I'm the luckiest girl in the world.
It's really that simple.
You may be wondering why. If so I have this to say:
Walk a mile in my shoes.
Then do it with the friends around you that surround me.
You'll understand.
Life is this big squishy ball of horridness. Everyone who has been on this earth long enough knows that. It's a hard lesson for some, but it's one we all eventually learn.
Life is often poop.
But there's this strange phenomenon with life - in that the poop breeds diamonds and hearts of gold. There are these amazing people who stand against the tide of hate and pain.
People like Geraldine - who puts up with things that you would never imagine, and yet she never complains about them and is always this beacon of hope and happiness. She doesn't do it in any particularly 'standing out' way, it's just this gentle comforting presence that she presents. I'm so grateful that she's my house mate.
People like Libor - who there really aren't enough words to praise. He's always there, for everyone, and he never lets any of the strain show to the world. He's not just my best friend, he's my role model, my guardian angel, my knight in shining armour and sincerely the most amazing person I've ever met. How I'll ever cope with out having him always by me after this year I don't know.
People like Kaydie - who will storm with you, test you, reflect the worst you there is; but forgive you for it and love you anyway. We may not be good to each other, but she's one of the biggest parts of my life and one of the biggest parts of my heart too. For everything I've ever done or said to hurt her - there aren't enough ways to say sorry. For everything she's ever put up with, done for me, and stayed with me through I'm so grateful and I love her for.
People like DJ - who fucks the rest of your life up at times, but manages somehow to make everything okay with something that isn't even supposed to be funny but makes you laugh away all the problems. He's cared for me through the third worst time in my life, and let me vent my anger against the whole world on him. I tell him to go away, and he stays anyway out of the knowledge that I do actually need him in some inexplicable way, and continues to provide me with love and support no matter what I do or say.
People like Helen - who is so strong and sensible, who exerts her will in a way that makes me both admire her and be proud of her. She not only puts up with my insanity, she encourages me, and provokes me when I need it, kicks me up the arse and sends me to bed when I'm up too late. She is always ready with a quip, joke, or kind word; no matter the situation she makes me feel better just by being her. I admire her so much for both her commitment and her ability to completely disregard her own obsession (especially for her friends). She never sees how amazing she is, or how great a friend she is, but I'm so lucky to have found a friend like her, who I understand and who understands me without needing explanation. I wouldn't have made it through this past month without her, and I certainly wouldn't have had such an awesome time if she hadn't been there laughing along with me. For the laughs, the hugs, the insanity and the strength she shares so generously with me I am, and always will be, unspeakably grateful.
People like Jodie - who are brave and active and always there, no matter what. She cares more about you and how you're feeling than about herself - even when she's just come out of surgery!! It has been so easy to become close to her because of how much we have in common and how much I wish I were more like her. She's so beautiful, both on the outside and the inside, and I think of her as a little sister I never asked for but was blessed with anyway.
The last month or two have been the road to hell. I've been blind, stupid, hateful and just plain horrid. Welcome to the road to recovery.
This was going to be a blog all about how you don't need to have a boyfriend/girlfriend when you have someone so special in your life already... but I'm even luckier than people who have that - because I have so many special people in my life. The people above are the people who are closest to me at the moment - but there are so many who are almost as close. Abby and Erik who were there for me all through first year, who I've drifted from lately (which I'm sorry for), my friends back home - TJ, Sasha, Stephanie, Kayleigh, Dave, Kiran, Beth, Lucy, Sarah, even Liam, Arron and Luke - who I don't see very often at all anymore, but who are still so much a part of my heart, so much a part of who I am; my friends that I'm just really starting to make - Dan, Russel, Vanessa, Stan, Indre, Sonam, even Charlotte, Chris, Dave... - who probably don't realise just how much they already mean to me. Then there's Lisa and Ellie... so many people to make this life so wonderful!
It's like they push the poop out (okay, didn't mean for it to sound that much like the end of a digestive system...) and just leave the shiny golden diamond encrusted world.
Is it any wonder I live for my friends?
They're what make this life worth living, they're what makes up my entire world - I'd do anything for them.
My love, by any other word, would be as strong.
I know I don't have a boyfriend or a girlfriend... but if you went by a more innocent (less sexual) definition, then I would have both. Several times over.
These people, these wonderful people, who have somehow managed to stumble into my life, have my heart. I love them so entirely, that it's hard to imagine life without them (either before or after this moment). It feels like some of them have been with me always.
I hope none of them ever try to change who they are - because, to me, they are perfect. The only thing I would change about any of them (if I could) would be to make them happy.
So, my mission in life will forever be to make those special people happy.
May you always be happy with the special people in your life.
Blessed be xx
Saturday, 27 November 2010
Friday, 26 November 2010
Rage, rage against the dying of the light
There's a word that I've been contemplating, and if you're up to date with my blog you'll understand why.
"Best friend"
What is a best friend?
What does it mean to be one?
Why do we have them?
What makes one friend better than another?
The questions are flying round my head like you wouldn't believe.
Now, being an English Literature student and loving the etymology of words, I break it down into its components:
"best" and "friend"
Best means to excel the most, to be better than all others.
Friend... friend is more tricky. I had a boyfriend once who classed everyone they knew as a 'friend' and the people they were really close to as 'mates'... I was the opposite. So what is a friend?
Well, this is the definition I've come up with. What I mean when I say friend:
A friend is a person who you enjoy spending time with, who knows you to a larger degree than a person who has only just met you, who you help when they need you, who is there for you when you need them. Someone to spend your time with and enjoy talking to, and who you trust.
Ergo a best friend must be:
A person you enjoy spending all your time with, or whom you enjoy spending time with above anyone else. A person who knows you more than any other. A person who you always help, and always want to help, no matter how big or small the problem. A person who is always there for you, even when you don't know that you need them. Someone to spend all your time with and who you enjoy talking to on any and all levels. Someone you trust with your life and who trusts you, in return, with theirs.
That would seem succinct enough - yes?
So why are the questions still there?
Why do I continue to analyse and question this definition?
Is there something I left out? I'm not sure. Love maybe?
See, the reason that I'm questioning this is because I'm trying to pigeon hole my friendships. Trying to re-clarify and re-classify them according to this model. And, okay - yes - there is a certain friend who I'm trying to work out if the term was applied to without credit.
Has anyone ever said to you "You're supposed to be my friend!"? How justified do you think they were when they said that?
See, the question I'm really getting at is not 'were they justified in saying that you weren't acting like a friend at the time?', but 'does the term 'friend' come with a level of attachment that must always be upheld?'
For instance, can a friendship be broken temporarily... or is it something we are committed to from the instant of forming it until it is completely broken? Also, are we committed to satisfying our own definition of 'friendship' or must we be committed to satisfying theirs?
This is such a hard question for me at the moment, because I am definitely the sort of person who says "this is me, take me as I am or don't bother." but at the same time I feel the need to satisfy everyone. That's where all my problems come from I suppose.
Dad put it nicely once and said that I just had "too big a heart"... but really it comes from the need to be appreciated and liked, I think. So in actual fact it comes from being selfish. Wow, confusing.
But look at it this way: Making people happy makes you happy.Therefore, going out of your way to make someone happy will make you happy. Therefore, going out of your way to make someone happy is going out of your way to make yourself happy.
If the premise is correct, the conclusion must also logically be correct.
I don't know if my premise is correct though....
Going back to the previous phrase of "you're supposed to be my friend" : can it be said that fulfilling ones side of the friendship is reliant on their satisfying the other? For instance, many a time when I've either heard, said, or over-heard those words - the rebuttal has been along the lines of "you started it" or "so are you"... implying that the person doing the blaming has started - or at least partaken in - the breaking of the silent, invisible promise of friendship.
There seem to be so many expectations bound up in friendship... and some people who I class as friends hardly ever fulfill those expectations... so does that mean they're not really friends??
If I don't fulfill them for people who class me as a friend... am I not their friend?
What if I don't know that there's something lacking?
See, this is why I never used to have friends. I had acquaintances. People I knew and talked to... but no commitment.
Commitment is something that scares me. Something I've fallen into many many times. Something that makes me so terrified that I wont live up to expectations; that I'll let that person down, or hurt them...
I don't think I make a very good friend if I'm honest.
I try! I do! But I'm very good at getting it wrong.
My flatmate Helen keeps calling me an angel...
it's sweet, and lovely... but it makes me cringe because I know how untrue it is... and I'm dreading the day she works it out too.
Part of me hopes, dreams, wishes that she's right. That I am a nice person.
But she's so easy to be friends with that I know it's wrong to base my perspective of friendship abilities on her responses to it.
After all, my other flatmate, Kaydie, has shown me (irrevocably) to be the evilest creature that walks the earth...
which helps keep it in perspective!
Kaydie.
I guess through all of this I'm trying to work out what went wrong.
I mean, I know what went wrong. Difference of opinion mixed with mistaken perspectives... mixed with a boy... it was bound to go completely wrong. Part of me whispers that I knew that from the start.
But really, what went wrong so that our friendship blew apart so quickly and easily?
Lack of communication maybe...
But my only real opinion has, unfortunately, been that we can't have been close friends to start with. I want to say maybe we were too close? But I look at my own personal definition of 'best friend' and use it as a tick list... and I can't tick much off. Was I that bad a friend to her? Wow.
I feel very defeated by the entire situation.
I read a comment on one of my blogs (i know! me, get a comment - wow!) that basically said I wasn't seeing Kaydie's perspective, and that if I didn't want to start a fight I wouldn't post things in my blog. (If I'm honest, I 'knew' at the time of those blogs that she hadn't and to my knowledge wouldn't read them... though in hind sight I should have realised that would change)
So, maybe I am really as blind as I've been accused of.
Time will tell.
For now, it's time to embrace hope again and stop thinking about what a friend is and try to be one instead.
It's time to face the world and try to just be me, and hope that that's good enough.
Best wishes and love to you.
Blessed Be xx
"Best friend"
What is a best friend?
What does it mean to be one?
Why do we have them?
What makes one friend better than another?
The questions are flying round my head like you wouldn't believe.
Now, being an English Literature student and loving the etymology of words, I break it down into its components:
"best" and "friend"
Best means to excel the most, to be better than all others.
Friend... friend is more tricky. I had a boyfriend once who classed everyone they knew as a 'friend' and the people they were really close to as 'mates'... I was the opposite. So what is a friend?
Well, this is the definition I've come up with. What I mean when I say friend:
A friend is a person who you enjoy spending time with, who knows you to a larger degree than a person who has only just met you, who you help when they need you, who is there for you when you need them. Someone to spend your time with and enjoy talking to, and who you trust.
Ergo a best friend must be:
A person you enjoy spending all your time with, or whom you enjoy spending time with above anyone else. A person who knows you more than any other. A person who you always help, and always want to help, no matter how big or small the problem. A person who is always there for you, even when you don't know that you need them. Someone to spend all your time with and who you enjoy talking to on any and all levels. Someone you trust with your life and who trusts you, in return, with theirs.
That would seem succinct enough - yes?
So why are the questions still there?
Why do I continue to analyse and question this definition?
Is there something I left out? I'm not sure. Love maybe?
See, the reason that I'm questioning this is because I'm trying to pigeon hole my friendships. Trying to re-clarify and re-classify them according to this model. And, okay - yes - there is a certain friend who I'm trying to work out if the term was applied to without credit.
Has anyone ever said to you "You're supposed to be my friend!"? How justified do you think they were when they said that?
See, the question I'm really getting at is not 'were they justified in saying that you weren't acting like a friend at the time?', but 'does the term 'friend' come with a level of attachment that must always be upheld?'
For instance, can a friendship be broken temporarily... or is it something we are committed to from the instant of forming it until it is completely broken? Also, are we committed to satisfying our own definition of 'friendship' or must we be committed to satisfying theirs?
This is such a hard question for me at the moment, because I am definitely the sort of person who says "this is me, take me as I am or don't bother." but at the same time I feel the need to satisfy everyone. That's where all my problems come from I suppose.
Dad put it nicely once and said that I just had "too big a heart"... but really it comes from the need to be appreciated and liked, I think. So in actual fact it comes from being selfish. Wow, confusing.
But look at it this way: Making people happy makes you happy.Therefore, going out of your way to make someone happy will make you happy. Therefore, going out of your way to make someone happy is going out of your way to make yourself happy.
If the premise is correct, the conclusion must also logically be correct.
I don't know if my premise is correct though....
Going back to the previous phrase of "you're supposed to be my friend" : can it be said that fulfilling ones side of the friendship is reliant on their satisfying the other? For instance, many a time when I've either heard, said, or over-heard those words - the rebuttal has been along the lines of "you started it" or "so are you"... implying that the person doing the blaming has started - or at least partaken in - the breaking of the silent, invisible promise of friendship.
There seem to be so many expectations bound up in friendship... and some people who I class as friends hardly ever fulfill those expectations... so does that mean they're not really friends??
If I don't fulfill them for people who class me as a friend... am I not their friend?
What if I don't know that there's something lacking?
See, this is why I never used to have friends. I had acquaintances. People I knew and talked to... but no commitment.
Commitment is something that scares me. Something I've fallen into many many times. Something that makes me so terrified that I wont live up to expectations; that I'll let that person down, or hurt them...
I don't think I make a very good friend if I'm honest.
I try! I do! But I'm very good at getting it wrong.
My flatmate Helen keeps calling me an angel...
it's sweet, and lovely... but it makes me cringe because I know how untrue it is... and I'm dreading the day she works it out too.
Part of me hopes, dreams, wishes that she's right. That I am a nice person.
But she's so easy to be friends with that I know it's wrong to base my perspective of friendship abilities on her responses to it.
After all, my other flatmate, Kaydie, has shown me (irrevocably) to be the evilest creature that walks the earth...
which helps keep it in perspective!
Kaydie.
I guess through all of this I'm trying to work out what went wrong.
I mean, I know what went wrong. Difference of opinion mixed with mistaken perspectives... mixed with a boy... it was bound to go completely wrong. Part of me whispers that I knew that from the start.
But really, what went wrong so that our friendship blew apart so quickly and easily?
Lack of communication maybe...
But my only real opinion has, unfortunately, been that we can't have been close friends to start with. I want to say maybe we were too close? But I look at my own personal definition of 'best friend' and use it as a tick list... and I can't tick much off. Was I that bad a friend to her? Wow.
I feel very defeated by the entire situation.
I read a comment on one of my blogs (i know! me, get a comment - wow!) that basically said I wasn't seeing Kaydie's perspective, and that if I didn't want to start a fight I wouldn't post things in my blog. (If I'm honest, I 'knew' at the time of those blogs that she hadn't and to my knowledge wouldn't read them... though in hind sight I should have realised that would change)
So, maybe I am really as blind as I've been accused of.
Time will tell.
For now, it's time to embrace hope again and stop thinking about what a friend is and try to be one instead.
It's time to face the world and try to just be me, and hope that that's good enough.
Best wishes and love to you.
Blessed Be xx
Thursday, 25 November 2010
Peace, at last
As I walked home, I felt this shift. It was like the world changed under my feet.
I don't know how, but I just let go. Let go of the hurt, the pain, the anger... it all just floated away. I know it's still right there and I'll have to be careful not to reach out and take them again... but to not clutch them to you is such a relief.
I feel like I floated home in some kind of Nirvana.
(no, not the band)
I realised as I walked that not having my phone, not being contactable, made me feel really alone for once in my life. It was this great, freeing feeling. There was no one who could call me and ask where I was, no one who could follow me if I decided not to go home, no one who would know I was avoiding them because I turned my phone off.... just free to do as I pleased.
And so I went home.
That's where I feared most to go. That's where it was waiting - all the hurt and the anger, all the pain. So I went there to face my fear.
And none of it was there to greet me.
It feels amazing to have made the right choice for once.
Now I'm going to do the second scariest thing and check the comments on my last post. I was warned before I came back that they were bad. Let's hope I can keep from clutching those hurtful things back and stay in this calm, peaceful place I've made.
............*reads comment*.........
Oddly, I'm still calm.
For the sake of it I may post a comment back... but that's for there, not here.
The only reaction I actually had to it initially was 'lol - double post...'
I think that all of the things that have been said are such old things now that they just don't affect me anymore. To be fair, the only thing that upset me in this whole affair was that other people were getting involved - and getting hurt.
I suppose it annoyed me that Kaydie got the wrong end of the stick and bit it again... but hey, I'm kinda used to that.
Now, however, I'm going to float off for a bit and try not to be too spaced out. I have a feeling it's caused by this lack of sleep thing. But I did get a 10 min nap at Li's before we went to the hospital, so I'll be fine for a while ^_^
I suppose I want to say sorry.
Sorry to the universe for saying it fucked me in the ass... because really, it's always there for you when you need it.
And sorry to the people who got dragged into this... Aimie, Angie, and especially Libor...
People who I'd LIKE to say sorry to but can't bring myself to are the people actually involved. It's too messed up to be sorry. What's happened has happened and can't unhappen... we'll deal with it.
I'll catch you all later.
Love and blessings to you all
Blessed Be x
I don't know how, but I just let go. Let go of the hurt, the pain, the anger... it all just floated away. I know it's still right there and I'll have to be careful not to reach out and take them again... but to not clutch them to you is such a relief.
I feel like I floated home in some kind of Nirvana.
(no, not the band)
I realised as I walked that not having my phone, not being contactable, made me feel really alone for once in my life. It was this great, freeing feeling. There was no one who could call me and ask where I was, no one who could follow me if I decided not to go home, no one who would know I was avoiding them because I turned my phone off.... just free to do as I pleased.
And so I went home.
That's where I feared most to go. That's where it was waiting - all the hurt and the anger, all the pain. So I went there to face my fear.
And none of it was there to greet me.
It feels amazing to have made the right choice for once.
