nostalgia.

i wish i could go back to year eleven. around about may or april or something.

every lunch i used to go to my best friends house and we'd melt chocolate and put rice crispies in it, or we'd go back to mine and eat jam on toast. we never had to hang around with the people we didn't want to anymore because we were year eleven and that meant you could leave the school at lunch times.

i used to have five lessons free a week to go home and do whatever i wanted in them. and because my english teacher left, and the subsitute was shit, my parents wouldn't care if i told them i wasn't going into english and sat at home and taught myself instead.

and i remember walking back to school and seeing my friends that did art (which was the first exam) and they were walking away saying "we're going to go sit on a field, art's finished now so we don't have to go back for it."

and i remember sitting on the field with some friends before our science exam, we all sat there chatting and not really apprehensive at all.

and we only really had to go in for exams and my friends would say "we're not going into maths today, want to go to the field?" and we would. and we all revised at home and we all passed.

and nothing seemed to matter much anymore, because we were all free. we all knew we had a month or so and then it'd be over. compulsory schooling would be over for all of us, and we'd all made it.

and so we could turn up late and nobody would really care, or we'd not turn up at all and nobody would care, or we'd refuse to do things and nobody could do anything about it. and we all thought "yeah this is our life now". and we all felt like we'd finally grown up.

and then we had our summer to do whatever we wanted in. and i didn't go to prom because i didn't want to. and we met up in the summer and we had parties and we got drunk. and we all felt happy and like we were finally doing things we wanted to do.

and we got our results and we were happy with what we got.

but then it all just sort of... deflated. for me, at least. i just started questioning what was worth it; after i'd just left that schooling environment, why would i want to go straight back into it to break my back for two years trying to achieve "a-levels"? it seemed stupid. it seemed going against the idea of our newfound freedom.

and my friends agreed with me (sortof). but nobody else did anything. and i went to college like everyone else thinking "am i free? or am i just in another box?"

and i used to stare out the windows in psychology and law and look at all the little people doing their jobs and i just thought "why?" what was the point? did it make them happy? did they feel free? why did everyone put themselves in these little boxes?

and so i purposely flunked my exams so i could be free again. they basically said i had to leave law, and if i had to leave law, i was no longer a full-time student, and i was sortof probationary for psychology, and i was doing well at english but i didn't want to be in that stupid room with that stupid teacher spouting thoughts she'd picked up from text-books. she never had a singular thought of her own, and that drove me crazy. what drove me even more crazy, was the fact that everyone in the class saw her as a saint, a genius, when i thought she was just a phony. i literally loathed her and spent all my time in her class wishing for the courage to stand up and walk out.

and then i sat at home for nine months "free" and horrifically unhappy/uncreative. blah blah blah.

i just wish i could go back to that time when things seemed hopeful, i guess. now things seem sortof... "lesser of two evils". that's my feeble attempt at articulation. i hope for your sake you stopped reading half-way through. or before.

i dont feel so crazy

when i feel like i have a purpose.

i love listening to music and writing. even if the music is too loud and the writing is crappy. i like flirting with guys even if i'm not 100% sure that it's going to lead to something that's worth anything. i love learning new things even though i think it makes me more crazy. i love baths even though they're pointless.

lonliness.

mostly i think everybody in the world is totally alone. i mean, you never share yourself a hundred percent with anyone else. so therefore, you're alone. right? i don't know. i think i'm half terrified of everyone else. and the other half is split 50/50 with love and hatred for them. i'm far too compassionate so it's hard for me to be around people sometimes.

non-human things are the best things in the world probably. but humans also keep me grounded and make me feel a lot less of a freak than i am.

i'm going to change myself i think. i think i want to be two people. to have two different forms of existence. i almost want to have two bodies to control, and lead them down two completely adjacent paths. it's crazy! i don't think i'm going to be alive for all that long. when everything gets hopeless and stale to the point where i can't take it anymore i'll go. it may be 25 years, it may be 30, may be 40-odd. who knows. i just know it's going to happen!

i'm a solopsist. i just don't really believe anything's real ultimately. this isn't my first nor my last form of existence. i just feel apart from everything. i just repeat myself all the time. i'm just so boring! it's okay though. my brain can handle it for now.

