Where did I leave off?
I don't want to go back and actually read what I write because that's too fucking draining. I just want to write it all out and try my best to shove the memory out of my brain. That's my therapy... especially now that I feel that disgusting feeling coming back to me... that nasty depression. Fucked up shit, man. It's that fucking terrible disease that you don't/can't eliminate... it just goes into hibernation for a bit... never knowing when the next outbreak will return. Like motherfucking botulism, it lives dormant in a motherfucking endospore which keeps it around for motherfucking eternity, until conditions are optimal to once again be release into the world.
"Ahhh, she's sad again... a couple of people have done and said mean things to her. GO! I release you! Be free! Wreck her world, depression!"
What was I going to talk about? About my own version of the fucking Trail of Tears out in Mykonos?
Ah... Mykonos. A fucking paradise of excess... too much liquor, too much skin, too much money, too much sun... too much everything.
Music is loud as fuck.
Food is expensive as shit.
The ONE fucking road is packed as fuck with cars.
Humans packed like rats in the tiny streets.
Liquor everywhere... even on your fucking clothes.
Dark, burnt skin on everyone... maybe not the Chinese tourists, who are ridiculously careful not to tan at all, with their huge hats, jean pants, running shoes, long sleeves, parasols etc (then why THE FUCK do you come to the fucking island, guys?! WHY THEFUCK?! It's AN ISLAND! THERE IS SUN! Goddamn lots of fucking sun! Nothing BUT sun from 5AM to 8:30PM. Go to fucking England or Germany if you want to hide from Helios! Goddamn. Ok, enough with the tangent).
NOT ENOUGH taxis.
Too many fucking stray cats making the place smell of shit and sound of horny cats fucking throughout the day... all motherfucking day and night... and fighting... so many fucking disgusting cats fighting like loud, drunken teenaged girls.
But it was fun.
Lol. "Fun."
It was... "relaxing." Yes. Relaxing. Let's go with that.
I got to sit in a fluffy "puff" aka giant beanbag bed on the beach with drinks in my hand... sitting under the sun, no parasol... from 11AM until 7PM. Just sitting there, catching some motherfucking skin cancer, with a nice dose of lung cancer from all the motherfucking jackasses who love to smoke like fucking chimneys... as though that fucking stench is fucking rad or some shit. Sitting there with watery eyes from the irritation their fucking horrible smoke brought to my eyes (I know this was the cause of my tears because I still wasn't all fucking emotional, so my tears weren't emotionally-induced, but merely a product of my obnoxious, irritating environment).
I was the tallest girl there... which was strange... considering I'm in Europe and European girls are tall, from what I remember. I was also the "thickest," which in this part of the world breaks down to FATEST (actually, on my last day, there was one girl who was "fat" aka "American" in shape... but her personality and self-esteem made her behave like any of the naturally thin Mediterranean girls. I was hell of envious of that girl... her attitude. Go, big girl, go!). And while I don't have visible rolls when I stand, I'm getting that "athletic girl" look which isn't necessarily "ripped/jacked", just like... straight, with giant thighs and arms. Laying down I just look like a giant fucking log... a fucking unfortunate tree trunk after a stormy night.
My skin wasn't tanning as nicely as the rest of the girls... I was getting my "fuck my fucking stupid Iberian roots" burn on. I'm a naturally tan girl (which caused me a ton of distress as a kid, since my family is a lover of porcelain skin and I was the "unfortunate" dark one)... but for some reason, "tanning" just doesn't work for me. My combination skin is some fucked up, useless shit.
So, the pale-complexioned females of my group suddenly came out of this weekend beautifully golden... I came out of it... um... combination skinned-- a little tanned here, a lot of pale there, even more red and burned over here.
And the nights.
Ah, the nights-- can't forget those shits.
I refused to go out on night two (the first night I hung on for dear life until 2 in the morning, after arriving to Europe from my transatlantic flight from Vegas). Night three, the infamous night, I tried to be a good sport.
So, I make my way through the crowd, last person in the line, naturally... braving the painful burn I had going on my lower back (so easy to forget to cover that shit in sunscreen when you hit the beach to roast like a fucking pig on a spit).
Everything is fine and dandy as we position ourselves in the spot one of the girls had RSVP'ed for us at the bar. I drank. I danced around. I smiled. I observed.
Then my godson started dancing like... like a fucking stripper. The only person in the entire building to be dancing. The Greek men and women (oh, I should probably mention this was a Greek bar, not the touristy shit normal tourist visit) stared... stared hard.