Now I'm going to do the second scariest thing and check the comments on my last post. I was warned before I came back that they were bad. Let's hope I can keep from clutching those hurtful things back and stay in this calm, peaceful place I've made.
............*reads comment*.........
Oddly, I'm still calm.
For the sake of it I may post a comment back... but that's for there, not here.
The only reaction I actually had to it initially was 'lol - double post...'
I think that all of the things that have been said are such old things now that they just don't affect me anymore. To be fair, the only thing that upset me in this whole affair was that other people were getting involved - and getting hurt.
I suppose it annoyed me that Kaydie got the wrong end of the stick and bit it again... but hey, I'm kinda used to that.
Now, however, I'm going to float off for a bit and try not to be too spaced out. I have a feeling it's caused by this lack of sleep thing. But I did get a 10 min nap at Li's before we went to the hospital, so I'll be fine for a while ^_^
I suppose I want to say sorry.
Sorry to the universe for saying it fucked me in the ass... because really, it's always there for you when you need it.
And sorry to the people who got dragged into this... Aimie, Angie, and especially Libor...
People who I'd LIKE to say sorry to but can't bring myself to are the people actually involved. It's too messed up to be sorry. What's happened has happened and can't unhappen... we'll deal with it.
I'll catch you all later.
Love and blessings to you all
Blessed Be x
And even if you want to... you can't... sorry about that.
1:07am: The sobbing gives way to shaking, and I feel the anger swirl with the pain...
None of this makes sense anymore. My brain has actually given in.
It's now 5am and I can't concentrate for toffee. I have toffee in my bag actually, so if I could concentrate for toffee that'd help a great deal...
So instead of trying harder to focus on this stupid essay I've taken time out to ramble. To get it all out. All my frustration and confusion. All the pitiful day that just keeps going wrong...
12:45am: There's nothing to describe why it hurts so much.
I'm having a shit day, a shit week - okay okay so it's not a great life, but that sounds too dramatic. So, after giving up my time for the third day running (that needed to be spent doing my essays if I'm honest) I travel to Leicester General, where I have to explain that no one else can come because they have assignments due in or are having to wait in for a delivery. It's all true - so why does it sound like excuses when it comes out of my mouth?
She looks at me with that "Well, at least you came" look in her eyes, and I just want to call them and yell at them! I don't fucking care if you're busy, she's our friend, she's scared, she needs us! A deep breath later and I'm in control. Not everyones lives revolve around their friends Lauren - I tell myself strictly.
Dj is texting me, wanting to meet up, offering to give me a lift home. Not having to wait in the cold for the bus sounds good. But now to try and hide that I'm pissed off (mostly at myself for having such bad time management and luck) and make sure she doesn't think I'm resenting coming. I'm not. I'd do anything for this girl. She's like a little sister to me. I love her to bits.
She promises me that she isn't scared - isn't worried - just wants to get it over with so she can eat without the pain. She's so brave. I just want to hug her and make all of the pain disappear. Still, there's this concern ringing her eyes. They're a little too wide, even through the slight sleepiness of the morphine.
Morphine... bad memories... I stop myself from going down that route.
This is her first major stint in hospital, and yes - she's a bad patient (because she has no patience), but a moron could see that's because she's upset and uncomfortable. And now they're sending her for surgery. Taken away the 6-8 weeks adjustment time, and thrown her straight in the deep end.
Of course I'm here. Of course I'll be there tomorrow. Hell, if my coursework isn't done it can be capped at bloody 40% - she's more important than a stupid bit of coursework. I'll be there. Assuming I don't crash and burn half way through the night. Note to self - stock up on energy drinks.
The nurse comes and tells her she's changing wards. Panic! 'Will my doctor be the same? Will I still get the surgery tomorrow? They wont force me to eat will they?' the questions come so fast that I'm surprised the nurse isn't making calming motions with her hands. Maybe she hears this stuff all the time, or maybe it's just that anyone who doesn't know Jodie doesn't realise that this isn't normal behaviour for her. She's normally laid back and doesn't worry too much. Likes to have the facts, but can wait till later to get them.
She's knelt up on the bed, I swear in a second she's going to start shaking. I calmly re-iterate that it'll be okay, repeat what the nurse says about nothing changing. It's just a non-emergency ward. It's a good thing. It means you haven't got MRSA. It's okay.
DJ is outside waiting. He'll have to wait. I'm not leaving her before she's on the new ward.
We get there and she shoo's me off though. Looked scared as hell before we left the emergency ward that I might leave her before she was moved, but hugs me as soon as the porter is out of the way and tells me to go to DJ. So brave. Always able to push her own problems aside and not worry.
Her reaction to me telling her that the others couldn't come was "Oh no! Of course not! Uni work is way more important! Wish them luck from me!" Total sincerity too. Doesn't imagine that she should come before that priority.
So off I go, heading to DJ, then ASDA, then to Li's to work on the essay and supply him with energy drink to try and get him through the last hurdle of his assignment. All the time though there's this crushing feeling. I'm about out of time on the essay. Got until 12pm tomorrow. It's never gonna happen. Been in this situation so many times. How am I supposed to get a first? Will everyone think less of me if I don't do well? And damn, I just spent too much money on snacks because I'm stressed. I don't have money - not if I want to pay my rent, let alone my bills, let alone buy Christmas presents. It's all a bit much really.
Then the cherry on top. The bottle of energy drink leaks on Li's bed... all over my phone, killing it outright. Not only have I killed my phone, I've soaked my best mates bedsheets. I'm practically in tears. We can't fix the phone.
"Wash it out with water and then use the hairdryer on it when you get home." Li suggests. I'm pretty sure we both know it's futile. I've killed this phone too many times. It can't be resurrected again I don't think.
So great. Now I have no idea what's going on with Jodie in the hospital. Not only that but I can't call home, or my friends, or text anyone... now I'm scared to walk home. Without that little life line things become scary some how. I'm not sure why - they just do.
So Li, bless him, walks me home in the lightly falling snow.
Finally home, it's half 11 :- 12 hours to go until I have to print my essay and dissertation chapter off... that's 4,000 words.... I've written... oh god, I've not written anything yet!
It's okay - stay calm. You know what you're talking about, you have a vague idea of a plan in your head, just stay calm and you'll do this. You have practice at this kinda thing. Just CHILL.
That's fine, till the flat mate starts again.
Oh joy.
At first I'm mad. I want to go downstairs and hit her - hard. I try to laugh it off with Li... but then the pain comes. It's like a wave dragging me down under the current of emotions and I'm crying. Now I'm sobbing. Now I can't breath. I need help. I need a life line.
I need to phone... oh ffs!! I can't phone anyone!! Thank you universe for once again fucking me in the ass.
So I type. Li keeps talking to me till I can stop crying enough to shuffle shakily to the bathroom and mop myself up. It feels like the break downs again. I want to curl up into a ball and die so the pain and the tears and the shaking will stop.
I try not to tell Li how bad it is - but at the same time be honest about it. He gets frustrated and tells me to basically snap out of it. Doesn't help, but I know he's right and I'm already trying to.
Slowly the tears stop. The shaking takes over everywhere and I swear I'm going to vomit. But I block her. Some how, the action calms me slightly. She can't hurt me anymore over that medium. It's okay.
I've just accused her (in my insanely mentally-breakdowny state) of being mentally abusive. Maybe that's too harsh... but I'm not taking it back, because that's how it feels. Having to deal with the put downs, the snide comments, the out and out venom, then the mood swings... on top of which she wont support me in anything but expects me to be there for her... and maybe this is one sided - but it's my side, and I'll be damned if I give it up.
Everything I try is wrong. Everything I say is wrong. And every time I want to tell her where to go I have to bite my tongue in case she does something stupid.
It's like being with Luke... only worse. So much worse.
So I finally calm down, start taking screen shots then finally writing the stupid essay that's going to keep me up all night. Everyone logs off and I'm doing okay.
Then a post catches my eye as I switch to facebook instead of paint by accident.
It's to Libor... from her sister... having a go at him.
I start to shake again. Maybe it's cold in here?
How can she blame him?? That's the thing I can't get my head around. Yell at me, sure. Diss me, yeah - of course... but Li?? That makes so little sense I end up replying to her (when I should probably keep my nose out...)
If you read it one way it basically says "Keep out of this and leave my best friend alone", but I was trying to be honest and diplomatic. I just don't want him being dragged further into this. It's not his fault his friends are at each others throats - and it's certainly not his fault if he refused to say something his bestmate specifically asked him NOT to.
So I leave it after the reply and try to go back to work, but I can't get rid of the shakes. I end up on blogger. Guess who's posted a new blog??
I automatically go and block her. Then read her blog. It's paradoxical I know... but I can't help it. I suddenly need to know what she's thinking. I need to understand the sudden rush of hatred.
And there it is. I'm a liar, and it's Dj's fault...
wow, should have seen that coming.
By refusing to comment on him being in Leicester, and telling her I hadn't seen him (which I hadn't) I'm a liar. Right. Thanks for clearing that one up.
So she's fallen out with me over the fact that someone she doesn't have to have contact with, who I never really bring up, who isn't allowed in the house, is still in contact with me and I still like him? Now, please... someone... anyone... explain this to me??
Am I being blind? Am I being totally stupid??
I've avoided the subject like the plague since any mention of him sets off the arguments, or at least the tensions. I don't text him when I'm around her. I don't know what else there is I could possibly do.
Lets face it. Our views are polar opposites. I think he's ok, she hates him.
How is anything going to change that??
How does she expect me to pick her over him when all she does is fuck with my head and he is always there for me and willing to do practically anything for/with me?
The ramble is nearly over, and the shaking has stopped again (finally)
I'm just wishing I could climb into bed and sleep for a very long time right now. But there's only 7 hours left before I have to have this done. So, no sleep for me. No rest for the wicked.
If I could have one wish right now, I'd pick from the following:
1) Be able to stop time for at least 32 hours, in which time only I (and maybe my bestfriend) would be able to do stuff. Everything else would freeze; thus giving me time to sleep and finish my essay.
2) Be home, away from all of this bullcrap.
3) Be able to just make a phone call and hear a friendly voice telling me that I'm being a big baby, to chill out, stop making a big fuss of everything and to forget about it all. Someone to just make me laugh off my silly problems and get on with things.
4) Be able to face going downstairs without the nerves of bumping into 'the flatmate' (*queue dramatic music, and!* dum dum duuuuuhhhhhhmmm!!)
5) Not have to be stuck in some kind of loggerhead that makes no sense to me
6) Not be cold.
I think, out of all of those, the most likely is the not being cold thing. But that requires going downstairs to turn the heating on... oh well, screw it, worth the risk to have at least one wish granted right?
We have this saying - that if things get really bad we'll just up and join the circus. I've been far closer to packing the poi up and setting off in the past... but I have to admit it's looking tempting again right now.
I just want things to blow over. I don't care anymore about this stupid conflict, its just a load of twaddle anyway. I just wish it didn't keep flaring up like this.
I mean, I've officially lost a friend now. Why? I'm not really sure. Try asking her?
I just wish things had been handled better to start with. This has escalated in such a stupid way.
It's gonna take ages to work out how to not be effected by this though. I mean, seriously? Not being able to breath because she was horrible to me? And not even that horrible either! Talk about a feather breaking your back!
Oh well... I want out... but I can't...
Welcome to Morganville...
Blessed Be xx
None of this makes sense anymore. My brain has actually given in.
It's now 5am and I can't concentrate for toffee. I have toffee in my bag actually, so if I could concentrate for toffee that'd help a great deal...
So instead of trying harder to focus on this stupid essay I've taken time out to ramble. To get it all out. All my frustration and confusion. All the pitiful day that just keeps going wrong...
12:45am: There's nothing to describe why it hurts so much.
I'm having a shit day, a shit week - okay okay so it's not a great life, but that sounds too dramatic. So, after giving up my time for the third day running (that needed to be spent doing my essays if I'm honest) I travel to Leicester General, where I have to explain that no one else can come because they have assignments due in or are having to wait in for a delivery. It's all true - so why does it sound like excuses when it comes out of my mouth?
She looks at me with that "Well, at least you came" look in her eyes, and I just want to call them and yell at them! I don't fucking care if you're busy, she's our friend, she's scared, she needs us! A deep breath later and I'm in control. Not everyones lives revolve around their friends Lauren - I tell myself strictly.
Dj is texting me, wanting to meet up, offering to give me a lift home. Not having to wait in the cold for the bus sounds good. But now to try and hide that I'm pissed off (mostly at myself for having such bad time management and luck) and make sure she doesn't think I'm resenting coming. I'm not. I'd do anything for this girl. She's like a little sister to me. I love her to bits.
She promises me that she isn't scared - isn't worried - just wants to get it over with so she can eat without the pain. She's so brave. I just want to hug her and make all of the pain disappear. Still, there's this concern ringing her eyes. They're a little too wide, even through the slight sleepiness of the morphine.
Morphine... bad memories... I stop myself from going down that route.
This is her first major stint in hospital, and yes - she's a bad patient (because she has no patience), but a moron could see that's because she's upset and uncomfortable. And now they're sending her for surgery. Taken away the 6-8 weeks adjustment time, and thrown her straight in the deep end.
Of course I'm here. Of course I'll be there tomorrow. Hell, if my coursework isn't done it can be capped at bloody 40% - she's more important than a stupid bit of coursework. I'll be there. Assuming I don't crash and burn half way through the night. Note to self - stock up on energy drinks.
The nurse comes and tells her she's changing wards. Panic! 'Will my doctor be the same? Will I still get the surgery tomorrow? They wont force me to eat will they?' the questions come so fast that I'm surprised the nurse isn't making calming motions with her hands. Maybe she hears this stuff all the time, or maybe it's just that anyone who doesn't know Jodie doesn't realise that this isn't normal behaviour for her. She's normally laid back and doesn't worry too much. Likes to have the facts, but can wait till later to get them.
She's knelt up on the bed, I swear in a second she's going to start shaking. I calmly re-iterate that it'll be okay, repeat what the nurse says about nothing changing. It's just a non-emergency ward. It's a good thing. It means you haven't got MRSA. It's okay.
DJ is outside waiting. He'll have to wait. I'm not leaving her before she's on the new ward.
We get there and she shoo's me off though. Looked scared as hell before we left the emergency ward that I might leave her before she was moved, but hugs me as soon as the porter is out of the way and tells me to go to DJ. So brave. Always able to push her own problems aside and not worry.
Her reaction to me telling her that the others couldn't come was "Oh no! Of course not! Uni work is way more important! Wish them luck from me!" Total sincerity too. Doesn't imagine that she should come before that priority.
So off I go, heading to DJ, then ASDA, then to Li's to work on the essay and supply him with energy drink to try and get him through the last hurdle of his assignment. All the time though there's this crushing feeling. I'm about out of time on the essay. Got until 12pm tomorrow. It's never gonna happen. Been in this situation so many times. How am I supposed to get a first? Will everyone think less of me if I don't do well? And damn, I just spent too much money on snacks because I'm stressed. I don't have money - not if I want to pay my rent, let alone my bills, let alone buy Christmas presents. It's all a bit much really.
Then the cherry on top. The bottle of energy drink leaks on Li's bed... all over my phone, killing it outright. Not only have I killed my phone, I've soaked my best mates bedsheets. I'm practically in tears. We can't fix the phone.
"Wash it out with water and then use the hairdryer on it when you get home." Li suggests. I'm pretty sure we both know it's futile. I've killed this phone too many times. It can't be resurrected again I don't think.
So great. Now I have no idea what's going on with Jodie in the hospital. Not only that but I can't call home, or my friends, or text anyone... now I'm scared to walk home. Without that little life line things become scary some how. I'm not sure why - they just do.
So Li, bless him, walks me home in the lightly falling snow.
Finally home, it's half 11 :- 12 hours to go until I have to print my essay and dissertation chapter off... that's 4,000 words.... I've written... oh god, I've not written anything yet!
It's okay - stay calm. You know what you're talking about, you have a vague idea of a plan in your head, just stay calm and you'll do this. You have practice at this kinda thing. Just CHILL.
That's fine, till the flat mate starts again.
Oh joy.
At first I'm mad. I want to go downstairs and hit her - hard. I try to laugh it off with Li... but then the pain comes. It's like a wave dragging me down under the current of emotions and I'm crying. Now I'm sobbing. Now I can't breath. I need help. I need a life line.
I need to phone... oh ffs!! I can't phone anyone!! Thank you universe for once again fucking me in the ass.
So I type. Li keeps talking to me till I can stop crying enough to shuffle shakily to the bathroom and mop myself up. It feels like the break downs again. I want to curl up into a ball and die so the pain and the tears and the shaking will stop.
I try not to tell Li how bad it is - but at the same time be honest about it. He gets frustrated and tells me to basically snap out of it. Doesn't help, but I know he's right and I'm already trying to.
Slowly the tears stop. The shaking takes over everywhere and I swear I'm going to vomit. But I block her. Some how, the action calms me slightly. She can't hurt me anymore over that medium. It's okay.
I've just accused her (in my insanely mentally-breakdowny state) of being mentally abusive. Maybe that's too harsh... but I'm not taking it back, because that's how it feels. Having to deal with the put downs, the snide comments, the out and out venom, then the mood swings... on top of which she wont support me in anything but expects me to be there for her... and maybe this is one sided - but it's my side, and I'll be damned if I give it up.
Everything I try is wrong. Everything I say is wrong. And every time I want to tell her where to go I have to bite my tongue in case she does something stupid.
It's like being with Luke... only worse. So much worse.
So I finally calm down, start taking screen shots then finally writing the stupid essay that's going to keep me up all night. Everyone logs off and I'm doing okay.
Then a post catches my eye as I switch to facebook instead of paint by accident.
It's to Libor... from her sister... having a go at him.
I start to shake again. Maybe it's cold in here?