my emotions can handle it, i should say. (and again, i should say, FOR NOW!)

i don't think i want to have babies. they scare me so much.

i think i'll keep this secret

not secret so much as 'private'. i don't know. i keep getting too hett up about how i appear to people when i write. i think sometimes i over-compensate for my lack of articulation with contrived little quotes or notions, and, i do that all the time, this is like my little oasis. almost away from myself. oh GOD if only there were some way i could avoid myself. i'm sure it'd make my life easier. tenfold easier.

smoking cigarettes, for me, is fabulous. i like drinking when i'm with people i don't know so i can relax and meet them. i like smoking weed when i'm with my brother because i trust him and that way i won't feel weird or paranoid. i like smoking cigarettes on my own. i think it makes the world a little better. a little bit easier to deal with.

i wonder if i really enjoy spending time on my own. i think sometimes it's my favourite thing. i think sometimes it's abhorrent... maybe that's what i think about me, too. sometimes i'm my favourite person. sometimes i'm my worst enemy. maybe it's just that paradox thing that stalks me. that i have my own little torrid love afair with.




courtney love, i know that i'm straight, and that you're a bit a lot older than me, but can we marry despite this? i'm pretty sure our love would suprass everyone elses fake immitation. we would be so perfect for one another <3

tomorrowtomorrowtomorrowtomorrow

things i want:

i want to live somewhere not here. i want to frequent pubs and clubs and have friends that know me and will have fun with me and we will look out for one another. i want a job that pays okay. i want to be writing forever and i hope that someone will pick up my writing and pay me for that, possibly so that i don't have to have a regular job anymore. i want an endless supply of books in my flat. i want to not feel lonely but equally to have my alone time. i want a lifetime supply of diet coke in my fridge and to live near a bakery and a green grocers. i want to wear skirts and dresses every single day. i want to wear lipstick and eye-shaddow and mascara and foundation every single day, like a mask. i want to smoke malborough reds. i want to have friends that play music and friends that write stories. i want to have tattoos and i want to have connections. i want for someone to think of me as a muse or an inspiration. i want to have a say but i don't want to be famous. i want to stop biding my time and just be.

wow. what the fuck.

woah. it seems like everything in my life is pointing toward a certain direction. and i don't want to take that direction... it's almost like every practical aspect of my life is pointing toward it, and every artistic aspect is pointing the opposite fucking direction.

i mean - the direction that i feel i am being persuaded to go to - i will get money from, and probably a job at the end of it, a job that would most probably fit in with my personality quite well.

the direction, or rather, the no direction of staying afloat and drifting between the proximities of where i am now, wants me to stay here because ... going away doesn't feel right.

when i watched 'into the wild', he read a passage in a book, and in there it said, to paraphrase it,
'the secret of happiness is thus; to do a job one feels is worth something, to have a small group of friends, to give yourself alone time and indulge yourself in your hobbies.'



let me tell you what i do know: i certainly feel as though i know that nobody's really there for me anymore. like a hundred percent. i cultivate friendships but under tension they snap like fragile twigs. and then it seems that i have aquantances and not friendships. and that would be okay if i had some strong bonds that i could rely upon. but i don't feel as though i do have that. it's difficult for me to admit that i feel like my existence is this much of a mess because i definitely believe in solopsism, and therefore i should feel as though my life is my own fate, but i find it hard to believe sometimes. when i walk in the green and i watch as all the animals co-exist with one another i find it hard to believe in my, afore-claimed significance in this world. or rather, my significance in creating this world. i am not an artist. is my imagination that vast that i could assign each thing a touch, a smell, a word? or is that an act of narcassism in its truest form?