We didn't tell him anything, just hoped he'd get the hint that uh, you don't do that 'round these here parts, but no... it seemed as though the looks of disgust and disdain form others only encouraged him to gyrate and thrust more aggressively.
This isn't Cancun. Chill out, Striparella.
Eventually a gay dude tried approaching him, only to be turned away by one of the girls in the group (quite aggressively, actually. It made me laugh).
Still, despite this slight aggravation over my blood's unwillingness to respect a culture's social norm, I still tried enjoying myself.
I DID enjoy seeing what music made the locals sing and dance... and I DID try dancing along... however, it was impossible to sing along because I had no fucking clue what was being said. This was entertaining, however, it made me look as though I wasn't having a good time.
Then my brother, angrily gesticulating at me his frustration over "hating to see me look so miserable" managed to dump his alcoholic drink all over my skirt and feet.
All of this because by 4AM, I was resting my back on the wall and trying to calm down my alcoholic buzz (six mixed drinks and a shot of patron... having eaten one meal all day. Cut me a break, please).
So, since my drunk brother's getting agitated, he decides to force me to leave the club. Alone. At 4:30AM.
It was wonderful.
Did I mention there weren't enough taxis on this godforsaken island? 25. 25 fucking taxis.
So, AnoMALIE, walk your miserable ass to your room.
So... being kicked out of the Greek bar by my brother, I force my way through the crowd and eventually, make it out to the one road that will take me to my hotel, two miles away.
The road winds through the coast line... so it's a nice view.
The moon was huge, reflecting on the sea... like in fucking cartoons... AND it was a huge, reddish moon.
Every once in a while, I'd have to edge over as far as possible in order to avoid getting hit by a car as it drove past me.
There are these huge thorny bushes on this fucking island... shit people fail to fucking mention in movies and all that shit... how motherfucking painful it is to accidentally step on one, or slap your hand against one... rub your monstrous outer thigh against one. As I walked along the road, and edged over to avoid dying at the hands of a drunk driver (while I often DO want to die, this has never been an acceptable method... fuck that shit), I'd manage to hurt myself numerous times with these goddamn horrible thorns.
After hurting myself for probably the fifth time with one of the thorns, I came to a complete stop, looked out at the ocean to my left (once again thought about just dying... how I COULD just jump off the cliff right there, but how I MIGHT not die once I hit the bottom, just like... horrifically hurt myself BUT stay alive as punishment... yet another method nixed), the speeding, quickly fading car to my right (all I could think was how the driver probably thought "Outta the way, ya fucking COW!" as it sped past me)... and the desolate, long road ahead of me... I burst into sobs.
No, not just tears... I'm talking motherfucking, body-shaking sobs.
How many times have y'all seen these, Greek gods? Huh?! Poseidon, Little Mermaid... you fucks! A motherfucking LOSER ASS GIRL walking along the beach at the crack of dawn crying her fucking eyes out , completely fucking alone in the world, unable to connect with ANYONE... even her fucking blood. A motherfucking lonely loser in such a motherfucking glorious place, in a FUCKING SEA OF PEOPLE. Surrounded by such fucking beauty... painful fucking beauty... feeling like the fucking stupidest, ugliest, just... fucking stupidest, useless piece of shit in the world. A fucking waste of space and money... and did I mention how MUCH FUCKING SPACE this idiot girl takes up?! Godfuckingdamn.
So I cry. A lot. And keep walking.
"Why can't I be normal?" constantly running through my mind... sobs slowly calming down... too busy trying to wipe the snot off my face.
And then I run into a little puddle of blood... and make out a fresh roadkill... that earlier today was one of these disgusting, annoying cats on the island.
And I crack once again-- loud sobs now.
I cry all the way up the hill (more like motherfucking concrete mountain) to my hotel--in my handy Flojos flip flops-- where I wipe my snotty, tear-streaked face with my flow-y tank-top, fix my wind-blown hair, adjust my busted, thorn-carrying maxi skirt... take a deep breath, and I walk in the lobby.
"Yasas."
I fumble with my room key, enter my bathroom... and break down again-- this time with the comfort of some sturdy toilet paper to blow my nose, and a nice clean towel to hold over my eyes.
Finally, I crawl into my rock-hard bed and fall asleep.
I wake up in the morning to see (despite my very swollen eyes) my brother and godson in their comfy beds, knocked out cold.
