˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖lilyworld SECRET diary ˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

welcome to my little diary... just a place for all my silly ramblings...TALKYTOWN

12/04/25
i smell like seawater, and there's a faint taste of chocolate mice lingering in my mouth. i love chocolate mice. thinking about my capacity for violence; what i could do when pushed far enough, or if i'd even need to be pushed very far at all. at the risk of sounding edgy, or tryhard, i am not sure it would take much at all for me to do something terrible. last monday, i picked up a pencil, looked for a sharpener to make it into a sharp enough point, but couldn't find one. i was disappointed, because i'd envisioned myself stabbing it into the flesh of my hand- i have a scar from this- feeling the blood drip down through my fingers. if someone annoyed me that badly, i might have stuck the pencil in their face; i am glad i didn't. i don't think i want to hurt anyone, not really. but i thought about stabbing someone in my life but i cannot remember who. a name is coming to mind, though i don't think it was them. violence sometimes scares me, and i can't bear to think about it, but then sometimes i am utterly enthralled by it. what changes? a few days ago, i watched gore for the first time in a few years- i think i cried a little, but i cannot remember now. how could i be so nonchalent about it whilst i was twelve? such a natural, historic instinct becomes twisted and warped, into something sinsister and evil. i wish i could meet every one of my ancestors.

every time i pick up my phone the time is an angel number, or the time is the same but reversed. 12:21. every number means something to me. everything does. i looked at the clouds and wept for god. on thursday night, i called with gustav for the first time in *ages*. sometimes i'd sit there for a while, not saying anything; content in silence. i wasn't sad (maybe a little melancholy, for a while), just didn't have anything to say. anyway. he told me that i had a really philosphical character- he said he never thinks about the things i do. he told me he lived for god, i felt rather crestfallen - i want to live for god too. i want people to be able to see that. i'm philosphical in the sense that i consider everything in it's relation to god, to the spiritual, to the divine. but. it doesn't matter if other people see that, not at all, actually- all that matters is if *god* can see it.

"Ye shall make you no idols nor graven image, neither rear you up a standing image, neither shall ye set up any image of stone in your land, to bow down unto it: for I am the LORD your God." Leviticus 26:1 KJV

i miss everyone, in some way or another. i carry them around with me, inside my heart, or my lungs- you are the air that i breathe. even the people who've caused me to feel as if i had died and was now in hell, i miss them sometimes. the way they turned me on, or how they'd make me laugh, or the conversations i would have with them. i should ask everyone who enters my life, however briefly, to give me a souvenir of them- a lock of hair, a baby tooth, a letter, anything- so i can hold onto them, in some way, once they've gone. i'll give everyone a souvenir, if they so wish. i'll write you a hundred letters and cut off my hair and pull out my teeth for you. i will grieve you, even if we simply knew each other's name and nothing else. when everything with ███ happened, and we no longer talked, i remember i was sick with grief for the longest time; i couldn't sleep anymore, i could barely eat, there was an aching in my body so deep i couldn't identify where it was coming from- i lay on the floor so often then. i couldn't really speak- i just lay there, face on the carpet, making strange, indescripable noises that attempted to convey the despair i was feeling. eventually it got easier. but i'll never forget anyone.

LILYWORLD- barely exists, just a name i gave for my internet presence, but somehow i feel connected to it on a deep spirtual level; it feels like a tangible philosphy, even if just smething very loosely coded, a couple of .html files & something made out of a need to be seen, is all that it is. things will transform into something else; whilst remaining the same, everything is perpetually changing, and so is LILYWORLD.

13/04/25
reading anti-oedipus by delueze. i don't admire many people- one should only admire god- but he is a truly phenomenal (had to look up the spelling) philosopher and writer. i've read the works of many, and taken as much as i could from them, but i'd say delueze is one of few who i've read and felt a sort of resonation with. i'm not sure why. but then again i never search for a philosophy, because i find that to an extremely depressing experience; i don't know how to give advice on how to go abut living life, but the answers may not be in neitschze, or jung, or anyone. i think if you just trust, if you remain hopeful to the point of retardation, you'll find something that'll make sense, something that'll explain everything- the rest shall follow. there's a part of the preface in anti-oedipus that feels like what i'm trying to say here, in some way or another;

It would be a mistake to read Anti-Oedipus as the new theoretical reference (you know, that much-heralded theory that finally encompasses everything, that finally totalizes and reassures, the one we are told we "need so badly" in our age of dispersion and specialization where "hope" is lacking). One must not look for a "philosophy" amid the extraordinary profusion of new notions and surprise concepts: Anti-Oedipus is not a flashy Hegel.

or am i simply an imbecile? perhaps! but it's silly to care.

