Attempting to Break the Cycle

Whats so weird about this is that I have this weird ass feeling that every time my back is turned you’re fucking and sucking someone else.

Like why do I have such strong feelings for someone that wants my complete and total destruction?

And in all the scenarios I don’t know if I remember correctly

on the sidewalk with Dashawn

at the Starbuck with Dashawn

When Dashawn grabbed your arm

walking out of my aunts place in the Bronx

every time I left you alone at the hostel in New York and Boston

and I KNOW you don’t like Dashawn because I have a photo of you making a face at him in a picture with you

Like why is my assurance, my confidence in your character being OVERIDDEN by PARANOIA AND HOPE!?

LIKE YOU’LL EVER GET BACK TOGETHER WITH ME WHEN YOU WONT EVEN RESPOND TO ME WHEN I ASK YOU TO JUST TELL ME I’M GOING TO BE OKAY!?

THATS WHAT I WANTED!!!

THATS ALL I FUCKING ASK FOR!!!

THATS WHAT I’M SCREAMING INTO THE FUCKING VOID ABOUT!!!

AND ALL THESE VOICES KEEP DOING IS PULLING ME ONE WAY THEN THE OTHER THEN BACK AGAIN!!!

THIS IS SO

FUCKING

DIFFICULT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Illusive Ranting 3: Deep Delusion

Now that I’ve finally begun to truly move on, now that I have a partner, and now that I’m desiring a new, serious relationship I see you, somehow finding me just, on the street with my new partner, slapping me, and dropping to one knee.

I can’t say I’m afraid of that.

I can’t say if I’d be angry.

But every time I see it, I just accept it.

I accept you.

I accept my fate.

And maybe I shouldn’t be this weak.

Maybe it will never happen, not in a million years.

Not in another lifetime.

Not even in a parallel dimension!

But I still see it, and my heart sinks, not for myself, but for this other, unknown lover, unknown love, unknown potential.

It’s just another tragedy.

Night Market

Just now, in my sleep deprived haze, I saw a woman walk by with another man.

At first I thought he was Indian, and that she looked like you.

I didn’t get up to ask her anything however, I just let them walk on by.

Even if with a closer look, and she didn’t look like you, I still see you in this ocean of skulls.

Phrenology.

All the women with Nordic Ancestry wearing their in high tight ponytails will drive me crazy this summer.

And maybe every summer after that.

Shot in the face

Voices are now telling me that that night in Mew York you know, with your back to the tree, as if there’s any other night they want to talk about…

Voices tell me you wanted me to get shot in the face by that police officer.

Welp.

Machine Learning

Voices in my head keep saying “Daniel Fairclough has what it takes to be a celebrity, and she doesn’t”

as if that’s all this boils down to.

In my mind, you already were a celebrity, one of “Norway’s Next Stars” which featured your Hip-Hop Dance routine “Growing Up.”

And maybe it’s the consequences of that performance that set you on your path.

So what do you tell yourself at night? That you’ve never had a goal? Never had a dream? No desires?

Then truly, you must be an enlightened one. Here to set us on the path before judgement day takes us all.

Or have you always wanted to be nothing more than a cog in a wheel of the great machine we call “society?”

What the fuck ever.

Revenge

Voices seem to say or imply that:

“The best way to get revenge on you is to have a good life, to literally be better off without you.”

And these same words seem to justify you’re own suicide.

I’ve said it before: You’re the only thing going wrong in my life. Voices or otherwise, just not even being able to have a dialogue about you, and you’re my favorite person, at least the way I remember you.

Do what you will, I don’t care, but I do intend to keep living said “good life.”

Warm Weather

The nice weather means that I’ll see more and more women walk down the street that look like or remind me of you.

I’ll do my best not to pursue or chase after them.

Hopefully.

You don’t want me

Voices keep telling me stories about how or when and where you would’ve run away from me, never to return.

Dislodging your hand from mine on Newbury street and trying to steal my credit card that I didn’t have.

Pretending to pass out and if I had let you fall you would’ve pretended to have amnesia.

All these things and more and I remember your last email to me, when I said I was going to Norway and you said you would spread racism!

You don’t want me!

I have all this evidence to say that’s a true statement and yet you haunt me and I feel as if either I can or someone isn’t allowing me to let go!

LET ME LET GO!!!

Negrophilia

For some reason I’m remembering when you told me about the French girl/woman on the plane to Argentina or maybe even back home to Norway, wherever you where, and your argument that I should be enthralled with her was “because she’s French!”

I remember buying the first book in that image and still I haven’t finished reading it, but I got the gist of it from a YouTube video, and I think, did they teach you about African American migration to France in your history classes in Norway? Or was someone else, presumably your “mother” at the computer typing and using your name?

doesn’t matter who it was now, I think modern day France hates Americans of any shape or stripe, and the best bet for a black guy seems to be South Korea, god willing.

Am I a piece of shit?

Watching this legal battle between two streamers, man and a woman and they were in a relationship and he’s suing her for defamation and she’s claiming sexual assault.

He started crying while explaining it, and for some reason my mind went back to when I took that trip to Norway.

Of course some guy going crazy across the world could be that kind of a threat. Of course.

I really wasn’t able to think about anything, is my defense. I was running on pure emotion, feeling, urges.

And while I don’t think I would’ve assaulted you, yeah, given what little I know or knew about you, for one, this didn’t seem like a novel experience for you or for people in your friend group, and two, I understand if you thought I had ulterior motives.

2026 marks being 8 years away from 2018, and while I haven’t bought a gun I am further away from where I was mentally back then, at least I think I am, it feels like I am.

Yeah some things still bug me and I come to this blog but otherwise, what else is there? I need to vent, and I don’t want to shop around for a therapist. Therapy just doesn’t feel real, doesn’t feel like it works, and my problem is that I need to get it out of my system, get you out of my head, it’s not like I’m struggling with ideas that you still love me and will come back or some shit.

Not at all, despite the voices insistence in it.

Anyway.

"Freedom"

Voices just said “this is why she’s not allowed on the internet because she would think she could be free of me.”

Bro whatever or whomever that describes sounds like they are in an abusive relationship with someone. I don’t know who.
Further more, the voices went on to say “we would all want to be at the house wherever you are.”

I can try to get my brother to accept living with you, until we find our own place, but if anyone else decided to show up, unannounced and act like they run shit, my brother would take out his fucking gun, and fucking shoot them.

End of story.

Salvageable

Do you remember that folder of me confronting people about my psychosis?

Today, one of those persons reached out.

It still seems as if some people are still willing to be my friend.

This is good.

This makes me feel good.

On repeat

The story so far is that in Argentina you fucked your dad.

But now in this nebulous web there is the girl that isn’t you, you, Howard, the rest of your family, and apparently Howards band? Who wanted that specific scenario for the music.

Your father was mad because he didn’t want to do it.

Voice also say you wish you just said that instead of literally everything else.

I’m writing this down because it’s going to repeat in my mind sans voices if I don’t do anything about it.

As amicable as I was when meeting Steinar and the gang, I can’t say I want thoughts of him knulling du arsehole, over and over in my brain.

Heaux VS Housewife

Are they trying to turn you from a heaux (hoe) to a housewife?

Earlier in the day the voices said some group of women whom you may or may not be affiliated with were going to remain as “sluts.”

And now they’re claiming you’re out there in Norway, walking down the street and giving random men blowjobs?

Like I appreciate the sexual liberty but honestly I’m jealous, and if I can’t have it then I don’t want to hear about it, unless it’s coming directly from you.

That hasn’t changed.