My name is Jane

Rum & Spliffs

“Sometimes I think I was born backwards… you know, come out of my mum the wrong way. I hear words go past me backwards. The people I should love, I hate, and the people I hate…”                                                                                                                - Effy Stonem, Skins

I swear, sometimes i regret everything I’ve done. Every little thing. Yet at the same time, if i had to do it again, i would do it all the same. Is that still regret then, someone explain that to me.

It seems like no one means what they say anymore. And no one does what they mean. Which leaves us going round and round and round and finally back to the same point. That we are all so full of shit.

Sometimes regrets can be chucked aside, you know, forgotten. They always say you can leave the past behind. But what if that’s not what you want in the first place. What if you want nothing more than to go back to the past, even if the past doesn’t want you there.

I struggle with myself. Sometimes I am convinced there are two of me in this body. One that wants certain things, and another who wants everything else that isn’t. Sometimes I listen and sometimes and don’t. Sometimes i love and sometimes i can’t. 

Like every two faced being, there is always the good side and the bad i suppose. To the ones i love, i show them my good. And to the ones i love the most, i show my bad. You’d understand.

Perhaps I don’t know who I am. Or maybe, i did, but just forgot along the way. I used to be very lost. But now, I’m just wandering.

Tell me something true

“It’s a lie. It’s a bunch of sad strangers photographed beautifully, and all the glittering assholes who appreciate art say it’s beautiful ‘cause that’s what they wanna see. But the people in the photos are sad, and alone… But the pictures make the world seem beautiful, so the exhibition is reassuring which makes it a lie, and everyone loves a big fat lie.”

                                                                                                                              -Alice Ayres, Closer

I used to think that journals, especially those in the form of blogs were by far the dumbest things in existence. But then again, i also used to believe in true love. Clearly, sometimes we are wrong about life.

Sometimes you have so much to say, but no one to tell. Sometimes its the other way round. And sometimes, you just haven’t the courage to say the things you want. Not to someone’s face at least.

It’s easy to put on a mask though. We all do, every damn day of our lives. We go to jobs we hate, we laugh at jokes because it would be awkward not to, and we sometimes say we’re sorry when we really couldn’t give a shit. In fact, no, we do that alot more than just sometimes, don’t we.

But here’s the problem. As much as we want be to or think we are fine, we never really are. We are all too human. It doesn’t take words nor actions nor people to hurt us. All it takes are our very own thoughts. Why else do we cut ourselves, or bend over toilets vomiting or hit walls till our hands bleed? It’s because these thoughts are dangerous when they haven’t anywhere to go. Some things i feel i just need to get out, to no one in particular, but also to everyone at the same time, do you see.

So this is where i can take off my mask but still stay hidden.

This is where i can stop pretending.