a poem that isn’t necessarily going to be seen by its subject

oh damn! goddamnit baby once we could’ve had a real life; living, fucking, smoking weed at our own liberty
but everything does damage and though i tried to help by adding you to my phone plan i’m far from an exception.
it’s absolutely fine, okay, you can blame me, baby, stop crying, blame me! blame me! does that make it easy?
i’ll take all the blame, but i truly still can’t lie to you now, scorpio rising truth falls where ruins run

places in the past i can no longer go because nostalgia takes me to when and where we got weird just for fun
and i know anyone wise knows with death comes rebirth so i should just accept it and things as they are now but
first, just this time, now i’ve got your attention, why do i hurt so and why does it take so forever ever ever long
i look an awful lot like i think you once would’ve cherished but now it’s never time to be more than numb

so with these thoughts and more and less back then i tried to be a person i swear i did my best
i took the appointments and the respite and the psychiatric tests
everything i did was something like i did everything the elders told me like i let so many men do that to me too
you tell me since then i shouldn’t’ve, but where then when i didn’t know, where back then were you?

i know i’m not your problem i was for only just about one year
depending on who you ask we were together forever but you could tangerine-erase me and i’d be tarred and feathered willingly
i swear i never meant wrong but you won’t believe me saying that even as you see me caked in mostly my own fear
i sit here on your doorstep with nothing but shame, excuses, hopes for forgiveness; no idea whether to reconnect, as you can plainly see

but i do not sit at the one outside your home where you taught me how to sit through a movie without flinching
not where you spent so long smiling learning things about me as if i was some magical thing before i became wretched in your head
i’m sure you’ve forgotten them baby, i haven’t forgotten what happened or how to see
i’m in the home you made for us that i never let let go or truly set free, the one you stood outside of smoking cigarettes and talking to an australian girl or perhaps someone else about me

i never thought we weren’t together then or later, not when – i’m so sorry – i left you alone under the hot hot sun
later i didn’t think it meant anything, when you missed my july birthday party, i thought it was just a trivial covid thing that had to be,
i was hurt but it didn’t matter because i still thought then that we’d get married when we were done,
i still hought we were soulmates, now she puts that word on the internet like you’re her pet meat but that’s okay, she’ll see

you are a fighter; an aries ram! but maybe without the hate i let fester when i didn’t even know
she won’t give you reason to leave like my bloated cheating and hurting you in fears of i still don’t know how to correct the muck in the murk
she’s still, controlling, excuses you gave me way back when, don’t seem to go far don’t seem to show
you how bad things get and that there are thousands better than her, me, any shallow fuck, or any flirt,

mental health disorders do things and my brain doesn’t never really did work like it should,
oh yes chronic mental health problems fuck with anything they bring and i never lived like i could
i had potential i had regular life house pets front yard once long ago or maybe just i should
and i was gonna change every policy in my head just for you, my intention was that i genuinely would

but now i cower in the shadows of my own apartment home where you first spoke words to her,
where you called to save her (where you wouldn’t have if not for me) and as i remember that day i suppress a scream,
then i take my swollen hurting tongue and instead i linger in the flavors you’ve left here for me to savor far too much time later
i wish i tasted your sweet honeysuckle words back when they were meant for me, they were once meant only for me

i wish i knew then that honeysuckle could just be sweet, lovely honeysuckle and not poison.
it’s true, i never thought that anything normal would work and i fought and ended things and i was selfish, too
many things i regret but not one word of my truth could even work with you, i froze myself in my own prison
i let my flesh become my petrified cave, i let my hatred see me here until the end of days no matter how few

damn! damn! i’m sorry i once so wholly loved you in such close proximity with only a trick window to view me and how
i kept it all inwards it was beautiful and i thought you did the same thing, i thought you saw the same pristine views
but you showered me with affection instead, i should’ve done the same, i know it sounds odd but i see that only now,
i don’t expect anything, but the truth should be out there. i lived it now i wrote it, hoping one day that you’ll read it and know i now tell you truth

glitch witch bitch

so, i stopped identifying as wiccan (due to the racist origins of the word), but i am still a witch. a neo-pagan. i am also glitch vhs back on my bullshit, bitch, biscuit, bitch

i wrote something about scorpios of all things earlier and found that my passion for writing has been reignited, in typing at least. i wish for a typewriter (a pink typewriter) that i can click-clack on the keys of. that i can film myself click-clacking on the keys of. my blue switch mechanical keyboard is simply not enough!

