- You have no idea how much pain inspires my writing and film making. Honestly, it’s a huge inspiration and creative motivator.
- I’m not great with the ladies, and not because I keep hold of Lottie… Let me explain.
For some reason, women here (specifically Bristol) think I’m, well, inadequate They think I’m stupid, ugly, boring,’too nerdy’ [IS THERE SUCH A THING!?!?], they don’t like creative types, they like guys with muscles, style or charisma, none of which I seem to have.
They want musicians, not film makers, they don’t seem to consider writing a ‘real talent’.
Now the thing with Lottie Moran, she didn’t care what I wanted to do, as long as it’s what I wanted to do. She didn’t care if I was ugly, actually, she’s the only girl [outside of tumblr] who’s ever FACE TO FACE called me gorgeous. She thought I was talented and thought I could be amazing, and even back in the day when all I wore were t-shirts and jeans, she didn’t care what I wore, just that I was me.
She loved me for me and not what I did or what I was going to be. And then I was an idiot, who failed to see that and I pushed and pushed and pushed until they kinda guys I thought she really wanted to be with, the pretty boys, the musicians the style icons, the sexy muscular ‘lads’… Well, she’s with them now, she’s probably with them…
I’m waking up at 10 am, drinking a glass of wine and smoking in bed.
Believe it or not but I never smoked when I was with Lottie, I drank HALF as much as I do, not even that 1/4 as much, I didn’t touch drugs, now a night isn’t complete without it, I was healthy, I ate at proper times every day instead of finally deciding to have my lunch at 1am. My skin wasn’t rough and covered in cuts and scars, I could sleep in silence without have the sound of youtube clips playing on repeat to block out my thoughts.
I never used to cry when I walked down the street and saw a pretty girl that I could never have. I never went home and stayed in my room 20 hours straight. I never left myself go unwashed for days. I never hated myself as much as I do now. I never thought about crossing a busy road when the traffic hasn’t stopped. I never thought about taking 1 too many paracetamol when I occasionally take them with a glass of wine. I never took paracetamol with glassed of wine. I never cut myself across my chest. I never wanted to die.
I just wanted to be with her.
I miss you so much Lottie…
I hang on to memories of her because for two years, yes, two years, I’ve tried to get rid of them. Over and over. I almost did when I met someone I thought I was in love with, but when I took a step back, I saw Lottie’s face and realised, I was just looking for someone to love OTHER than Lottie… Projecting my unresolved feelings onto someone else. Looking for closure with someone else… It’s a good thing that didn’t work out. The last thing I want is to be in a relationship and a year on think “I still Love Lott.”
I was, when I was with Lottie, ‘normal’. Now, I’m waking up at 10am, with a glass of wine and a cigarette in bed.
If it’s not thoughts about two girls that are too good for me, who will never see me as attractive or even of any use to them it thinking about any girl and ho they believe this. I’m ugly, pathetic, disgusting, mentally fucked up, all to the point where no one want to bother to acknowledge I exist.
And if it’s not that troubling me, it’s Lottie. How could she use me for 3 years? How could she lie to me for so long and tell me she loved me when it was a lie? How could she make me believe that someone could love me? Why Lottie?
And this is why I drink.
I don’t drink to have fun. I don’t drink because society tells me to. I don’t drink to forget. I drink because I have nothing left to do with life.
It doesn’t matter what your problems are. Doesn’t matter if no one loves you, doesn’t matter if no you finds you attractive. Doesn’t matter if you’re getting nowhere in life.
Because you got booze and MUSIC! The White Stripes and Whiskey is waiting for me at home. Hell yeah!
Is there a market for an odd to ugly looking mixed race Scottish chain smoking functioning alcoholic nerd?
I hope there is.
I hope she’s got dat ass.
So, I’ve been perpetually tipsy if not drunk since then.
In honour of that, and because I’m just drinking on my own [as usual] and I’ve hidden my ex’s phone number from myself:
- If you like dubstep I’m going to kill you.
- I fucking love you mum!
- SHUT UP! This song is all about me!
- Ex girlfriend. I fucking hate you. Why did you leave me!?!?1
- Man, what if we just fucking packed our bags, took out all our cash and went to AMERICA. Let’s do that man. Just you and me man, let’s go to America!
