Slipping into old habits.
I have gotten so used to the 'restore from saved draft' thing,
that when it loses everything you've written,
and you can't get it back,
I get even more stressed than before.
And you feel like whatever you were saying was so important,
that when you can't remember it,
it's mighty frustrating.
But then, it probably wasn't that important at all.
It never really is, is it?
I have been so clumsiful today.
I nearly broke Hollys phone.
And I bought a travelcard, with my last money, literally, and it was expensive.
And before I got a chance to use it, it was gone.
And I spilt an undrunken glass of orange juice all over everywhere.
And I spilt an undrunken mug of coffee all over everywhere else.
And I kicked an ashtray over my floor.
And I dropped the milk bottle when I was re-making the mug of coffee.
And, and
oh dear.
Lucy Mottram is a slaag ( :
Notting Hill::
The policeman on the left doesn't have a face, like in the ring.
The Holly face.
I have a float hat!!
School is so,
strained at the moment.
Work, friendships, early mornings.
It's like everyone is pretending.
And everyone is avoiding.
And hoping.
And, nervous, in a way.
And everyone is talking about it in individual conversations,
but it's like, when we are all together,
no one wants to notice that anythings wrong.
I can feel an arguement brewing.
But I'm not sure what it's about.
I hate it when what you used to call comfortable silence,
becomes an awkward silence.
One where you're straining to find something to say,
and all you can come up with is some sort of small talk.
About how hot it is, or how much work you have to do, or how tired you are.
I hate it because it's with the wrong people.
The people who you could talk to about anything&everything.
Or just sit with.
The funny thing is,
I can't decide if I want to go back or not.
Home is so,
strained at the moment.
[Also].
It's all pineckity,
and trying to do the parenting.
And trying to understand,
without ever really listening.
And, constant contradiction.
I hate that.
But, I don't know what going back would be.
I can't remember anymore.
I want to be there again.
I want to be in Brighton now.
I want to be in France tommorrow.
[I'm excited!]
I look like a munter.
(What's a munter?)
15 days.
I don't want to go back to that,
But it's already exactly the same.
"& she`ll fall alsleep with
her headphones on ;
mascara running down her face
-listening to a song that
reminds her of him."
I have been bumping into so many old faces recently.
[& hiding from a lot of would-be-bumping-into-people ha]
It's weird.
I miss all the faces from summer.
The faces from two weeks ago,
I miss Gabby.
Now that she's actually left school,
and we know she's not coming back,
it feels so different to her just, missing a day or two.
Because it's so definate.
He has the bluest eyes I have ever met.
My eyes always seem to be shut, or looking in the wrong direction.
Why did you start speaking to me,
confusing me all over again?
♥
"And there's always that little bit of whore,
in every girl when it comes
to that one special guy".
Psychology is making me analyse people more&more.
Art is the one subject where I prefer the homework to the lessons.
I like being able to do what I want, not what we are being told to do& watched over as we do it.
French, is the most difficult thing I have ever tried to do.
Hmm.
I have been telling so many almost-strangers-friends things about me,
which I would hate for a lot of my I-can-tell-you-anything-friends to ever find out.
It's like, I mind about the wrong people knowing things.
Or I've just gotten confused about which people are which.
How much would you love to be a bitch for a day?
The biggest bitch to ever walk the planet.
And just tell everyone exactly what you were thinking.
Tell them everything you never before dared to say.
I would love it.
But I would feel too guilty afterwards.
It is Kate and my plan.
Not that it will ever happen.
But we can still imagine.
I have so many random thoughts bumping into eachother in my head.
I can't put them into an order.
And I can't concentrate on just one.
And they are confusing me,
because there are trillions of happy, excited, content ones there.
And there are also the other thoughts.
I write about the not so happy ones,
because you want to get them out.
But the happy thoughts,
they are the ones you want to keep in your head for as long as possible.
Hold on to them.
And writing them down is like a little bit of them going away.
That sounds silly.
I can't wait for this weekend.
( :
xo