How can she blame him?? That's the thing I can't get my head around. Yell at me, sure. Diss me, yeah - of course... but Li?? That makes so little sense I end up replying to her (when I should probably keep my nose out...)
If you read it one way it basically says "Keep out of this and leave my best friend alone", but I was trying to be honest and diplomatic. I just don't want him being dragged further into this. It's not his fault his friends are at each others throats - and it's certainly not his fault if he refused to say something his bestmate specifically asked him NOT to.
So I leave it after the reply and try to go back to work, but I can't get rid of the shakes. I end up on blogger. Guess who's posted a new blog??
I automatically go and block her. Then read her blog. It's paradoxical I know... but I can't help it. I suddenly need to know what she's thinking. I need to understand the sudden rush of hatred.
And there it is. I'm a liar, and it's Dj's fault...
wow, should have seen that coming.
By refusing to comment on him being in Leicester, and telling her I hadn't seen him (which I hadn't) I'm a liar. Right. Thanks for clearing that one up.
So she's fallen out with me over the fact that someone she doesn't have to have contact with, who I never really bring up, who isn't allowed in the house, is still in contact with me and I still like him? Now, please... someone... anyone... explain this to me??
Am I being blind? Am I being totally stupid??
I've avoided the subject like the plague since any mention of him sets off the arguments, or at least the tensions. I don't text him when I'm around her. I don't know what else there is I could possibly do.
Lets face it. Our views are polar opposites. I think he's ok, she hates him.
How is anything going to change that??
How does she expect me to pick her over him when all she does is fuck with my head and he is always there for me and willing to do practically anything for/with me?
The ramble is nearly over, and the shaking has stopped again (finally)
I'm just wishing I could climb into bed and sleep for a very long time right now. But there's only 7 hours left before I have to have this done. So, no sleep for me. No rest for the wicked.
If I could have one wish right now, I'd pick from the following:
1) Be able to stop time for at least 32 hours, in which time only I (and maybe my bestfriend) would be able to do stuff. Everything else would freeze; thus giving me time to sleep and finish my essay.
2) Be home, away from all of this bullcrap.
3) Be able to just make a phone call and hear a friendly voice telling me that I'm being a big baby, to chill out, stop making a big fuss of everything and to forget about it all. Someone to just make me laugh off my silly problems and get on with things.
4) Be able to face going downstairs without the nerves of bumping into 'the flatmate' (*queue dramatic music, and!* dum dum duuuuuhhhhhhmmm!!)
5) Not have to be stuck in some kind of loggerhead that makes no sense to me
6) Not be cold.
I think, out of all of those, the most likely is the not being cold thing. But that requires going downstairs to turn the heating on... oh well, screw it, worth the risk to have at least one wish granted right?
We have this saying - that if things get really bad we'll just up and join the circus. I've been far closer to packing the poi up and setting off in the past... but I have to admit it's looking tempting again right now.
I just want things to blow over. I don't care anymore about this stupid conflict, its just a load of twaddle anyway. I just wish it didn't keep flaring up like this.
I mean, I've officially lost a friend now. Why? I'm not really sure. Try asking her?
I just wish things had been handled better to start with. This has escalated in such a stupid way.
It's gonna take ages to work out how to not be effected by this though. I mean, seriously? Not being able to breath because she was horrible to me? And not even that horrible either! Talk about a feather breaking your back!
Oh well... I want out... but I can't...
Welcome to Morganville...
Blessed Be xx
Tuesday, 23 November 2010
You Shall Not Pass!
Well, yesterday was spent in town and then in the hospital... Today was spent in the hospital with the same friend who went in yesterday (and traveling to and from the hospital - which I swear took more time than we had actually visiting her) so yet again I have yet to do any work.
This normally would be a welcome distraction - well, not my friend being in hospital, but not doing work... but the problem is I have two assignments due in Thursday. Sooo... no more sleep for the next few days!! Either that or I really wont pass.
Well... not PASS, I want a first. I don't want to be paying these ridiculous tuition fees to just pass. Bet I end up with a 2:1 instead though...
I've gotten to that stage where you just want to say 'ah fuck it. I'll bum along at a 2:1 and like it...' - but I know I'll kick myself if I let myself do that.
It's like my friend. He's doing the same sorta thing. Not putting the full effort in, not really forcing himself to do well.... we're both going to kick ourselves so badly if we don't get out of this soon.
It is for this reason that I am NOT going to ramble today.
I'll ramble when the assignments are DONE and IN.
Fingers crossed some kind of motivation gets me to stay on the ball; since our shower's broken and I'm not really keen on using the downstairs (icky) one, I'm not really 'with it' (or smelling particularly nice if I'm honest) lately. A two minute shower is not enough... so I'm going to have to put up with the icky shower soon and wash away the horrid smell that I'm basically wallowing in. Fingers crossed it'll wake me up instead of send me to sleep.
I have this terrible feeling I'm going to get upstairs, sit on my bed to do the reading part of my assignment and pass out - only to be woken by a phone call asking me to come down to the hospital again... which I'm probably going to do anyway...
I fail.
I'm going to fail.
This isn't good....
Blessed Be xx
This normally would be a welcome distraction - well, not my friend being in hospital, but not doing work... but the problem is I have two assignments due in Thursday. Sooo... no more sleep for the next few days!! Either that or I really wont pass.
Well... not PASS, I want a first. I don't want to be paying these ridiculous tuition fees to just pass. Bet I end up with a 2:1 instead though...
I've gotten to that stage where you just want to say 'ah fuck it. I'll bum along at a 2:1 and like it...' - but I know I'll kick myself if I let myself do that.
It's like my friend. He's doing the same sorta thing. Not putting the full effort in, not really forcing himself to do well.... we're both going to kick ourselves so badly if we don't get out of this soon.
It is for this reason that I am NOT going to ramble today.
I'll ramble when the assignments are DONE and IN.
Fingers crossed some kind of motivation gets me to stay on the ball; since our shower's broken and I'm not really keen on using the downstairs (icky) one, I'm not really 'with it' (or smelling particularly nice if I'm honest) lately. A two minute shower is not enough... so I'm going to have to put up with the icky shower soon and wash away the horrid smell that I'm basically wallowing in. Fingers crossed it'll wake me up instead of send me to sleep.
I have this terrible feeling I'm going to get upstairs, sit on my bed to do the reading part of my assignment and pass out - only to be woken by a phone call asking me to come down to the hospital again... which I'm probably going to do anyway...
I fail.
I'm going to fail.
This isn't good....
Blessed Be xx
Monday, 22 November 2010
In the beginning was the word
I often wonder why we end up thinking about the beginning so much. It's as if our minds want to rewind to a time when we understood (or thought we understood) what was going on. We like to look at the beginning and not think about the things we did wrong, the ways we messed things up.
My mind reels back to show me things...
Luke crosses the road, and I half want to run after him - but I hold back. He doesn't like me that much - I don't want to seem clingy. I'm practically walking backwards I'm looking back that often. So is he.
Suddenly he turns and streaks back across the road, all the way down the path and sweeps me up in his arms again. I've never been so inlove!
even earlier...
TJ's bedroom is dark, and I'm still laid on top of Luke. He's so cute, and sweet... I think he might like me too. We've been kissing, and cuddling for ages...
"Stay with me tonight... please?" his tone is pleading - begging. I know I shouldn't. I know I'm not allowed. But my heart does a funny leap and I agree to.
TJ comes back in
"Lauren, mum says it's time for you to go. I'll walk you home."
much later.....
"OMG! It glows!!"
"Yeah! Check this out!" I hit the light switch and all that we can see is the blue and red lights emitted from the Frisbee and what little it illuminates.
"Oh wow!! We so have to play!"
A little later....
"Nope, you dropped it again - you've GOT to do it!"
I'm laughing, watching him glow slightly red. Who would have thought Uni would be this fun?
His pants hit the floor and he runs in a shuffle all the way to the end of the hall, dropping things and having to go back for them constantly.
I'm practically howling on the floor when he finally gets back to my door - grinning in an embarrassed way as he pulls his jeans back up.
later still....
I half fall off my bed laughing at Dj. Damn, have we left teamspeak on voice activated? I can't remember - but if so we must sound insane!
"Thaaaank yooooo suuuuurrrr!"
The pillow fight had been so much fun, but this is practically killing both of us! We can't breath!
"I need to pee!!" I gasp
As I dive into the en-suite I hear the crackle of a voice issue from my laptop
"Hey, sorry! I'm back!"
And I'm leaning forward, opening the toilet door a crack
"Answer him in humpback!!"
He's in too much of hysterics to breath, let alone speak in whale.
Yes, beginnings can be so much fun.
It's funny - we were talking today about people from the past, and how time makes you think either only about the good, or only about the bad.
"It's silly," he said "I've been thinking about all the good stuff - back in the beginning - and I really miss her."
I couldn't say anything to that. Nothing needed to be said really. I understand. There are some people who, no matter how much hell you put each other through, you still miss them when they're gone.
And then there are other people who you love dearly, and never have a real issue with... yet when they're gone you don't even think about them that much. You miss them on occasions, but in a gentle and sentimental way.
It's strange how I keep trying to look back to the beginning of Uni, but it's just one blur of pain still. Nothing really fits in with anything else. Just a big tangled mess. I kinda think of this year as my proper start at university. It's the first year I've gone out and DONE things. I suppose that's why I want to stay a few more years. Enjoy it some more.
I wouldn't say I've wasted my time here. Just that I've not been entirely... well... with it the past couple years. Can't be helped now. I think I've covered this theme before actually... so moving on!
I'm currently loving my new blog (L S Bland Fiction) because it's giving me a focus for my writing. I've not been in the mood to write fiction in a long time, so it's nice to get back into it.
And my external hardrive has just fallen on the floor. I think that may have fucked it. Damn.
I suppose I'll spend most of tomorrow trying to coax it back to life. If it weren't acting up already I'd be a lot more upset... but hey, not like it's got my dissertation on there... not like I've written enough of my dissertation for it to matter anyway! ha!
So it's half 3 in the morning, and I've been watching Naruto (the early episodes because I only started watching it a few months ago and only do so in spits and starts) and it suddenly struck me how much I think that I'm like Sakura. She basically cries a lot, excels in very few areas and just about keeps up with the task at hand. Maybe I'm not like that... Li always said I wasn't... but oh well. Maybe I don't see as much in myself as he does... but then, I see more in him than he can - so I suppose it'd be a two way thing.... it's just I can't imagine someone I look up to so much being able to see me as anything more than just the silly girl that I am.
That sounds like I'm putting myself down, but I'm really not. I don't put effort in, so I don't get results out. I understand the process, and have to admit there's not much of a result that can be found in my appearance or personality (unless you count being a bit different to normal people as 'a result'... which, no, I don't).
So when people like DJ tell me I'm amazing, it's hard to do anything other than want to slap them for trying to compliment me where it's not necessary or true. I've always thought people will do anything to get what they want from someone else, and unnecessary compliments are the way most people would achieve that. That's why I hate compliments. I mean, I give them - sure - but only where they're true (unless I'm being sarcastic, but that's different). In fact, I've found lately that I'm far too blunt and honest.
Oh dear, I can see my own breath... if we had more money I'd put the heating on...
I mean, it frustrates me when people brush off what I say. Because, while they might say that sort of thing not meaning it, I really do. The things I say are pretty much point blank opinions. Yes, I sugar coat some things so they're easier to swallow - but not often. Sure, it can get me into trouble, and I've put my foot in my mouth many a time... but the great thing about telling the truth is that you never do it for a stupid reason and want to take it back because you didn't mean it. If your foot gets wedged in your mouth when you've told the truth, it's easy to swallow. You just go a bit red, swallow your pride, and say "Well, that's my opinion... sorry. Deal with it."
You know what I've found? People actually respect you for it. They know that if I say something harsh it's because it's what I think - not because I want to hurt them; and they also know that if I say something nice, I mean every word.
I'm not sure if I was always like this. I know how to lie through my teeth, and I'm pretty good at it (until my conscience kicks in and I get pissed at myself and end up telling the entire truth anyway). I can keep a secret like a vault (unless it's my own, then at least Libor ends up knowing about it... bestfriends don't keep secrets) and can lie for a friend if I really really really have to. But it really is like I reached 20 and suddenly this 'truth' switch was flipped. If I don't want to tell people something, I just don't say it - rather than lie.
Half truths are the closest I get to lies. When you tell the truth, but don't tell the whole story?
Like the other day. My flatmates saw the guy that has been banned from our house walking down our street. They asked if he'd come to see me. He hadn't - so I said no. They asked if I'd seen him - which I hadn't - so I said no. What I didn't say was that he'd written me a letter and shoved it through the letterbox; or that I'd run to open the door and talk to him but he'd gone by the time I got there. I didn't tell them that I'd cried so hard I'd had to call my best friend to calm me down. Because one of my flatmates hates him with a passion - and seems to delight in tearing him down in my presence. I've been through so many ups and downs with him that I've bitched like hell about him (sometimes to her)... and that's made it all justified in her mind. It's also made all my flatmates take up her point of view. (I say all... I live with 3 girls... not much of an 'all' there... lol)
So I told these half truths, and they caused a mini hell - because even though I don't lie, my flatmate thinks I never tell the truth, especially to her. Oh yes, according to her I'm the liar to beat all liars. Nothing I say ever is the truth. Well... I can't say that's actually her opinion because I can't see into her mind or anything... but that's how she makes it come across. She makes it come across that I'm not to be trusted, and that nothing I say (especially regarding the boy) is to be believed.
Let me give you an example of this. I once used the word 'kinda' when referring to seeing this guy. I said that I was 'kinda' seeing him. What does that mean to you?
To me, it meant that I was very close to seeing him, and he was starting to view it in that way... that I was on the brink of dating the guy, without having taken the step. If I'm honest, without wanting to take the step. I wanted a friends honest opinion of how to handle the situation...
To her, it meant I was dating him and didn't want to admit it.
So now that I know we speak different languages, it's kinda hard to work out what she means when she says things. (And I just realised the irony of describing that with the word 'kinda')
It's hard being in a house with someone who speaks a different language. It reminds me of this horrible joke that DJ came out with today... it was so spur of the moment and witty that I burst out laughing.
I was in a bad mood and he was on about these two games he couldn't decide between playing. One was 'shooting the hell out of yanks' the other was 'shooting the hell out of super mutants'... or something like that. I - rather uninterested - asked what the difference was?
"One of them speaks English" he replied "The other's american."
"I could have said" he continued "One of them's an ugly, stupid brute; and one of them's a super mutant"
the first one was funnier.
I should probably go into detail as to the DJ issue... but it's long, complicated - and boring - and this post is long enough already without adding that in!
Summary? He was my flatmates ex, we hooked up and I told her I liked him - at which point she exploded because they had basically been threatening to kill each other... things got bad between all three of us because she was trying to get with his bestfriend and he told his mate to back the hell off... which made things awkward... and then my best mate and my other flatmates told me they didn't like him... and he started acting like a dickhead (okay, he started acting like my ex-fiance...same diff yeah?) so I told him to shove off...
but then I kept telling him to come back...
so basically I've been an undecided annoying headfuck - who deserves to be p0wned like a n00b...
I've been trying to make the peace in my flat - but his ex likes to bring it up constantly and have a dig. See, she thinks I literally can't get him to leave me alone and that he's practically stalking me (which she told me he would do...and that he'd probably end up trying to kill me...) where as the only thing I let her see is when I'm frustrated at him. I don't bring him up otherwise. She doesn't see me flirt with him, or ask him round, or go to him for comfort. She sees me in the middle of a bad day get one text too many, look at my phone and just go "Fuck off DJ!" and throw it on the sofa.
So I can see where she's getting the wrong end of the stick and everything... it's just - how do you say to someone "Look, I know you hate this person, and you think I do too, but I kinda still love him a fair bit - so stop slagging him off constantly before I punch you in the face"??
Okay, so I'd say it like that... but the last time we argued thinks got bad and she kinda nearly died (NO!! I did not beat her up or hurt her or nearly kill her! Before you jump to conclusions!) So instead I walk on egg shells and put up with the constant irritation of the DJ subject.
I figure, after the shit I've put up with these past few years, someone hurling abuse would be easy enough to deal with - someone making random snidey harsh comments is a breeze.
I guess I'm kinda sad that I don't think I'll ever really be truly friends with her again. I feel like she's shown a side of herself that I just can't overlook... which I feel bad about. I mean, I used to call her my best friend; now I call her my flatmate... it's kinda bad. But like I said to Lenny, we never treated each other as best friends. The word was used, but the actual being there for each other through everything wasn't. I mean, yes, we were there for each other... but not like, say, me and Li have been. Not like me and Sasha were. We only went through one real life changing thing together - and that ended in bloodshed!
They say certain things will either make or break a relationship. I guess this has broken ours.
I'm not saying I hate the girl!
I still love her in a weird way. I'd still do practically anything for her... but the list of people I'd do virtually anything for is pretty extensive. The list of people I would do absolutely anything for is a fair bit shorter. Most of them are younger relatives...
Sometimes I think that if we could have a fair argument - actually say what we mean to each other; not her backing down or simply repeating something I'm discounting, and not me trying my best to hold back on my tongue - then we might be okay again. Clear the air, so to speak. But we can't.
Why is it girls hold onto these problems??
Last year Li was constantly going on about how Lisa never let things drop. I realised this year two main things.
1) boys think they've addressed and fixed a problem, but normally have swept it under the rug instead - choosing to forgive and forget rather than get hung up on a problem.
2) girls have to argue (or 'discuss') the same thing continuously until everything that can be said has been said at least three times, and everyone is now saying the exact same thing.
Oh, and thirdly - I argue like a boy. Thanks for that Dad.
