‘i’m never buying an exercise guide again’, or, ‘wasting money while manic’

i have a lot of things to do at the moment. apart from beating this upper respiratory tract infection & sinuitis, almost all of them are school related. i’m tired of school, friends. we are eight weeks in and i am eight weeks more homesick-ish. it’s a different kind of homesick. anyway. i am a bit of a spender when i’m manic, and it hurts me and i wanna talk about it! here we are!

when i’m manic, i feel like i can do anything. i can save the world, write songs, create series, become anyone – i can do anything. this being said, i also believe that i can buy anything. fellas. i cannot buy anything.

ya girl broke.

i have a nasty habit of buying in sixes while manic; see strawberry whirls (2013) menstrual cups (2016), tide detergent (2017), books?? (present). i’m gonna be telling y’all about the books.

i’m not sure why i started it, and i’m not even certain i remember what the first book was. [edit: i do! it was neil hillborn’s our numbered days.] anyway, i bought a book for a regular book price and didn’t think it was a dangerous purchase because it’s a book! i just wanted a book! (it’s never just a book, silly shalom.)

the spiral began softly: poetry book (acceptable), john green’s latest offering turtles all the way down (i mean, kinda okay, i’d been waiting for it for a while and it was on sale!), rae earl’s it’s all in your head: getting your sh*t together (which is both okay and not okay. mostly not because how did i get there? how did i get to the point of ordering it? i don’t know. also, i ordered it from ireland. ireland? why do i let this happen?)

and then. and then.

i bought an exercise guide for a stupid amount of money. stupid. truly, fuck instagram fitness and fuck my brain for doing me in like this. when i say stupid, i mean money i will need for a winter coat stupid. i mean “save for essentials” stupid. i’d never felt the urge to buy this stupid glorified ‘strictly no refunds’ pdf for twice the price of a normal book ever. and yet, here we are. here i am, crying about it night after night because i did.

friends, i wish i could say it stopped there, but i am too untrue of a person to become even more so by lying. it didn’t stop. i bought jonny sun’s everyone’s an aliebn when you’re an aliebn too and then ordered anOthER (excuse this, but i am offended at how ridiculous i’ve been) book by an irish author because i saw “eating disorder” and “sale” in the same sentence. (it was on sale, and book depository makes shipping free, but it’s still unacceptable.)

would someone please put an end to this?

if i’m being honest, i spend most of my time while manic begging my brain to stop. i’m tired of spending money i don’t have on stupid things in stupid patterns because boop! it be like that. i really hate it.

i really want this to be over. i will never forgive myself for buying that guide so help me God.  anyone wanna transfer their powers of moderation to me? i haven’t had any. ever. really, i went through a childhood journal of mine a few months ago and realised that i’ve been doing this shit since i was 12, albeit with less important things. i.e. not money. that i  n e e d.

i have too many books. i don’t have the time to read them all. at least i’ve hit six now, i guess. guess i’ll just freeze!

love and light,
shalom xo

[It’s not gonna be] May

It wasn’t.

In this post, I talked about how shit 2016 had been up until then. I hoped & wondered whether May would bring better things – really, whether I would just get my shit together.

This post is a report back. A failed mission report.mission

 

We begin with a vision board in the middle of the month. I am already broke, and the remaining R400 in my account is money I owe to people. I fight with people on the internet, and annoy everyone who is friends with me on facebook by doing what I’m supposed to do on twitter, as I’ve been told.giphy

The blow-by-blow accounts of my days get semi ridiculous because I become aware of how pathetic I sound. I meet a girl from my high school on campus, and she greets me with “I thought you dropped out because you’re always crying.”. Nice. Lemme tell you something, fellas: If a person dropped out every time I cried for more than an hour there is NO WAY universities would be a thing. Honestly. They’d give up. I’d rob them of their business and they wouldn’t even see it coming.

I receive an email from a follower in Germany, and am asked where I get the inspiration to write the characters in the stories that I tell on my blog. I ask, confused, which stories? I am told, “all of them but mostly the ones with the bad luck and epic fails”. Ah. I see. My dear friend is unaware of the unfortunate non-fiction nature of my mishaps that I recount on here. I give them the news that despite the events seeming like jokes, I am the joke, and the events are true. The reply reads, “Oh man that is tough but still funny! Viel Glück!”. It’s my favourite email I’ve received so far.