14/04/25
cried for the first time in a while today, i always forget how much i hate crying. and it gives me SUCH A HEADACHE, it's really awful. nothing is as it should be. i fear there is something deeply wrong with me, but i cannot identify what. i used to think i had BPD, from around the ages of 14-17.5, but now i realise that i don't, thankfully. but it's definitely something related to trauma, since i never seem to be able to escape any of it- not for a single day. i get so angry and resentful towards people for slight misdeeds against me, and it's not a normal type of anger, it's a painful, violent rage that i can feel in my body, it burns and i just want to say such awful things, and be so violent. it's crazy to me that i've survived this long without doing something really, truly, awful - obviously i've been kicked out of school at 16 for violent conduct, but, that was tame, in a way. i don't really want to hurt anyone, i'm just scared of being hurt, of being left or betryaed. there's been stuff happen in my life that i've never told anyone, not even my parents, or friends, or a therapist- i remember my mum asking "why are you so angry all the time?" and i didn't know how to say it. i couldn't, i still can't, not really. i called gustav again today, he made me cry, and i had all this stuff i wanted to say to him, but i just couldn't. it's like i either freeze up, or go completely crazy, and i never know which one will strike first. i feel anger towards ██████ too, but i'm unsure how to go about it, when there isn't really any good reason to be angry. it's just me. i just want to be held. i'm so desperately lonely; it's pathetic but it's just the way it is. everything, and everyone, seems to make me feel even more lonely and isolated. it reminds me of when i was 11. but, i try to talk to people about things that interest me, or i'll try to adapt to their interests, but it just seems as if i end up alienating myself, or people simply don't want to talk to me. am i that unlikeable? and i'm constantly panicking that i'm selfish, or intrisicly narcissistic, or evil and rotten and doomed to hell. I WISH I WAS A REAL INSECT. I WISH I WAS SOMETHING SMALL, INSIGNIFICANT; YET CONTRIBUTES GREATLY TO THE ECOSYSTEM.

i find i am close to tears again. i looked at the picture on my about page, i wish this idealised version people had of me would be the real thing, it could stay forever, then no one would leave, no would distance themselves from me for my percieved flaws.

i want to tear this identity to shreds, cut it into a frenzy, bleed it out, become something new and fresh and pure. i am sorry.

16/04/25
i'm feeling alright now, i can tolerate myself again. it's kind of depressing, the way my perception of myself shifts so frequently and so violently, often for seemingly no reason at all. but it's manageable, you know? even in the depths of my despair, i'm aware that this is just a temporary episode of hysteria- maybe prolonged, but still temporary. as is everything, or most things. so it's all good.

anyway. watching the menu for the second time, and i watched it last night at around 5am for the first time. it amazed me, really! easily one of my favourite films; sometimes you watch a film and just have this feeling of "god damn." and i felt that. i have more thoughts on this, many, actually- because i found it to be profoundly thought-provokng, which is rare for big hollywood films these days. perhaps i look too deeply into things, but it often feels as if everything wants me to, as if these things become personified and demand i give meaning to it all. i love that, i'd never scorn myself for posessing such a trait. but back to the film: the chef, played by ralph fiennes (LOVE THAT GUY.), was obviously depicted as bitter, scathing, deranged- but, in a way that made me/you(?) go, "god, he's so real for that." obviously i have not ever worked as a chef, or even had a job- but what he said about there being two types of people, the givers and the takers, that resonated with me. what am i? i don't know, genuinely. i've given so much, but i take too. does any of this make sense? perhaps only to me, but, what's the point of bleeding out my feelings, every last one of them, if i'm just going to worry about how random, unknowable people percieve it? i have decided- i shall live only for myself and god .

i no longer want to live my life for the sake, for the pleasure of others- when they do not care for me- instead i must live a life that is healing, peaceful, sacred, and gentle. what i said about my capacity for violence in previous entries; i am surrendering it all. most of my rage, too. i want something calm. clouds and fields and god and rivers and blankets and forehead kisses and naps.

"Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest."- matthew 11:28, kjv

and the nighttime prayer, since it's 3:44 am.

Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my Soul to keep;
If I should die before I 'wake,
I pray the Lord my Soul to take.

19/04/25
hello again, internet html diary. hello hello hello. it's a peculiar time for me, there seems to be lots going on in my personal life with relationships and such things. but i remain optimistic that everything will work out in the end and things will be good for me again. i wanna fix things with A Lot of people, i don't know how though. it will be fine. good good good, it'll Work Out. believe! 🌟🌟 i want everything to be good for everyone i love(d). i feel bad, if youre reading this i'm sorry.