I never really argued with Mum as a child. She was pretty out of it for a fair while on medication for her back (which she kicked cold-turkey... scary shit! I'm so proud of her strength though) so we never argued. She was either just happy to be spending time with me or being knocked unconscious by the morphine. So daddy was my arguing buddy.
We're both Capricorns, so we butt heads like little rams at times! He always said (and still says to this day) "It's sorted now. It's done. We can forget about it and move on."
Granted, he'll argue black is blue till the cows come home if you let him... and he'll probably prove to you on some intricate level that he has a point (even if it is totally unrelated to the actual question) and only once you agree with him will he let it drop completely... (yeah, that's where I get it from) but the basic principle of 'sort it - leave it' has always been there.
Well, if I continue this post any further it's going to turn into a book. Lets leave it at a soliloquy shall we?
I hope that you're well, and that you continue in your good health for as long as possible
all my love
Blessed be xx
My mind reels back to show me things...
Luke crosses the road, and I half want to run after him - but I hold back. He doesn't like me that much - I don't want to seem clingy. I'm practically walking backwards I'm looking back that often. So is he.
Suddenly he turns and streaks back across the road, all the way down the path and sweeps me up in his arms again. I've never been so inlove!
even earlier...
TJ's bedroom is dark, and I'm still laid on top of Luke. He's so cute, and sweet... I think he might like me too. We've been kissing, and cuddling for ages...
"Stay with me tonight... please?" his tone is pleading - begging. I know I shouldn't. I know I'm not allowed. But my heart does a funny leap and I agree to.
TJ comes back in
"Lauren, mum says it's time for you to go. I'll walk you home."
much later.....
"OMG! It glows!!"
"Yeah! Check this out!" I hit the light switch and all that we can see is the blue and red lights emitted from the Frisbee and what little it illuminates.
"Oh wow!! We so have to play!"
A little later....
"Nope, you dropped it again - you've GOT to do it!"
I'm laughing, watching him glow slightly red. Who would have thought Uni would be this fun?
His pants hit the floor and he runs in a shuffle all the way to the end of the hall, dropping things and having to go back for them constantly.
I'm practically howling on the floor when he finally gets back to my door - grinning in an embarrassed way as he pulls his jeans back up.
later still....
I half fall off my bed laughing at Dj. Damn, have we left teamspeak on voice activated? I can't remember - but if so we must sound insane!
"Thaaaank yooooo suuuuurrrr!"
The pillow fight had been so much fun, but this is practically killing both of us! We can't breath!
"I need to pee!!" I gasp
As I dive into the en-suite I hear the crackle of a voice issue from my laptop
"Hey, sorry! I'm back!"
And I'm leaning forward, opening the toilet door a crack
"Answer him in humpback!!"
He's in too much of hysterics to breath, let alone speak in whale.
Yes, beginnings can be so much fun.
It's funny - we were talking today about people from the past, and how time makes you think either only about the good, or only about the bad.
"It's silly," he said "I've been thinking about all the good stuff - back in the beginning - and I really miss her."
I couldn't say anything to that. Nothing needed to be said really. I understand. There are some people who, no matter how much hell you put each other through, you still miss them when they're gone.
And then there are other people who you love dearly, and never have a real issue with... yet when they're gone you don't even think about them that much. You miss them on occasions, but in a gentle and sentimental way.
It's strange how I keep trying to look back to the beginning of Uni, but it's just one blur of pain still. Nothing really fits in with anything else. Just a big tangled mess. I kinda think of this year as my proper start at university. It's the first year I've gone out and DONE things. I suppose that's why I want to stay a few more years. Enjoy it some more.
I wouldn't say I've wasted my time here. Just that I've not been entirely... well... with it the past couple years. Can't be helped now. I think I've covered this theme before actually... so moving on!
I'm currently loving my new blog (L S Bland Fiction) because it's giving me a focus for my writing. I've not been in the mood to write fiction in a long time, so it's nice to get back into it.
And my external hardrive has just fallen on the floor. I think that may have fucked it. Damn.
I suppose I'll spend most of tomorrow trying to coax it back to life. If it weren't acting up already I'd be a lot more upset... but hey, not like it's got my dissertation on there... not like I've written enough of my dissertation for it to matter anyway! ha!
So it's half 3 in the morning, and I've been watching Naruto (the early episodes because I only started watching it a few months ago and only do so in spits and starts) and it suddenly struck me how much I think that I'm like Sakura. She basically cries a lot, excels in very few areas and just about keeps up with the task at hand. Maybe I'm not like that... Li always said I wasn't... but oh well. Maybe I don't see as much in myself as he does... but then, I see more in him than he can - so I suppose it'd be a two way thing.... it's just I can't imagine someone I look up to so much being able to see me as anything more than just the silly girl that I am.
That sounds like I'm putting myself down, but I'm really not. I don't put effort in, so I don't get results out. I understand the process, and have to admit there's not much of a result that can be found in my appearance or personality (unless you count being a bit different to normal people as 'a result'... which, no, I don't).
So when people like DJ tell me I'm amazing, it's hard to do anything other than want to slap them for trying to compliment me where it's not necessary or true. I've always thought people will do anything to get what they want from someone else, and unnecessary compliments are the way most people would achieve that. That's why I hate compliments. I mean, I give them - sure - but only where they're true (unless I'm being sarcastic, but that's different). In fact, I've found lately that I'm far too blunt and honest.
Oh dear, I can see my own breath... if we had more money I'd put the heating on...
I mean, it frustrates me when people brush off what I say. Because, while they might say that sort of thing not meaning it, I really do. The things I say are pretty much point blank opinions. Yes, I sugar coat some things so they're easier to swallow - but not often. Sure, it can get me into trouble, and I've put my foot in my mouth many a time... but the great thing about telling the truth is that you never do it for a stupid reason and want to take it back because you didn't mean it. If your foot gets wedged in your mouth when you've told the truth, it's easy to swallow. You just go a bit red, swallow your pride, and say "Well, that's my opinion... sorry. Deal with it."
You know what I've found? People actually respect you for it. They know that if I say something harsh it's because it's what I think - not because I want to hurt them; and they also know that if I say something nice, I mean every word.
I'm not sure if I was always like this. I know how to lie through my teeth, and I'm pretty good at it (until my conscience kicks in and I get pissed at myself and end up telling the entire truth anyway). I can keep a secret like a vault (unless it's my own, then at least Libor ends up knowing about it... bestfriends don't keep secrets) and can lie for a friend if I really really really have to. But it really is like I reached 20 and suddenly this 'truth' switch was flipped. If I don't want to tell people something, I just don't say it - rather than lie.
Half truths are the closest I get to lies. When you tell the truth, but don't tell the whole story?
Like the other day. My flatmates saw the guy that has been banned from our house walking down our street. They asked if he'd come to see me. He hadn't - so I said no. They asked if I'd seen him - which I hadn't - so I said no. What I didn't say was that he'd written me a letter and shoved it through the letterbox; or that I'd run to open the door and talk to him but he'd gone by the time I got there. I didn't tell them that I'd cried so hard I'd had to call my best friend to calm me down. Because one of my flatmates hates him with a passion - and seems to delight in tearing him down in my presence. I've been through so many ups and downs with him that I've bitched like hell about him (sometimes to her)... and that's made it all justified in her mind. It's also made all my flatmates take up her point of view. (I say all... I live with 3 girls... not much of an 'all' there... lol)
So I told these half truths, and they caused a mini hell - because even though I don't lie, my flatmate thinks I never tell the truth, especially to her. Oh yes, according to her I'm the liar to beat all liars. Nothing I say ever is the truth. Well... I can't say that's actually her opinion because I can't see into her mind or anything... but that's how she makes it come across. She makes it come across that I'm not to be trusted, and that nothing I say (especially regarding the boy) is to be believed.
Let me give you an example of this. I once used the word 'kinda' when referring to seeing this guy. I said that I was 'kinda' seeing him. What does that mean to you?
To me, it meant that I was very close to seeing him, and he was starting to view it in that way... that I was on the brink of dating the guy, without having taken the step. If I'm honest, without wanting to take the step. I wanted a friends honest opinion of how to handle the situation...
To her, it meant I was dating him and didn't want to admit it.
So now that I know we speak different languages, it's kinda hard to work out what she means when she says things. (And I just realised the irony of describing that with the word 'kinda')
It's hard being in a house with someone who speaks a different language. It reminds me of this horrible joke that DJ came out with today... it was so spur of the moment and witty that I burst out laughing.
I was in a bad mood and he was on about these two games he couldn't decide between playing. One was 'shooting the hell out of yanks' the other was 'shooting the hell out of super mutants'... or something like that. I - rather uninterested - asked what the difference was?
"One of them speaks English" he replied "The other's american."
"I could have said" he continued "One of them's an ugly, stupid brute; and one of them's a super mutant"
the first one was funnier.
I should probably go into detail as to the DJ issue... but it's long, complicated - and boring - and this post is long enough already without adding that in!
Summary? He was my flatmates ex, we hooked up and I told her I liked him - at which point she exploded because they had basically been threatening to kill each other... things got bad between all three of us because she was trying to get with his bestfriend and he told his mate to back the hell off... which made things awkward... and then my best mate and my other flatmates told me they didn't like him... and he started acting like a dickhead (okay, he started acting like my ex-fiance...same diff yeah?) so I told him to shove off...
but then I kept telling him to come back...
so basically I've been an undecided annoying headfuck - who deserves to be p0wned like a n00b...
I've been trying to make the peace in my flat - but his ex likes to bring it up constantly and have a dig. See, she thinks I literally can't get him to leave me alone and that he's practically stalking me (which she told me he would do...and that he'd probably end up trying to kill me...) where as the only thing I let her see is when I'm frustrated at him. I don't bring him up otherwise. She doesn't see me flirt with him, or ask him round, or go to him for comfort. She sees me in the middle of a bad day get one text too many, look at my phone and just go "Fuck off DJ!" and throw it on the sofa.
So I can see where she's getting the wrong end of the stick and everything... it's just - how do you say to someone "Look, I know you hate this person, and you think I do too, but I kinda still love him a fair bit - so stop slagging him off constantly before I punch you in the face"??
Okay, so I'd say it like that... but the last time we argued thinks got bad and she kinda nearly died (NO!! I did not beat her up or hurt her or nearly kill her! Before you jump to conclusions!) So instead I walk on egg shells and put up with the constant irritation of the DJ subject.
I figure, after the shit I've put up with these past few years, someone hurling abuse would be easy enough to deal with - someone making random snidey harsh comments is a breeze.
I guess I'm kinda sad that I don't think I'll ever really be truly friends with her again. I feel like she's shown a side of herself that I just can't overlook... which I feel bad about. I mean, I used to call her my best friend; now I call her my flatmate... it's kinda bad. But like I said to Lenny, we never treated each other as best friends. The word was used, but the actual being there for each other through everything wasn't. I mean, yes, we were there for each other... but not like, say, me and Li have been. Not like me and Sasha were. We only went through one real life changing thing together - and that ended in bloodshed!
They say certain things will either make or break a relationship. I guess this has broken ours.
I'm not saying I hate the girl!
I still love her in a weird way. I'd still do practically anything for her... but the list of people I'd do virtually anything for is pretty extensive. The list of people I would do absolutely anything for is a fair bit shorter. Most of them are younger relatives...
Sometimes I think that if we could have a fair argument - actually say what we mean to each other; not her backing down or simply repeating something I'm discounting, and not me trying my best to hold back on my tongue - then we might be okay again. Clear the air, so to speak. But we can't.
Why is it girls hold onto these problems??
Last year Li was constantly going on about how Lisa never let things drop. I realised this year two main things.
1) boys think they've addressed and fixed a problem, but normally have swept it under the rug instead - choosing to forgive and forget rather than get hung up on a problem.
2) girls have to argue (or 'discuss') the same thing continuously until everything that can be said has been said at least three times, and everyone is now saying the exact same thing.
Oh, and thirdly - I argue like a boy. Thanks for that Dad.
I never really argued with Mum as a child. She was pretty out of it for a fair while on medication for her back (which she kicked cold-turkey... scary shit! I'm so proud of her strength though) so we never argued. She was either just happy to be spending time with me or being knocked unconscious by the morphine. So daddy was my arguing buddy.
We're both Capricorns, so we butt heads like little rams at times! He always said (and still says to this day) "It's sorted now. It's done. We can forget about it and move on."
Granted, he'll argue black is blue till the cows come home if you let him... and he'll probably prove to you on some intricate level that he has a point (even if it is totally unrelated to the actual question) and only once you agree with him will he let it drop completely... (yeah, that's where I get it from) but the basic principle of 'sort it - leave it' has always been there.
Well, if I continue this post any further it's going to turn into a book. Lets leave it at a soliloquy shall we?
I hope that you're well, and that you continue in your good health for as long as possible
all my love
Blessed be xx
Sunday, 21 November 2010
Time does not bring relief; you all have lied
There's this moment of unspoken confusion, where all of us realise none of us are talking about the same thing. I can barely stand it, wanting to lash out at the people closest to me.
No, that's not true. Wanting to lash out at one person, but knowing that if I let loose it'll be at a completely different one. Friendships are odd like that. You push your pain onto the people who you love the most because you feel that they'll know you don't mean it. It's wrong - but we all do it.
The paranoia kicks in a second later, and I feel as though everyone is turning against me. I know it's just paranoia; I know it's irrational - so I can't show the feeling. Still, the pain is crushing down on me and I don't know how I'm breathing. It doesn't seem possible to breath with this pain in my chest.
I need to get out of here... I think desperately.
It's not unusual for me to randomly run or skip or jump - so I force a smile as I glance at them, then speed off in front. The corner isn't far - and I feel like I'm flying anyway (amazing how that happens when you don't think, when you just throw yourself forwards with all the force of pent up emotion) - I'm there in seconds.
I slow as I begin to reach it, and hide round the corner. I'll pretend to be hiding to jump out at them I decide. But I need this minute (I hope I have a minute at least) before I have to face them again. I need to pull myself together to face that person again. I almost, almost cry.
The sound of a single pair of feet lightly jogging closer have me fixing my face into a smile - getting ready to shout "Boo!"
It's pathetic when it finally comes out - and I fear my covers blown - but he's too consumed by his own problems tonight to force the issue (if he's noticed). A deep breath later and we're all back together again - all confusion replaced by the innuendos again.
The thing is, I thought this problem would fade away. I thought there was this simple golden solution to our problems, and I sacrificed what I could for it. I pulled myself together and used said solution... but it's not fixed anything really. If anything it's made things worse... only this time I don't have a distraction from it, so it's affecting me most. I'm just left with the emptiness where that sacrificed piece of my life used to be, and the broken friendships, and the knowledge that the more time passes the more I resent them both.
My other soul told me to decide this for myself. To make the decision based on my feelings and not worry too much about everyone else. They said they were worried about how things were, and they thought that maybe my golden solution would work. At the same time they warned me that things might not work out for the best - especially if it wasn't what I really wanted.
Thing is, what I really wanted - what I really want - is for a re-do. Start life over and erase all the mistakes. Steal back my virginity, ignore all the bullying and continue to work hard on my studies, push myself to be the best me there is, ignore boys and the long delicious legs that the girls around me slowly revealed; most of all, I wish I could go back and not pretend all the time. Pretend to be happy, pretend I was someone I'm not... just be me, and be happy that way - and make other people see that I was worth their friendship too.
I want to go back to practically the beginning. I don't care about the petty problems that are right here, right now. They're nothing really. They're passing, fleeting - I know I shouldn't focus on them. But there's still the ingrained problems that I hand picked for myself.
There are things I don't regret. I don't regret picking the friends I did when I was young. I don't regret going to the secondary school I went to. I don't regret loving as much, and as hard, and as often as possible - even if it did get my heart broken a million times - because that's been worth every minute (even the ones counted in tears). I can't regret coming to DMU - just because of the people I've met, and the experiences I've had with them... the opportunities they've created for me, and the hope they've inspired me with.
But then you get the details, and it's as if I would have a totally different life if I could.
There are so many people I've lost over the years. That's life. But time hasn't healed any of those hurts. I don't think it ever will. You just learn not to think about them too much.
Still, I had hoped that over time this problem would fizzle into nothing. I thought time really would fix this. Instead it's just getting worse with every passing day.
I'm trying. Trying so hard to make it all okay. Trying to push away the pain and the anger and the hurt, push away the spiteful words that constantly lick my tongue - but it's getting harder instead of easier.
I ended up on the phone in tears again today to my best friend, because some stuff happened and I couldn't talk to my flatmates about it. I just couldn't bring myself to ask for their help in that department - because I know they'd take one persons view, one persons side, and the "help" would be a barrage of instructions and sermons... That was more what caused the tears if I'm honest - that I needed someone, and I had to phone a friend instead of talk to the people I share a home with...
My other soul tries to help. They try to smooth everything over. To pull little invisible strings to make everything better. To say the right thing. They always manage to ease the pain of it all, but the problem wont go away. They say to me "Just follow your heart, the rest will fall into place..." but I'm starting to wonder if I have a heart that works. Sure, you can feel it beat in my chest; if you put your ear against my breast you would hear it pumping away... but the one that my other soul means is that metaphorical one - the construct of the minds emotional center - and mine has been shattered so many times I'm starting to think some of the pieces may be missing. How can I follow my heart when it keeps walking me into a brick wall?
I hold out hope that time really is the healer of all things.
I keep trying to believe that in the end (whenever you're supposed to class things as 'the end') everything will be okay. That my story will end in a happily ever after.
The belief that all of this only matters in a very minute way, and that the basic mechanics of how I am and who I am are what will really shape my future, is the only thing keeping me going at time. That and my closest friends.
But now, now it's time to try and do some work. To put the day behind us all and start again.
Everyday I start again lately.
Is that what life is about?
Time will tell.
