Weather : cloudy sunset
SMT Battle Themes


Hello again readers. I hope you guys are okay. I'm still working on an essay that is due next week... it's only 2,000 words but I'm struggling to write it. I need to get it done tonight so I can start statistics tomorrow. I'm so damn scared it's not even funny. No matter how much coffee and Redbull I down I feel so uneasy like I'm about to lunge over the balcony of the top floor of a mall and go SPLAT! right outside the Krispy Kremes. I booked my Eurostar ticket from London to Rotterdam, so now in terms of transport all I need are my GHIC and a big suitcase. This is terrifying. All the preparation. It makes me sick. This is what I wanted, right, some kind of sabbatical, some chance to explore another country, but will it really be worth it? Will I be able to survive? Will I be able to make my grades? What if I really am an idiot. Six years of Psychology education and I'm struggling to write a 2,000 word essay. I'm struggling to understand terms like interdependence... How? God I'm a moron. I don't deserve to be with all the other girls on my course. I'm a narcissist. I feel like Esther from the Bell Jar (current read), nobody can really tell what's wrong with her, she just doesn't apply herself despite some talent. She thinks that she's peaked at 20, that all those As in highschool and college are useless now, they're not relevant at all, because this is it. The peak. There's only one way and it's down, but unlike Esther I won't get prescribed shock treatment, which honestly feels like the only thing that could stimulate me right now.

This is, whatzitcalled, escalation? Catastrophic thinking? Terms I should remember. Now I've finished crying about my academics I think I'll cry about my social life. I went to a party with my best friend recently. I expected it to be a bigger affair than it was so I dressed to the nines and ended up stumbling through Wimbledon fields in 5-inch heels in my most prized boots. When we arrived I was obviously sour. If the person who invited me told me it'd be a casual affair I wouldn't have dressed so nice, which was only a waste to me because it make me seem egotistical, or inappropriate. I looked daft. Let's call my best friend Tomoe. Tomoe looked great but casual. She fit in perfect. I didn't and don't resent her for that but by comparison I looked stupid. Whatever, I told myself, just drink and you'll feel better. However there was hardly any alcohol at the party. Actually all we had was the JD and coke cans Tomoe brought. I planned to bring vodka but we were late because Tomoe left her bag on the bus and we had to go to the nearby bus station, thank God they had it honestly, so I didn't bring any alcohol. I keep sounding like I'm mad or disappointed or burdened by Tomoe but she's the only one who made it tolerable. Whatever. I settled down in some outside furniture with everyone else gathered around the table. Here's where it went downhill.

Immediately, to prove how confident I was, I started talking patronisingly to the people around me. Sarcastic "Hiiiiiiiii"'s and handshakes asking what people studied, making a remark when they told me, witty, funny, because I am a witty and funny woman. I did not cry in the mirror when I realised my weight gain manifested in a muffin top. I did not scream when I realised a pleather skirt that fit me a year ago now screams in agony as my hips stretch it out. I am confident and you're gonna know it by the way I insult you, because I don't care what you think, I am above you, I am confident, and you are in my company, not the other way around. Well now I feel bad. The words fly out my mouth, but like a boomerang they come back and thwack me in the head. Some poor guy introduced himself to me and when he told me he was a computer science student, I said I expected so:

"Why's that?"
"Well, for one that you're wearing sweatpants in public"
"Oh, well-"
"and sunglasses at night? Good song, but not a good fashion choice"

Dejected, he took them off and half-jokingly told me he was having fun. His friends chuckled but it wasn't comfortable. I wasn't confident at all, I was a bitch. Things only took a turn for the worse when I struck up a conversation with a trans woman. I admit that I already felt a little animosity towards her. She had clearly lived a very middle class life with parents in the Liberal Democrat party, a 3-story house in Wimbledon, and a good university she attended. Even her voice grated on me, but that's because it was the voice I used at work. Well spoken. I hated it. I hate the middle class. I hate any class but my own. Not that I feel envy, I feel rage. It isn't "why couldn't I have it so good?" but "how dare you have it so good". It's very childish. Regardless, she didn't shrink at my sharp tongue and took her own pot shots. We stopped talking about midway through the night and Tomoe remarked that she was glaring at us through the patio's glass door. Who cares? By that point we were playing Billards and my mood had lightened.
Why am I telling you this? I don't know. I don't actually feel bad about it. In the moment I did, sure, but now I couldn't care less. Sometimes I think I'm a sociopath but there's no way to really test that. If I have low self-esteem would it not be reasonable that I would choose answers that reflect that? The test states "I feel much regret for hurting others". Honestly, I answer strongly disagree. Now is that me answering honestly or is that me answering critically? Maybe I'm choosing the "bad" answers because I feel I am a bad person. Maybe I perceive myself to be a sociopath because that is not a good thing and I am not a good person. Alternatively, maybe I want to be a sociopath, or it benefits me for the researchers or company or shrinks to view me as a sociopath. Or a manic depressive. Maybe this is just a tool for me because I want my meds. Maybe I want to be feared. Maybe I just like being an anomaly, I like being special, I want to be different in a deviant way rather than a good one because deviance is easier than anything else. Deviance thrives in the city. In a country where the police become increasingly inconsequential is it no wonder that deviance spreads? Of course not. What a stupid question. There are no longer any repercussions. I say we should bring back public executions. Not just executions, but public executions. I want the population of Belmarsch paraded through the streets and hung en masse in town squares. Send them back to their hometowns and have them skewered, arse to mouth, on display for the lemmings as a sign of what's to come to those who dare violate our laws. We need another tragedy. We need another war. We need people to realise how precious their lives are again. Let's start with the dredges of society. These people gave up their humanity a long time ago, why let these living tumours fester and live off our tax money? Hang them.
People think is edgy. That I'm a nihilist who'd piss her pants when a gun is held to her head. I genuinely think this. I genuinely do not see any other way for our prisons to empty. I genuinely do not believe that paedophiles, sex criminals, or murderers (in most circumstances) can be rehabilitated. Do you? If you're faced with the option of your local paedophile being released with a fine or being hung and made an example to all other potential predators, one more space free in prison for another pervert crawling our streets, what would you choose?
I have to go. Library's closing. Thanks for reading.