THINGS WILL BE OK
THINGS WILL BE OK
THINGS WILL BE OK
THINGS WILL BE OK

anyway. easter tomorrow, YAY! i love easter!! jesus & the resurrection, roast dinner, easter eggs! yay!! good times, happy times.

mmm cake... I WANT CAKE! just a nice sponge cake, jam, icing, buttercream, YUM!! 😋 should i make one? cake time. cakeworld.

21/04/25
HIII DIARY. hope you had a happy easter! 🩷 i had a rly nice easter, HE IS RISEN! but. very sad to hear about the pope's passing, may he rest in peace, with Our Father in heaven!! i prayed for him today. ave maria! but i'm incredibly nervous about the conclave, about who will be the next pope... scary time for the vatican! i have my favs, i hope it'll be one of those. 💝✝️ anyway. anyway. anyway! it's been an okay time rn, confusing, peculiar (as mentioned previously), but it WILL WORK OUT! I FEEL IT!! and i'm coping well, lately; have not been as neurtoic in these past few days, filled with hope. :D i'd like to go out and explore the world, see new things, meet people! have a wonderful time! i love nature so much. and the city too, I LOVE IT ALL!

as morrissey said in i know it's over- "it's so easy to laugh, it's so easy to hate, it takes strength to be gentle and kind"- i found this line to really resonate with me; i am angry and i have been hurt by most people in my life, but i want to gentle still, i want to be sweet! and it does take strength!! but i'm storng- you're strong- we're all strong! we're all gonna make it.

thinking about sexuality and such again. i feel my desire and my passion coming back to me, i would really like to be freaky & have fun & do things with people again! i'm learning not to be ashamed of it all, of accepting my kinks and what i am into. who caressss if i want to be hit, like fr? i know our actions don't exist in a vacuum, but i think, if i have free will, if i'm of sound mind and not using sex & kink as a way of self-harm, then what's the issue? if it makes me happy, if i don't harm anyone, then i should be allowed to express my desires freely! and i'm learning to! ^_^ i read foreverliketh.is's post- "i hate my fetish"- it really helped me and made me feel seen. i think it's definitely aimed towards men, especially those who lean submissve, but as a girl who leans (is very) submissive, then it resonated with me too! so it was nice to read! and i know that being a girl and submissive in't some profound subversive thing, it's quite regular- but why should i/we care about being transgressive when it comes to my sexual satisfaction? i don't have these kinks so i can go "wow i'm so different, i'm so against the norm" because it doesn't matter. you know? it's my life, my sex life! we vibe! we do what makes us happy as long as it does no harm!

watching all the beauty and the bloodshed , a documentary (im goin thru a big docu phase rn) about the life & career of nan goldin. goodness me, i really fucking love nan goldin. her work is so intimate and gentle, while showing the reality of life; you can really see that she used photography as a way of documenting her life, like a public diary. i downloaded a pdf version of the ballad of sexual dependency, i love looking through all of her pictures- her friends, herself, sex, her work. it's increidble, easily one (if not my absolute) of my fav photographers ever. but sadly, there's something wrong with the pdf i downloaded- none of the pictures look right at all, there's no depth or detail, there's something weird about them- like they've been put through one of those AI oil paint filters, you know? so that's disappointing, but oh well, i'll get another one! anyway, the documentary. god, it's so interesting to hear her narrate her life in her words, rather than on an institution's biography of her- it puts everything into perspective, and it feels so raw and real. i think when it comes to art and the artist's life, we often gloss over the fact that this is a real person, with real memories and experiences that made them who they are- made them an artist. does that make sense? but also, the way it weaves her work against the sackler family in too, which she does today, makes it incredibly interesting and an engaging watch.

the sackler family is profoundly evil- singlehandedly responsible for the opioid crisis, since they knew oxy was incredibly addictive and advertised it as otherwise- doctors got a huge bonus everytime they prescribed oxy, so the addiction spread like the plague. evil. anyone who profits of something that destroys lives so frequently and so violently, well... i can't even describe the rage i feel towards them. god will not be merciful. and the way they wash their filthy blood money through philanphrophy- art galleries, museums, education instituions- it just shows how willingly corrupt the instituions will be if it means money- even art- at the very top of every industry, there is blood and there is greed and violence and hatred for the common man. so, it's incredibly satisfying watching nan goldin take action against this, even if her place in the art world is destroyed, because she cares- she is a good human, and she has personally been addicted to oxy herself, so she knows. may the sackler family, and any other "people" who profit of human suffering and death in the most egregious way possible, may they feel the wrath of god quickly. and i will always be hopeful that good will prevail over evil.