I AM SO FRUSTRATED WITH EVERYONE

i think it's something to do with me projecting my self-loathing onto them and their actions. I DON'T KNOW. ALL I KNOW, IS I HATE EVERYONE TODAY.

i'm just filled to the FUCKING BRIM with anger and depression. If i'm not on the brink of tears i'm digging my nails into my skin. FUCK I HATE EVERYTHING.

i need to get outta here so bad. SO BAD. i want to move away. i don't know where to. i don't know what i'll do. I JUST NEED A FRESH START. i need everything yet nothing. i need just for the world to stop for two seconds. i need to stop having people articulate or intellectualize /actualize my emotions and just let me BE FUCKING EMOTIONAL OKAY???

i know i'm so cliche, so so cliche, but people just don't understand me, okay??? They don't. i'm an entity. you haven't felt/experienced every emotion running through my veins. DON'T TELL ME I'M LIKE YOU I CAN BE MY OWN PERSON, TOO.

life is so imperfect

i don't want to stay here any longer. it's not for me stevenage. not for me saying in a little town. it's not me. it won't bring me happiness. i'm not alive really anymore. i want to come back to life. i want to do something that makes me happy and noticed and different. very different. indeed.

i want to feel independent and i want to have my own money and my own place. and i want to have a constant supply of diet coke and malborough reds. and i want to read books some days but other days i want to be out the house someplace fun with some people that i like. and i want to create create create. and i want to take risks and i want to feel the cold air on my face as my heart flutters. and i want success and i want to make a splash and i want life to be a challenge. but i want to end it all with happiness. i want i want i want.

diet coke

it tastes the best after spicey food or a cigarette.

OH GOLLY.

i really really want to believe my life's going to go somewhere. i really want to believe i'm here for an actual reason. but i don't really see a future for myself, to be blunt. i'm not saying that to be melodramatic. i'm saying it honestly. i want to change and i want to evolve and i want, more than anything, just to be plain old happy. but i feel like i constrict myself. i'm hardly ever truely happy. like i said. when i went to see courtney love last night, that was literally the happiest that i have felt in years. I DIDN'T EVEN MEET HER. SHE HAS NO KNOWLEGDE OF MY EXISTENCE, YET IT CHEERED ME UP MORE THAN ANY FAMILY MEMBER / FRIEND HAS MANAGED TO.

i decided that i'm gonna bring an end to my incessant neurosis and just fucking FLIP A COIN. yes, you read correctly. i'm going to flip this here coin (incase you care, it's a penny) and it's going to decide my future. it's going to decide what it is i'm gonna be doing (up until the summer at least).

so, yes, dear Penny, my whole world is in your hands.

(flashback: courtney love last night singing that and reaching her hands out & me mimicking each move, without any real reason to, just because i felt compelled. i adore that woman so completely.)

okay, so anyway, back to present topics!!

heads = do the IT zenos course
tails = stay on the media course

yeah. i'm about to flip it. just in a second.

(my heart's beating fast.)

oh by the way i can't actually flip a coin, so i'm gonna throw it in the air.


.........

........

........


heads.

i saw hole.

they surpassed my expectations. i went crazy. i was gripping onto the pole, jumping. i sang my heart out. i screamed as loud as i could. i was so happy. so freakin happy. happiest i've been in years. it was ridiculous. and kind of sad. but no less true.

recently i've been feeling really depressed. i've covered it well i think. but i think these posts stand testimony to my state of mind. but i forgot it all last night. so eternally happy in the most beautiful fulfilled inspired way. courtney to me, represents life. the will to carry on living, and more than that, the DESIRE to do so. so many people live for others. including myself. that's the lesson i have learnt from her presence; i need to find a reason to live for me and not for others. i need to not want to choke cut overdose myself for myself and not for others. it's a simple revelation, but it's helping my psyche recover, i think. i hope.

she opened with 'pretty on the inside'. all i could think was everything she'd been through. i thought of hillcrest. i thought of the emotional abandonment by both her parents. i thought of her being all alone in a big world. i thought of her fighting tooth and nail to be listened to in the music business. i thought of her losing kurt. i thought of her descending into drugs. i thought of the crippling lonliness that i can recognize she's felt. i thought of losing her daughter. i thought of her contemplating suicide. i thought of her coming off the drugs. losing her daughter a second time. i thought of every bad thing i know that she's been through, and how ultimately lonely she must have felt at times, and how powerful she is. how powerful a persona she possess on that stage, to have so many people sing, scream, REALLY FEEL HER LYRICS instead of singing along to a catchy tune.

