My McBlog - simply because I seriously like rambling...
Gratis bloggen bei
Story of my life
Hehe, I've been listening to too much Green Day. 'American Idiot' is my favorite album, since it was my first. Have you ever noticed you like the one CD by the same band (that might have made higher quality ones, too) you've owned longest and listened to the most often the most? Emotional connection is everything.
Whatever. I was attempting to explain something to (imaginary)you. 'American Idiot' is not only because of 'Boulevard of Broken Dreams' (which is the story of my life) the best, but also because of the tale it tells.
St. Jimmy, Whatsername and co. I absolutely love the way it describes a youth by talking about something else. Fictional characters that stand for real people, places, symbolism, everything is a little bit altered but you get exactly what they're talking about. You can even feel it. Conjuring images in the audience's head only makes everything stronger.
And this is what I'm actually trying to say: I've been looking for a way to write about my life as if it was a different thing. As if I was living in a different world.
What I came up with?
Well, everyone knows I call myself a vampire and these days I feel 600 years old. I'm unknown, but have an identity. Thus I'm calling myself (I only just decided) Jane Catherine Doe. I guess you know what a Jane Doe is (and I'm currently writing a story about one), the Catherine's simply in there to emphasise the 'I am an actual person with emotions and an identity that noone but me knows and perhaps not even I do' thing.
I recently made a pact with death, so I suppose I can make it a person. Karma, too. They live in the same street, door-to-door neighbors. And Melody, of course. Don't forget Melody, standing for my muse and the music the name is born out of.
And there it is: My own fictional world to live in.
If I was a songwriter, I could write an album, too. But unfortunately I suck at that. The only song of mine that actually is good, 'Home of the Lost and the Broken' would work perfectly well with the rest, though... Perhaps maybe eventually.
Anyway, that's all I'm saying. I've been around eternities and still don't belong here. I'm a 600-year-old vampire and I never owned a castle to go up in flames.
I live by the rules of 'No regrets' these days. As I've told you a million times before, I'm a huge fan of analyzing and finding out what I really want is actually quite easy this way. Simply chose the path that you'd regret not taking.
I've made my share of mistakes, some stupid decisions, bad ideas I acted upon, but ever since 'No regrets' is the one constant in my mind, I do things the way I want to do them. Even though I still make do things wrong, of course, sometimes even knowingly.
Just say 'Screw the consequenses' and live. No matter whether the consequenses really are horrible. At least you followed your inner voice. If it says "but I want to...", then let it lead the way. But don't regret things. Regrets ruin the glory that is life.
I'm also angry. Finally. I might have mentioned it before, but I'm fucking grateful for it. Finally breaking through the passivity. Anger feels divine. I don't know why anybody does drugs.
Other than that... News about my life: I bought a hat. It's really cool and I'm so in love with it I wear it every minute I'm allowed to (not in class).
I'm in the middle of rehersals for two plays.
I HATE SCHOOL! No fucking energy left to deal with that as well as the rest of my problems and things to do. I'm tired. No, exhausted. And real life is messy and weird. And perhaps maybe the closest thing to a real life I've ever had.
And I'm going to shut up now. This is ridiculous. Have you noticed I've lost all my eloquence? My phrases are all gone. I only use the simplest stuff I can think of for there is no space in my head for more complicated ones.
Just a few general thingies
Thought I might just as well write about some things here, too. I can't believe it either, but I still write in my diary - even started the second one. It's a bit creepy, since I never managed to keep doing that for more than, like, two weeks. And I so prefer typing... More information faster way more eloquently put. And in English.
I miss the English. I miss the writing. I miss the daily highs. I'm a disappointment to my readers, seeing as I simply don't update. I have no freaking clue just how I'm supposed to start writing again if I never have time anymore? Seriously!
Even the holidays were too hectic and filled with stuff to do and dates (Haha, not what you think. I don't date. I don't believe in dating. I have enough problems without dating.) and places to be... I wrote like 16 pages tops, including the 8 pages of 'Sanity'. Last year, the summer holidays were spent writing a freakin' hundred pages for 'Why we can't hate Dr McDreamy' alone!
