YLVIS

So… in my e-mails I showed you a clip, a short video of messages I sent to YLVIS while they were hosting “I kveld med YLVIS” and my main reason was that I wanted to be a joke, I wanted to be made fun of and I wanted no one else to be suffering like I’m suffering if I could just be made into an example.

Today I just went through all of those messages, copying and pasting them into a document so I can publish everything I wrote either in a book or on this blog. I have to HEAVILY edit it however as I did give away some personal details of a few individuals so, that will take time, and it won’t be a top priority either. I already told myself I’d take all the writing I’ve written with you in mind and make it a book, but that is on a back burner somewhere hard and blacked in the kitchen that is my mind.

I’ll get to it.

Eventually.

Costa Rica

Do you remember the email I sent with “the women I had been in love with” in your absence?

Voices are talking about one of them now…

More, horror stories about sexual assault but, like many people, she won’t talk to me either.

Not much I can do, and I don’t even want to be writing this blog but, the voices have been chattering about her for at least a half hour now.

That time in London was fun, could’ve been better but those days are behind us, no?

If she would talk to me maybe things would be different.

A brighter future, so to say.

Ah well.

Boo

https://www.instagram.com/reel/Da4ptnBOzY7/?igsh=MWdhNXFnZG9sNDBpOA==

Stupid Idea

Voices say Howard gets an erection every time I blog.

Buddy, the way I was sending emails you’d want to chop your dick off.

You think I couldn’t do that to you?

And yeah yeah that’s just a hallucination but you gotta be reasonable if you’re gonna be a voice in my head. It’s the least you could do.

Co-Existing with Delusion(s)

I was thinking about it today, because I had a good day yesterday (minimal to no voices) that I feel as if I’m being trained or conditioned by my delusions/hallucinations, and I must do everything in my power to remind myself of what reality is.

The delusions/hallucinations make this case that like, if certain conditions are met, certain people leave, etc. you will find your way back into my life to live with me in the United States.

That’s not reality, it can’t be reality.

You’ve already told me you have a wonderful husband.

You already told me you have a child.

You already told me you’d spread racism if I followed through with my actions, and I did.

If I were to believe what you’ve told me, there should be no room to give to these hallucinations.

Time and time again I have to remind myself of that, and maybe thats because “loving you” feels comfortable?

Like I don’t or wouldn’t have to try to hard to remind you of who I was and what potential we would have together.

Realistically we’d be starting from scratch, and as I learn more about Norwegian culture I assume now that starting a family was the final nail in the coffin, if there weren’t any nails in there already.

As my emotions/affection/love drive me insane I still wish you the best, and I want the best for you, regardless of my actions. Life is hard for me, especially with this illness, but as much harm as I may have already brought to you, I don’t want to bring anymore.

I hope you understand and I hope you can forgive me.

Bird

Voices called you a bird. Today I learned what that means in the year of our lord 2026:

Burning the Midnight Oil

Voices are telling me my website is being viewed by more people, and my analytics tool is also saying the same thing.

For those wondering, this is the origin of the picture I use for the Spotify music playlist:

I don't know why

Voices keep saying that night in New York you wanted two things:

  1. You wanted me to cum

  2. You wanted to die

Hearing that you want to die hurts.

But why does it hurt so much?

It shouldn’t hurt me, should it?

But maybe I think life with me is this grand alternative because things will get better.

Is my ego sore?

Does my heart ache?

I get a lump in my throat thinking I’d lose you forever even though I don’t have you right now.

Like I’m banking on there being a chance you see things my way.

It doesn’t make any sense.

I don’t know why I’m feeling these things.

But I am.

Revelations

Somehow the voices tell me things I haven’t heard before, like what really happened when you returned to the DR and got hazed. They’re saying they poured semen all over you.

With all of the realization I had years ago, I can’t say I care enough or at all about these things. I write it down sure but it doesn’t light a fire in me like it used to, albeit, there are embers of annoyance.

Hindsight

The girl I liked when I first got to high school is married with a child.

