kind-of-venting

Hello

So I don’t know if anyone is actually going to read anything I write but I decided to start this blog just to kind of vent my feelings. 

So my name is Katherine, I live in Sydney Australia, I am 17, and I hate myself. I hate everything about myself. I am fat, I have no friends, i hate terrible acne, and I’m not smart. I want to change all of these things so I don’t feel like dying everyday that I’m alive. 

I’ll mostly just talk about how I am feeling today, my weight, my skin, etc to try and fix myself, kind of like diary entries I guess. sorry if this is depressing or you just do not care about me, I probably wouldn’t care about me either so its okay, but if you do even read one of my posts thanks for that anyways. 

The world is a pretty shitty place and I believe that more on some days than I do others. It’s full of lots of deception, degradation, racism and prejudice. Often times, people don’t look at each other as equals because their ego won’t allow them to do so. People are alienated because of their beliefs, religion and culture. It’s so sad because a majority of the world is like this. Some people probably don’t even realize their being disrespectful because harsh judgement of others has become such a common occurrence. I see the people in my life do it all the time, they’ll ridicule the ones around them for looking or behaving a certain way or liking a certain thing.

I wish more people would be genuinely kind and supportive to each other. It would be a better world if we could see the greater good in one another, but I know that it’s unlikely because it’s hard for people to accept things that are out of the norm for them.

That’s why when I see people do simple things like hold the door open for someone, give up their seats on the bus to someone who looks like they need it more, smile at strangers and greet them, say things like “bless you” when someone sneezes, politely ask for something, compliment others, and appreciate things that they receive no matter how big or small or how expensive they are, I think that the world isn’t too bad. I wish more people were grateful towards small gestures like these because they tend to go unnoticed all the time. I, personally, get so happy when a stranger says something kind to me or to other people. It helps restore some of my faith in the world.

My mom tells me "You’re beautiful, but I’d like to see you lose weight” so often, but I only wonder why she treats two entirely different things like they’re in close relation to each other? Why is she talking as if I’m a full rose in bloom, but I’d be prettier with less petals?

My mom asks me at age thirteen, “Are you embarrassed of your stretch marks?” I ponder and wonder why she thinks I would be embarrassed of these beautiful rivers of markings upon my body.

My mom teases me of my thighs. But I cannot hear her over roars thunder so loud and mighty, that even the mighty god Thor is jealous of me.

“You’re beautiful, but I’d like to see you lose weight.” 

Don’t tell me that my rose garden would look better with fewer roses.

Nails

Just because I am a girl
Who has her nails painted
Does not mean I am weak.
Just because I happen to have my nails painted
When I go to the gym
Does not mean I don’t know what I’m doing.
Because yes,
I am a girl.
I wear makeup.
I wear dresses.
Sometimes I cry at corny movies
And yes, I paint my fucking nails.
That does not mean I am weak.
That does not mean I need you to help me.
That does not mean you get to treat me like a flower,
Fragile and delicate,
Like I’m going to break if the wind blows too hard.
Because I am not a flower. I am a girl.
I am made of flesh
And bone
And muscle. Just like you.
I am a person.
You do not get to treat me
Like something less than that,
Like something inferior,
Like something weak,
Just because I have my nails painted.

i don’t miss him in particular. i don’t miss his face or his personality or anything anymore. what i do miss is being so close to someone. exchanging conversations about your day. getting cute text messages. being able to snuggle against them and hold hands and them playing with your hair.

but none of that really means anything unless the person means something to you too.

 i’ve honestly been so much happier on my own these past months not having anything to do with guys. sure, at times i get sad that some people seem to have it all when everything is going well for them and they have a significant other who cares for them as well. it just makes me feel lonely. but then i remember that this is my life and it’s different from everyone else’s. someone caring about me isn’t as important as me getting my own life together. i am happy on my own and the next time i do get with someone, it should add even more happiness. no more of this confusing, me making excuses for people nonsense. 

so i was walking out of school today and i was just observing all the people as i walked through the hallways…most of them were making out with their boyfriends, and i was just thinking to myself, like what is the point of being in a relationship? i think people are in one just to say they are in one, well that’s most of the people in my school…and idk, maybe i’m just saying this because i’m bitter about the whole relationship thing, i just don’t understand the point of them, i mean some of the couples are cute as fuck, don’t get me wrong…but ugh, idk.

I click through the profiles, the smiling faces.

I have a relationship with every single one of you. 

We meet, we connect, we fuck, we fight. 

We break up and never see each other again.

Sometimes, I’m a man. Sometimes I’m a woman.

Sometimes you let me be both at the same time.

Clicking away the faces, all hoping, searching.

We’re all lonely, so why don’t we just pick one and go?

It’s not that easy.

I tried this once and escaped with a piece of myself marred. Twisted forever, like the proteins that eventually eat away at a brain with Mad Cow Disease.

Clicking, clicking, the best versions of ourselves, at least we hope.

A horrible flea market of faces. Not that the merchandise isn’t attractive.

The venue is stilted. Shallow. Scary.

I can’t know you if I can’t look in your eyes. 

But I won’t meet you. I’m afraid of what you’ll see.

And so I dream up the relationships, satisfied with the notion that they will leave me unsatisfied if I went for it.

I have too many holes in my brain, now. I’m no good to anybody, besides.

Clicking, clicking away. I know you click right past me.