I can't get them to wake up, so I head out to the hotel's kitchen alone. I grab some breakfast, sit at my own table... and stare out into the sea... like the lonely fucking spinster that I am.
The scenery may change, but the fucking undesirable, awkward, lonesome, dead person that I am on the inside remains motherfucking constant.
Ho hey.
I don't want to go back and actually read what I write because that's too fucking draining. I just want to write it all out and try my best to shove the memory out of my brain. That's my therapy... especially now that I feel that disgusting feeling coming back to me... that nasty depression. Fucked up shit, man. It's that fucking terrible disease that you don't/can't eliminate... it just goes into hibernation for a bit... never knowing when the next outbreak will return. Like motherfucking botulism, it lives dormant in a motherfucking endospore which keeps it around for motherfucking eternity, until conditions are optimal to once again be release into the world.
"Ahhh, she's sad again... a couple of people have done and said mean things to her. GO! I release you! Be free! Wreck her world, depression!"
What was I going to talk about? About my own version of the fucking Trail of Tears out in Mykonos?
 |
| Quiet solitude-- my paradise... minus all that fucking sun and bare skin. |
Music is loud as fuck.
Food is expensive as shit.
The ONE fucking road is packed as fuck with cars.
Humans packed like rats in the tiny streets.
Liquor everywhere... even on your fucking clothes.
Dark, burnt skin on everyone... maybe not the Chinese tourists, who are ridiculously careful not to tan at all, with their huge hats, jean pants, running shoes, long sleeves, parasols etc (then why THE FUCK do you come to the fucking island, guys?! WHY THEFUCK?! It's AN ISLAND! THERE IS SUN! Goddamn lots of fucking sun! Nothing BUT sun from 5AM to 8:30PM. Go to fucking England or Germany if you want to hide from Helios! Goddamn. Ok, enough with the tangent).
NOT ENOUGH taxis.
Too many fucking stray cats making the place smell of shit and sound of horny cats fucking throughout the day... all motherfucking day and night... and fighting... so many fucking disgusting cats fighting like loud, drunken teenaged girls.
 |
| Night life about to kick everyone in the fucking mouth... |
Lol. "Fun."
It was... "relaxing." Yes. Relaxing. Let's go with that.
I got to sit in a fluffy "puff" aka giant beanbag bed on the beach with drinks in my hand... sitting under the sun, no parasol... from 11AM until 7PM. Just sitting there, catching some motherfucking skin cancer, with a nice dose of lung cancer from all the motherfucking jackasses who love to smoke like fucking chimneys... as though that fucking stench is fucking rad or some shit. Sitting there with watery eyes from the irritation their fucking horrible smoke brought to my eyes (I know this was the cause of my tears because I still wasn't all fucking emotional, so my tears weren't emotionally-induced, but merely a product of my obnoxious, irritating environment).
I was the tallest girl there... which was strange... considering I'm in Europe and European girls are tall, from what I remember. I was also the "thickest," which in this part of the world breaks down to FATEST (actually, on my last day, there was one girl who was "fat" aka "American" in shape... but her personality and self-esteem made her behave like any of the naturally thin Mediterranean girls. I was hell of envious of that girl... her attitude. Go, big girl, go!). And while I don't have visible rolls when I stand, I'm getting that "athletic girl" look which isn't necessarily "ripped/jacked", just like... straight, with giant thighs and arms. Laying down I just look like a giant fucking log... a fucking unfortunate tree trunk after a stormy night.
My skin wasn't tanning as nicely as the rest of the girls... I was getting my "fuck my fucking stupid Iberian roots" burn on. I'm a naturally tan girl (which caused me a ton of distress as a kid, since my family is a lover of porcelain skin and I was the "unfortunate" dark one)... but for some reason, "tanning" just doesn't work for me. My combination skin is some fucked up, useless shit.
So, the pale-complexioned females of my group suddenly came out of this weekend beautifully golden... I came out of it... um... combination skinned-- a little tanned here, a lot of pale there, even more red and burned over here.
And the nights.
Ah, the nights-- can't forget those shits.
I refused to go out on night two (the first night I hung on for dear life until 2 in the morning, after arriving to Europe from my transatlantic flight from Vegas). Night three, the infamous night, I tried to be a good sport.
 |
| She's loving life, ey? Check out the crowd in the mirror above her head. |
Everything is fine and dandy as we position ourselves in the spot one of the girls had RSVP'ed for us at the bar. I drank. I danced around. I smiled. I observed.
 |
| Crowd outside the bar/club. True story: another reality series was being filmed at the time. I just attract that sort of shit. |
We didn't tell him anything, just hoped he'd get the hint that uh, you don't do that 'round these here parts, but no... it seemed as though the looks of disgust and disdain form others only encouraged him to gyrate and thrust more aggressively.