- I fuckin’ love you man.
- Lottie, I mean ex girlfriend, I mean Bunni. I didn’t mean it. I love you, I really do. I wish you were here.
- Fucking Conservatives man. The man is fucking us in the corn hole.
- I’m superman!
- I’m BATMAN *cough hack cough* HOW DOES CHRISTIAN BALE TALK LIKE THAT!?!?!
- Hey Lottie? Sorry about those last message.
- Ugh I feel sick man.
- Fuck you man. I love her!
- I’m sorry man. I love you.
- AMANDA SEYFRIED IS FUCKING AWESOME.
- I would marry Amanda SO HARD!
- *clicks on xbox* Watch this skill guys *dies repeatedly* AAAAH FUCK YOU ARMOUR LOCK FAGGOT! FUCK LAG! FUCKING ASS HOLE. HEY FUCK YOU KID!
[Roll on 1 p.m.]
- Hey Lottie, It’s me. Sorry about those texts last night. I was drunk and I just… I just miss you. I’m sorry.
You know that sounds like a good night… Just me, a bottle of whiskey and video games though…
I do miss Lottie though…
Yeah, all this is motivated by unrequited love, if you think this is an excuse to constantly tell me how to live my life by your standards FUCK OFF. If I don’t know you personally you got no fucking right and even if you do you’re pushing your luck.
LRAVE ME ALONE. YOY DON’T KNOW ME. MY SUICIDE WON’T HINDER YOU FRIM SLERPING AT NIGHT. LEAVE. ME. ALONE
I’M SO FUCKING. ANGRY!!!!!!!!!
People constantly tell me drink isn’t the way but I’m so far down that path that if I don’t have a drink in 12 hours I start to sweat and shake and can’t get the image of Lottie with someone else out of my mind, which makes me vomit [which is fun when you’re at work] so drinking [not so much I get drunk] quiets the voices in my head.
God Lottie fucked me up so much…
I’m fine, just need some more ‘time off’… She really broke me, you might not hear anything till I get back from vacationing in Edinburgh. Anyway, a technician is coming round my house today to fix my broken land line and as soon as he’s gone I’m off to by a bottle of whiskey and some cigarettes.
I know some of you said stay off the drink, but honestly I can’t. I go a day without a drink I feel like I’m being squashed by my thoughts of Lottie. A thousand voices in my head screaming her name, telling me what she’s doing, who she’s with, what disgusting things she’s doing with other people just to get back at me, just so she can hurt me… I keep imagining her with someone else, laughing at me, like she wanted me to be like this, hurting myself, on heavy anti depressants, falling apart at the mere mention of Liverpool or Devizes… Lottie Moran fucking broke me, I didn’t think a girl so sweet would be capable of something so malicious, so evil.
Alas, she did what she did, knowing full well what the consequences were for me. She gets to live her ‘high life’ doing what she wants, when she wants, no care in the world for the broken she left behind; I will suffer, taking pills every morning just so I have any will to get out of bed, and when I do my body shakes violently without a steady whiskey to calm it down, otherwise the fear of this bleak future hits me in the face like a two ton train going 100 mph.
I’m so fucking broken. So I need some time off, apart from the occasional post I won’t be here and when I come back from ‘reclaiming Edinburgh’ from the memories of when I went there with Lottie, I may either get this blog back to NERD CORE standards with a barrage of videogame/ Star Wars posts and reblogs in an attempt to ignore what Lottie has done to me or delete this blog altogether.
Either way I’m still broken, very much alone, and very much in need of a drink. The technician has been and gone, I’m going to get a shower and get some whiskey.
See you all soon…
[Lottie, I’m a monster because of you. You chipped away at my spirit until there was nothing left except an empty alcoholic with scars and fear. I wake up with fear every morning. May I ask, do you hate me? Did you mean to do this? Are you happy I’m this monster? Email me please. These are questions I couldn’t ask you last week but i can ask you now, so please answer them…]
I can’t sleep. Don’t want to. Dream of her far too much these days.
I miss drinking, cause I miss her, I miss her cause I ain’t drinking, I ain’t drinking cause I miss her.
What a vicious cycle my life has become… At least I still smoke, I’m going out for a cigarette.