She dated my younger brother for a while, didn’t really go anywhere but maybe it’s the pattern recognition in my psychosis but this feels like a theme for me.

Love lost.

Missed opportunity.

Life doesn’t get much or any better, possibly considerably worse if I did or didn’t fuck one chick, but it’s so hard to sit here and hear all of these voices talk about who you love more, which guy you’d rather suck off, if you were or if you weren’t sexually assaulted.

That’s not all the same as love lost but the voices keep going “you should have stayed” as if they’re talking to you. And why don’t they just talk to you? They’d get it straight from the horses mouth! What you do and don’t like about me, what you will and won’t ever do for or to me ever again.

I can’t convince them of anything and yet somehow they react to my every action…

This blog, for a change, isn’t a response to something I’m hearing.

I just saw that old crush’s Instagram post, because we’re friends, and I thought about would life be different if I dated her. Who knows maybe she’d hate black guys too if I did.

So many people just hate me after dating me and I don’t know why.

This is going places I don’t want it to go. Stopping now.

Fellatio

I don’t want a blowjob.

I want to/wanted to talk.

I just needed someone to listen to me, tell me the truth about all of this, and maybe a hug.

I don’t want a blowjob.

I’ve never asked you for a blowjob.

Daikon Sex

Voices in my head say ABWJr and the guy all the way on the left of that photo with him and his Father, Pastor BW, SJL (I don’t know his middle name now that I think about it) but the guy with dreadlocks I think, that they just “turned all the way up” and had a threesome with you.

They also said “Daniel Fairclough doesn’t get pissed off.”

Am I supposed to?

Do the voices not know anything about you?

Sure I’m mad about you/madly in love with you, pick your poison, but you have, on multiple occasions, said I would never have anything to do with your life, and also that you’d spread racism/racist remarks about me.

So if you’re letting it all hang out and getting sucked and fucked by someone else, radio waves/psychic beams or otherwise, why would I care? Why should I care? You have already told me that you basically hate me. I’m just writing to convince my loving heart that it has a snowballs chance in hell to love you again.

Beyond that, why use these radio waves at all? Why not buy a Kiiroo? I remember showing you this years ago in e-mails, all the technology that exists to support long distance relationships now. Although this looks a bit different nowadays, from when it first came out. I’ll have to do more research on it, but its not like I’m planning to be in a long distance relationship anytime soon… why bother…

Never Give Up

Maybe I wrote it in an e-mail. That time I got drunk and slept on a bench and lost my phone, only to track it down the next day with my iPod touch.

That was my “never give up” story.

Voices in my head say you’re emulating me, and that you’ve learned, from all my madness, to “never give up” on someone.

So you’re out there making your playlist for the person you really want to be with, because somehow also, in my psychosis, you’ve done the work of staying away from Howard for a year to get your divorce.

I wish they would just leave me out of it.

I wish they would just talk amongst themselves and I can go off and do the things I want.

Date the women I want to date.

Workout without “stinging light.”

etc etc

Everyone is here

Since last night it’s sounded like everyone I know is in my head and can see and hear the things that I see…

You want me dead

Voices have been vocal these last two days, I’m sure you can tell, but one of the subplots now is that they claim you want me dead, or to be killed.

sometimes they say “that’s the opposite” but what is the opposite? To live a long fulfilling life?

It’s, again, distressing.

And to dig a bit deeper into that, maybe I’m being paranoid but I remember talking to you and you were big into getting revenge on xanga. Or maybe that was someone else using your account to message me.

When I was arrested I found out that your culture of revenge is a Viking belief/practice.

So where am I going with this?

I guess what I’m saying is I’m afraid you’ll try to get your revenge on me.

I don’t know what that looks like, but I do know that even with this increased amount of paranoia and anxiety I would still welcome you back into my life, even if somehow that means my life is forfeit.

Something in my just wants you that much.

I mean, it would be disingenuous for me to be doing all of this, writing all of this, feeling all of this, explaining all of this to go “nah, I’d drop you like a bad habit.”

Curiosity kills the cat and I’ve got a few lives left to lose I suppose.