This isn't Cancun. Chill out, Striparella.
Eventually a gay dude tried approaching him, only to be turned away by one of the girls in the group (quite aggressively, actually. It made me laugh).
Still, despite this slight aggravation over my blood's unwillingness to respect a culture's social norm, I still tried enjoying myself.
I DID enjoy seeing what music made the locals sing and dance... and I DID try dancing along... however, it was impossible to sing along because I had no fucking clue what was being said. This was entertaining, however, it made me look as though I wasn't having a good time.
Then my brother, angrily gesticulating at me his frustration over "hating to see me look so miserable" managed to dump his alcoholic drink all over my skirt and feet.
All of this because by 4AM, I was resting my back on the wall and trying to calm down my alcoholic buzz (six mixed drinks and a shot of patron... having eaten one meal all day. Cut me a break, please).
So, since my drunk brother's getting agitated, he decides to force me to leave the club. Alone. At 4:30AM.
It was wonderful.
Did I mention there weren't enough taxis on this godforsaken island? 25. 25 fucking taxis.
So, AnoMALIE, walk your miserable ass to your room.
 |
| That's really just a puddle of my own tears. |
The road winds through the coast line... so it's a nice view.
The moon was huge, reflecting on the sea... like in fucking cartoons... AND it was a huge, reddish moon.
Every once in a while, I'd have to edge over as far as possible in order to avoid getting hit by a car as it drove past me.
There are these huge thorny bushes on this fucking island... shit people fail to fucking mention in movies and all that shit... how motherfucking painful it is to accidentally step on one, or slap your hand against one... rub your monstrous outer thigh against one. As I walked along the road, and edged over to avoid dying at the hands of a drunk driver (while I often DO want to die, this has never been an acceptable method... fuck that shit), I'd manage to hurt myself numerous times with these goddamn horrible thorns.
After hurting myself for probably the fifth time with one of the thorns, I came to a complete stop, looked out at the ocean to my left (once again thought about just dying... how I COULD just jump off the cliff right there, but how I MIGHT not die once I hit the bottom, just like... horrifically hurt myself BUT stay alive as punishment... yet another method nixed), the speeding, quickly fading car to my right (all I could think was how the driver probably thought "Outta the way, ya fucking COW!" as it sped past me)... and the desolate, long road ahead of me... I burst into sobs.
No, not just tears... I'm talking motherfucking, body-shaking sobs.
How many times have y'all seen these, Greek gods? Huh?! Poseidon, Little Mermaid... you fucks! A motherfucking LOSER ASS GIRL walking along the beach at the crack of dawn crying her fucking eyes out , completely fucking alone in the world, unable to connect with ANYONE... even her fucking blood. A motherfucking lonely loser in such a motherfucking glorious place, in a FUCKING SEA OF PEOPLE. Surrounded by such fucking beauty... painful fucking beauty... feeling like the fucking stupidest, ugliest, just... fucking stupidest, useless piece of shit in the world. A fucking waste of space and money... and did I mention how MUCH FUCKING SPACE this idiot girl takes up?! Godfuckingdamn.
So I cry. A lot. And keep walking.
"Why can't I be normal?" constantly running through my mind... sobs slowly calming down... too busy trying to wipe the snot off my face.
And then I run into a little puddle of blood... and make out a fresh roadkill... that earlier today was one of these disgusting, annoying cats on the island.
And I crack once again-- loud sobs now.
 |
| FUCK that fucking hill and that adorable hotel that rests on top of it... |
"Yasas."
I fumble with my room key, enter my bathroom... and break down again-- this time with the comfort of some sturdy toilet paper to blow my nose, and a nice clean towel to hold over my eyes.
Finally, I crawl into my rock-hard bed and fall asleep.
I wake up in the morning to see (despite my very swollen eyes) my brother and godson in their comfy beds, knocked out cold.
I can't get them to wake up, so I head out to the hotel's kitchen alone. I grab some breakfast, sit at my own table... and stare out into the sea... like the lonely fucking spinster that I am.
The scenery may change, but the fucking undesirable, awkward, lonesome, dead person that I am on the inside remains motherfucking constant.
 |
| View walking DOWN the hill, about one fourth of the way down. |
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