Blessed Be xx
No, that's not true. Wanting to lash out at one person, but knowing that if I let loose it'll be at a completely different one. Friendships are odd like that. You push your pain onto the people who you love the most because you feel that they'll know you don't mean it. It's wrong - but we all do it.
The paranoia kicks in a second later, and I feel as though everyone is turning against me. I know it's just paranoia; I know it's irrational - so I can't show the feeling. Still, the pain is crushing down on me and I don't know how I'm breathing. It doesn't seem possible to breath with this pain in my chest.
I need to get out of here... I think desperately.
It's not unusual for me to randomly run or skip or jump - so I force a smile as I glance at them, then speed off in front. The corner isn't far - and I feel like I'm flying anyway (amazing how that happens when you don't think, when you just throw yourself forwards with all the force of pent up emotion) - I'm there in seconds.
I slow as I begin to reach it, and hide round the corner. I'll pretend to be hiding to jump out at them I decide. But I need this minute (I hope I have a minute at least) before I have to face them again. I need to pull myself together to face that person again. I almost, almost cry.
The sound of a single pair of feet lightly jogging closer have me fixing my face into a smile - getting ready to shout "Boo!"
It's pathetic when it finally comes out - and I fear my covers blown - but he's too consumed by his own problems tonight to force the issue (if he's noticed). A deep breath later and we're all back together again - all confusion replaced by the innuendos again.
The thing is, I thought this problem would fade away. I thought there was this simple golden solution to our problems, and I sacrificed what I could for it. I pulled myself together and used said solution... but it's not fixed anything really. If anything it's made things worse... only this time I don't have a distraction from it, so it's affecting me most. I'm just left with the emptiness where that sacrificed piece of my life used to be, and the broken friendships, and the knowledge that the more time passes the more I resent them both.
My other soul told me to decide this for myself. To make the decision based on my feelings and not worry too much about everyone else. They said they were worried about how things were, and they thought that maybe my golden solution would work. At the same time they warned me that things might not work out for the best - especially if it wasn't what I really wanted.
Thing is, what I really wanted - what I really want - is for a re-do. Start life over and erase all the mistakes. Steal back my virginity, ignore all the bullying and continue to work hard on my studies, push myself to be the best me there is, ignore boys and the long delicious legs that the girls around me slowly revealed; most of all, I wish I could go back and not pretend all the time. Pretend to be happy, pretend I was someone I'm not... just be me, and be happy that way - and make other people see that I was worth their friendship too.
I want to go back to practically the beginning. I don't care about the petty problems that are right here, right now. They're nothing really. They're passing, fleeting - I know I shouldn't focus on them. But there's still the ingrained problems that I hand picked for myself.
There are things I don't regret. I don't regret picking the friends I did when I was young. I don't regret going to the secondary school I went to. I don't regret loving as much, and as hard, and as often as possible - even if it did get my heart broken a million times - because that's been worth every minute (even the ones counted in tears). I can't regret coming to DMU - just because of the people I've met, and the experiences I've had with them... the opportunities they've created for me, and the hope they've inspired me with.
But then you get the details, and it's as if I would have a totally different life if I could.
There are so many people I've lost over the years. That's life. But time hasn't healed any of those hurts. I don't think it ever will. You just learn not to think about them too much.
Still, I had hoped that over time this problem would fizzle into nothing. I thought time really would fix this. Instead it's just getting worse with every passing day.
I'm trying. Trying so hard to make it all okay. Trying to push away the pain and the anger and the hurt, push away the spiteful words that constantly lick my tongue - but it's getting harder instead of easier.
I ended up on the phone in tears again today to my best friend, because some stuff happened and I couldn't talk to my flatmates about it. I just couldn't bring myself to ask for their help in that department - because I know they'd take one persons view, one persons side, and the "help" would be a barrage of instructions and sermons... That was more what caused the tears if I'm honest - that I needed someone, and I had to phone a friend instead of talk to the people I share a home with...
My other soul tries to help. They try to smooth everything over. To pull little invisible strings to make everything better. To say the right thing. They always manage to ease the pain of it all, but the problem wont go away. They say to me "Just follow your heart, the rest will fall into place..." but I'm starting to wonder if I have a heart that works. Sure, you can feel it beat in my chest; if you put your ear against my breast you would hear it pumping away... but the one that my other soul means is that metaphorical one - the construct of the minds emotional center - and mine has been shattered so many times I'm starting to think some of the pieces may be missing. How can I follow my heart when it keeps walking me into a brick wall?
I hold out hope that time really is the healer of all things.
I keep trying to believe that in the end (whenever you're supposed to class things as 'the end') everything will be okay. That my story will end in a happily ever after.
The belief that all of this only matters in a very minute way, and that the basic mechanics of how I am and who I am are what will really shape my future, is the only thing keeping me going at time. That and my closest friends.
But now, now it's time to try and do some work. To put the day behind us all and start again.
Everyday I start again lately.
Is that what life is about?
Time will tell.
Blessed Be xx
Friday, 19 November 2010
Exit, persued by a bear
For starters I want to quickly plug my new blog:
L S Bland - fiction
It's basically the start of a story blog. There may end up being several stories being posted in almost chapter form up there, but for now there's one piece of prose up for y'all to read if you want.
The story blog started because I found a piece of writing today while attempting to write a disclaimer with my friend - and, as always, I ended up reading it back. Not just to myself, but aloud. From there I started thinking about the first chapter to the story line that I'd written, and how it would be fun to post it up on here. But then my friend (as usual) complained that he wanted to hear more of the story... so I figured it would be a creative outlet to start a new blog where I could post up my creative writing.
Yes, if you hadn't guessed already, I like writing. I'm not good at it mind, but it's fun none the less.
I struck gold when I got home and found that the chapter I had been looking for months ago in my note books was already typed up on my external hard drive... hence being able to post it at 2am as soon as I got in.
Now, if you've read my blog before you're probably thinking that I've been hijacked and someone else is just using this to promote their own blog... but that is not the case!
Shocking, I know!
The thing is, my blog has been getting extremely emotionally abused lately. This is, in large part, due to the fact I've stopped writing my diary... so it all kinda ends up on here instead. HOWEVER it suddenly struck me today (after I found out that someone I vaguely know had read my blog) that ... get this... people read blogs!
Oh yeah, and... guess what!! They can tell when you're being a tad too honest...
There's this temptation to do what my bff does - which is delete the revealing posts... but then I'd have a blank blog, so there's really no point. Plus, I'm not ashamed of anything I do or say or think or feel... so if anyone doesn't like it, they can pretty much go hump themselves like a camel...
.... did.. did I just say...? Oh screw it! I don't care. I'm asleep already anyway!...
So now that that's over and done with, I suppose I should enlighten you to the interesting goings on of late...
But then again, that would be telling... and a majority of it isn't to do with me (or at least not just me)... and I'd feel like I was infringing on other peoples privacy to divulge the mildly drunken antics of my closest friends...
Check me out, being grown up for once!
I'm such a kid lately!
I've started being all happy and bubbly for no apparent reason. It's kinda cool, though now I'm kinda scared that I'm bi-polar... oh well - as they say "She's schizophrenic, but she's good people"
I mean, I know that in a few days the lows are gonna kick in again. But I'm enjoying the ride for now.
The only things that could make life better at the minute would be having a boyfriend to hold hands with and kiss goodnight, a decidedly lesser attraction to one of my female friends, and a little less attention from someone (who probably reads this and will probably throw a strop later).
Okay, a little more focus for my work would be handy too. But I don't seem to be doing too badly. The motivation is getting there, so I'm sure the focus will follow.
And even though I'm totally paranoid atm, and feel like there's something big and bad following me around (in a metaphorical sense that is, I don't think I have some big scary stalker or anything... though now I've thought about it I'm so gonna have nightmares) so it always feels a bit like I'm looking over my shoulder or being chased. Like I say - Paranoia.
Hence I shall leave this rather unimpressive, impersonal post with my teddy bear in hand!
May you be forever blessed with hope, love and eternal happiness
Blessed Be xx
L S Bland - fiction
It's basically the start of a story blog. There may end up being several stories being posted in almost chapter form up there, but for now there's one piece of prose up for y'all to read if you want.
The story blog started because I found a piece of writing today while attempting to write a disclaimer with my friend - and, as always, I ended up reading it back. Not just to myself, but aloud. From there I started thinking about the first chapter to the story line that I'd written, and how it would be fun to post it up on here. But then my friend (as usual) complained that he wanted to hear more of the story... so I figured it would be a creative outlet to start a new blog where I could post up my creative writing.
Yes, if you hadn't guessed already, I like writing. I'm not good at it mind, but it's fun none the less.
I struck gold when I got home and found that the chapter I had been looking for months ago in my note books was already typed up on my external hard drive... hence being able to post it at 2am as soon as I got in.
Now, if you've read my blog before you're probably thinking that I've been hijacked and someone else is just using this to promote their own blog... but that is not the case!
Shocking, I know!
The thing is, my blog has been getting extremely emotionally abused lately. This is, in large part, due to the fact I've stopped writing my diary... so it all kinda ends up on here instead. HOWEVER it suddenly struck me today (after I found out that someone I vaguely know had read my blog) that ... get this... people read blogs!
Oh yeah, and... guess what!! They can tell when you're being a tad too honest...
There's this temptation to do what my bff does - which is delete the revealing posts... but then I'd have a blank blog, so there's really no point. Plus, I'm not ashamed of anything I do or say or think or feel... so if anyone doesn't like it, they can pretty much go hump themselves like a camel...
.... did.. did I just say...? Oh screw it! I don't care. I'm asleep already anyway!...
So now that that's over and done with, I suppose I should enlighten you to the interesting goings on of late...
But then again, that would be telling... and a majority of it isn't to do with me (or at least not just me)... and I'd feel like I was infringing on other peoples privacy to divulge the mildly drunken antics of my closest friends...
Check me out, being grown up for once!
I'm such a kid lately!
I've started being all happy and bubbly for no apparent reason. It's kinda cool, though now I'm kinda scared that I'm bi-polar... oh well - as they say "She's schizophrenic, but she's good people"
I mean, I know that in a few days the lows are gonna kick in again. But I'm enjoying the ride for now.
The only things that could make life better at the minute would be having a boyfriend to hold hands with and kiss goodnight, a decidedly lesser attraction to one of my female friends, and a little less attention from someone (who probably reads this and will probably throw a strop later).
Okay, a little more focus for my work would be handy too. But I don't seem to be doing too badly. The motivation is getting there, so I'm sure the focus will follow.
And even though I'm totally paranoid atm, and feel like there's something big and bad following me around (in a metaphorical sense that is, I don't think I have some big scary stalker or anything... though now I've thought about it I'm so gonna have nightmares) so it always feels a bit like I'm looking over my shoulder or being chased. Like I say - Paranoia.
Hence I shall leave this rather unimpressive, impersonal post with my teddy bear in hand!
May you be forever blessed with hope, love and eternal happiness
Blessed Be xx
Wednesday, 17 November 2010
"It's all fun and games till someone lops an ear off!"
The tears are blurring my vision, and I look down at the letter I'd been writing. It seems pathetic now. There's so much raw emotion in what he's saying that I can't stop the sobs from coming now.
Phrases stick out at me. "Someone you always looked up to", "hurt you so much", "so blind", "sees through every barrier you have", "stranger"....
I choke back my own confused responses. I never knew... "Time for a walk"
The laptop is discarded, and I'm already on my feet, shaking.
"If you're willing to meet up..." I'm changed in a flash, still swiping at stray tears as the reply comes through "I'm under the bridge x"
My fingers fumble to type a coherent message back as I trip downstairs. The tremors are becoming finer, but not fine enough. I have to see him. That's the only thing I can think. The replies are flying round my head but I can't think straight enough to hear any of them, my heart's hammering too loud to hear anything.
Somehow I manage to fit the key in the door, lock it, then I'm running.
The shock of running isn't as bad as the shock that I can't seem to stop.
Let me just clarify something here. I can't run. Not for more than 5 seconds.
More than that, I don't run. Especially not on frost. Especially not at 2am.
Yet here I am, running towards Upperton Road, unable to stop. All I can think is "slow down! Slow down!" I need time to think. What am I going to say? What am I going to do?
I turn the corner onto Upperton and manage to slow down. Now it's a quick walk. Slow down. And the thoughts are coming faster and faster - but none of them stay long enough for me to nail them down. It's like rain... a torrent of questions, of arguments, or statements, and answers all tumbling through my mind as I try to keep calm and just walk.
Maybe he's not even there. Maybe he's moved. Maybe he doesn't want to be disturbed. Maybe he's with someone else. Maybe... the thoughts move past what he's doing now onto what the hell I'm doing.
I should have stayed in bed. Should have written a reply. Should have called him. Should have done things differently. Should have picked up the stupid letter... The list goes on.
Retorts start to form. "I ran here..", "I had to walk to try and think of something to say, and I still have nothing...", "There's so much I want to say..", "Do you know how many bridges are in Leicester? And do you know how far they all are from mine?"... "So, I read your blog..."
None of them are appropriate. What the hell am I going to say when I get there?
The bridge starts to loom in sight and the butterflies start trying to escape. I'm gonna be sick.... but my feet still wont slow down; and I still can't think of anything to say.
I try to picture how I'll find him. Will he be sat? Stood? Laid down? Upset? Angry? Frustrated? Tired? Happy...? okay that one seems unlikely...
I find myself scrubbing at my face and trying to stop the sniffing so he doesn't know I've cried all the way here. I want to pause at the top of the steps that lead down to the bridge he always refers to as mine, pause to compose myself... but my feet are already thundering down them.
There he is. Laid on his back where we always lie; illuminated by the glow of his phone. I climb up next to him, still searching for something... anything... to say.
"hi..." it comes out as a whisper, almost a whimper. I'm frozen by the lack of words in my head. The shaking has just about stopped though, so I do the only thing I can now (since my mouth is on strike), I lie on top of him in an apologetic embrace...
"I'm sorry..."
"S'ok."
"No... it's not..."
The strange thing is, I wanted to tell him all these things. I wanted to say that he hasn't been open and honest with me. I wanted to have it out with him and actually get everything off my chest. I wanted to tell him he's been hurting me too, constantly... but none of it comes out.
I want to say that the reason I've been shouting at him in public is because he's been pissing me off in public. I want to say that the reason I've been acting like his mum is because he's been acting like a naughty child... but all the harsh words have shriveled up and I can't say anything.
His text goes off again and I leave him to his friend. I don't have to look to know who it is.
Is this how Lisa felt?...
The silence keeps filling up, and I don't know how to break it. Words come to my lips and die there. "How silly are we? Sat here in silence under a bridge?" it wont come out. "This is just like our friendship lately..." it wont come out.
Finally he taps my leg and gets up.
"Come on."
We're walking now and he looks at me.
"Can we be friends again now?" he asks. His voice is almost childlike. So innocent and full of painful hope. I can't even reply. I just hug him - tight.
Things are still whirring round my head, but they're settling down now.
You've heard the saying "cut off your nose to spite your face" ? Well, that's what falling out with him is like for me. It's like cutting away a part of myself in order to sulkily say "there - that'll teach you..."
And that's what makes me swallow all my hurts, and all the angry words; all the stupid comments that I want to yell and cry. Not because I'm in love with him or some soppy crap like that. It's because I value him beyond anything I can explain. I'd take every ounce of pain this world could offer if it took even a drop away from him. It's because I respect him in ways I never expected; as a friend, as a twin soul, as someone I've always looked up to, idolised even. Someone I've finally come to see as real, with faults that make him even more amazing than if he was perfect, someone human...
And what's more, I hold it all back because I'm only just realising that I mean something to him. I always knew in some way... always knew he cared... but I never dreamed he would feel more than a brotherly, patronising warmth towards me. It's like I truly have been blind, to never see past that. To never realise someone who isn't related to me, and under the age of 8, was able to look up to me in any way.
It should be an ego boost, but instead it's humbling.
I want to run away, run home, or further; the need to escape is reaching critical mass. I'm going to explode if I don't get away now. I try to walk away... but he looks at me and there's an expectation there. I can't read that look, but I can't leave him either. Damn.
Friendships are far too hard.
Why can they not be as simple as they used to be?
See, friendships start off simple, and fun, and easy... then they get complicated and hard...
I wish it were all still fun and games.
Oh well, lets face it - the juice is worth the squeeze
Blessed Be xx
Phrases stick out at me. "Someone you always looked up to", "hurt you so much", "so blind", "sees through every barrier you have", "stranger"....
I choke back my own confused responses. I never knew... "Time for a walk"
The laptop is discarded, and I'm already on my feet, shaking.
"If you're willing to meet up..." I'm changed in a flash, still swiping at stray tears as the reply comes through "I'm under the bridge x"
My fingers fumble to type a coherent message back as I trip downstairs. The tremors are becoming finer, but not fine enough. I have to see him. That's the only thing I can think. The replies are flying round my head but I can't think straight enough to hear any of them, my heart's hammering too loud to hear anything.
Somehow I manage to fit the key in the door, lock it, then I'm running.
The shock of running isn't as bad as the shock that I can't seem to stop.
Let me just clarify something here. I can't run. Not for more than 5 seconds.
More than that, I don't run. Especially not on frost. Especially not at 2am.
Yet here I am, running towards Upperton Road, unable to stop. All I can think is "slow down! Slow down!" I need time to think. What am I going to say? What am I going to do?
I turn the corner onto Upperton and manage to slow down. Now it's a quick walk. Slow down. And the thoughts are coming faster and faster - but none of them stay long enough for me to nail them down. It's like rain... a torrent of questions, of arguments, or statements, and answers all tumbling through my mind as I try to keep calm and just walk.
Maybe he's not even there. Maybe he's moved. Maybe he doesn't want to be disturbed. Maybe he's with someone else. Maybe... the thoughts move past what he's doing now onto what the hell I'm doing.
