Bulletproof (can this even be a title?)

My math exam is tomorrow, and the first bout of tears and panic has already occurred.

It’s a funny thing how things so little can affect one so much. I couldn’t drink my tea or eat my dinner – all because I went into a raving panic attack stemming from the lack of warm water at my house.

Sounds pathetic, right?

I know it does. Let me assure you that it feels even more pathetic to be the one experiencing it. It’s like a feeling of extreme stupidity and sadness in one go.

Today, though, I got lucky. I had a friend send me some beautiful help involving some visualisation and Emma Watson and beaches and Paris. I can’t really explain how it feels to have someone do their best to help you while they know that they don’t know exactly how you’re feeling. It’s so lovely, like they have complete comprehension without actually having it?

I’m feeling the feels, friends.

I’m going to do revision now, and while I may fail my math exam, I know that I’ll still have this to come back to. It ‘s just the future, bruh. In the words of my heroes:

The future is bulletproof, the aftermath is secondary. It’s time to do it now and do it loud: Killjoys, make some noise!

That’s all I’ve got today. I think.
Love & Gratitude,
Scoot X

July 20th 2014

Please put up with this and I’m sorry if it disappoints you.


Listening to: Little Black Submarines by The Black Keys

What has been happening in my life? Well, quite frankly, I don’t know if that’s any of your business, but I want to tell you anyway. I don’t know if you want to know, but again, I want to tell you. Most probably because I don’t know who you are, and I think that is where my comfort lies.

Listening to: Home by Edward Sharpe And The Magnetic Zeros

I’m starting at my new school tomorrow. Well, my new old new school. To summarise, I was there in eighth grade and left after that year, then moved to Northcliff and stayed there from ninth through to tonight, I guess. Now, the second half of my junior year and my senior year will be spent in the same place I started high school. I guess I’ll have come full circle, going around in a cycle. I’m really quite scared, though.

Listening to: Awake My Soul by Mumford and Sons

I have quite bad anxiety, though That was phrased quite badly. I think before I do some explaining, I should let you know that I’m just writing because I don’t want to get bad again, because that really screws things up. I’m going to swear now. Close your eyes if you’re sensitive. Fuck. Okay, you can open them now.

“In these bodies we will live, and in these bodies we will die, and where you invest your love is where you invest your life.”

Listening to: Thistle & Weeds by Mumford and Sons

Basically, No, no, let me assure you that this is not basic, and not much is, and I really think that that word is used far too loosely. I have spent a lot of time crying because I forget how to talk to people and nobody expects me to forget because I am always talking to people. It’s not a self pity cry, though. It’s really a desperate cry because when I forget to do things that I shouldn’t forget, I also forget how to breathe and how to calm down, and how to reach for my calming tabletty things. I usually climb onto my bed and shove myself into the corner of wall and wall, and hold my knees to my chest and cry. When someone knocks, or barges into my room, I never let them see me.

Listening to: I Gave You All by Mumford and Sons

I don’t think anyone knows how bad I can get, but I also don’t know if it’s their business. I’ve been telling everybody lately that everything will be okay and I don’t know if I believe what I’m saying. I’m trying to, very hard. But it’s so difficult, and I don’t know if it should be and I don’t know what should be or if I’m giving myself more credit than I’m worth or if I just need a nap and then everything will be fine and I won’t think like this anymore.

“If only I had an enemy bigger than my apathy, I could have won.”

Listening to: Roll Away Your Stone by Mumford and Sons

I think that maybe if I keep saying it, I will believe it one day. I used to think that I would never believe anything ever again. That was when I was quite bad, but not at my worst. My worst was bad, and it’s not pleasant to remember or forget. Does that make sense?

Listening to: Winter Winds by Mumford and Sons

“Let the memories be good for those who stay.”

I couldn’t wish anything more for all the beautiful people who I have left behind over the years,and I hope at least that some memories involving me were good, and that they are okay, and that the person remembering cherishes them enough to want to relive them, but at the same time, not relive them without me. That sounded very selfish in my head.

Listening to: Roll Away Your Stone by Mumford and Sons

I almost cried, because I just wrote some of the best writing I think I’ve ever done, and then my internet refreshed and only left a tiny piece of my work. Damn you new WordPress editor. I feel like my heart has been ripped from my chest and not even looking at the ceiling is helping. I can’t even remember what I wrote to rewrite it, because now it feels like lies. I’m going to swear again. Look away and cover your imaginary/real life kid’s eyes. FUCK. Okay, all’s good now.

Listening to: Lost Kid by The Apache Relay

It was something to do about being okay, and the existence of love. I’ll write about it again on another day.

Listening to: Cornerstone by The Apache Relay

Listening to: Head Full Of Doubt/Road Full of Promise by The Apache Relay


We’ll all be okay.

This I believe.

Listening to: Could It Be Another Change by The Samples

-Scoot xxx



I’ve always secretly had difficulty with birthdays. The major start was when I turned ten and I was in fifth grade, and the whole double digits thing terrified the crap out of me, and I would cry every night about how scared I was that another day was gone and in my entire decade of existence, I’d done nothing worthwhile.

I told everyone how excited I was, and my parents even let me have a party. And from the outside looking in, all was good.

For me, birthdays kind of signify the end. They make me realise how truly insignificant I am. It’s like a, “sixteen years and you’ve still done nothing?” kind of air. Also, I get really scared about time. Another day gone. Another day that I’ll never get to do over. Another day that’s totally gone unless I remember it. Ha, no pressure, right? Another day comes, and suddenly I’m dying faster than I was yesterday and I’m the youngest that I’ll ever be. It’s not the aging, it’s just the time, and the lack of control over it, I guess.

What else? The Facebook messages. I sometimes call myself the queen of Facebook because of how often I’m seen on there and how I take up most of everybody’s newsfeed, but the birthday posts kind of overwhelm me. Suddenly, all 780 – no, 781 people know I exist,and even remembered my birthday, or at least cared enough to look up into the corner of their screens to be reminded.

I’ve been suffering a major existential crisis lately, and I hope it dissolves once the birthday hush-hush comes down.

It’s July fourth. 16 years ago at 1;31AM in Prince George’s County in the East Coast state of Maryland, USA, I joined this massive dysfunctional, surviving population. My birthday last year was fun. I went out with three of my guy friends, and it was one of their birthdays too, so the attention really wasn’t on me. We watched Man Of Steel and laughed at shop windows until it was almost midnight. It was like being a proper teenager for once. Fun.

Happy birthday, Jordan Pascoe, and happy Independence Day to all the Americans reading! Happy Lesotho family day to anyone observing, happy Friday to every human being, happy unbirthday to you if your birthday isn’t today, and congratulations on living this far – I didn’t even think I would.

Fifteen was difficult. Perhaps sixteen would be better, perhaps worse. I’ll keep you updated, I promise.


My name is Shalom and I am terrified.

I’m scared of everything, of myself, of people, of windows, of mirrors, of rooms, of butterflies, of time.

Just scared.


I have severe panic and anxiety attacks that sometimes last for more than three hours.

I can’t do anything because I forget how to breathe. I forget how to function.


I can’t sleep and it’s 01:14 AM here is South Africa.

I have two exams tomorrow and my school career is in limbo.


I’m terrified, and I keep crying, and I don’t like it.

I keep doing it, and I can’t talk to anyone because sometimes just a person’s mouth moving can send me right into a state of severe panic.


I’m terrified.

-Scoot xx