It's not that I'm lazy or anything - as a matter of fact the issue is that I'm too busy. I'm already in the middle of rehersing three (!) different plays, including (and there's some irony in that) a new version of 'Scrooge'. Been there, done that. Or not. It really is a different play.
And I have friends. Still. Creepy, ain't it? But I like it. One day a week (approximately), we meet. I've been neglecting them quite a bit while I was actually so busy that I was barely home (and accidentally lost a few kilos by simply never having time to eat), and now I have to make up for lost time. They're seriously awesome. It's a shame you'll never meet them. We're very different people, but that makes the whole thing so much more fun.
My family is taking a lot of my time as well, especially my dear sis. She's in the middle of puberty, meaning she so needs attention. We've never gotten along quite as well as we do these days. I'm keeping her entertained and because she can't be mad at me, it's more fun than a burden. I actually enjoy it a whole fucking lot. She's really great.
And when school starts again, I'll have even less time for myself. As in no time. Aikido, singing lessons, acting, studying, family, friends, more acting (because we're getting close to a new premiere here) and let's not forget eating and drinking and sleeping. And absolutely no booze.
I made a rule: No alcohol on school days and respective weekends. Exception only, if there's a REALLY very special occasion. I guess I won't be able to keep to that rule completely, but hell... I've been known to bend rules without breaking them.
Then again, I did break Rule Number One and now I'm suffering the consequenses. No fun, I can tell you. I can't elaborate, but PLEASE care not to break Rule Number One. It's such a bloody mess.
It did help make me angry, though. I very much appreciate that. I hate myself for handling the situation, but I indeed manage to be more angry than scared at last. It's like someone lifted the weight of the world from my shoulders. Very... liberating. I love being angry... Fear sucks. Anger rules.
And that's that. I really don't know how to squeeze 'writing' into my timetable. But maybe it'll turn out alright.
Yeah, well... Have a great time. I need to go hide under a blanket.
I decided to stop writing about my life here. I even started a real diary and I'm pretty sure it'll be okay, I'll use it.
The thing that always upset me about writing here was not that it was public, but that it wasn't written by hand. You know, it's so cool, finding old diaries. You can touch them, feel them, smell them, see them.
Online, things are way less personal. I need this little bit of intimacy and secrecy that is a real diary.
My diary is beautiful. It has Shakespeare's handwriting on it and looks really great. If you decide to follow that link, you can take a look at it.
Anyway, that's that. I'm sorry my writing here has come to such a sudden end, but it's better this way. I will continue rambling about my fanfictions and other stories, though.
Thank you for reading.
So, first performance/premiere/opening night is in four days. And I suck. I suck big time. My acting is horrible. I'm once more just not good enough. For whom? Myself, I s'ppose. I sometimes wish I could go back to hiding, but in the fucking limelight, you just can't do that.
I hate how scared I already am. It hasn't even really started yet and I'm already frightened enough to have more panic attacks, even though I have less time.
Those panic attack thingies are rather interesting, by the way. Okay, they're painful and you can't breathe and you just want it to end, because the only other option would be ending your life, but the way they start has me sort of - dare I say it - intrigued.
The thing is, I'm alone at home for four or five days. Which means I can finally live by my inner clock. My own life and all. Conveniently, it's also vacation time, so I can literally stay up till 4 am or something, listening to music via youtube, reading Dramione fics and eating stuff. Throw in the occasional talking to myself and - don't forget those - my panic attacks and you get the sort of life I'd live if I had my own apartment.
Anyway, I was talking 'bout my PAs (yeah, it looks ridiculous, writing 'panic attack' in every sentence, possibly more than once, so I'm using that short form thingy). The thing is, I mostly get those when I'm - surprise, surprise - enjoying the pain the stories inflict on me. Dunno. I'm relishing in, craving for, eternally grateful for the fanfictions' ability to make me suffer. Stupid enough, they also make me feel inferior, because there are better authors out there than me. And the lack of my own lovelife keeps drowning me anyway, so it's not that much of a surprise I get panic attacks while reading painful scenes.