and i looked at her and i loved her. i loved that she kept fighting. i loved that she's still breathing. i love that so many things should have stopped her in her tracks. all the hard times she's battled through. the lack of security she's had in her life.

i need to start being alive. i need to devise a plan. i need to execute it. books can get me so far and really i teach myself the most when i read them. i need my life to be exciting instead of just my imagination. i need to move around the world and meet people and hate people and love people and develop interests and emotions and i need to go to the depths of hell and the heights and beauty of heaven. i need to constantly evolve into a new person. i need to develop myself. my sense of 'i'. i need to get out of this mind frame and i need to widen my experiences and not be intimidated by people. or not let people show that i am intimidated by them...

i'll extrovert myself more. i'll hone my skills to become a quiet extrovert. i'll devise something and i'll make something of myself. and i won't look down at people. because i don't really believe anything you do makes you better or worse than another person. it's all the same. we're all the same. it's all up to us. everything that restricts us is in our minds. it's not real. money isn't real. emotional attachment isn't real. nothing's real. it's all just in our minds. and we shouldn't let ourselves be held back from living, and i mean REALLY living, just because we're afraid of dying.

i feel like a big ball'a crazy.

everytime someone sends me a message or something i instantaneously think that it's going to be cruel words. i think everyone secretly hates me. it's really tiring and frustrating, because even when logically i can figure out that someone doesn't hate me i still have that paranoia etching itself into my skin. it scares me utterly & completely.

i don't know what to do anymore. it's the week off college. that's a week everyone looks forward to. and it's torture for me. i guess that's because i have no life. and as hard as that is for me to admit it's also very true. i just don't have anyone that cares about me a hundred percent. and the few that do care about me, i'm either too shy or too nervous to really try my hardest with. so i don't know, i guess i'm kind of stuck here in the middle with nothing or nobody and sometimes that's okay. sometimes i like to be alone. i like it more than most. but i like it to be broken up by meeting up with people. but, like i said, people don't hate me, but i'm just not that important to anyone i guess.

i'm going to see hole tomorrow. they're my favourite band (well, joint with nirvana). they have been since i was fifteen. i remember all the nights i swore i'd swap anything, ANYTHING to be close to courtney love. to me, she is just the definition of life. of risking things. of living through things. of intellect and everything beautiful. i'm sure i sound like her stalker, but i utterly adore her. and it's the night before the concert. i'm trying to decide how to wear my hair and what dress to wear and if my accessories go with it and if i need to buy anything tomorrow, and i can't just smile. i can't smile & be happy & thankful. it's awful. i feel awful.

i'm looking forward to tomorrow in some way. but not in the way i want to be. i'm looking forward to getting the train to london on my own. and i'm going to buy myself some cigarettes and i'm going to walk around the streets of london smoking in my dress & i'm going to walk past hundreds of people & i'm going to smile at them all & look up to the sky & keep smoking & walking & chatting offhandidly with my brother. & then we're gonna stop off at some shop & we'll buy ourselves some food & drink & i'll want a diet coke. & maybe we'll get chocolate bars or maybe we'll get hot savoury food & we'll walk past more people. & then the sun will start to fall & we'll go back to the tube & we'll go to the concert & maybe we'll smoke outside & i'll spray myself with spray & i'll chew my mints so the smell doesn't stick to me. & then we'll go inside & it'll be full of people but i'll be alright. & we'll wait politely as the supporting band come on & people will push & shove me, but it'll be okay. & then hole will come on & it'll be transcendingly beautiful. & when they're done i'll hopefully meet my friend from the internet & then we'll part & me & my brother will walk back to the tube & then to kings cross & then we'll walk back to his flat, & it'll be night, & we'll probably smoke again. & then we'll get back to his & he'll say he needs to go to sleep & i'll say 'okay', & i'll lay down on my fold-out bed & i'll think about everything that happened that night. & then in the morning i'll have to get up with him & his flatmate & i'll have to come home & i'll find a way to hide the cigarettes (maybe i'll leave them at his). & it'll all be over. & i'll have a bath in the morning & my parents will ask how it was & i'll smile & reply "great".

i don't know what i'm doing anymore. with my mind or my life. i know i'm different from the old me. i know i'm estranged from most people. i know i have barely any good relationships with people.

