Harry Styles bought them a bucket load of roses, chocolates and all things pretty.

And that’s how Valentine’s Day is ruined for me. RUINED. I love it when people are in love. Love is beautiful, I love love. There. I’ve confessed it. My name is Cat Madigan and I’m a romantic. Now excuse me while I go vomit in a bucket.

What I don’t love is what the girls at school interpret as ‘love’. Today, in Children, Family and the Community, the girls were talking about- guess what- boys. More specifically, who they were going with to the River Cruise. For me, I’m really hoping that one of my guy friends will take pity on me and ask me to go with them. Papa Willis maybe, though he’s told me that Flash might want to go with me as friends. Who knows? Anyway, enough of my loveless predicament. The girls at my private school were rating their guy friends, and recommending them purely on looks. Here’s some snippets of conversation. “I can hook you up with Cooper, he’s a babe!” “Why aren’t you going with Liam? You guys hang out all the time” “Nah…I’m thinking of asking Peter, isn’t he cute?” …one moment.

So now that my vomit bucket is full, let me finish my little rant. Love, I feel, has been changed around to suit women. Well, when I say women, I’m speaking of whiney teenage girls. I think that the above explains what their values are. Girls expect a hot guy to fall in love with them and treat them like royalty, no matter what their flaws are. And these guys themselves have to be flawless. And rich. Did I mention cute? Either way, my point, I hope, is sort of clear. Valentines Day, and private girls schools, suck.

Of course, this is probably the ranting of a teenage girl who is pissed off that once again, nobody loves her.

Either way, I hope that everyone who reads this enjoys their Valentine’s day more than I have. So Happy Valentine’s day, nonexistent readers.

Now to go finish my sewing, by myself, on Valentine’s day. How appropriate…already preparing for spinsterhood.

Cat Madigan