What astounds me, though, is that I sometimes get them without a warning or an indicator. They just start. That's crazy and horrible and suffocating, but interesting. A mystery waiting to be solved.
Do I sound weird? I think I sound weird. Anyway, good night.
Yeah, I'm still alive, sorta. Just thought I should let you know.
Truth is, I miss writing here, a whole lot even. But I cannot find the time. Seriously, I'm so busy! Usually, I hardly ever leave the house/my room and now I barely find a minute of peace! Well, I love it, being needed, but I'm also completely exhausted. Like I said, I'm not used to it.
It's three to five rehersals a week, every one of them takes two to three hours (Yesterday, I had a FOUR hour rehersal!), plus Aikido, plus - hypothetical - singing lessons (I had to skip a few due to my lack of time...), plus school, plus friends (Hey, it's weird enough I finally have friends, I can't just not pay them any mind, right?), plus family. You know how much stuff that is for someone who is completely content with spending day and night in her room doing absolutely nothing whatsoever?
It's starting to show. I space off more than I usually do, either I'm fully focused on a thing or I don't even realize it's there at all. A little bit stupid, but hey, that's me. I'm used to being totally pathetic.
Talking 'bout pathetic: Yesterday, I didn't even have time for a panic attack! Yay! *sigh* I'm so gonna miss the stress... Back to two of those a day...
I was so busy running from that place to the other and back again and then there and then concentrating on that and being in that sort of environment and then hurrying back to that life and then this... Posters, rehersal, my friend's birthday...
I left the house 10.45 am, then returned for a half hour or so (15.05 - 15.45 pm), then rehersal from 17.00 to 21.30 pm, back home (22.10 pm), shoving some random stuff down my throat - the first food that day - then leaving again (22.35 pm) to go to one of my friend's birthday, staying there till 4.35 am... Yeah, it was as chaotic as it sounds.
It's gonna suck, you know. Last performance. Not quite sure how I'm supposed to survive that. Another nervous breakdown? Will I be able to keep myself from actually doing it this time? I clearly need to be around people that night. Unfortunately, next day's a school day, so I won't be able to stay up - and safe - for long.
It's incredibly dangerous, leaving me alone in a moment like this. When I lose control, I can't do anything to prevent it. The only thing I can do is watch and hope it'll be over soon and that I'm still alive afterwards. WHICH SUCKS SO MUCH!
God damnit, I'm 16! I'm not supposed to know that sort of pain. Right? I shouldn't have experienced it when I was 13 and I certainly shouldn't stills suffer the consequenses! I should not be this person!
I'm enjoying it while it lasts, of course, and I'm absolutely gloriously happy, but what the fuck am I supposed to do about my anger? My fear? I really do have panic attacks. It's hard enough making it out of them alive, but after the last performance... Well, back to not being needed anymore...
You know, right now, I can't die. I just can't. It's not an option, because my director would possibly raise me from the dead to kill me if I did. And I love acting so fucking much... I also adore hanging out with those people, they're all so cool...
And after the damn last performance, it'll all be gone. Again.
You know, there's a reason for my being a coward. I never leave the house, I never do anything, I simply wait for things to happen, because you can't lose what you don't have.
I have friends, these days. That scares the crap out of me. I am needed, on stage, I am needed. That scares me even more. Do you have any clue how difficult it is, not thinking about losing it all, all the time? Whenever I'm not busy, I think about it. And that's just seriously screwed/messed/fucked up.
I hate being who I am, it makes it impossible for me to find a moment of peace. And I also hate that once more I'm screaming out for help via the internet. I'm baring my soul here. It's beyond pathetic, especially because noone reads this anyway. I mentioned/rambled about it before: This is like a diary for me. You don't publish diaries. How sick am I really? I should be locked up, you know. Thread to myself.
