the more you let yourself be treated as stupid, the easier it is to believe.

butter kissed

i havent acted out in a while...

i had a choice between sensible and brave and i chose brave because i would rather learn something new and be piss poor.



it is going to be a six month non-stop struggle.

wilde thing

Pt. III, st. 29
And the wild regrets, and the bloody sweats,
None knew so well as I:
For he who lives more lives than one
More deaths than one must die.

I reckon one of the useful things to learn is how to become less self absorbed and more self aware.

bored and ignored

imagine a deer drunk in headlights,
hi.

everybody looked so weary
but we still managed to laugh

hello, i dont fit in.

i really really miss my cat.

on leaving university

I thought I would feel more. I thought there would be plenty of leaving parties and last hugs goodbye, but there wasn't. People just started to fade away, and I continued to go to work everyday, completley unaffected.

Perhaps it will hit me when September comes, and I realise that we will never sit in a classroom together again, or make a trip to the local pub in between lectures, or laugh and share hangovers and stupid in-jokes. I think that because I am not leaving myself, it doesn't feel like such a huge step. It is nice to return from a long shift and think "well that's me done then, goodnight."

Just before I left for University, someone told me that if I walked out of their front door we would no longer be friends. I called their bluff and left, and we didn't speak for a year. When my Mum found out I was walking home in the middle of the night she came and picked me up and for the first time in our lives, we had a heart-to-heart. She told me what was on her mind, and I returned the favour. Mum said that she thought uni would be good for me and she knew I would be fine because I had always adapted really well to change. I imagined myself to be someone who would find change hard, but over the years I have realised that it affects me so little that it is almost worrying.

I like to be able to fret about tiny things, huge things just seem to happen. I suppose it will be the tiny things I miss most too; Coffee with Chris, laughing with Claire, having a cigarette with Joe and wondering why we weren't closer. Bumping into Alexia and Laurena when we were all late for lectures, and always getting something out of even a really small conversation with them. Sitting on the rock while the lads smoked roll ups and let me join in their crude and hilarious conversations as an honourary man. I'll miss Georgia, because I don't think I will ever meet another person like her.

So yes, the tiny things will creep up on me and demand I feel their absence, but nothing really feels any different.

sometimes all you can do is cover your walls in chalk.

last time i looked in the mirror i was a naive little girl with colourful hair who was scared and excited to be going to university.

now i wake with swollen eyes to panic about council tax before i can get back to sleep,

i work 16 hour shifts not only because i really need the money but because i have nothing better to do and like having people to talk to.

i cry quickly without noise and on my own.

(people could make the fuss i dont want to cause and tell me everything will be ok,
but then i would just whisper you don't know that
and they would say i was only trying to help.)

i dont want people to see me as a weakling and crying in public is a bit awkward really. besides, ive written worse on a blog, what is anybody going to do?

my whole day is governed by trivial calculations... how much money do i have for food, how much would cheaper broadband cost split between two, how much am i saving on a bedsit with bills included if the rent is extra, how many calories have i had, how much change does that man need, shit... how many calories have i had again? how much is a cappucino sachet worth if i buy a box of ten, how much is that saving if i stop drinking takeout coffee in town, how many calories have i had NOW, how much is the bus home, how many hours sleep will i get before a ten hour shift if i walk, how many calories will i fail to burn if i dont, and on and on and on and ive always fucking hated maths.

the only thing holding me together is the knowledge that i am trying my best, i KNOW i am.

i could fail and end up jobless and homeless, (and every week until christmas it will be at the front of my mind) but at least i am trying to live in the real world and not taking a step backwards just because it would be convenient.

when i look in the mirror now, i remind myself of the part in slaughterhouse 5 when the old lady says to her son,

"when did i get so old?"