There is a knot in my stomach, it’s blocked a lot of shit and it’s making me constipated. No amount of water I drink is helping, no amount of jazz music is soothing, no amount of yoghurt is helping, and now I’m running out of ideas.
My mother’s cousin told her that her neighbour’s aunt’s daughter in law’s father’s employee’s Father in law once suffered from constipation. It lasted almost a week, and he was given a glass of really hot water. Within minutes the hot water through his body and he shat a Weeks worth in his pants.
So I sat on the ceramic throne with a glass of hot water that burned my tongue, and had no effect on my bowel movement.
Now the most ridiculous things and theories came about my inability to shit. Some said I secretly shat late in the night or when I was out, and claimed this for my parents attention. Others said I was playing the fool for no reason and two strikes to the buttocks is the remedy. I was disappointed with a lack of alien theories but my great aunt lived up to my expectations. She suggested black magic, Voodoo, possession, and vegetarianism were probably the reasons for my ailment in an ascending order of probability.
My girlfriend didn’t want to have sex because she was worried to catch it, or that I might shit during.
“Where do I find these people?”
My nosy neighbours sent spicy, exotic, and tasty soups, and my body just seemed to puke it all out, making the wrong end leak.
I drank a lot of water, hoping it helps.

Movies and ranting

Everytime I’m having a bad day, week or whatever, I just binge on food and movies or TV shows. The Perks of Being a Wallflower is my favourite movie to watch.
The song “Sing me to Sleep” by the Smiths, is Charlie’s (Logan Lerman) favourite song. The movie is a good distraction, very absorbing and easy to lose myself in, I think.
It’s a bloody depressing book and movie and I love it. They seem to help me feel better – movies – and then it’s a better world, till I feel shitty again.
Charlie is stoned, and tells Sam about his bestfriend shooting himself and runs into Brad and Patrick making out. I want to be as baked as Charlie and drink a milkshake. I’m craving a milkshake; pista milkshake and a cheese grill sandwich. I love sipping the milkshake between each bit of the cheese grill and it tastes like happiness. One of those things I do to feel better; like going to the swing at a park close by or eating an icecream sundae at midnight.
I also have a bunch of things to do when in a bad or sad mood; lock myself in my room with TV shows or movies, eat a lot of junk food or stop being social. It’s easy, especially when numbness is what the body and soul feels like.
When I reached out there was help; I felt better then and I got addicted and dependent on that. I slipped from one hole to fall into another…
There is so much love out there; I feel so fucked up and just want to stop feeling that way but this love should teach me to love myself, which I don’t seem to be able to learn. When I tap into  this love, I get addicted; it makes me crave for it so much that I forget everything else.
I feel shut down, numb. No emotions and feelings seem to bother me, I just seem to crave attention and it’s pissing off that I don’t know how to control it or change that about me. I don’t even know what to do or feel and where I’m going with this life.
Melodrama comes back and Charlie is high on LSD, realises his aunt touched him inappropriately. Shitty, but he decides to not think about it and it gets worse.
Wow, I make it sound like such a shitty movie; I need to be shot.
Like movies do, it ends in a better place I guess. Bull shit.