I should have stayed in bed. Should have written a reply. Should have called him. Should have done things differently. Should have picked up the stupid letter... The list goes on.
Retorts start to form. "I ran here..", "I had to walk to try and think of something to say, and I still have nothing...", "There's so much I want to say..", "Do you know how many bridges are in Leicester? And do you know how far they all are from mine?"... "So, I read your blog..."
None of them are appropriate. What the hell am I going to say when I get there?
The bridge starts to loom in sight and the butterflies start trying to escape. I'm gonna be sick.... but my feet still wont slow down; and I still can't think of anything to say.
I try to picture how I'll find him. Will he be sat? Stood? Laid down? Upset? Angry? Frustrated? Tired? Happy...? okay that one seems unlikely...
I find myself scrubbing at my face and trying to stop the sniffing so he doesn't know I've cried all the way here. I want to pause at the top of the steps that lead down to the bridge he always refers to as mine, pause to compose myself... but my feet are already thundering down them.
There he is. Laid on his back where we always lie; illuminated by the glow of his phone. I climb up next to him, still searching for something... anything... to say.
"hi..." it comes out as a whisper, almost a whimper. I'm frozen by the lack of words in my head. The shaking has just about stopped though, so I do the only thing I can now (since my mouth is on strike), I lie on top of him in an apologetic embrace...
"I'm sorry..."
"S'ok."
"No... it's not..."
The strange thing is, I wanted to tell him all these things. I wanted to say that he hasn't been open and honest with me. I wanted to have it out with him and actually get everything off my chest. I wanted to tell him he's been hurting me too, constantly... but none of it comes out.
I want to say that the reason I've been shouting at him in public is because he's been pissing me off in public. I want to say that the reason I've been acting like his mum is because he's been acting like a naughty child... but all the harsh words have shriveled up and I can't say anything.
His text goes off again and I leave him to his friend. I don't have to look to know who it is.
Is this how Lisa felt?...
The silence keeps filling up, and I don't know how to break it. Words come to my lips and die there. "How silly are we? Sat here in silence under a bridge?" it wont come out. "This is just like our friendship lately..." it wont come out.
Finally he taps my leg and gets up.
"Come on."
We're walking now and he looks at me.
"Can we be friends again now?" he asks. His voice is almost childlike. So innocent and full of painful hope. I can't even reply. I just hug him - tight.
Things are still whirring round my head, but they're settling down now.
You've heard the saying "cut off your nose to spite your face" ? Well, that's what falling out with him is like for me. It's like cutting away a part of myself in order to sulkily say "there - that'll teach you..."
And that's what makes me swallow all my hurts, and all the angry words; all the stupid comments that I want to yell and cry. Not because I'm in love with him or some soppy crap like that. It's because I value him beyond anything I can explain. I'd take every ounce of pain this world could offer if it took even a drop away from him. It's because I respect him in ways I never expected; as a friend, as a twin soul, as someone I've always looked up to, idolised even. Someone I've finally come to see as real, with faults that make him even more amazing than if he was perfect, someone human...
And what's more, I hold it all back because I'm only just realising that I mean something to him. I always knew in some way... always knew he cared... but I never dreamed he would feel more than a brotherly, patronising warmth towards me. It's like I truly have been blind, to never see past that. To never realise someone who isn't related to me, and under the age of 8, was able to look up to me in any way.
It should be an ego boost, but instead it's humbling.
I want to run away, run home, or further; the need to escape is reaching critical mass. I'm going to explode if I don't get away now. I try to walk away... but he looks at me and there's an expectation there. I can't read that look, but I can't leave him either. Damn.
Friendships are far too hard.
Why can they not be as simple as they used to be?
See, friendships start off simple, and fun, and easy... then they get complicated and hard...
I wish it were all still fun and games.
Oh well, lets face it - the juice is worth the squeeze
Blessed Be xx
Tuesday, 16 November 2010
To sleep, perchance to dream
How is it, just as I find myself I have to loose my friends??
There must be some kind of logic to this. Maybe being lost served a purpose of some kind, and finding myself again requires a punishment of some kind. That's what this is about.
Or maybe it's just that I've woken up enough to realise that my friends aren't who or what I thought they were anymore. Things have changed too much.
That's what happens when you sleep through two whole years of your life. You wake up and look around going... wait - what happened??
I mean, it's not like I can't remember what happened... just that it doesn't seem real, and I can barely believe any of it. I keep expecting things... and they just aren't there or like that.
I think I put myself to sleep around November 2008, when my brother in-law died. Since then I've:
I've been pretty darn messed up for the past couple years. Not that I was amazingly stable before that or anything, but I swear there's been far too much wrong with me the past couple years for me to even see beyone my own hands. It's like there was a pair of glasses on my face that got so fogged up I couldn't see through them. I could just about make out what was going on, but I didn't even care.
My neices and nephews are growing up... without me... and that's kinda sad.
My parents are turning my room into a spare room...
My brother and sister probably don't know me anymore...
My sister is re-married now...
My friends... how the hell they've managed to put up with me over this period of time I'll never know. But I have to say thank you to them.
Thank you Kaydie, for always being there even when we're biting each others head off, or trying to stop the other from killing themselves - you're still always there for me, and I'm so gratefull for that.
Thank you Libor, for being my rock. For being the person who picked up the peices and held me together while I tried to remember how to do it myself. For kicking me up the ass and making me stand on my own two feet when I was being too stuborn to try. For never being too busy for me when I really needed you. For putting up with all my crap and just generally being the best friend a girl could ever ask for.
See, the thing is, I've come back now... and my closest friends have never really known me like this. They've only known me since I've been asleep... and it's hard to be me and who they expect me to be at the same time.
I suppose it's the choice that comes now, do I try to be who they want me to be, or do I be who I used to be? I don't even know if I can be who I was, maybe too much has changed... but it's worth the try. I've been someone else too long, just sleepwalking through life - dreaming my life away. No more. Time to take stock of what I've left myself with and build a life again.
Wish me luck! ^_^
Blessed Be xx
There must be some kind of logic to this. Maybe being lost served a purpose of some kind, and finding myself again requires a punishment of some kind. That's what this is about.
Or maybe it's just that I've woken up enough to realise that my friends aren't who or what I thought they were anymore. Things have changed too much.
That's what happens when you sleep through two whole years of your life. You wake up and look around going... wait - what happened??
I mean, it's not like I can't remember what happened... just that it doesn't seem real, and I can barely believe any of it. I keep expecting things... and they just aren't there or like that.
I think I put myself to sleep around November 2008, when my brother in-law died. Since then I've:
- been engaged
- cheated on my fiance
- barely passed my first year
- broken up
- fallen for my best friend
- had a mental break down
- been dragged out of a shower
- broken up again
- stopped attending lectures
- had another mental break down
- started using my laptop again
- stopped being able to use my laptop again
- forgot to eat
- forgot to sleep
- somehow managed to pass second year
- slept with my bestfriends ex's
- had another mental break down
- joined the gym
- written songs that all sound the same
- moved in with my best friend
- wanted to kill my best friend
- joined DemonTV
- stopped going to lectures again
I've been pretty darn messed up for the past couple years. Not that I was amazingly stable before that or anything, but I swear there's been far too much wrong with me the past couple years for me to even see beyone my own hands. It's like there was a pair of glasses on my face that got so fogged up I couldn't see through them. I could just about make out what was going on, but I didn't even care.
My neices and nephews are growing up... without me... and that's kinda sad.
My parents are turning my room into a spare room...
My brother and sister probably don't know me anymore...
My sister is re-married now...
My friends... how the hell they've managed to put up with me over this period of time I'll never know. But I have to say thank you to them.
Thank you Kaydie, for always being there even when we're biting each others head off, or trying to stop the other from killing themselves - you're still always there for me, and I'm so gratefull for that.
Thank you Libor, for being my rock. For being the person who picked up the peices and held me together while I tried to remember how to do it myself. For kicking me up the ass and making me stand on my own two feet when I was being too stuborn to try. For never being too busy for me when I really needed you. For putting up with all my crap and just generally being the best friend a girl could ever ask for.
See, the thing is, I've come back now... and my closest friends have never really known me like this. They've only known me since I've been asleep... and it's hard to be me and who they expect me to be at the same time.
I suppose it's the choice that comes now, do I try to be who they want me to be, or do I be who I used to be? I don't even know if I can be who I was, maybe too much has changed... but it's worth the try. I've been someone else too long, just sleepwalking through life - dreaming my life away. No more. Time to take stock of what I've left myself with and build a life again.
Wish me luck! ^_^
Blessed Be xx
Sunday, 14 November 2010
Wouldst thou makst us minstrels?
Do you ever re-evaluate things?
Lately I've been re-evaluating myself. Who am I, what am I...?
There are these little things that you think about yourself, and it's not until you really think about it that you even realise that you had those assumptions. Like, I always assumed I was witty... and now I'm trying to decide if I am or not. How do you decide something like that?
It makes you wonder what you want to be as well. Like - do I want to be witty? And if so, should I then try to be?
I always wanted to be a nice person. Always wanted to be good.
Okay, I don't achieve it, and I'm not a great person... but that's something I know that I want to try to do. That's something I actively want to try and do.
I forget a lot of the time. I'll catch myself doing things, and think - Damnit Lauren, you're supposed to be trying to be a good person! But then I have friends that say I am a good person, and I'm sat here (here being the library where I'm supposedly doing work) trying to decide whether they're too kind or I'm too harsh on myself.
I'm gonna stick with the they're too nice, because that way I'm on the safe side. Always better to try harder to be a better person than let people convince you that you are when you aren't.
Now that my PMT has broken a little it's really easy to feel optimistic and happy(ish) again. It's easy to be idealistic again, and hope that things can actually be as good as we want them to be.
Well, I say easy... it's still hard to keep my mind on a positive track, but it's like this:
My everyday mindset is like swimming upstream. You have this torrential current to fight against, and occasionally it's not as strong as you're used to...
But when I get PMT it's like there's something hooked around my ankles, dragging me not just backwards but under water. My depression becomes totally unmanageable.
I just wish I were regular enough to be able to pre-empt it. Be able to go "Okay, I'm coming on in a few weeks, so I'm going to start feeling like death soon. Preparation time!" But life isn't that simple, is it?
I love just sitting in the library though. I love being a student, I really do. It's as if that's what I've always just been destined to be. I want to study forever - learn everything there is to know. If I could describe my brain, I'd call it a sponge wanna-be, because it just wants to soak everything up and store it. If my brain could only be the internet... that would be AWESOME!!
I can imagine that one day we will be able to interface with the internet in a more permanent way, so that its electronic storage is accessible to us as if it were memory. Intelligence would then be determined not by what people know, but what people believe and how quickly they could access, understand, and mutate the code knowledge. By how much we add to the pool of knowledge.
It would be like being psychic, only you would be able to access history too. Everyone's thoughts just being like a blog that you could go read. Some people putting locks and blocks on theirs for privacy... and there'd be a way to decide what was recorded and what wasn't...
Imagine being able to connect with people through that medium? Thought to thought via the Internet. Being able to fully express yourself. MSN becoming some kind of Vulcan Mind Meld form of communication. Who would ever want to talk again, when you could just open yourselves to each other in that way? Able to see each other through our thoughts and feelings, not just the words we use to try and describe them. Would Language be necessary anymore? When you have pictures, feelings... would understanding still require words?
If we could communicate at the speed of thought, things would be infinitely more possible. We'd be able to do so much more. We'd be able to get on with projects instantly, be able to request funding from afar, in a way that expressed eagerness without needing to hide it. Not needing to hide kinks and faults, because the speed of delivery would mean people wouldn't get the wrong idea from what you were saying. They'd be able to see the entire picture and see exactly what you wanted to do and the way to overcome problems...
See, utopia could be built in a day if we were able to communicate in that way.
Communication is what holds us back as a society. Language is useless against such a barrier, because no matter what, there's always room for misinterpretation. There's always a way to miss-read it, or express it incorrectly. A way to say it wrong. A way to cause problems where there are none.
I suppose that's why I like studying Literature so much. Because there are so many way to read the same thing, and so many things can be expressed by saying so little - if you say it right. And then you can say so so much, without actually saying anything of any importance. You could ramble on for paragraphs and not have made a single point. It's just words that aren't really saying anything in particular.
Speaking of which, I'm going to stop rambling on now ^_^
Blessed Be xx
Lately I've been re-evaluating myself. Who am I, what am I...?
There are these little things that you think about yourself, and it's not until you really think about it that you even realise that you had those assumptions. Like, I always assumed I was witty... and now I'm trying to decide if I am or not. How do you decide something like that?
It makes you wonder what you want to be as well. Like - do I want to be witty? And if so, should I then try to be?
I always wanted to be a nice person. Always wanted to be good.
Okay, I don't achieve it, and I'm not a great person... but that's something I know that I want to try to do. That's something I actively want to try and do.
I forget a lot of the time. I'll catch myself doing things, and think - Damnit Lauren, you're supposed to be trying to be a good person! But then I have friends that say I am a good person, and I'm sat here (here being the library where I'm supposedly doing work) trying to decide whether they're too kind or I'm too harsh on myself.
I'm gonna stick with the they're too nice, because that way I'm on the safe side. Always better to try harder to be a better person than let people convince you that you are when you aren't.
Now that my PMT has broken a little it's really easy to feel optimistic and happy(ish) again. It's easy to be idealistic again, and hope that things can actually be as good as we want them to be.
Well, I say easy... it's still hard to keep my mind on a positive track, but it's like this:
My everyday mindset is like swimming upstream. You have this torrential current to fight against, and occasionally it's not as strong as you're used to...
But when I get PMT it's like there's something hooked around my ankles, dragging me not just backwards but under water. My depression becomes totally unmanageable.
I just wish I were regular enough to be able to pre-empt it. Be able to go "Okay, I'm coming on in a few weeks, so I'm going to start feeling like death soon. Preparation time!" But life isn't that simple, is it?
I love just sitting in the library though. I love being a student, I really do. It's as if that's what I've always just been destined to be. I want to study forever - learn everything there is to know. If I could describe my brain, I'd call it a sponge wanna-be, because it just wants to soak everything up and store it. If my brain could only be the internet... that would be AWESOME!!
I can imagine that one day we will be able to interface with the internet in a more permanent way, so that its electronic storage is accessible to us as if it were memory. Intelligence would then be determined not by what people know, but what people believe and how quickly they could access, understand, and mutate the code knowledge. By how much we add to the pool of knowledge.
It would be like being psychic, only you would be able to access history too. Everyone's thoughts just being like a blog that you could go read. Some people putting locks and blocks on theirs for privacy... and there'd be a way to decide what was recorded and what wasn't...
Imagine being able to connect with people through that medium? Thought to thought via the Internet. Being able to fully express yourself. MSN becoming some kind of Vulcan Mind Meld form of communication. Who would ever want to talk again, when you could just open yourselves to each other in that way? Able to see each other through our thoughts and feelings, not just the words we use to try and describe them. Would Language be necessary anymore? When you have pictures, feelings... would understanding still require words?
If we could communicate at the speed of thought, things would be infinitely more possible. We'd be able to do so much more. We'd be able to get on with projects instantly, be able to request funding from afar, in a way that expressed eagerness without needing to hide it. Not needing to hide kinks and faults, because the speed of delivery would mean people wouldn't get the wrong idea from what you were saying. They'd be able to see the entire picture and see exactly what you wanted to do and the way to overcome problems...
See, utopia could be built in a day if we were able to communicate in that way.
Communication is what holds us back as a society. Language is useless against such a barrier, because no matter what, there's always room for misinterpretation. There's always a way to miss-read it, or express it incorrectly. A way to say it wrong. A way to cause problems where there are none.
I suppose that's why I like studying Literature so much. Because there are so many way to read the same thing, and so many things can be expressed by saying so little - if you say it right. And then you can say so so much, without actually saying anything of any importance. You could ramble on for paragraphs and not have made a single point. It's just words that aren't really saying anything in particular.
Speaking of which, I'm going to stop rambling on now ^_^
Blessed Be xx
Friday, 12 November 2010
The time has come, the walrus said...
Bite the bullet. It's time. You have to do this.
I take a deep breath and hold it. The words have to come out with this next breath, and I can't find them yet. It's as if they get lost in the tumble of thoughts. I look at him, and that familiar unfathomable swirl of emotions starts in my belly. Hate, revulsion, desire, love, sympathy... they get mixed in with the thoughts. Memories of hurting each other, of loving each other, of shared looks, of laughing, of kissing... they flood me for a second and I nearly loose my nerve.
Concentrate!
"You should stay away from me." That's the best I can muster? I feel like a Cullen replication.
"All I do is hurt you..." I try, a torrent of disagreements comes my way "Well, use you then..." I try again.
I have to fight the tears as he says "Fine, I'll go then!" Have to hold my hands firmly at my side to stop myself from reaching out to stop him. Have to bite my tongue to stop from calling him back. The door slams behind him and I finally let myself break down. The tears splattering against the floor, sobs racking through my body.
We weren't even going out - why do I have to end up breaking up with someone I'm not dating?? That doesn't make sense...
But how can I tell my friends? I've spent all this time convincing them we aren't an item, never going to be an item... and then I need consoling after telling him we need to stay apart? How can I tell them, after all this time, that I love the bastard?
How can I tell them that, no matter how much we all dislike him, no matter how much I complain about him, no matter how much of a prick he acts... I love him?
That's been the problem all along. The reason things have never gone right. Not because he can't keep out of my bed as they say, but because I can't help moving to him in that way. I can't help holding him, kissing him, leaning against him. I can't keep just friends cause I feel too much for him.
Yes. I see that things aren't right. I see that we shouldn't be together - even if we do work well together, I'm a wreck with him. Same as before. Same as with Luke. He's negative, we fight all the time (though he always lets me win)... but...
