God fucking damnit. What is wrong with me. ;-;

Επίσης ο τίτλος του ιστότοπου είναι εκνευριστικά προφητικός.

Looking back, it all went to shit two years ago, way before you even left.
It all went to shit the moment you told me you would go.
It all went to shit when I broke down in tears in front of you.

When the happy, relaxed - relaxing even - guy that you used to worship and dream about, think about, decided to just give up and die. I may not be that unhappy anymore, but there's not a single part of me that doesn't think that we could have done so much more if you had stayed. Nothing would've gone wrong. I would fix you. I would give it my best shot to fix you. If you had waited for me, I'd go with you. Eventually. Where did the love go? Where's the happiness? Where's the part of you that needed me so much it hurts? Why do I need you so much still? Where did I go wrong? What did I do to let all this go to shit?



How did I go from being your god to being your dog?



I read your posts every now and then. The old ones. I am trying to remember who you were, maybe it'd give me hints about who I was. Maybe I'm holding onto the past way too much. Maybe I'm afraid to do anything because I'm afraid I'll break again. Or that I'll break you. I don't want to break you. All I want is to travel back to 2010 and meet you all over again from scratch. All I want is to be born again and have all the pain and regret ripped out of me and still have my pleasant memories of you so I can meet you and feel like I felt back then. It won't ever happen. Part of me fears that I'll never see you again. I might actually never see you again. I can't quite pinpoint where I went wrong. I pushed too hard. I got pushy. I do that. I choke the people I love because I'm afraid they'll leave me. I used to have a way with words, but now I have shit. I used to be able to write properly, but now I write like shit. I used to have an organised mind for the little while when you were sleeping next to me and I would wake up to see your face, but now that's all gone.



I am tired and alone and nothing will bring you back. Nothing will bring us back. I need to write down my fears because that's the only way they'll die. I need to write down my fears because that's really the only way I can face them right now without breaking anything.


And I'm glad that I can do it here, because you won't ever see it and I won't make you unhappy ever again. You loved me before you even had me. Now I can't imagine feeling anything like that for anybody else. I don't want to. You were the chosen one. You still are. You always will be.You're an angel. You're a saint. You're Mother Teresa. You're Elvis. You're god.


And you most definitely met me at a really weird part of my life.

Καφές

Γαμάει. It fornicates. It batters. Πιείτε καφέ. Σοβαρά. Seriously.

Insomnia

 Που λέτε, η αϋπνία είναι ένα από τα χειρότερα πράγματα στο σύμπαν που δημιούργησε ο πανάγαθος Arceus. Άλλο ένα είναι οι πασοκοδαπίτες που φωνάζουν πρωινιάτικα συνθήματα ο ένας στον άλλο κάθε πρωί ενώ προσπαθώ να κοιμηθώ με την ησυχία μου στο προαύλιο.


 I was once treading upon a road - 'twas grassy as the hair of a wooden elf - when I realised; I seem to be frequently having conversations with myself. For those who find that hard to grasp, think of it as such: a guy is walking down the street, headphones garnishing his semi-balding patchy-raven haired head, loud noises coming out of the headphones while at the same time he moves his lips, apparently to the lyrics of whatever diabolical song he is listening to.




 Μακάρι να ήταν εδώ οι γονείς τους να τους καμαρώσουν. Το τραγικό είναι πως μερικοί όντως θα καμαρώνουν. Το τραγικότερο, άλλοι θα παίζουν παλαμάκια. Παλαμάκια καθός οι νέες γενιές μαθαίνουν να ψηφίζουν ελεύθερα αυτούς που τους στερούν το μέλλον τους. Παιδεία γιοκ, δουλειά γιοκ, λεφτά γιοκ, φαΐ γιοκ, ντέρπιτι χερπ ντερπ και κόπρανα στα στόματα των ρουσφετοτέτοιων.


 As I ventured deeper and deeper into the forest, the one that was further ahead of the grassy road I was previously treading upon, a green-skinned hulking humanoid jumped in front of me. And I say hulking because that gentleman was just like the Hulk(Marvel Comics TM), other than the fact that he had small tusks protruding from his mouth. He uttered something in a language I did not understand while making strange gestures at me. I was stunned for a second. Not knowing what else to do, I decided to approach him with my hand straightened, ready to shake his hand. 
 Boy, was that a bad idea.
 Right after I approached within three metres from where he was standing, his eyes blazed fiery red. His hands started to tremble. I saw him fetch a crude weapon from behind his back. It looks as if he had fashioned it from some unknown metal that formed a strange curved blade which he wedged into a big thigh bone. Did I say big? Excuse me, I mean to say HUGE. Gargantuan! That bone was as long as he was tall - which at around 2m is quite the sight - and had two small portions of it carved thinner in the middle, probably as a way to get a better grip on the weapon.




 Μερικές φορές κατανοώ τους school shooters. Δεν αναφέρομαι στους Νορβηγούς μπλακμεταλάδες έφηβους της δεκαετίας του 90' που έκαιγαν εκκλησίες και έλεγαν με νεύρα πως μια μέρα θα σκοτώσουν όλους τους συμμαθητές τους που τους κρίνουν για τα γούστα τους στην μουσική. Ούτε στους μανιακούς φανατισμένους χριστιανοτέτοιους(πάλι Νορβηγούς) που θερίζουν με αυτόματα μαθητές. Βασικά δεν ξέρω, ούτε ο Cho Seung-Hui με ενθουσιάζει ιδιαίτερα. Ούτε ο Φινλανδός από το Jokela πως-το-λενε Shooting.

Μα κάτσε, τι κατανοώ τότε, γουατ

Τώρα που το σκέφτομαι, απλά θέλω να σκάσουν και να σοβαρευτούν τα κομματόσκυλα και να σταματήσουν να πάνε ενάντια στα δικά τους συμφέροντα(και στα συμφέροντα του λαού), school shooters are scumbags.


 Poor guy rushed at me with everything he got. As I carefully planted my freezing trap right beneath his feet, I carefully swept further away from him and took out my crossbow. I delivered a swift strike to his forehead.
 As I walked happily with my newly claimed mystery weapon in hand, I thought to myself that maybe I should have let him hit me at least once so that his death would at least be honourable. Poor guy.