I just noticed how eloquently this whole thingy is written. Hehe, I'm writing about my fucking life as if it was nothing but a damn book! I dare say this ruins my credibility. But what else am I supposed to write? How? I never write anything that doesn't sound completely dramatic, it's my style of writing, can't change that. *sigh*
I assume it's enough for now. Let's just say that I'm as happy as I can be. Wouldn't be a lie. Not the truth either, but certainly no lie. I'm a roller coaster. Either completely high or completely down. And the better the highs, the worse are the lows. Savvy?
Acting the second
Had a rehersal again, yesterday, and it was awesome! I think I wasn't boring that time, even sorta funny - which definitely is an improvement - and acting is so much fun! It's one hell of a high, and I'm very sorry for you if you never get to try it.
Problem no 1: I had to walk in high-heels. Did I ever wear high-heels before yesterday? No. Were the shoes my size? No. Hehe.. Let's just say, it was an intersting experience, even though I almost fell/actually fell several times, didn't quite know how to stand straight and my feet were an aching mess after 3 hours in them. *grin* Brought the damn shoes home with me and now I need to practice walking. Good luck, girl...
Problem no 2: I had to dance. I am so fucking bad at dancing! But it's absolutely hilarious and I'm meant to fall on the floor during dancing anyway, so it's really nice.
Problem no 3: I need to change on stage. As in, change clothes. Well, I'm fine with that, but I'm not all together sure you can't see through that paravan thingy. I mean, I'd even get naked on stage - 'cause hell, who cares? If it's my part, I'll do it, that's how I function. - but it's still a little weird, right?
Problem no 4: For the rest of the scene, I have to keep a straight face, absolutely stunned, expressionless, while people interact - in a funny way, I might add. You see, I tried that one before, in "Where the heart is", and unfortunately, my face always twisted into a quick smile before I could stop it, especially when the audience reacted. And this scene is way longer! It's even rather exhausting, staring into the air for that long! Help! I practiced today, in Politics. Sat there with a straight face for a while. Unfortunately, Politics is not a funny subject, so it was no challenge. It simply made me want to fall asleep. *sigh*
Anyway, those are my current troubles. But I think I'll manage, and it's so much fun, it's really, really worth it.
I know, haven't been around to write a lot the last few days/weeks. Sorry about that, really. I wish I had more time. Again, I need to move out asap, so I can finally be the only one who uses the internet (in the middle of the night, too).
I kinda see this as my diary, journal, whatever you prefer to call it and not writing all the things down that I feel inside makes me ready to explode with fear and anxiety. I don't want to die without the people I love knowing what's going on with me. No, as far as I know, I'm not gonna die soon. But sometimes it feels like it, and I'm not ready to take that risk.
Anyway. I was going to write about the things I've been so busy doing. Which are, basically, acting and sleeping. The occasional Aikido. That's it. Oh, yeah: I ate every once in a while, too.
Yes, acting. You know, I joined this group (called Exil-Theater) and since we're in the middle of our rehearsals, hardly a day passes when I don't go to Bruchsal (which is where our stage is located).
How I ended up acting so far away from home? Well, let's just say that apparently I was good in 'Where the heart is', the last Klimpermimen play. Haha, I'm being arrogant again. As a matter of fact, a lot of people did tell me I'd done a good job, so I guess I have reason to show off just the tiniest bit. Personally, I liked my performance, too. Got to scream, yell, freak out, be happy and to sing. Naturally. *wink*
It was tons of fun, being that character. Uma Thurman's part ('Where the heart is' is based on the movie with the same name), Daphne McBain. Awfully cool. That was the first time I got to wear a leather jacket, my hair was quite amazing and I was-... fat. Yeah, I was truly fat that summer. *grin*
I don't know why, but I seem to gain weight whenever I'm stressed, even though acting-season is always best for my mood. I love acting-related stress, so I don't quite understand why it makes me fat. Might be the pizza's fault. We never have much time for cooking the last few weeks before opening night, thus we mostly order food or eat pizzas. Or happiness makes me look ugly. Dunno. Whatever. It's worth it.