Lets face it, the real reason I can't be with him is he isn't the one. The one is standing there looking at me and saying "I don't really like him... you can do better."
God damn, if it weren't for those perfect eyes looking concern on me I wouldn't care what the world said. I'd enjoy being with him, and tell the rest of the world to go screw themselves.
But there you have it. No matter how much I love the boy who's just walked out in pain, I don't love him as much as him. That so has to change at some point... but I guess not yet.
Give it time...
Till then, I'll just try my best. S'all I can do - right?
And the best I can do right now is end things. Cut the ties and try again.
Blowing my nose, I push away the last of my tears and pick myself up. The sniffling takes longer to cease, but it's time to get on with life.
Like Russell said to me last night "You have to live for now. Not then, not there, not the future - you have to live now. Forget about the sadness of then, and be happy. Don't let people bring you down - they're just on the edges."
Time to live.
Blessed Be xx
I take a deep breath and hold it. The words have to come out with this next breath, and I can't find them yet. It's as if they get lost in the tumble of thoughts. I look at him, and that familiar unfathomable swirl of emotions starts in my belly. Hate, revulsion, desire, love, sympathy... they get mixed in with the thoughts. Memories of hurting each other, of loving each other, of shared looks, of laughing, of kissing... they flood me for a second and I nearly loose my nerve.
Concentrate!
"You should stay away from me." That's the best I can muster? I feel like a Cullen replication.
"All I do is hurt you..." I try, a torrent of disagreements comes my way "Well, use you then..." I try again.
I have to fight the tears as he says "Fine, I'll go then!" Have to hold my hands firmly at my side to stop myself from reaching out to stop him. Have to bite my tongue to stop from calling him back. The door slams behind him and I finally let myself break down. The tears splattering against the floor, sobs racking through my body.
We weren't even going out - why do I have to end up breaking up with someone I'm not dating?? That doesn't make sense...
But how can I tell my friends? I've spent all this time convincing them we aren't an item, never going to be an item... and then I need consoling after telling him we need to stay apart? How can I tell them, after all this time, that I love the bastard?
How can I tell them that, no matter how much we all dislike him, no matter how much I complain about him, no matter how much of a prick he acts... I love him?
That's been the problem all along. The reason things have never gone right. Not because he can't keep out of my bed as they say, but because I can't help moving to him in that way. I can't help holding him, kissing him, leaning against him. I can't keep just friends cause I feel too much for him.
Yes. I see that things aren't right. I see that we shouldn't be together - even if we do work well together, I'm a wreck with him. Same as before. Same as with Luke. He's negative, we fight all the time (though he always lets me win)... but...
Lets face it, the real reason I can't be with him is he isn't the one. The one is standing there looking at me and saying "I don't really like him... you can do better."
God damn, if it weren't for those perfect eyes looking concern on me I wouldn't care what the world said. I'd enjoy being with him, and tell the rest of the world to go screw themselves.
But there you have it. No matter how much I love the boy who's just walked out in pain, I don't love him as much as him. That so has to change at some point... but I guess not yet.
Give it time...
Till then, I'll just try my best. S'all I can do - right?
And the best I can do right now is end things. Cut the ties and try again.
Blowing my nose, I push away the last of my tears and pick myself up. The sniffling takes longer to cease, but it's time to get on with life.
Like Russell said to me last night "You have to live for now. Not then, not there, not the future - you have to live now. Forget about the sadness of then, and be happy. Don't let people bring you down - they're just on the edges."
Time to live.
Blessed Be xx
Tuesday, 9 November 2010
If only dreams would come true
He smiles at me; cupping his hand under my chin and, bringing my face gently towards his, whispers "I love you. Always have, always will."
The words melt, dripping like honey in my ears. My heart thuds in a ridiculous, slow, loud thump, so hard that I think he must have felt it. His other hand snakes round my back, setting the skin there on fire with his touch as I'm pulled inexorably towards him.
The words echo dreamily around my head. "I love you. I love you. I love you." His voice feels like it's everywhere, wrapping me in a blanket so soft I can almost feel its weight.
I try to say it back - but he already knows, and his mouth stops mine with gentle persuasion.
The blanket wraps around us, closer and closer, until it's like there no beginning or end to us. We're laid down in the blanket now, and his strong hands are holding me to him like he never wants to let me go. His hand strokes my hair and I close my eyes, finally feeling at peace with the world. Slowly the feel of his arms fades, and the hand in my hair disappears, and it's time to wake up again, alone - again.
The dream haunts me for weeks. Each time it's slightly different; but every night he holds me in his arms, and tells me he loves me, and every morning it isn't real. It takes a few minutes each time to remember reality, to re-shuffle everything - get it all in its rightful place. The rest of the day spent trying not to think about it. The rest of the night trying not to hope for it to still be real when I close my eyes and drift off to the place where he waits for me.
It's a distraction from everything. I catch myself on the sofa in the kitchen with my eyes closed, trying to remember the feel of his chest against my cheek, the smell of his skin, the taste of his lips. I find myself wearing my biggest hoody so I can snuggle up inside it and pretend his arms are round me. I'm so obsessed with my dream, I forget that I'm not in this loving relationship. Boys continue to flirt with me, and I'm offended. Don't they know I'm in love? Oh wait...
It's just like me to become infatuated with my own creation. If I had been Frankenstein things would have been very strange indeed.
But now I don't know what to do.
Do I confront the feelings? Or let them carry on? Try and forget them?
It's impossible for anything to manifest from it, so it's surely only sensible to force it to stop. But how? You can't just turn your feelings on and off. That's not how they work.
It's a lesson you learn when you're young; one that stays with you through out your life - and I'm having to learn it all over again.
Dreams don't come true.
Hopes and dreams can be fulfilled - but dreams, subconscious plays you act out in your sleep, they can't. They aren't real.
I would attempt an analysis of what the dreams mean, but I already know - already knew before I thought about it - what they're about and why. Anyone who really knew me would understand in a heartbeat. It doesn't matter though - and it never will.
I don't even know why I've posted this... feeling rather weird tonight though, so maybe that's it. Anyway, stay safe
Blessed Be
Sunday, 7 November 2010
If you gave a thousand monkeys a thousand typewritters...
... they'd probably break them and have a great time doing it!
It's like if you gave 1000 Laurens 1000 rooms... they'd still end up a mess, cause that's just what I'm like. Though, being ill has made mine into a complete disaster area lately. My bin is overflowing with snotty tissues because it hurts my head to bend down and pick it up to empty it; my clothes are all over the floor because I haven't the energy to sort them out. My books are in heaps around my bed - because lets face it, once I'm done with them I can't actually get out of bed and put them back; who do you think I am??
It's really pathetic if I'm honest, but hopefully if I kick myself up the bum about it enough times, I'll actually get stuck in and sort at least some of it out. Okay, correction - if I can keep kicking myself about it and stay off Plants VS Zombies, I will get it sorted out.
The really annoying thing is, I haven't really been 'well' this term. I caught a cold just as I got to Leicester, and I've been 'nearly over it' several times, and then I get a new incarnation of it! I must be keeping medical shops in business!
Though, I have to admit, the reason this one isn't getting better is because I've given up trying to get better. I pop some 'max strength cold and flu relief' and go out and party. No, I don't know why - but shush.
I suppose it doesn't help that I've been going through a rough patch lately. I have a long standing relationship with depression, so I'm used to the highs and lows that come with being me. Lately it's been rather low though - and the constant arguing with friends, the constant reminders of the ex, the illness and the deadlines have all been really really rubbish.
I kept randomly breaking down - especially to certain songs. Have you heard the one by Eminem and Rhianna - 'Love the Way You Lie'? Well, I thought it was kinda sweet and sad... then I watched the video...
.... and there was so much in it that I couldn't stop thinking about all the times he'd hit something and I'd be so sure he wanted it to be me. Remember his fist go through the wall, remember him practically kicking the door down when I locked him out, remember him accidentally hurting me, remember him saying sorry, promising it'd never happen again, and again, and again...
Now every time I hear that song I nearly break down. His fist is going through that wall closer and closer to my head in the playbacks. I know I'm making it worse by remembering it - because you always remember wrong... but I can't help it.
All those times he'd say "You know I'd never hurt you..." and then do it. The fact he had to change that saying to "You know I'd never hurt you on purpose..."....
... Then Dj goes and says it. Constantly.... Flashback...
All those times we'd play fight, and he'd take it too far, and I'd be nearly crying, trying to shrug him off, push him off, get him to stop...
... Then Li goes and does it. I started play fighting and then tried to stop... and he wouldn't. Didn't get the memo or something... Flashback...
It's like he's broken me, and everything is just a reminder. Makes it hard to have hope. Makes it hard to believe there's a way to have a relationship that isn't like that. Just sex and abuse and familiarity.
My friends don't really get it. They've never been with someone like Luke. Not for that long. They don't get that you blind yourself to the problems, telling yourself it's all normal. Tell yourself that 'true love' is just a story. "This is true love because it's real" you say. Then you meet this guy who looks after you, cares for you, and doesn't ask for anything in return... and you start to question your standards. Is it possible to have someone care for you and you not have to have sex with them in return? Like, Wait... you mean boys can like you and not want to get in your pants??
It's funny, because if you asked me, I couldn't possibly tell you how I developed that attitude. Trying to reverse it isn't all that easy either. But I am trying.
I've made a promise to myself that it's all gonna get better - even if it takes 1000 Laurens trying 1000 times a day... it will get better. It has to. I said so.
Well, that's my embarrassing little tirade over with.
You probably know a little too much about me now... but oh well!
Blessed Be
xx
It's like if you gave 1000 Laurens 1000 rooms... they'd still end up a mess, cause that's just what I'm like. Though, being ill has made mine into a complete disaster area lately. My bin is overflowing with snotty tissues because it hurts my head to bend down and pick it up to empty it; my clothes are all over the floor because I haven't the energy to sort them out. My books are in heaps around my bed - because lets face it, once I'm done with them I can't actually get out of bed and put them back; who do you think I am??
It's really pathetic if I'm honest, but hopefully if I kick myself up the bum about it enough times, I'll actually get stuck in and sort at least some of it out. Okay, correction - if I can keep kicking myself about it and stay off Plants VS Zombies, I will get it sorted out.
The really annoying thing is, I haven't really been 'well' this term. I caught a cold just as I got to Leicester, and I've been 'nearly over it' several times, and then I get a new incarnation of it! I must be keeping medical shops in business!
Though, I have to admit, the reason this one isn't getting better is because I've given up trying to get better. I pop some 'max strength cold and flu relief' and go out and party. No, I don't know why - but shush.
I suppose it doesn't help that I've been going through a rough patch lately. I have a long standing relationship with depression, so I'm used to the highs and lows that come with being me. Lately it's been rather low though - and the constant arguing with friends, the constant reminders of the ex, the illness and the deadlines have all been really really rubbish.
I kept randomly breaking down - especially to certain songs. Have you heard the one by Eminem and Rhianna - 'Love the Way You Lie'? Well, I thought it was kinda sweet and sad... then I watched the video...
.... and there was so much in it that I couldn't stop thinking about all the times he'd hit something and I'd be so sure he wanted it to be me. Remember his fist go through the wall, remember him practically kicking the door down when I locked him out, remember him accidentally hurting me, remember him saying sorry, promising it'd never happen again, and again, and again...
Now every time I hear that song I nearly break down. His fist is going through that wall closer and closer to my head in the playbacks. I know I'm making it worse by remembering it - because you always remember wrong... but I can't help it.
All those times he'd say "You know I'd never hurt you..." and then do it. The fact he had to change that saying to "You know I'd never hurt you on purpose..."....
... Then Dj goes and says it. Constantly.... Flashback...
All those times we'd play fight, and he'd take it too far, and I'd be nearly crying, trying to shrug him off, push him off, get him to stop...
... Then Li goes and does it. I started play fighting and then tried to stop... and he wouldn't. Didn't get the memo or something... Flashback...
It's like he's broken me, and everything is just a reminder. Makes it hard to have hope. Makes it hard to believe there's a way to have a relationship that isn't like that. Just sex and abuse and familiarity.
My friends don't really get it. They've never been with someone like Luke. Not for that long. They don't get that you blind yourself to the problems, telling yourself it's all normal. Tell yourself that 'true love' is just a story. "This is true love because it's real" you say. Then you meet this guy who looks after you, cares for you, and doesn't ask for anything in return... and you start to question your standards. Is it possible to have someone care for you and you not have to have sex with them in return? Like, Wait... you mean boys can like you and not want to get in your pants??
It's funny, because if you asked me, I couldn't possibly tell you how I developed that attitude. Trying to reverse it isn't all that easy either. But I am trying.
I've made a promise to myself that it's all gonna get better - even if it takes 1000 Laurens trying 1000 times a day... it will get better. It has to. I said so.
Well, that's my embarrassing little tirade over with.
You probably know a little too much about me now... but oh well!
Blessed Be
xx
Wednesday, 3 November 2010
the greatest amusement in the world
What started as fun, and progressed to love, has become bitter and hatefull.
My fists clench as the message passes before my eyes; new waves of anger crashing over my head.
The words themselves have no real malice or meaning, just the same reiterance of a tired old line that had nothing to do with the conversation to start with.
I'm used to this feeling, but normaly I force it away and let it pass before replying. Today my grip on self control slips and a torrent of hatred pours forth. I blame him for everything - something I've only just realised.
The language becomes littered with swearing and typo's and slang. Every harsh reply I've ever bitten back finds its way into the whirlpool of words, every reply he sends working me further into the fit of pure unadulterated rage.
If we were face to face I would have punched him by now. I let him know that I'm on the brink of coming to his and hitting him.
Somehow it turns into a joke, and all of the anger just dissipates.
I try to grasp at the embers of the burnt out fire that was raging inside me, but it doesn't even feel warm anymore.
I sigh and log out.
I've never wanted to be angry at someone that much before. Never clung to it like a shield. Part of me knows it's because she would approve of it, and right now I need her approval in something... anything...
My mind wanders back to when everything first started - how things had gone from bad, to worse, to better, to amazing... back to bad.
I remember the blind date that I couldn't go on, and wonder how it would have been different. Wonder how it's different to ending up with someone you barely knew to start with.
The pattern of love has become one I can't stand. Starting off good, and moving slowly into euphoria... it always ends up in this pit of misery and pain. Why is that?
It always ends with abuse and tears, it always ends with me breaking.
Are all men the same?
Are all people the same?
I hope not.
Today I can hope again. I can see through the fog far enough to walk, so I'll walk on.
Love is a hell, a torture that we all crave...
Blessed be xx
My fists clench as the message passes before my eyes; new waves of anger crashing over my head.
The words themselves have no real malice or meaning, just the same reiterance of a tired old line that had nothing to do with the conversation to start with.
I'm used to this feeling, but normaly I force it away and let it pass before replying. Today my grip on self control slips and a torrent of hatred pours forth. I blame him for everything - something I've only just realised.
The language becomes littered with swearing and typo's and slang. Every harsh reply I've ever bitten back finds its way into the whirlpool of words, every reply he sends working me further into the fit of pure unadulterated rage.
If we were face to face I would have punched him by now. I let him know that I'm on the brink of coming to his and hitting him.
Somehow it turns into a joke, and all of the anger just dissipates.
I try to grasp at the embers of the burnt out fire that was raging inside me, but it doesn't even feel warm anymore.
I sigh and log out.
I've never wanted to be angry at someone that much before. Never clung to it like a shield. Part of me knows it's because she would approve of it, and right now I need her approval in something... anything...
My mind wanders back to when everything first started - how things had gone from bad, to worse, to better, to amazing... back to bad.
I remember the blind date that I couldn't go on, and wonder how it would have been different. Wonder how it's different to ending up with someone you barely knew to start with.
The pattern of love has become one I can't stand. Starting off good, and moving slowly into euphoria... it always ends up in this pit of misery and pain. Why is that?
It always ends with abuse and tears, it always ends with me breaking.
Are all men the same?
Are all people the same?
I hope not.
Today I can hope again. I can see through the fog far enough to walk, so I'll walk on.
Love is a hell, a torture that we all crave...
Blessed be xx
only silence
There comes this point, where the only thing left is the silence. But this silence is just filled with things I'm dying to say.
There's the same tension from him, his silence echoing back my lack of resolve.
I hold myself silent, unwilling to upset what little balance is left
But inside...
I don't know how any of this happened. I keep looking back and I just can't retrace my foot steps as to how I got to this place. It's as if the lights have all turned off and I just can't see anymore.
Mad at me... so simple... but I don't understand.
There's this point where you stop thinking straight and just start looking for reasons everywhere. Did I say this wrong? Did they not like it when I did that? It eats you up and then spits you out.
Into the belly of the beast and out the demons ass...
The worst part is, no one else can explain it to me. Worse than that, no one will.
There's no "X + Y = Z". There's no simplicity left to it... and it makes me shake with surpressed tears.
This is how she felt.
That's all I can think. She felt exactly like this, and didn't understand... couldn't see what she'd done wrong... couldn't see anything.
I just can't deal with being frozen out like this. The person who is my other half, the one who I share everything with, the one I've never fallen out with because there's nothing to ever fall out about... has fallen out with me and wont say why.
I'm left here with a bundle of questions, and some oddly bound duty to hold them inside.
Not to devolve into tears and the plea of "What have I done?"
Not to turn the pain into anger and rage against it.
To stand, and wait, and hope. Hope that it's all just temporary. All just a false alarm.
So why does this alarm ring in my head - the warning of an end?
Fear is gripping me, that's why I lay here in bed and shake.
Why is it so scary?
Maybe because (as you can tell) I'm unravelling at the seems without my friend. Because it hurts more than words can say to think I've hurt the one person who is more me than I'll ever be. Because, without him, there doesn't seem to be anything else.
It sounds like melladramatics. It probably is. So why can I not force it away into it's little rational box? Why can I not stay calm, and think straight, and be human?