i think i'm going to flip a coin. & decide if i'm going to do a college course that will end soon & get me a job, or a better chance of getting a job than the one i'm doing now will. either that or i'll stay on at my college & just see what happens to me after that...

i'll flip the coin on thursday. during the day, maybe.

my dream.

it was really strange. at first i was sitting at home, waiting to go to my job. my dad was making me late, so i told him i'd wait to go in an hour late (incase they docked my pay). when i got there, i jumped in a swimming pool (i don't know why there was a swimming pool there.) and just swam around for a bit without a care in the world. then i remembered i had to be at work, so i got up, and went to the aisle with the shampoo (there is no ailse with shampoo at my work. i sell bedding. i was dreaming i worked in the big tesco - supermarket in town.) and saw a non-existent workfriend. we said hello, and i told him i'd been an hour late. he told me none of the managers were in, and that i should go sign in on my sign-in sheet and just pretend that i'd been there all the time.

i walked away & down the long aisle, when everything began to change. i got smaller (i'm about 5'6) and i shrunk to 4'10. i looked down at me and saw that i was wearing a red dress. i looked in the mirror to my left and thought it looked like water. i looked up to the black sky blistered with silver stars. the night was dark. and i felt wash over me, this immense feeling of contentment. and i started speaking to myself (non-verbally. in my mind.) 'you know sarah, nothing matters ultimately. don't get so frett up about these dumb things. just do what you want. none of it matters ultimately.'

i also have little flashes of different parts of the dream, when i was watching an advert about hairdye and i really truely believed in this particular hairdye brand. like i really defended it, wholeheartedly. suddenly i was blonde, and i thought to myself 'oh it doesn't suit me. however, i'm sure if i dye it again it'll look good!'

i remember seeing my aunties all gathered in my parents house conservatry. i hugged them all one-by-one as they spilled into the house.

i spoke to my nan today. she told me about how romanticly nomadic my family are. the irish, i think it's a trait of theirs. my nan said that her bestfriend asked her to move to england with her when she was 19, and despite having a career prospect and a sturdy job, she moved. away from her friends and family and normality. where she met my grandad. who had moved back and forth from england to ireland a couple of times. her bestfriend was his sister, and hearing that she'd moved over, he moved from liverpool down to london.

she told me about her friend, who had been upstairs in his room in his house, wondering where he should go for his holiday that year. and then he heard my grandad singing an irish song, and so he decided he'd go to ireland. when he went to ireland, he met his future wife, and they're still together now.

i think it's probably a sign. but i don't want to get too stressed out about the whole thing.

whatamidoing

'hey sarah, you got much planned for tomorrow?'
'no dad. i'm just gonna sit at home and die slowly.'
'... see you in the morning.'

i don't want to be like everyone else. i'm not like everyone else. i don't care about things they care about. i can't relate to them on topics they care about. i worry about different things. i think about different things. i want to crawl into a ball and cry my eyes out if it'd help me in any way shape or form but it just won't it just won't.

i don't know. maybe i'm getting depressed again. i'm always on the edge of some fucking mental breakdown it's so tiring so extremelly tiring.

i want security. i want life to pick up its pace a little. a lot. i want to stick around. i want to run.

i want people to ask me about my life and think it reads like a book. i want to actually write books but not live in my books. i want happy balances happy mediums.

i want to go back to when i was thinner. i want to go back to when i was lonely but that was okay because the world was a hand full of prospects and my future didn't seem to close in on me like a dark road without lights.

i just looked at doing a course in the army. that's testimony to how lost i feel at this very moment. i feel like kurt cobain when the army man came to his fathers home to preach to him, and "to everyone's surprise, kurt listened". and he later told his friend that although it was hell, "it was hell with a different zip code". (yes i did just type them from memory.)

i know people that thought they needed to get away grow up a bit and went into full-time work, and now they hate it. i know people that stayed in college and hated it. i know people i know people BUT I DON'T KNOW ME.

apparently it's 12.21am. i feel like a raving psychopath. a real lunatic. i want to go outside tomorrow and read in the sun but i won't because i'm scared to.