anyway. i want to save up lots of money, for sweden in july, and also for future travels too. i'd love to go to america- always have wanted to. new york especially, i need to go to moma. but also in that same vein, london! when i went to london in march, it was an interesting time. since i was with college, i didn't have enough time or freedom to do the things i really wanted to do, and on the last day something happened and it killed my vibe, lord. so i'd like to go again- on my own maybe, although i know it isn't super safe, but i think i can be okay. i'd love to go the tate modern, omg. see the theatre too, i love theatre! i got tickets to see the inside number 9 stage show in september, very excited for that! anyway- also would like to go to BFI southbank, i love bfi so much omg. i'd love to see some of the classic films they show too.

24/04/25
ocillating between the two extremes of my feelings. pure rage, screaming, "fuck you fuck you fuck you"s, and then a sort of detachment, peace washing over me as if i am the beach, and my feelings are the waves. cut myself earlier, with my knife. i love that knife. only one blade was sharp enough to cut me open by just tracing it along my skin, the rest are rather dull, and this one will dull soon too. i swear i had more blades somewhere, but i can only find the three. will have to look. this was in my fit of anger, so i cut "i hate you", all caps. in blocky, straight cuts. always wondered how those people can do such smooth rounded cuts. it isn't deep at all, disappointing, but i guess the words mattered more than the actual wounds at that point. i always wish i had the courage to go deeper, to press harder, to move the blade with more fury. i will, eventually. but for now, i am cowardly.

i had some sort of strange ephiphany, a sort of realisation. that everyone i've ever hated, i have loved, and those i hate rn, i still love them deeply. i think i have an over-abundance of love for people who don't love me back, and there's so much of this that it boils over into rage and spills out of me as hatred. but in my heart, i just want them to love me back, to see me, to need me as i need them. i saw how my first guestbook message i sent to ***** in february was deleted and i wept. i think that's just because it feels as if he seems eager to forget me. that's okay, i suppose, but i don't ever want to forget anyone. i have never, ever forgotten someone i've liked. even if i have a boyfriend now, or whatever, my heart seems to long for something else. what else? i am unsure, but i know that i am a terrible girlfriend, even though i'd like to be a good one. i cannot stop yearning for others, or other things. i hate myself for it, and i woke up earlier feeling completely sick from the guilt. Profoundly, Completely Guilty, and it is all my own fault. what am i to do? sometimes it feels as if the only way out is to kill myself. i weep in anger, in love, in sorrow, and in shame. i am sorry, to everyone who has been caught up in my obsessions and my compulsions and my meanness.

i am never satiated. i seem to want something completely unobtainable. lacan was right about desire:
“Man’s very desire is constituted, he [Hegel] tells us, under the sign of mediation: it is the desire to have one’s desire recognised. Its object is a desire, that of other people, in the sense that man has no object that is constituted for his desire without some mediation. This is clear from his earliest needs, in that, for example, his very food must be prepared; and we find this anew in the whole development of his satisfaction, beginning with the conflict between master and slave, through the entire dialectic of labour”

anyway. i masturbated, it was surprisingly incredibly pleasurable. normally when my mood is like this it is very hard for me to cum, but it was easy this time, and was very nice. so there's that.

HERES ME! 🌟🌟🌟🌟

27/04/25
feeling kind of depressed again. i wish i had happier things to write! in my heart i know i am very whimsical very jovial.... i am a jester but right now i am deeply sad. this pervasive feeling of disatisfaction won't seem to leave me. why? there's such an unexplainable aura of grief surrounding me, i cannot seem to figure out why and where it's coming from. i keep thinking, "i should kill myself", but i know i won't. i think so, anyway. but i'm just so tired. i am the best i've ever been but the worst, too.

re: gustav. i think he's very happy rn, but i know he is not the one for me, and i feel as if i am living a lie. i wonder if he also feels that, but he won't talk about it. but i don't know who is the one for me, if he even exists or if i am just meant to be lonely or in an empty relationship forever. i cannot say to him, "everytime we talk i feel nothing but emptiness. i feel no attachment or a deep connection to you." but i don't even know if it's him specifically, or if i really am just depressed? i don't know what i am to do. yesterday i was looking at therapists.

I AM GOING TO HAVE A NERVOUS BREAKDOWN.