I have never been able to imagine a future without my best friend, and now I'm being shown this image of a life torn from him. A life left void without the colour and light that has always followed him.
I sound like a love sick puppy. Embarrassing, indecent, uncomfortable... but I don't care if that's what it sounds like. These feelings wont be contained anymore.
I can't sit and smile and make conversation and act like I'm okay.
I can't pretend I'm not obsessed with the thought that the only person who knows who I really am might hate me. Because, if they do, that must mean I'm not a good person. That must mean that the good person is the fake one, and the real one is...
The silence is only ever a mask. A mask over a tumble of thoughts and emotions too complex, or confidential, to explain.
They talk of a comfortable silence - but that's only when none of the thoughts or emotions NEED to be explained. When they're just implicit.
This silence stretches on in a vigil through the night, keeping me awake by thundering in my ears.
There's the same tension from him, his silence echoing back my lack of resolve.
I hold myself silent, unwilling to upset what little balance is left
But inside...
I don't know how any of this happened. I keep looking back and I just can't retrace my foot steps as to how I got to this place. It's as if the lights have all turned off and I just can't see anymore.
Mad at me... so simple... but I don't understand.
There's this point where you stop thinking straight and just start looking for reasons everywhere. Did I say this wrong? Did they not like it when I did that? It eats you up and then spits you out.
Into the belly of the beast and out the demons ass...
The worst part is, no one else can explain it to me. Worse than that, no one will.
There's no "X + Y = Z". There's no simplicity left to it... and it makes me shake with surpressed tears.
This is how she felt.
That's all I can think. She felt exactly like this, and didn't understand... couldn't see what she'd done wrong... couldn't see anything.
I just can't deal with being frozen out like this. The person who is my other half, the one who I share everything with, the one I've never fallen out with because there's nothing to ever fall out about... has fallen out with me and wont say why.
I'm left here with a bundle of questions, and some oddly bound duty to hold them inside.
Not to devolve into tears and the plea of "What have I done?"
Not to turn the pain into anger and rage against it.
To stand, and wait, and hope. Hope that it's all just temporary. All just a false alarm.
So why does this alarm ring in my head - the warning of an end?
Fear is gripping me, that's why I lay here in bed and shake.
Why is it so scary?
Maybe because (as you can tell) I'm unravelling at the seems without my friend. Because it hurts more than words can say to think I've hurt the one person who is more me than I'll ever be. Because, without him, there doesn't seem to be anything else.
It sounds like melladramatics. It probably is. So why can I not force it away into it's little rational box? Why can I not stay calm, and think straight, and be human?
I have never been able to imagine a future without my best friend, and now I'm being shown this image of a life torn from him. A life left void without the colour and light that has always followed him.
I sound like a love sick puppy. Embarrassing, indecent, uncomfortable... but I don't care if that's what it sounds like. These feelings wont be contained anymore.
I can't sit and smile and make conversation and act like I'm okay.
I can't pretend I'm not obsessed with the thought that the only person who knows who I really am might hate me. Because, if they do, that must mean I'm not a good person. That must mean that the good person is the fake one, and the real one is...
The silence is only ever a mask. A mask over a tumble of thoughts and emotions too complex, or confidential, to explain.
They talk of a comfortable silence - but that's only when none of the thoughts or emotions NEED to be explained. When they're just implicit.
This silence stretches on in a vigil through the night, keeping me awake by thundering in my ears.
Monday, 1 November 2010
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times
Halloween.
Two weeks of planning. Four hours implementation; of latex application, painting, powdering, adding detail here and there. One red, one dead... all we need now is a redemption...
The joy of creating a zombie peters out though, and the blob of red in the mirror is almost too much to take.
The zombie finds his red demon, trying to talk herself into leaving her room, into not feeling like curling up in bed and never getting out of it. Normally he's a comfort, so why is it that she shys from him now? His hand comes up to cup her red cheek, and she turns away, practically flinching. I don't want you to see me like this. There are tears threatening to ruin her blushing skin, but he holds her in a state of perplexity and slowly convinces her to come out.
Soon they're at the next house on the list, painting faces, applying nails, drinking...
Everyone is having fun, so why does the fight start? It's just a game, but it turns real too quickly. She hides again, when no one is looking. Found again, this time with white eyes and cheeks where salt water has washed her red skin away. Again, she backs away from his touch. Again, she sees the confusion and hurt in his eyes. Again, she agrees to come out - but the damage is done. She's seen to much to believe her friend is still alive under the transformation, and knows that if it's true it's her fault.
Red pixies must cry on the inside; at least for the night.
You know what, I always thought that it was a paradox to say that it was the best of times and the worst of times. But I think I'm starting to understand.
The thing with life is that it's not one thing at a time. Maybe Tolstoy had an idea of quantum theory all those years back, where things are not either/or but both/and. Maybe not.
Still, it's interesting how our highs and lows not only flow into a progressive sequence, but also occur simultaneously.
It's hard to think of an example - but it's kinda like this:
You can spend your time with someone who makes you feel SO happy, who can make life seem like it can't possibly get any better; who makes you feel on cloud nine, filled with ecstasy. But at the same time you constantly have to remember that you can't be with that person in any intimate way - ever. That pain is like being dragged backwards through hell. But they're both happening at the same time. The best and the worst all rolled into one.
I don't know if that's real or not... it's just the best example I could come up with on short notice.
But it's like this year at uni. It's been the best and worst time of my life! I have this amazing flat full of incredible girls who I can laugh or cry with, I have all these friends who I spend so much time with, I'm enjoying my course finally, I'm feeling better and better about things... but on the other side of it there's my flat mates re-occurring suicide attempts, there's the fact that I have no money what-so-ever and may not be able to pay my rent next month, there's the over-bearing weight of the work load that's crushing me, and there's the boy problem that I can't even begin to go into.
I've never been so conflicted.
You try and throw yourself into work, but it just doesn't work. Like there's a force field - bouncing you back into the abyss of confusion. You say it's not fair - but in reality, it's you that isn't being fair. You're not being fair on life for going along in a manner that makes everything so much harder - and then blaming it on life instead of you.
I know that my problems are self-originating. So why can I not fix them?
Hmm...
Blessed Be xx
Two weeks of planning. Four hours implementation; of latex application, painting, powdering, adding detail here and there. One red, one dead... all we need now is a redemption...
The joy of creating a zombie peters out though, and the blob of red in the mirror is almost too much to take.
The zombie finds his red demon, trying to talk herself into leaving her room, into not feeling like curling up in bed and never getting out of it. Normally he's a comfort, so why is it that she shys from him now? His hand comes up to cup her red cheek, and she turns away, practically flinching. I don't want you to see me like this. There are tears threatening to ruin her blushing skin, but he holds her in a state of perplexity and slowly convinces her to come out.
Soon they're at the next house on the list, painting faces, applying nails, drinking...
Everyone is having fun, so why does the fight start? It's just a game, but it turns real too quickly. She hides again, when no one is looking. Found again, this time with white eyes and cheeks where salt water has washed her red skin away. Again, she backs away from his touch. Again, she sees the confusion and hurt in his eyes. Again, she agrees to come out - but the damage is done. She's seen to much to believe her friend is still alive under the transformation, and knows that if it's true it's her fault.
Red pixies must cry on the inside; at least for the night.
You know what, I always thought that it was a paradox to say that it was the best of times and the worst of times. But I think I'm starting to understand.
The thing with life is that it's not one thing at a time. Maybe Tolstoy had an idea of quantum theory all those years back, where things are not either/or but both/and. Maybe not.
Still, it's interesting how our highs and lows not only flow into a progressive sequence, but also occur simultaneously.
It's hard to think of an example - but it's kinda like this:
You can spend your time with someone who makes you feel SO happy, who can make life seem like it can't possibly get any better; who makes you feel on cloud nine, filled with ecstasy. But at the same time you constantly have to remember that you can't be with that person in any intimate way - ever. That pain is like being dragged backwards through hell. But they're both happening at the same time. The best and the worst all rolled into one.
I don't know if that's real or not... it's just the best example I could come up with on short notice.
But it's like this year at uni. It's been the best and worst time of my life! I have this amazing flat full of incredible girls who I can laugh or cry with, I have all these friends who I spend so much time with, I'm enjoying my course finally, I'm feeling better and better about things... but on the other side of it there's my flat mates re-occurring suicide attempts, there's the fact that I have no money what-so-ever and may not be able to pay my rent next month, there's the over-bearing weight of the work load that's crushing me, and there's the boy problem that I can't even begin to go into.
I've never been so conflicted.
You try and throw yourself into work, but it just doesn't work. Like there's a force field - bouncing you back into the abyss of confusion. You say it's not fair - but in reality, it's you that isn't being fair. You're not being fair on life for going along in a manner that makes everything so much harder - and then blaming it on life instead of you.
I know that my problems are self-originating. So why can I not fix them?
Hmm...
Blessed Be xx
Saturday, 23 October 2010
It is a truth universally acknowledged...
There's something that has to happen, but I can't seem to remember what. Everything seems to have vanished from my mind as I lay here, starring dazedly somewhere between the ceiling and the boy next to me. He seems to be asleep, but I can feel the tension between his shoulder blades even from this distance.
The release was enough, but now there's something that has to happen. He's waiting for it. I'm supposed to say something - but god knows what it is.
I don't particularly care anyway. He isn't the one I was thinking of. He never is. Whoever he is.
The numbness that always follows is seeping away now in a slow way. It starts in my chest, allowing the pain to pool and eddy there. I know it'll soon spread and become part of my whole.
Slowly, or perhaps it only seems that way to me, he turns away. Disappointed. I missed my queue again; but I don't care. I take this reprieve to piece myself back together. Slowly reassemble the armour that dulls the pain, slowly build the wall that blocks out the world, carefully replace the face that shows them what they want to see.
I never get the eyes quite right.
Now it clicks into place. The embrace. The "I love you". It seems too late for the latter now (thankfully), so I turn and wrap my armoured arm around his chest. My leg follows suit and slips over his in some remembered entwinement. I've played this part before. I'm a natural.
His hand finds mine and holds me to him, grateful. Loving.
My tears go unfallen and I force myself to sleep.
This game, this play that we call love; it is nothing. It has feeling, true enough, but it is nothing in comparison to Love. Like the memory of the love I have felt, I let it echo through me and channel it where it needs to be. Drawing on some well of amour to replicate it down the line; while all the time holding that real love deep inside somewhere. Forcing it down and out of sight, but never out of mind. Pushing it away like a naughty child begging for comfort. As though the feeling is wrong.
Perhaps it is wrong; but I'll never admit to it. How can love be wrong?
But enough of this pathetic diatribe.
Happier next time.
Blessed be.
The release was enough, but now there's something that has to happen. He's waiting for it. I'm supposed to say something - but god knows what it is.
I don't particularly care anyway. He isn't the one I was thinking of. He never is. Whoever he is.
The numbness that always follows is seeping away now in a slow way. It starts in my chest, allowing the pain to pool and eddy there. I know it'll soon spread and become part of my whole.
Slowly, or perhaps it only seems that way to me, he turns away. Disappointed. I missed my queue again; but I don't care. I take this reprieve to piece myself back together. Slowly reassemble the armour that dulls the pain, slowly build the wall that blocks out the world, carefully replace the face that shows them what they want to see.
I never get the eyes quite right.
Now it clicks into place. The embrace. The "I love you". It seems too late for the latter now (thankfully), so I turn and wrap my armoured arm around his chest. My leg follows suit and slips over his in some remembered entwinement. I've played this part before. I'm a natural.
His hand finds mine and holds me to him, grateful. Loving.
My tears go unfallen and I force myself to sleep.
This game, this play that we call love; it is nothing. It has feeling, true enough, but it is nothing in comparison to Love. Like the memory of the love I have felt, I let it echo through me and channel it where it needs to be. Drawing on some well of amour to replicate it down the line; while all the time holding that real love deep inside somewhere. Forcing it down and out of sight, but never out of mind. Pushing it away like a naughty child begging for comfort. As though the feeling is wrong.
Perhaps it is wrong; but I'll never admit to it. How can love be wrong?
But enough of this pathetic diatribe.
Happier next time.
Blessed be.
Monday, 11 October 2010
Words... words... words...
It's gotten to the point where I have no words left, and I no longer know what to say. I can see that he's looking for me to save him with some words of comfort, or knowledge; of understanding. Anything. But my mind is just blank.
The cursor flashes out its own heart beat, waiting for the letters to flow into existance. It blinks at me, and I blink back. My fingers are stilled to silence as I hazily gaze at the text floating on the screen.
"Dj is writting..." continues to show at the bottom of the conversation. The text moves again and I stare past the words at the paleness behind them.
"Dj is waiting..."
There's nothing left in me to offer up as comfort. Haven't they bled me dry already?
To die, to sleep... to sleep perchance to dream; Aye there's the rub - for what dreams will come if I never get to sleep again?
Three hours last night. Three. And now here I sit, still awake, still tapping away at keys long untouched. The night continues quietly around me for once. The neighbours music is turned off (or at least so far down I can't hear it), there is hardly any traffic, my flat mates are no doubt sound asleep. Yet here I sit. Attempting to comfort someone 30 miles away without words.
I have to be up at 9, though my alarm is always set for (and slept through) 8.00am. Evil alarm. I'm not a morning person - and I never will be. The only time I'm awake before 9.30am is when I've not been to sleep yet. Which happens very frequently if I'm honest - but that ISN'T the point.
Reading Wolf Hall for my contemporary fiction module atm. It's good - though I know nothing of the period it's set in. Thomas Cromwell... the name rang a bell (eventually) but I have no idea who he was, or if this novel is in any way accurate. I remember something vague about Henry VIII having 6 wives, and a rhyme about how he moved between them... but other than that I'm at a loss as to ingenuity and genuine fact. I was supposed to have read it for last thursday - but it's hard to read when you have a blinding headache and can't stop coughing... even harder to attend lectures. So here I am - first week finished - and I've attended a whopping 1 out of 5 lectures.
Dr. Hurt examined my chest though and pronounced that it wasn't a chest infection, so I should be fine soon. No getting pnuemonia and dying of plague.
I don't know why i'm even writting this if I'm honest - it's late, I'm ill, all I can think about is the stupid relationship web that keeps getting all tangled up lately. Do you ever get to that point, where everyone seems to be involved with someone else? And yet, they aren't, and they're also involved with you... and then things start getting complicated because someone says "I don't like the relationship you have with so-and-so", and then friends become enemies, become lovers, become friends... it's all too complicated.
I think there should be some kind of enema for all this rubbish.
See - seeee! This right here - this COMPLICATED crap - this is the reason I never had a social life. They're confusing!
Oh well, live and let live... die and feed on human flesh... mmm brains...
Did I mention I'm working on this project called "Do Zombies Dream of Undead Sheep?"
It'll be great. Though even if they do... I don't think they count them.
Zombie counting would be an awesome way to get to sleep though "Brains... more brains... more brains... more..." you get the idea.
I've just realised I have a propensity for over using ellipses...
and a complicated desire for propinquity...
Oh well - ramble over
blessed be
The cursor flashes out its own heart beat, waiting for the letters to flow into existance. It blinks at me, and I blink back. My fingers are stilled to silence as I hazily gaze at the text floating on the screen.
"Dj is writting..." continues to show at the bottom of the conversation. The text moves again and I stare past the words at the paleness behind them.
"Dj is waiting..."
There's nothing left in me to offer up as comfort. Haven't they bled me dry already?
To die, to sleep... to sleep perchance to dream; Aye there's the rub - for what dreams will come if I never get to sleep again?
Three hours last night. Three. And now here I sit, still awake, still tapping away at keys long untouched. The night continues quietly around me for once. The neighbours music is turned off (or at least so far down I can't hear it), there is hardly any traffic, my flat mates are no doubt sound asleep. Yet here I sit. Attempting to comfort someone 30 miles away without words.
I have to be up at 9, though my alarm is always set for (and slept through) 8.00am. Evil alarm. I'm not a morning person - and I never will be. The only time I'm awake before 9.30am is when I've not been to sleep yet. Which happens very frequently if I'm honest - but that ISN'T the point.
Reading Wolf Hall for my contemporary fiction module atm. It's good - though I know nothing of the period it's set in. Thomas Cromwell... the name rang a bell (eventually) but I have no idea who he was, or if this novel is in any way accurate. I remember something vague about Henry VIII having 6 wives, and a rhyme about how he moved between them... but other than that I'm at a loss as to ingenuity and genuine fact. I was supposed to have read it for last thursday - but it's hard to read when you have a blinding headache and can't stop coughing... even harder to attend lectures. So here I am - first week finished - and I've attended a whopping 1 out of 5 lectures.
Dr. Hurt examined my chest though and pronounced that it wasn't a chest infection, so I should be fine soon. No getting pnuemonia and dying of plague.
I don't know why i'm even writting this if I'm honest - it's late, I'm ill, all I can think about is the stupid relationship web that keeps getting all tangled up lately. Do you ever get to that point, where everyone seems to be involved with someone else? And yet, they aren't, and they're also involved with you... and then things start getting complicated because someone says "I don't like the relationship you have with so-and-so", and then friends become enemies, become lovers, become friends... it's all too complicated.
I think there should be some kind of enema for all this rubbish.
See - seeee! This right here - this COMPLICATED crap - this is the reason I never had a social life. They're confusing!
Oh well, live and let live... die and feed on human flesh... mmm brains...
Did I mention I'm working on this project called "Do Zombies Dream of Undead Sheep?"
It'll be great. Though even if they do... I don't think they count them.
Zombie counting would be an awesome way to get to sleep though "Brains... more brains... more brains... more..." you get the idea.
I've just realised I have a propensity for over using ellipses...
and a complicated desire for propinquity...
Oh well - ramble over
blessed be
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