i want things to happen in my life. big exciting movements in time. i want to feel like i'm not sitting around waiting for things to happen, i want to feel like i'm on top of the world at some points instead of feeling so fucking perpetuated. i want life to hit me like a truck. i want to feel it all. i want to risk and i want i want i want.

emoitonal nomad

i'm starting to think that nobody knows me and that i'm somewhat of an emotional nomad. i don't know. sometimes i feel like there's this monster that follows me and pokes little holes inside me. little holes of emptiness or undecipherable manner that frustrates me and depresses me. and these little holes go down to my bones. i don't know. maybe i'm trying to be poetic.

i'm not sure if i want to run and hide or stay and slowly build upon a foundation and make it into a life. i'm not sure who i am. i can't even recognize my voice when i speak. i don't recognize my reflection anymore. it looks different in different mediums. when i look at my arms with my raw eyes they look different to how they look in the mirror or in photographs or in different lights. i don't know. i'm starting to sometimes think i have about four people stuck inside me and my challenge in life is to make them all happy and feel listened to, and yet at the same time try and deafen them in my head because all they do is rip me to shreds emotionally, and sometimes physically.

i hold myself back a lot. i think it's the fear side of me. the side that's scared of rejection so would rather just not risk a damn thing because well it's just easier. it's a lot less daunting and scary. i think that's the side of me that has this paranoia. that thinks i have a brain tumor. yes i do believe it on some level and on another level i'm sure i'm just being paranoid. but i can't explain it. it's terrifying. i get headaches every day. people think i'm wanting attention, i'm not. i'm genuinely scared. i think it's the same part that can visually see all these ulcers i have up and down my throat and in my stomach that i cultivate through fear. fear of everything and everyone. fear of life. fear of death. fear of everything in between. fear that one day i'm going to have to attend a situation that makes me uncomfortable without a security blanket of a friend or some sense of familiarity, or without being intoxicated.

what i want i will never have. i don't want anything. i want everything. i don't know, ignore me. listen to me for once.

i am my own worst enemy. i'm sure of that. i need someone to save me from myself. i need to stop being so intensely selfish and become more self-reliant. i need to learn to not freak out at every little thing and stop thinking everything's about me. not every person hates me. not every person is affected by me. most people aren't. i'm just a little girl without much to do or say and a lot of fear and yet a lot of hope.

"your room is not your prison. you are your prison." - sylvia plath

im a weirdo.

i don't think i'm ever gonna be that girl. the girl with a million friends on her facebook/mobile. the girl that counts down the days till friday/saturday just to go out and attract as much attention from the opposite sex just because she can. i think i'm kind of happy about that, though.

whenever i go out socializing (at night events), i always get drunk. not because i find it fun. i hate alcohol. it tastes disguisting. it makes me an idiot. and the day after it makes me eat too much. but it leaves me uninhibited. i just drink because i need to make myself looser. almost dumber. it's queer. i would never drink alone. ever.

i get paranoid people are gonna leave me. i think that's a big problem. if i think someone's going to hurt me i want to hurt them first. i hate relinquishing power like that. if someone wants to break a friendship with me i'll break it first. if someone's leaving something i'll do it first. i don't want anyone to know they have power over me, maybe. i don't know. i psychoanalyze myself all the time. it's ridiculous. & yet i know myself SO LITTLE that it's also ridiculous.

running away

maybe i will do it. i don't know. i keep romanticizing the idea in my head. whilst, at the same time, being completely crippling-ly terrified by the idea & the fact that i'm even contemplating it...

i just need a huge change in me. i just need life to take off for me.

i want to write books for the rest of my life. for the whole of my forever. but i don't want that to be all that i have. i don't want to be that writer that didn't have a personality and never got much done in her actual life because she was too busy creating things with her imagination.

i want my life to read like a book, too. i want to be able to write about everything i've experienced and put it in a form that every reader feels like they can relate to. i want people to read my book, research me and see more than 'sarah barton attended this college, then went on to this university. she has some notoriety as a hermit recluse, and has had staggeringly low relationships with people. most critics attribute this to her misanthropy, as displayed prominently, in her writing.'

