This post is OLD:
Do people perceive life in different way? Well you could say so, but no one really does understand how anyone sees life, how they perceive things, what they think of things, of people, of sites and smells. I don't know whether many people think the way i do, but i would love to find out, i would love to have an insight into what thoughts people have while lying in bed at night, or while staring into the sky, what goes on in their mind when they have had their heart broken, or when someone close to them dies, but also people that are going through a hard time, maybe people who have tried commiting suicide. What goes through their minds, what they would think could happen next.
Like with a person that has a someone close to them die, maybe they would think they will stay with them forever as 'ghosts' or 'spirits', or maybe they would think of how they would be able to carry on their life without them, how they would find the norm' again? How they would be able to wake up in the morning and go through their day without seeing that persons face?
What about the people that have maybe tried with suicide? What goes on in their mind if they cut themselfs? Maybe they think it will get better, or atleast it may feel better for that moment?
Maybe i should stop assuming?
But how do people perceive life ? You may perceive life maybe as a road, a journey ? That road maybe a warm sunny place, with many friendly people, but there will be a place on that road, and when you reach that place, the clouds may come in, and cover the sun, and the rain may pour down on you, you may be cold and wet and worried about where to go next, but you'll find your way and get back on track on that warm sunny road.
Iv'e always wanted to know what goes on in the minds of people, maybe if they're depressed ? Or like maybe commiting self abuse or something ? I don't know whether i will ever experience this, it really depends whether my emotions come to that extent.

Fix me

Wed, 29 May 19:41

Today I shouted at my mum. I screamed at her over the phone. She was still at work, but she took my call nevertheless. And she listened to me shout. I called her because I was late, and I didn't know where she put a garment of mine. I searched for a long time and started to get frustrated. My calls weren't going through. I used my dad's phone to call her work, and find out where the shirt was. I called and shouted at her straight away. Through all my anger and frustration towards her, she still kept her warm loving tone with me. She told me where it was & I found it, she wished me good luck for the competition and I put the phone down on her. 
Who am I?
Who said she deserved that? 
Why did I think I had the right? 
Am I spoilt? 
Some daughter I am. Great fucking daughter. After everything. I still give her this. Stupid fucking argh. Nicole.
This morning I was told I got into CAT, of which I audition for a while back. I told my mum, she said she was extremely proud of me. She said I knew I could do it, that I deserved it. 
I just got home, I thought about my mum, I texted her that I was sorry for shouting and that I didn't mean to overreact. This is what she said:
"Don't feel bad about it! You apologised and move on my baby! Just try not to overreact next time. We're both going through a lot, but I always try as much as I can to be a good mum, the same way you're trying to be the best dancer ever! Xx I love you x"

'We're both going through a lot"

'try as much as I can to be a good mum'

'a good mum'

'try not to overreact'

'I love you'

'best dancer ever'

'I'm so proud of you'

'You deserve it'

'a good mum' 

' I try'

Nicole you're a monster. You disgust me. Truly.
Bask in your guilt. Dirty creature.

I plead you bid me goodbye. Let me bask in this empty depth for a while.

I am forlorn.
I miss you like you have been taken away, and I am forlorn. I have no right to feel this way.
Though you are still here, I miss you. I miss memories.
I miss something. Something inside of me craves the past; and the present. Craves us. But I cannot grip onto it. I don't know how to. I just know it's present somewhere.
I've grown fond of it, and I'm beginning to realising that it is hard to imagine life without it.

It's a tugging somewhere, constant tugging. Though I am happy and content with it, I am forlorn nevertheless. And I live with a hard lump resting half way down my oesophagus. The constant holding back of these strange tears. These from no where.

And yet with this blood, this holy wine, this bitter but sweet,
I have become happy, I am content. 
I am tranquil.

BULLSHIT. You are a fucking failure. Just sit down and shut up Nicole.
No one wants you here.