Hahahaha

I've fucking lost the plot!!!!!

Welcome to the UK

That Beck song lasted the whole way home.
Maybe because I walked fast. Or maybe because it was supposed to.
I'm getting the hell outta this place.
I need to find my love.
And until I can get outta this place, i'll use whatever chemicals I need to simulate this.
Fuck this.

...

COME ON LIFE! I AM TIRED OF BEING IN LIMBO!

By saying something stupid like "I like you"

Just something in passing that my mom said to me yesterday in the car. That I'm not supposed to be here. She has known that ever since I flatlined as a baby. And that she is scared of the powers that I have hidden inside of myself.

Blood donation

The draining of the blood must be marked. Purely because of the weird state that I am in.
AND I KNOW HOW FUCKING INSANE I WILL SOUND, SO DON'T EVEN GO THERE SISTER
But I could feel the blood, the life, draining, through my arm and out into oblivion. I reached a wonderful meditative state. I placed myself in Ben's body, for all the times that he has had to lie there, 'attached'.
And since coming home. I am very depressed. As if the strength has also left me. My mind is racing at a million miles an hour, yet my body, is in a state of serene slow motion.
I think I'm enjoying this.
I hope that my blood does not carry any of 'me' in it, to transfuse into somebody else. That would be horrible for them.

NO WALLOWING

This evening. Precisely 30 minutes of violin practice. One full chapter of my book in the newly appointed reading chair. Time to get my crap ready for work tomorrow and put a film on.
Done.

For him x

I listen to that piano place you once played me in my room.
Sat by the window, with the raindrops falling upon it like the tears on my face.
And I twist my hair around and around my finger, whilst every goose pimple on my body stands up as high as it can.
And I miss you.
Again. And Again. And Again.

The tidying of the room.

I tell you what.
This constant cleaning and tidying of my room has made me feel wonderful. With my new speakers so I can hear my beautiful music, and my new reading chair, with all the accessories.
I know that most will critisise the 'area' in the corner of my room as me wallowing in the past, but like the shrine to all things holy next to my bed. It is a part of who I am. And if i have to. When I am ready. I will remove that too.
But this is me. A new person. The girl with the lovely space to chill in. The girl who plays violin. The girl who reads far too much and drinks too much tea. The girl who stays up all night making rubbish music on her midi keyboard.
This is me. And I can feel it.

Fuck this.

Everything is a fad. And a work of fiction.
A day, turning into a night.
A piece of paper blown into the wind.
And once you realise that.
You're free to grow old and die.

A silent prayer

To whomever has the time and patience to hear me.
I pray for he who is to undergo surgery later today.
Even though I know that he does not want my prayers, but that doesn't mean that I can't ask;
for a safe, and speedy, and textbook procedure.
The road to recovery has been long for him. And he deserves to be shown the light at the end of all this horridness. His happiness.
Amen.

Soloist Inspired

I will never give up

As I turned off her light and closed her door

I love my little sister so much. One day, i'll make up to her all these years that i've missed.

I'm a dick

I keep thinking about that evening, telling Tamar:
"Ben keeps getting upset that he can't afford to get me much for Christmas and I just. I can't get it across to him that I don't care if he gets me nothing at all! Just spending Christmas with him when I didn't think I would, it means the world to me. I love him much more than any material thing."

I really walked into that one didn't I?

For you

I'm trying to do what you want me to do.
I'm trying to get over you. I'm trying to hate you. I'm trying move on.

But I can't.
Because I love you.
What I would give to just be balled up next to you with our fingers interlocking.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.

Ongoing additions

1) As Ben said. Listen to music that inspires me, not reminds me.
2) Make sure that you tell everyone just what they mean to you.
3) Do something every single day. Even if it's tiny. And write about it. You're going to uni in September, and you need to make the most of all this wonderful free space.
4) Widen my friend net
5) Read everything
6) Watching everything
7) Lose my tummy and grow my hair so that i'm happy and confident in how I look.

New Years Resolution

I finally figured it out;
That kinda, do something everyday that scares you. Or rather. Just don't hold back. If I wanna do something, I'll just go ahead and do it. Life's too short.
There. I thought that was quite a good one don't you?

Dial up

I’m going to have to back date these entries if and when I get any internet.
Star date 2040.
Lack of internet means that I can’t cause myself anymore heartbreak. But it also means that I am completely and utterly alone during the day. Which means that my brain is free to wreak wrath upon itself. God. FUCK. I miss you. I miss you.
I want to start writing. I keep dreaming that I should, but I have no starting point. I keep dreaming that I have these fantastic ideas, but they never materialise when I wake up. As much as I joke about ‘The Black man and the African Grey’, I need something serious. Maybe a trashy romance route?
I’m just gonna eat. And read my new book.

My new American hutch

I love you. So, so much.
All I want, is for us to love one another. To be with one another.
I don't want to be one of those girls that has a million different 'The Ones'. Flirting between absolute happiness and heartbreak.
I'm sure that my parents would admit to you that as much as they 'love' me, they never were very good at showing it. Which has made it so hard for me to learn to 'love' another, because I've never had the example set for me.
But my God, I love you. And I know, I know that I fuck up. I fuck up, because with each day, I'm learning. I'm learning to be forgiving. I'm learning not to be such a bitch. I'm learning that there are two of us, and we must take turns in getting what we want, and to be happy just because you are happy.
I love your family. I love having two older sisters. I love having a Dad that shows me that he does care for me. And I love having a mum that I can sit on the kitchen table with, and drink a glass of wine with, and pour my heart out to. This is new. This is learned. And all I need is a kick up the bum every now and again.
What was never meant to be was your illness. It was not us. You were my lifeline after my last boyfriend really took me to the cleaners. And I hope that I was your lifeline when you got poorly. Whether it was the fact of me being there with you, or the fact that you could take out your sadness on me. You were my real childhood sweetheart. The one that I would gush about to our children, how much I 'fancied' you when we were at school together and how I thank God as much as I can that he brought us together.
I love you so, so, achingly much sweetheart.

X

I keep thinking that if anyone were to read this, then they’d think I were crazy if I didn’t censor what I was really thinking.
But i’m not crazy. I’m just, i’m in love. And i’m heartbroken.
I miss his lips. His beautiful, full lips that were so soft, even when they looked chapped. And his beautiful soft skin. The way it smelt. Sometimes of cocoa butter. Sometimes, just of him. His blue jeans on his neck. His stubble that irritated my top lift, but I wouldn’t have changed it for the world. His kisses. His beautiful kisses. His huge, beautiful eyes that were always watching me. That I could get lost in for hours.
I miss him so, so much.

A request to the DJ

I have now changed 'Mad World' to Faith.
Not the Limp Bizkit version, the original George Micheal.

Quandry

I've been keeping my head down.
I don't want to hear other people's opinions on my situation, because i'll only disagree or get upset. So I haven't asked, and I haven't searched.
But today, I stupidly let my guard down. I read an email that my nan had sent to my mom. Only to be nosey because she always makes some remark about my mood and excessive spending, yada yada.
And as I scanned through, I read, 'I hope that you can convince Kim that Ben is a dead loss....'.
I stopped reading after that. It was enough. One bullet usually is.
I just. I can't figure out if it upsets me because deep down, I know she's right.
Or because I know she's dead wrong.