I’m Not A Second Option

Another one of the many reasons why Facebook is evil, because whether you’re on it or not there’s usually people in your life who are still friends with the people you don’t want to hear about anymore.

Thanks fam, I totally wanted to know that my recent ex is now in another state with his ex, or should I say, his first love that he is now reunited with…

Was I a good practise?

Was I a good mirror for you to witness all the ways you destroyed your first relationship?

Were you just settling for me? I mean, we look pretty fucking similar.

I hate you.

And as much as you’re fucking with my head without even being here, you aren’t the only one doing it either.

I guess my role is tits, oh and just a person to fuck with in general while you pine over a person you can’t have and who treats you like shit.

Fuck you.

I’ll deal with being treated in a lot of ways, I’ve come to accept the fate of my gender, I’m cool to use that to my advantage.

But I will NOT be a second fucking choice, or the second best option.

I would rather be alone forever, then be used. 

This is my message to any and all future men;


Fuck you if you think I’m putting up with your bullshit, because I’ve learnt my lesson. Next time around Ima gtfo the moment I sense any headfuckery.

(Yes, real tattoo, maybe you should read about it)

I don’t need this post to be long.

This is merely just to say.

Every part of me is almost completely destroyed.

Almost ready to start rebuilding.





Fated To Pretend

So this is another one of those rare for me midnight posts, and as like any of the old great writers, it is inspired by alcohol.

Oh here it starts.

But really, it’s been a weird series of events over today and yesterday. I don’t know whether I feel comfortable enough sharing a lot of these, as this is meant to be a blog and not a personal diary, so I’m going to be vague, really vague.

Or it could be just rambling, and like every drunk text message will read this and regret it in the morning.

I don’t think people truly understand the true depths of my introvertedness (not a word, is now, fuck you, that’s why).

I grew up an only child (my 3 older brothers are my half brothers and are all over 15 years older then me) to parents who are closer to the 70 side o 60. We grew up in a little town up in the hills, which was basically the heavy tree bush. My parents didn’t socialise with anyone, no parties, no real friends of the family. We had family events, that was all. My father was so rigid and awkward, he had to act so hard to be around people the act was almost creepy. I was very sheltered.

The social phobia is proving to be the biggest obstacle in my way at the moment. I’ve gone into severe timid hermit mode, and when I choose to meet people, I’m still passive as fuck. The thing is, I’ve always been split as a person in the most extreme way.

There’s weak, terrified of life Kim who will be sit at home and game, and lock herself away from the world. The only company she wants is her own.

Then there was crazy Kim, the one who took a bottle of Smirnoff to the face for a friend from her crazy schizophrenic brother when I was 16, while the other supposed men in the room cowered. The one who already has been dared to skinny dip on a beach and took the challenge.

Do you know how hard it is to be bold lettered paragraph Kim? Fucking exhausting man, I’m only small, only used to weigh 45kg and my heart used to beat out of my chest all the time. I had all the rage in the world, rage and a deep intense passion, it intimidated most people.

But at least I could go out into the world.

At least I could still socialise and some people even accepted me, I had friends.

Don’t get me wrong, this is not a post about wanting to be crazy stupid again. It’s about wanting to find a balance between the passion that gives me confidence and the peace that comes with feeling no strong opinions about anything.

You need to understand though, this extreme hermit mode has not been seen since I was 12 years old, that’s how long I have been in crazy intense mode.

Is this still some sort of break up thing? I have just purposely locked away my emotions and in order to keep the peace in my head I also block myself off from contact from everyone else. 

But I’m also deeply enjoying the solitude, is that normal?

Don’t get me wrong though, this is not a post about wanting to stay either way, it sounds like excuses but it’s not meant to be.

Bipolar is hard.

Break ups are hard.

Living alone without a job and car is hard.

Just understand though, that although I may have seen and done some shit, on a social level, I’m still incredibly naive. I’m on new anti depressants, I’m trying to job search while desperately brain storming ideas for making money, or a potential business. All while desperately trying to stay focused and positive enough to just do that in the days without getting side tracked or severely unmotivated.

And the worst feeling in the world is that itching, nagging feeling of…

Needing to get the fuck out of this ghost house. But not just down the road, I mean out the fucking country. I want a life change.

I want to dumb, silly fun things again.

I want to put myself out of my comfort zone.

The thing about my life is, I already stumble through not really understanding the change that happens so rapidly to me. I never react well in the moment.

Then there’s always something else that happens that always seems like the worst tragedy in the world.

I think my problem is I want no responsibilities and independence. It’s a fucked up, childish mindset, but it’s honest.

I just want to experience having friends and doing all the fun stuff again, I feel like I never had enough time…

(Happy birthday, I’m sorry, don’t ask)