speaking of which, i have a holiday present wishlist.

anyways, there are other things to share, like youtube videos i’ve made (as i’ve mentioned, i’m b.o.m.vhs.b.), like i said, only TRULY this time.

gosh. looking back, i even already referenced the title of this post (a former instagram username); my memory is so shit! it’s okay though, c’est la vie.

here are the recent videos i mentioned in passing:

anyways. those are the new videos.

so.

i feel like the katamari damacy king of the universe. destroying all the stars and then especially killing time and distracting and talking too much. distraction/surveying.

i have more, but, hmmm, let’s see. i am so tired of this. all of this, this life stuff. i mean, it’s fine, i’m not going to attempt suicide or anything stupid like that, but fuck, is it hard.

this living thing.

people ask me why i’m depressed. i don’t know what to tell them, except that wellbutrin takes me to a significantly less depressed state (think crying in bed rather than crying on the floor face down with snot in my hair.)

i’ve been enjoying online communities, and i highly recommend them during this isolating pandemic. i mean, it’s okay, but my discord and twitter especially have been bringing me a sense of community. instagram too, i suppose, although i feel that i simultaneously basically hate instagram for being so sex-worker-unfriendly.

listening (telling you like it’s livejournal in 2005) to perfect by mason and princess superstar.

this synth part, so cool! whoo!

lately i have been listening to a few songs on repeat. do you want a mix cd curated for you, by me? or better yet, a cassette.

perfection, ha ha.

yes, the parts in italics are lyrics. yes, i’m brutally obvious. also why yes, i am the cliché child of harley quinn and taylor swift.

i hit my head, somehow, perhaps from fainting from malnutrition? and now it is sore. a bump swells.

the skin on my face itches in the way that a deep need to get to something underneath to scratch an unsatisfiable itch is there. i know from experience that acting on the itching leads to scratching leads to picking leads to blood. blood, red blood, bright then if i don’t clean it with stinging alcohol it’s a brownish color.

the maroon of the vial of blood in my minifridge tells me it partially oxidized, even in a medical vial.

i did not pay for that, lol. it was free blood. i mean, technically.

i told someone i wouldn’t disclose the details though. for secrecy reasons, of course. what else?

hmmmm…. i wish i had cool pictures to show you all. i’m sure i do, but what use are they? do i upload old randoms or recent snaps?

this is my (unfinished) character in the game calico, which i preordered via kickstarter.

this game is cute and fun and makes me want a controller that works for pcs. unfortunately, those cost money…especially the pink ones! rude.

i took this test pt 1
i took this test pt 2

so there’s (pretty much) proof that i am the chaotic good i claim to be. a turbulent enfp, if you will! if you put weight into such things.

me, recently, getting pizza. it was delicious.

so, i guess, that’s most of it since we last talked.

i have been wearing boots in the snow too much. i have been drinking coffee and smoking weed, like always

what is a paragraph? i’ve never heard of such a thing! ok, jokes aside, i love u all.

xoxo
zélie

trying, failing, trying again.

my gums are bleeding.

things are hard, but i am strong. so i keep going. lost some video footage? keep going. lost 8tb of video footage? KEEP GOING.

i have updated my patreon, finally.

for $1/month or however much you can afford, you can access my patreon posts and discord server…the only other way to get access currently is to be manually added. i am working on it! and learning bots!

difficult, but more tedious than hard to do.

follow me on tiktok, too, if you have an account…

i don’t like to add too many elements to a blog post these days other than words; i feel like it distracts from my main points. do i have main points? perhaps.

i have also been on youtube, as per usual:

hmm. all vocal covers.

i am honestly dealing with so many stressors that i cannot discuss for now – more updates soon, hopefully.

xoxo
z

oh no it’s march almost april

and no blog posts yet??? this means worsening depression! who can blame me; i am self-quarantining. well. the answer is always someone but a n y w a y s it doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things.

things are changing, and it may matter. it’s hard (hard!) for me to know, to convey, to truly & fully understand, and to trust, oh gosh to trust my own brain… but the thing is, i will update my site to reflect any personal updates asap. i will also update you all when i am done with that! maybe not here. maybe on twitter. but who cares. who cares! oh you do? i am genuinely so sorry but i am oh so sick in a non-covid-19 way (as far as i know) so let’s just keep going okay.

i’m not manic i swear. i have my reasons to act whatever way i might at any given moment.