i want to change my name. i like the idea of being called anne wilding. it's soft. it's kind of poetic. i need a name that sounds and looks beautiful. like sylvia plath. when i think of sylvia plath (the words) and close my eyes, i see silver, i see pale blue moons, i see trickling water... it rolls off the tongue, 'sylvia plath'. 'sarah barton', it's too aggressive. too many r's. plus the 'rt' gives in a masculine tone. anne wilding. when i say anne wilding i think of pasley skirts and sun-shine and i think of the forest and that earth smell. all things i'd like my name to be associated with.

i'm rather insular

i'm rather a lot insular, to be honest.

i don't know. some of my favourite ever things are things i can only experience on my own. like when i crawl into bed & hide under my covers, & look out my netted windows at the condensation on my window, & the way the orange light lights up each drop making it look like a sunspot shining on me. or when i simply close my eyes & just let my head think, & not have to worry about how i'm standing or walking or looking or acting but just let me be in my head. or when i lay on floors & crawl up & i can smell my perfume on my skin & my eyelashes are tickling my arms & my legs are out-streched & my toes curl & my body is just warm & i just feel this overwhelming contentment.

a lot of the time i think i see things differently to a lot of people. i like to crawl on the floor & look my dog in her eyes & try & see if i can find anything in there. or i like to lay on the floor & look at dust. or i like to stand on things and look at the top. or just see things from different angles.

i secretly think that in my past life i was a camera. but i don't know. i'm far too attached to humanity.

i love people. honestly & truely. i love watching them. i love figuring them out. i love understanding them on deep levels. but mostly they scare me. & i feel like they connect on ways that i can't understand. like they all laugh at jokes i just don't get & it gives my heart flutters & my eyes twitch & my hands play with themselves & i just want to be on my own & away from it all.

i don't notice a lot of things people do, though. people talk about how certain people do these kind of things when they're doing certain things, or how they speak, or how they walk, but i think my mind is far too consumed in self-consciousness to ever deal with that. my mind is worrying about all these things that i do...

a woman that lives across the road from me works at the same store that i do. she tried to have a bit of a gossip with me when i first started & i think she was taken aback by how lame my brain is. i didn't see her have a fight with another woman on my street. i didn't know that she & her neighbours fueded. to be honest i'd never even seen her until i started working with her & she introduced herself...

i always thought this was a quiet street. apparently not.

i'm just a quiet girl, with rose-tinted glasses, obviously. with my head in a book all the time & staring off into space.

i'm a runner & a hider, baby.

i think ever since i can remember i've romanticized 'running away'. and i still do.

when i was little... about six, i distinctly remember this story i wrote in my english class. about being a girl running away and living in the forests and living on berrys and fruit and coming out of the forest and meeting her true love and being happy.

and i wrote stories about a little girl running away and taking a packed lunch and surviving on it and meeting kind strangers who helped her in every which way they could and she lived in the city and met fantastic people and knew things that other people would never know because they wouldn't take the chance to.

and as soon as school had finished, almost two years ago (fuck!), i began writing a story about a girl running away...

i just like the idea of a blank page. i always have. i always liked the idea of leaving school at sixteen, getting a red three door car, having boxes and boxes of books in the car boot, driving somewhere, anywhere, finding a crappy apartment, working a crappy job, meeting great people, smoking cigarettes, being my own person and just being happy...

and i don't think my ambition has matured much from that point. maybe it's just something i should do. i mean, god knows doing what i'm doing now isn't making me happy.

a lot of the time i don't think there's a place for me in this world. i find it so painstakingly difficult to relate to people in real life that i have to rely on relating to fictional characters.

and the two characters i've ever related to the most ran away when they found themselves in a situation like i'm in right now. just a myopic monolithic grey mass. of nothing. there's no reason to stick around no reason to do anything. everything's so mediocre. i just feel like i want my life to speed up a lot.

but i also think i'm secretly never going to be happy

snow snow snow

fuck snow is so depressive. when i was little i thought it was really cool because it got me out of school. now it's just awful. it's just cold & wet & irksome..

i hate my headache. i hate that i can't write. or concentrate on anything today.

i'm not sure why i have this blog. i should just write on wordpad or something seeing as i have zero followers and i want zero followers.

