(no subject)
So where the fuck are my millions of other entries?
I think starting a journal is a good thing for me, being an individual and all.
Let's begin then.
Yesterday I went to mum's. She called me just after I finished 'Holding the Man' and I was choking on tears.
"Were you asleep?" She asked.
"Yeah mum."
I didn't want to tell her I'd been crying. Too much effort. I said I'd come over, and she came and picked me up. Before she did, I cleaned my room. Soon my house will be virtually empty. I'm excited now, but I can't help feeling a bit worried. Cause I like having people around too.
Anyway. Mum bought me a ticket to dizzee rascal! It was amazing. And she said I could chose another concert!
Then I went outside and saw Stray. He's this cat that's come around to our house for YEARS. I don't know...you see, mum fucking loves cats. She used to collect strays and abused kittens and bring them home almost everyday when she was young in Lebanon, but she speaks about them in a devaluing way sometimes. i.e. "this one cost me $500." and I say "mum, they're fucking living feeling things. they shouldn't be viewed as financial burdens." I think that's gross.
Stray was limping and it looked like he was crying because he had en eye infection. So I said. "mum, fuck a ticket. can we take him to the vet instead?" and she said "yes. but I'm not touching him." and I smiled, because I like touching him. So I did. and we put him in a cage and sent him off. Then we went to Greenacre to get Lebanese food. FUCKING JESUS. We're geniouses. We just are.
Then we started drinking. Long story short, we got so drunk. We had so many tequila shots and beers and vodkas. Before I knew it, this was our conversation;
"Most girls I know are cautious about STI's. Like with my one night stands, I don't go down on the girls. I don't know them."
Mum nods and finds that admirable. Then she confesses sexual truths, and the differences in gay and straight sex. Best conversation ever.
She's cool. It's nice that she was so uncool 1.5 decades of my life, cause this revelation of amazing mum feels like a massive reward or something. Like we did something right. Here's your present for it. Kind of thing.
There are some things I can't stand.
I hate when font is this size.
I hate when the end of my sentences don't look good. You know. When a text message is like this
hi. how are you going?
im good, youre sexy
let's have beer, okay bye
x
how the 'x' is on the end like that. I like it when it all fits perfectly. Everytime I send a message, I check my 'sent' folder and look at how it's presented. Sometimes I'm really happy with it. Other times it looks fucking foul. I wish I'd never sent it.
I usually don't like when sentences have an odd number of letters. I count them in my head really fast. Particularly when someone says something, and it's quite short, like "Hey tan, how's shit?" I go 12345678 as quick as I can, counting all the letters. When they're odd, I sometimes count quotation marks or exclamation if they ask me loudly, just to make it even. It's fair.
I hate fergi. I don't know why. I can't stand her. I never have been able to.
I hate crushes. You know. There are crushes like, "oh fuck, there's that girl. act subtle." cause you're madly attracted to her. then there's that other crush that goes up a few percentages when you've actually been with someone, and you're a bit interested in being with them again. They're so dangerous. As soon as I'm there, I find a friend, and yell "DISCOURAGE ME!" but no one ever fucking does!
They're dumb friends. They say "I see no reason why you should be discouraged?" and I say "DISCOURAGE ME BEFORE I KILL YOU."
Still. They don't. But I truly want to be.
I want them to say.
"Listen Tania, you're going to be destroyed or destroy. It's not worth it. Just shut up, relax, and go to the sly."
But I don't want to.
I love life today. And yesterday I did too. Everything is amazing. Fuck. You know when you're young and suicidal and you think there's no way life could ever be good. Even really simple things, like waking up when YOU want, eating IF you want to. That's me now. I wake up relatively early without an alarm or screaming mum. I smile. Every morning I'm happy. And then Yoshimi's there. We hang out. I put music on, or wee, and lay down again. I think
"Fuck, do I have work?"
and 5 out of 7 days, I don't. And I still survive on minimal income. I just don't buy heaps of ridiculous things that I salivate for. And then Anna is usually around, and we casually walk through the park and have coffee and talk about sex and music. And then I do something amazing. Like ride a park. Or find a lost dog. Or get invited out to something. Friends are everywhere, and it's so beautiful. It's such a supportive environment. I feel like I can go anywhere, and people will be there asking me inside their homes or wanting lunch or asking me to the beach. But it's never repetitive. Completely spontaneous. Bus rides to no where. Ladies baths, but I never swim. The waves on the rocks make my heart sink every time. But I put my feet in the water, because it's the only way I can be with James, like his dad said. I cry every time I'm at the beach. Should I? Sometimes I wonder. Wait. All the time. Are you allowed to think about dead people? No one ever asks me, and I never ask to talk about it.
It feels like all of last year was a massive ball of sadness. Thinking about all that happened in the time frame of 16 months is ridiculous. I almost can't believe it when I sit down and think hard and go "This happened, and then that. And fuck, then that!" How the hell did I do it?
My life feels like it picked up in...hm. August maybe. Yeah, I think then. Or September?
Anyway. I get real cautious when I talk to people. Even my best friends. Sometimes Anna walks into my room and I'm thinking about things and crying, and I close off. I shorten answers and she thinks I'm patronising her, which removes the remainder of my lingering energy. But I understand why she'd think that. I just don't know how to say "Well Anna, brace yourself, because today I'm really sad and I think I'm going to cry in private if that's cool." I know she knows things about my life. But um. Yeah. She hesitates when comforting me. How far she should actually go, she doesn't know. It's hard to know with me. I'm pathetic. I never know what I want. Do I want hugs? Do I want someone to talk to me? Do I want to call someone and talk to them? I don't know. So I don't know what to expect.
Maybe someone with control, to sit down with me and say
"So, your best friend died. How the fuck does that make you inside every day?"
I fucking miss her. Fuck.
It hurts.