On the topic of emails: my phone stops receiving my school emails. I log in at my computer and see that I have missed five announcements concerning my philosophy exam. Excefuckinglento. I’m too stressed to physically act upon my stress for the upcoming exam. I decide I don’t need to go to school for almost a week because I don’t have to, and then that I’ve earned five days off from studying.

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Two days before my exam, I become painfully aware that I was not deserving of those off-days.

I fight with a boy because he believes that I should put his preference of me, and women in general, wearing fancy bras, over my argument that I don’t like wearing a bra some days (because I can’t breathe HELLO IT’S A CAGE A BOOB AND RIB CAGE CAGE) and I don’t have to. I almost yell. I don’t because he’s stupid, and I’m tired.

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Same, Simon. It’s a no from me, too.

I see a man get hit by a car on my way to a study session with my #1 pal. I stop and help him, call his girlfriend (thanks Robyn), and go to the police station with them to fill a form. They drive me to the police station, because I am helping them. I expect them to drive me back to where they found me, but they don’t. I am left at a police station half an hour’s walk from where I was going. I arrive at my friend’s house, and we go for brunch. We eat cheaply because we are broke. The value for money? A+.

My default state has quickly become “painfully aware”. I write the philosophy exam, and by some force of nature or witchcraft, I do not embarrass myself by falling on the way to my seat or crying loudly during the exam (like I did during the test at the beginning of the month.). I go to dinner to say goodbye to a close friend who is moving away. I am broke. I end up at a sushi restaurant with her friends who have platinum credit cards, and I am dying inside – but not in a cute way like Eliza Schuyler. DYING. I pay with my student debit card (remaining balance can buy me two lollipops), loose change (read: all the cash in my wallet) and the last shred of dignity I have.

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I have just gotten home. I have cried my makeup off, and then actually took my make-up off (look at me!). I have three exams left, one of which I am almost certain that I will need divine intervention to scrape a pass. I am very tired.

It is the end of May, and I have not done the things. June can kiss my ass. I’m here for eating sandwiches and pretending not to witness the crumbling things around me. 2016 has been a flaming bag of dicks so far. I’m not particularly fond of those.

love & light,
shalom x

Smooth Criminals & Straight Boys

Ah, yes. Shalom was about to ruin her schedule, during the first week of her schedule. Excellent.

Greetings! I have survived orientation week and not one, but two  ridiculous college parties. I love water, and also green juices the morning after. I do not love getting my things stolen.

At yesterday night’s Fresher’s Party -which was CRAZY GOOD until the incident -I had 8k worth of stuff stolen from me. My new phone, my headphones, and my makeup bag (????) were all taken from my bag, which was on my person and zipped closed, by some slick af thieves. Kinda like in that movie, Focus, when they pickpocket the people at that street market without anyone knowing. No? It’s this first scene. Watch this.

Yeah. Exactly like that.

In any case,  I’m without phone and without my people avoiding headphones. My phone has since been blacklisted and my Uber account disabled (see mom? I told you that we could). I’m very tired, and all round very sad.

I have also since lost all of my pictures of the parties. While the strain in my legs will remind me of the insane amount of dancing that occurred, I’ve got zero pictures of me & the people I love, having a great time.

Also, for the record: STRAIGHT BOYS GET OUT.

  • You have no permission to fetishize queer girls at all
  • You have no permission to touch queer girls at all
  • Queer girls owe you nothing
  • Do not ask queer girls with other girls if they are interested in you
  • THEY ARE NOT
  • Leave them alone
  • Stop trying to convert (??????!!!??!) queer girls
  • Seriously??
  • Screw you
  • You know who you are

Ah. Now that that’s all been said, I’m almost ready to start being extremely sad about starting the first week of lectures without headphones. Or a cellphone. I’m down in every phone department. And also in the liquid eyeliner and brow kit department.

Things are very gross right now. I’m at the mercy of two Canadian schools in terms of scholarships, I’m really worried about losing my relationships because of LIFE, I’m being very ill-disciplined when it comes to taking my meds, and I’m scared to start my English course. Ugh.

Also, tonight was Lennox’s birthday party & I couldn’t go re: rain, INTENSE SAD, car troubles, 8000 bucks more broke…

All round, it’s been shit. But I’ve been listening to Years Years Bears by Dodie Clark and Tom Rosenthal a lot & still don’t get it 100%, but now that my phone and my DELUXE COPY OF BADLANDS is gone, I’m finding myself with more time to listen to some of my youtube faves again.

be a better human if you can.

love and light,
shalom

featured image from flickr here.