(i thought i saw a plane crash tonight. i hear these noises, like a really really obnoxiously loud motor, so i looked out my window onto the street & saw nothing. i looked into the sky & i saw a plane flying - what looked like - too low. i was sure it was slowly descending from the sky into the distance & i don't live close to an airport at all. i was panicked. i didn't know if i should go downstairs & ring the police or something. i didn't know what to do but watch it slowly move further away & closer to the ground. i waited with bated breath for a crash that i prayed against. nothing happened. there's nothing about it online, so i guess it was just me being paranoid. yet again.

i always stare out my window. when i was little i picked the furthest away house & i always used to write stories about getting there. or living there. how adjacent my life would be if i lived there... how perfect it'd be. it sounds crazy, but i tried to look for it last year, & i couldn't see it. it's like it vanished. maybe it was never there. maybe i made it up. like 99% of my childhood memories.

i hate looking at the sky. it makes me feel like there's a blue blanket over all of our heads & i just freak out, because i haven't believed for so long that any of this is real. this 'life'. it's just a figment of my imagination. you're just a figment of my imagination. the stigmantization of 'i' is just a part of my imagination... i just feel like the sky IS limited, like everything has an end. everything's a circle. nothing exists without an opposite...

i want a circle tattooed on my wrist.)

i wish i could go back

i miss how everything used to be a little. (a lot).

i used to be so self-righteous, so self-reliant in so many ways. so ambitious. so driven. so clear with my drive in life. so sure of myself.

or maybe i just like to think that's how i used to be. i'm not sure. i remember i loathed myself. i couldn't even look in the mirror. i hunched over for years and it's fucked my back up, because i hated taking up any space, or anyone looking at me ever.

i mean, i've always despised myself, but i used to have a clearer belief that there was a real reason for my existence.

now i'm not so sure...

it just feels like every road i go down is a dead-end, and i can't fit into anywhere. it sounds romantic. it's not. outcasted people are really different than me. so are popular people. and 'normal' people. i'm just a strange little hybrid maybe. but in a really really lame way.

i kind of want to move away. up to the north, to yorkshire or something. or maybe up to wales, to one of their little towns. maybe down near the sea, like bournemouth or something. maybe i should go to scotland, edinburgh. maybe i should move to the countryside of ireland, cork or something.

I DON'T KNOW.

all i can think of right now is that film 'ghost world'. and how enid (thora birch) runs away at the end. and how similar her story is to mine in a lot of ways, except everything enid lost in a summer i lost over two years.

i'm at my second college and it sucks. it really does. i just know it's another dead end in my life. i have no hope of a job. i just don't have anything to stick around for, plainly.

i just want a new blank page. but i don't think it'll help me at all really.

i think i need to get the fuck over myself most of the time. haha.

i fear fear

i really want to know when it was that i became such a nervous person.

it feels like all i can do anymore is have this horrible fluttering feeling in my stomache, an ominous overcast of something bad coming. and even though i know nothing's going to happen it won't go away.

i just worry that nothing's going to get better i guess. i worry that i'm gonna be stuck like this forever. stuck indoors, scared to go outside a lot because i worry about meeting people that i know but haven't seen in so long, and it's always really awkward.

i think i need to move out of here really badly. i want to move somewhere where there's more open space and foilage, and where people are friendly but not obtrusive, and there are no nightclubs but there are friendly pubs, and everything's within walking distance, and animals run around and there are farms and things are natural.

i think i'm just scared of how everything is. i'm gripping onto everything because i'm scared that i'll be left with nothing. i hate closing myself off from situations because i know that deep down all i want to do is tear away from people and be on my own, even though that's the worse thing in the world for me. i'm such a paradox.

i'm regressing in every which way. when i was little i used to eat as much as i could to try and fill some lonliness. to try and falter some flutter of my heart. and i keep doing it again. i'm not eating obsessively, just indulgently. and i really hate it. i need to pull myself together. and quickly.

i don't really know why i'm writing this to be honest. i allocated myself some time today to force myself to write and i just can't. i can't write any fiction right now. i really hope that this is just a one-off and not another creative dry-patch because nothing's going right as of right now and i can't help but feel i'm barely gripping onto everything with bloody fingertips.