never been a better way than getting right out of this town.
i don't like to be negative.
there was a fire alarm last night/this morning. 3:45 fucking am. we've had about ten since i moved in here, because the alarms are really sensitive. but that's the first middle-of-the-night one we've had. not fucking impressed, i can tell you. by the time we were allowed back in it was 4:15 and i was too awake to get back to sleep. it took a couple of hours. the fire alarm went off again, i'm not sure what time. 7ish, perhaps. i woke up enough to sit up and begin pulling on my jeans, then it stopped. thank god. i went back to sleep and didn't wake up until five minutes before my lecture started. 'fuck it' i thought, and went right back to sleep. old habits die hard.
since i woke up at 1:30pm, i've been in my flat. oh, i got dressed and put on some makeup (i'm too proud to venture out of my room looking the way i do barefaced), but it's all the same. in the flat, doing nothing except the bare minimal amount of schoolwork and far more hollyoaks than is healthy. this is how every day is, every night is. monday night hannah invited me to watch a film, which was fun. i learned kat feels the same way i do, but i don't think it's as bad. maybe it's easier for me to handle because i've had this for as long as i remember, but it doesn't make it any less depressing. being resigned to your fate isn't the same as accepting it. i have no friends. i have no friends. i have no friends. in my classes, there are people i know to say hello to, a few that i can chat with. ditto when i'm out on campus and i see people i know. but there's nobody i can make arrangements with, no-one to come and knock on my door and hang out, nobody to go out with. maybe it comes over time. maybe everyone is this way at university. but i don't think so; from where i'm sitting most other people here seem to be having a great time and never really be at a loss for what to do or where to go. i'm doing my best. i talk to people in lectures, at least i try to. i leave my room door open whenever i'm in, in the hope that my flatmates will come and talk. sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. i talk to people on msn, but i don't get much reply. i msg people on facebook in the hope of sparking some kind of continuous communication or friendship, but i don't know how well it's going.
i hate talking about this. i hate looking like exactly what i am. i hate it even more when people are unsympathetic and play upon what i already know: it's my own fault. i should be out there having fun, i know. i should make the effort to talk to complete strangers, i know. i should get over my self-consciousness, my shyness, my anxiety; i know. when i'm bored and alone, i should go down to the bar, i know. no matter that i don't know enough people to have a gurantee of somebody to talk to there, no matter that i look and feel like a twat standing around on my own. i should just get over myself and be normal, sociable, better. i know. i know. i fucking know.
i keep telling myself that it's only week three, and that things will get better over time; but then the cynical, realistic side of myself counteracts with it's week three and you don't even have any friends yet, what are you going to do? sit in your room all year? i really really hope my optimistic side wins out, even though it's twice as weak as the other.
there was a fire alarm last night/this morning. 3:45 fucking am. we've had about ten since i moved in here, because the alarms are really sensitive. but that's the first middle-of-the-night one we've had. not fucking impressed, i can tell you. by the time we were allowed back in it was 4:15 and i was too awake to get back to sleep. it took a couple of hours. the fire alarm went off again, i'm not sure what time. 7ish, perhaps. i woke up enough to sit up and begin pulling on my jeans, then it stopped. thank god. i went back to sleep and didn't wake up until five minutes before my lecture started. 'fuck it' i thought, and went right back to sleep. old habits die hard.
since i woke up at 1:30pm, i've been in my flat. oh, i got dressed and put on some makeup (i'm too proud to venture out of my room looking the way i do barefaced), but it's all the same. in the flat, doing nothing except the bare minimal amount of schoolwork and far more hollyoaks than is healthy. this is how every day is, every night is. monday night hannah invited me to watch a film, which was fun. i learned kat feels the same way i do, but i don't think it's as bad. maybe it's easier for me to handle because i've had this for as long as i remember, but it doesn't make it any less depressing. being resigned to your fate isn't the same as accepting it. i have no friends. i have no friends. i have no friends. in my classes, there are people i know to say hello to, a few that i can chat with. ditto when i'm out on campus and i see people i know. but there's nobody i can make arrangements with, no-one to come and knock on my door and hang out, nobody to go out with. maybe it comes over time. maybe everyone is this way at university. but i don't think so; from where i'm sitting most other people here seem to be having a great time and never really be at a loss for what to do or where to go. i'm doing my best. i talk to people in lectures, at least i try to. i leave my room door open whenever i'm in, in the hope that my flatmates will come and talk. sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. i talk to people on msn, but i don't get much reply. i msg people on facebook in the hope of sparking some kind of continuous communication or friendship, but i don't know how well it's going.
i hate talking about this. i hate looking like exactly what i am. i hate it even more when people are unsympathetic and play upon what i already know: it's my own fault. i should be out there having fun, i know. i should make the effort to talk to complete strangers, i know. i should get over my self-consciousness, my shyness, my anxiety; i know. when i'm bored and alone, i should go down to the bar, i know. no matter that i don't know enough people to have a gurantee of somebody to talk to there, no matter that i look and feel like a twat standing around on my own. i should just get over myself and be normal, sociable, better. i know. i know. i fucking know.
i keep telling myself that it's only week three, and that things will get better over time; but then the cynical, realistic side of myself counteracts with it's week three and you don't even have any friends yet, what are you going to do? sit in your room all year? i really really hope my optimistic side wins out, even though it's twice as weak as the other.