right now, and this is unrelated, my facebook friend wants scorpions for their animal crossing switch town. i highly respect that, despite not owning a switch or a switch lite (coughiwouldlikeonethocough)… also isolation is something i am used to, but it still hurts when increased, and of course, quarantine hits different when you live alone on your lease.

i have more videos? if i recall correctly? i will insert them below; you may peruse as you like.

that is so many! who knew i was capable of such output!!!

i guess that’d be an adequate blog post, for a day, if i were done talking. so i can stop at any point really; what freedom!

so let’s not sugarcoat it – we are in a pandemic, my president is an idiotic racist idiot (yes, saying idiot twice was in fact necessary)… it’s sunday, so there’s no mail, but that’s okay, because i’m trying to stay indoors, i GUESS. also my cats are fine, so there, you have the most important updates!

well.

there’s more.

i’m out of coffee, right now (this is bad). can you think past the moment – not under normal circumstances, but right now? i certainly can’t. maybe it’s the 3mg of klonopin i put in my body every day, or one or several of my many overdoses, but i can’t quite use my brain right any more. i even consider [redacted], for lucidity! well!!!

anyways,

coffee is wonderful, even with all its anxieties and tachycardia risks. it is a beautiful thing. i do love to caffeinate. but i, sir, madam, or super computer (that was a kero kero bonito reference idk), am an addict, tied by invisible but strong twine to the sweet, sweet, but more realistically bitter, bitter caffeine molecule. i knew a girl named laura once, i suppose we are still friends. we bonded so well for a short time! life is like that sometimes. she wore a caffeine molecule necklace (to be fair; this was early 2013, and in 2009 i wore a plastic moustachio necklace from hot topic every damn day, so,). she asked me to unfasten it; it had been stuck for weeks, she said. i tried. i failed. her skin was warm, not cold with circulation problems and soft elasticity like mine. not that she has rough skin – just, you know, average healthy skin.

i don’t have an ehlers-danlos diagnosis and am certainly not getting a professional one from a new rheumatologist in the middle of a pandemic’s beginnings at its almost-epicenter country in any timely manner! but that’s okay (because it has to be, of course!)

i do, in fact, meet the diagnostic criteria, through known means that includes a self-administered beighton test.

lately the self harm urges are back. trigger warning: self harm, but my box cutter looks awfully appealing sometimes lately, and i also enjoy entertaining the thought of continuing my watch-thru of 13 reasons why, to self-trigger, a show that i self-triggered with the night that i overdosed on amitriptyline early the next am (i attribute my actions largely to that show)…

there’s more, so much more, but we have time, so much time, don’t we?

xoxo

bitter bitch (ocd i)

obsessions and/or compulsions and i’m suddenly more disordered
well, not officially, until i get the test at least
but i’m not sure why i think about suicide 3 times an hour without wanting to or
why damp food on hard ceramic plates under cold water feels like it burns or
why i can’t stop physically removing parts of myself in calculated ways

i got to know parts of my body that i never was supposed to,
searching to become clean
for a long time i obsessively thought about setting myself on fire
my username some places is still immolation
but i only wanted to burn the impure out, not die

and the compulsions to…i can’t tell you, because my brain just shut off
but as soon as i’ve restarted i’m forced to know again how
the door handle has to be turned right; to check that it was locked
i know i put the key in and turned it but i’d sooner die than leave without
turning that damned handle one more damned time and oh i don’t know letting my cats die

i obsess over suicide, i obsess over weight, i self-hate like i’m paid to do it
at a good rate, and i do the things, the things i don’t talk about much,
and i do them until it hurts and i’m sort of kind of almost clean
then i don’t talk about them of course because i feel guilty
i guess i can say i’m so fucking ocd now because i can’t stop obsessively thinking about having ocd

before you come for me with the pitchforks and fire, or the wrong size bandaids,
remember how i blinked at every pole we drove past and didn’t stop when we passed a fence and i
gave myself a headache blinking so fast so much (or whatever)
i intricately research suicide methods because i can’t imagine not knowing everything about it
i document moments because i can’t imagine living without memories, and ones were taken from me

so here i am, self-made victim and so “poor me”, except maybe i actually
was built wrong then abused and raped and bullied and made so broken, pushed down smaller
my arthritic joints were ground down and my muscles eaten away for sustenance
and here i am, creative and once-brilliant, even, but then again not really here any more
so i guess it’s both good and bad that i’m feeling incredibly bitter