And if my luck don't last too long, or if my life gets worse...

I'll be back for another song
A blessing or a curse
And I'll never ask for refunds 
'Cause I know you're not to blame
Take more blood, more hair, more money
I'll do anything to claim
A little second hand faith 

When did it stop being acceptable to write ridiculously overdramatic lyrics in cryptic hint to our emotions? I'd like to bring it back. 

Tomorrow I have to go and do a "thing", and it is a "thing" that I really do not want to do if I'm entirely honest with myself. So here I sit, attempting to distract myself by blasting music into my ears - no change there, then. I've fallen back into Emilie Autumn during stressful situations lately; maybe this is because the years wherein I lived and breathed her music were entirely badass and I was somewhat virtually impervious to whatever negativity came my way. Oh what a wondrous way to exist. 

I need to learn to live like that again. I do. It will happen. I've tapped into it more as of late than I ever have in the last five years or so but I do have a lot of progress that I need to make. But suck it up, that's life yo. Sometimes I wonder whether adulthood has fucked me over more than I realise but actually, I'm not doing all that badly, am I? So let's praise that, at least. And also, I'm just beginning to realise that actually there are no age constraints upon trivial things that we love, like hair, clothes, colours, decor... these do not have age constraints, only social constraints. And these are the sorts of constraints where we must learn to yell "FUCK YOU" and go forth to please ourselves, because pleasing ourselves is a dreadfully important thing to do. And most importantly, it is not SELFISH TO PLEASE OURSELVES, IT IS OUR RIGHT. (Capital letters indicate seriousness). 

Anyway. After I've done "the thing", I'm hoping that I'll be able to relax somewhat, and focus on actually living for once in my life. Let's tap into all the weird and wonderful and actually unapologetically enjoy living. Huh. Wouldn't that be a funny old thing?

 🌙🌟

Current Music: Second Hand Faith - Emilie Autumn

In Which: My commitment is fleeting

....Surprise! 

*eyeroll*

And so I embarked upon this journey in which I intended to pen a wonderfully creative account of my experiences during the great isolation of 2020, but........ That didn't quite happen, did it. 

Let's be honest, here. Over the years - particularly those experienced throughout my twenties - I have made numerous attempts at starting and restarting various online journals. But somehow I never manage to stick to them. Inspiration strikes, as it has done tonight, and I find myself sitting before whatever technological device it may be (Note: Right now, it's a laptop), creativity flowing through my fingertips like it used to do in times past...... yet it always seems to fade away. Creativity is not as frequent as it once was, it can lay dormant for years, and upon such rare occasions as these it emerges in an explosion of nonsensical word-vomit. Just. Like. This.

So what - I wonder - helps one to tap into such creativity on a regular basis? Or are these the struggles we face once we become fully-fledged adults? A chaotic assortment of sporadic thoughts and feelings...

I'm rambling, but I don't care. 

The Shitshow (TM) is very much still a thing. I had my heart broken many times this year, but I am still fucking going. And now, thankfully, I have found someone special to help me rebuild... but there are still parts that I am desperately trying to fix. Skeletons that always emerge from deep within my thought-closet. I feel as though I am so close, yet so far away. Do you ever get that feeling where it's like something is almost within your grasp but not quite... slipping away from your fingertips? Well, that's me. Constantly grasping at straws. But I'm okay, I always was and always will be. Count on that. 

But there are times where I feel thoroughly contemplative about "life" and what I should do about mine....... The answer, of course, is to make myself happy. 

Easy, right.......?

So, me, what makes YOU happy? 
O.K. Let me think about this.
.....I think, no matter how superfical it may be, my appearance makes me happy. And when my appearance does not line up with what I hold in my mind's-eye, THAT's where shit gets fucked up. That's where the meltdowns all emerge from. It's almost like I get a sense of imposter syndrome when I don't feel I match my ideal perception of myself. Now, some may say that's 1) normal, and 2) psychotic.... (but you can't spell "psychotic" without "hot" HUUURRRR) but it's honestly how I truly feel. 

Ehh...... I'll let you know if I figure anything out. It's 12:08am right now and I'm feeling a bit deflated. The best medicine I can suggest to myself in order to remedy this feeling of guilt and shame and whatever is to cosy up in my pyjamas, snuggle down, and watch Friends. 

🌙🌟

Edit: 1:51am now. Classic Belle: I’m still sitting here dressed in my fishnets, makeup still upon my face, thoughts still whirring. Oh you will never learn....

Current Music: Delusion - Currents