Rambling again. I was talking about my being spotted. A guy who works with my Dad saw our play and asked me whether I was interested in acting someplace else as well. Since it would have been beyond foolish to decline, I said "yeah, sure".
After some months, my Dad told me to call the director and I did. I called someone I'd never even talked to. You know, I have the weirdest phobia of phones. Honestly, even looking at one creeps me out. It's getting better, but I still have problems answering it, let alone phoning anyone. And I phoned that guy. Hah! I was rather proud of myself. *sigh*
And then it started. I went to a couple of meetings, then got a part and ever since, there've been rehearsals. Oh, our play is 'Tartuffe' by Molière. Maybe you've heard of it, or at least of the author. I believe he's quite famous. No judgement if you've never heard of him, though. I hadn't either, before I got the part.
We have easter vacations these days, you know. The only day when I didn't need to go someplace was Friday, and that only because the original plans - a walking-tour with my co-Aikidokas - were cancelled. Funny, ain't it (wow, I never used 'ain't' before)? I'm kind of glad. Less time for suffering. Vacations depress me. I wallow in self-pity. No time for that now.
It makes me happy, the acting. Really, seriously happy. As you might know by now, I'm constantly chasing highs, and acting provides a gigantic one. Which is awesome.
Things I like about acting:
- interaction with people (who might even like me)
- I feel all grown up
- standing on a stage makes up for all the bad things life throws at me
- it's hard work and absolutely worth every second of it
- it helps you understand and tolerate people better
- I don't feel like a total loser, 'cause I'm okay at it
- applause is oxygen
Unfortunately the part I have - some horrible chick called Marianne (try pronouncing it the French way, will you?) - is rather undefined and I don't get her at all. I don't know her. How she reacts, how she speaks, what she thinks. I don't get it. Which sucks big time, since it makes me feel like I'm a terrible actress. Which I'm not. I'm clearly not one of the best (also due to my expressionless face), but I don't exactly suck at it. And this part, it makes me feel as though I do.
Anyway, life was good until Thursday. Then I looked bad in front of fellow actors (as a human being, not as an actress) and someone stole my bike.
Had to keep myself awake all night watching 'Lost' so I didn't have time to think about how much of a boring little Miss Goody-Two-Shoe without a bike I am. It's so hard to keep breathing in those moments... I stopped watching at about 5 am, when I was ready to drop dead - from exhaustion, not suffocating guilt and fear - and knew the moment - right before you fall asleep, when the day passes before your eyes once more - wouldn't happen too strongly.
I'd be more than okay with being content for a while, steady, but I'm not and I can't. It's the thing with the droplets. Makes me think I might be slightly bipolar (though I don't know whether one can be only 'slightly' bipolar), I'm either so fucking happy I can't stop smiling, or so damn unhappy I have to try everything to not simply go and kill myself. Can't control it. Can change within a second. And that, that is god damn difficult to handle. Be glad you're not me.
More ramblings about writing
Here I am again. Finally. 'It's been awhile' (reference to one of my all-time favorite songs by Staind), hasn't it?
I found a Nick Hornby interview not so long ago - no, I'm not the girl that tries to find out everything about everybody she adores on the internet, I simply,... let's call it 'bumped into it' - and he said he never reads reviews. I was a little stunned. How can anybody not read reviews?
Personally, I always want feedback. Even writing this makes me feel like I'm talking to someone, sharing some detail about my life, I'm not just doing it for myself.
And he doesn't read reviews. He gets them and he doesn't read them. What's the point in publishing if you don't need the satisfaction of hearing first-hand that you made an impact - even if only the smallest - on someone's life?
I honestly don't get it. Maybe he's a better guy. It's pathetic, needing people telling you stuff about the things you created, like oxygen, just for few, fleeting moments of happiness. Right? It'd be great if I could write for myself and noone else. *sigh*
Anyway, gotta go.
I'm frustrated and-... A VAMPIRE!
