Quite quite...quite...quiet.

Been feeling quite ill all week.
My head, my stomach, my sleep.
I mean it's all the same.
It is quite normal for me.
Being this way.

Lately, it's just too much to handle.
What with the way everything is lately.
Everything at work, at home, my ... mmm.

I feel like I'm drowning.
How could everything get so out of my hands.
How could I let everything end up the way it has.

I applied for a scholarship.
I am going to enter a design a little black dress competition.
But I don't know anymore. I don't know.

I'm sure I deserve the outcome of it all.
There's nothing left for me to do.
There's nothing I possibly could do.

I think I am inherently damaged.
I am no good.

My head hurts.

Perplexion.

I can attest to the fact that people probably treat me like some lost puppy because I have given them that impression of myself. I have allowed it. I admit at times it makes interactions with others simpler as they will lean towards more sincere or compassionate mannerisms than when you show your intelligence.
I feel perhaps it was one of the mistakes I made in my past friendships. I allowed them, all the room, to treat me and view me as they pleased. Then were I to decide something for myself, even something so small as an opinion, it was bad news bears.
I guess I should feel relief when I admit it wasn't all me. I was not the root of everyone's issues. Something other's tried to pin on me. If anything I am quite flabbergasted to think no one felt me important enough to want to continue a friendship. No matter how keenly I tried to please them I have never been found good enough for anyone.
Perhaps, I care too much for other's to wish to care for me. Perhaps, I do not deserve friendship. A truth I may just have to face. I am not deserving of having others care for me. It doesn't matter if I do anything for them, even if at my own expense. I do not deserve friends.

That at least is what my past has taught me.

But I digress. It seems, even now, people, regardless of my attempts to stand my ground or be a more forthcoming individual; give me the same lack of respect ... if that is even the correct word to use? I wonder what it is I'm portraying that says: "Yes please, I need your help. Show me the way, for I am too naive to find it on my own."

What makes so many of you think I'm lost?
That you are above me in your intelligence or mental capacity?
That I am not worthy of your time, attention, respect?
Not even after years of "friendship". What is so wrong with me?

Is it my behaviour? If so which aspect(s)?
My vernacular? Demeanor? Tone of voice?

I accept that I have faults. I painfully accept that perhaps whatever they may be, no one ever finds me worthy.

I would greatly appreciate an honest answer from those who actually know me out in reality. I doubt I will receive any, though I will hope.

I am too tired for this life.

Forgotten.

Sometime I realise that perhaps...perhaps I do not have a full grasp on my understanding of my world. My life, seems to be something of a joke, at times. Something that, though I wish I could control it, I do not know how.

How I am so capable of telling myself "no".
I know when to say "no".
I know why to say "no.

Never it seems do I successfully do it.

Do I abstain from drinking and drugs because of the label I have given myself?
Because I truly have self power? Because I know that were I to break it I would truly succumb to the forces within me that strive, so perseveringly to over take me? Or is it because were I to break that label, it would just be one more failure on top of a list of so many?

Food.
Food is something, if I am busy, or not thinking I will not know if I have had any or not. Water is the same. But, once this becomes known to me, I will drown myself in water, and then feel ill for days at a time.

Food you see, is a different battle.
I may not be hungry, I may not even want what I am eating. But so help me if I could only wipe it from my consciousness, when there are so many times it consumes me.
I know I am not hungry, I tell myself not to eat, that it will make me feel more ill than I have already. I tell myself it is too late in the evening, it will keep me up late with indigestion, nausea, nightmares.

I do it anyway.
Every time.
The few times I withhold are few and far between.
Small triumphs, that never last.

It is an uphill battle food and I.
If I never ate again I would be happy.
I used to force myself to eat, as it is socially acceptable to eat with others when out at dinner. Rude not to eat what someone offers you.

I don't have a clue what is wrong with me.
Why I do things I know harm me.
When I know to do better, and do so anyway.

Food is not my only enemy. There is my procrastination. My laziness that goes back and forth between overbearing workaholic, to lethargic scum. Things I know I need to do, get out of the way, to continue certain endeavours I have taken upon, that never get accomplished. I start so much, yet finish so little.

Was I always meant to be a failure?
Is it truly all I know?

Will I never be an artist?
Am I truly an analytical fool?

Nothing against those with analytical minds.
But why must I so arduously love something if I was never meant to be a part of it.

Am I just a forgotten fool, who's life was a mere accident.

I mean, I wasn't meant to survive.
Not from birth, not through childhood.
Here I am mostly because of a woman who would never give up on her children.
No matter how weak, ill, fragile.

Did she do me a favour?
A disservice?

Will I ever feel as though I am someone to make her proud?
All I see is ...

All I see is a cadaver with a false sense of entitlement.
False sense of power.
Dwindling breaths, that will soon be for naught.

All I see, is a nobody.
Caro

Onetwothreefour. Unodostresquatro. Ichinisanshi. Undeuxtroisquatre.

I find our species curious. I think ideally I would prefer to be a hummingbird.
They're small frail creatures with incredible force in their heart and wings.
Though they are filled with colour, I think I'd prefer to be the new species they have found.
I believe they found them in Colombia.

Tidbit: Over 1100 species of hummingbirds alone have been found there. They have over 91%, if I'm not mistaken, of all bird species in the world.

The new species is black with blue fluff tufts above their little feet and some wild hair.
They're the ones I adore. I hope their extinction isn't as quick as scientists are expecting.

Recently, I have made a tumble. The link is http://nephillim3337.tumble.com I plan to post things about all my whims. Some of my designs as drawings and once they've been born into this world through fabric and dreams.

I've been thinking that when I leave for school I shall be getting a pet. What kinda puppup should I get? After I graduate I will not only be paying off my debts, starting my career, and saving for my royal dandy piglette. Her name shall be Bofrita. But until then, puppup recommendations please! I am on the hunt.

Last night was rough. Things need to be worked out. But my heart is feeling weak.

Hope you are all well.
Carolina.

All Night Long.

As far as punctuation goes, I have always leaned towards the ".". It is clear. Concise. To the point.
Funny how it is still fully capable of misconstruing any situation. There's irony in that I think.

I have two possible designs floating around in my head now. A third I hope is to come soon. I have picked what I will use as my common thread. Discussing it with Guinea definitely helped. Let's see if I will get to sketching soon. Still need to get swatches as well.

Long day at work. Unbeknownst to a coworker, she flits back and forth in my mind through ignorant bumpkin and caring uncultured yet essentially good. Can she really think a stay at home mom of three who only recently has had to struggle financially is worse off than a mother who has single handedly struggled through all possible hardships with four children?

I'll never understand the bubbles people live in.

I don't understand how if I commit a similar act as another, prior to or after their committing it; why I doing it is some sort of ridiculous or awful act.

I seem to be perpetually apologizing for actions I have or have not comitted. Anything from a sneeze to a hiccough. A question or a statement I hinted at without being aware.

Was life always meant to be so overwhelming and painful?

Will I always feel swollen with failure? Fatigue? Apathy?

Am I even human?