I got to get my own place. I cannot spend my med-school years living under one roof with my parents, too! Seriously. The rhythm everyone is living by here is driving me crazy.
My parents sleep on the couch (which is in the middle of our house) in the middle of the day, everytime I have to pee or want to eat random stuff. Which is awfully annoying.
And then - worst things of them all - they sleep at night. I don't. And since our house carries noise easily, I can't brush my teeth past ten (which is at least two hours away from my normal go-to-bed time) or eat in the middle of the night (since I'm getting frustrated with cold food and want to be able to cook or put a pizza into the oven or something) or be online (even during vacation time) when it's not even eleven.
Guys! I don't sleep at night! I hardly ever even wake up before sunset! I start my activities past eight pm, not am! And it's absolutely horrible, having to suppress my normal creative time. Bad enough that school makes it impossible for me to live my life the way I want to live it (meaning: when it's dark), but seriously!
I gotta get my own place. Something small. Really, really small. Like, two tiny rooms tops. I love not having much room! Not much light! It's a lot more cozy!
I consider myself a vampire, you know. Maybe I told you. No, I'm not a satanist, and I don't drink blood either, but I am a vampire. I cannot stand daylight! The only weather that really suits me is rain and thunderstorms. Which speaks for itself. I simply don't feel good in bright sunlight. Sunrise, sunset, that's okay. I love the romantic feeling of it, it's nice and golden. But if I had to choose, it'd be night forever. Savvy?
You know, I already told you I had red hair. A while ago, someone offered to burn me at the stake and I simply said: "Well, tough luck, pal. Vampires don't burn." And that about summs me up in a nutshell. *grin*
I have a thing for vampires. I've been having that for a very long time. I adore vampire stories (You ever read 'Twilight'? NO! Don't think I started loving vampires after having read that! I read the book because I loved vampires!). I adore vampire movies (Just watch 'Interview with the vampire', I swear, it's brilliant!). Several vampire stories in my head (that I'll never write down). Even my favorite musical is about vampires! It's with Jim Steinman's music (which is my absolute favorite) and so fucking cool!
Argh! VAMPIRES! I love vampires! I once did a presentation about them in English, because we were free to choose a topic. I dare say now everyone thinks I'm crazy, but hey! I am, am I not? Whatever. The presentation wasn't very good nor very long, but I scratched the topics that fascinate me so much about them.
They live forever. Which not only gives them time to learn everything they're ever interested in (they can study medicine, law, learn every language in the world, travel the entire world (at night, naturally), and do everything else they find cool), but also makes them suffer eternally. Which is awfully amazing.
You know me, I'm a masochist. I love pain. And if there's anything out there that is more tragic than the nature and 'life' of a vampire, you better tell me soon and I won't belive you anyway.
They have to kill everything they love, simply because that is what they do. They can't create life, instead, they destroy it.
They yearn for light and can only 'survive' in darkness. They're savages, always thirsty. There's nothing that can truly satisfy their needs.
Even biting someone, drinking their blood doesn't give them more than a tiny little moment of pleasure that is at the same moment replaced with despair, because it doesn't last.
They are dreaded and hated everywhere, and want to be loved, but still can't help it, they have to keep making people fear and loathe them.
Yeah, vampires are damn tragic. I'd love being one. Which is probably sick and twisted, but that's me, right?
Besides, they're damn hot (which might not be me, but I'd love to anyway *wink*). They hold this great seduction. They're as scary as they possess something that simply draws you in. It's the thing with danger. They're dark, defeated and dangerous. A mystery waiting to be solved. A little game with death... Why not?
Why do you think the vampire lords always get the bored, frustrated young women who simply want to live? I bet you could do the same thing with guys, right? Tasty guys... *licks lips*
Anyway, that was some hardcore rambling. My original point was that I really need to move out as soon as possible. Sure, I love our house, and I love my parents above everything else, but they're simply not the same kind of people that I am. There's no way in hell I can keep going like this forever. I need the freedom to live by my inner clock.
Let the vampire in me out... *evil laugh*
[eine Seite weiter]