I woke up this morning after a strange dream involving me pulling four brothers around Carrick on a wagon thing (Dennis the Menace red thing, sort of…). On our journey, we ended up in… Well, I’m not going to say where we ended up or who we met, but it meant that I woke up feeling miserable and nostalgic and on the brink of tears. And then I cried. I hate memories. I hate that things happened before and they’re no longer happening. I hate how sometimes I wake up really early in the morning and go to the bathroom or whatever and come back into my room and just get this feeling while looking at my bed in the dim light of early morning and remember. Remember things I’d pay to forget. Is this another of those terribly important Life Lessons and I just have to wait out this terrible remembering thing? One day life will be amazing all over again and I won’t be guilt-ridden and miserable and penniless.
Some people are a lot worse off. I don’t know how good I have it. Things could be worse, of course they could. But I want company and money and parties. And since I don’t have those, my one track mind is telling me that I have nothing. And I’m practically illiterate. And I have an itchy leg. Since, I dunno, the other day. As if things weren’t bad enough, ja?
The Internet is being cumbersome lately. Slow and awkward and unresponsive. I know the feeling.
I also dreamt last night about this dress I saw in a charity shop that I’d apparently paid a tenner to get altered and then never purchased. It was a really nice dress too… A kind of charcoal navy-ish colour. And silky. Sort of like the dress my sister has but probably not as nice, since it was only in my head and I’m not that imaginative. My sister’s dress is beautiful. I think it cost three hundred yo-yo’s though. Which is fair enough if you have three hundred yo-yos stuffed in your pocket (or Louis Vuitton purse), but I don’t (and possibly/ probably never will) so, to me, it just seems a very obscene amount to pay for a dress. But whatevs.
How can I make today wonderful? I’m thinking titration questions, History special topic, revision of Renaissance art, lengthy shower, tracksuit and company. I really want company. I can’t get enough of people lately. I want my friends around. Please.
All this thinking about last night’s dreams and me wanting company has made me feel twice as miserable as when I started this post. Damn.
Coffee and titration questions, yes? Someone say something amazing.
And hug me. Thank you. And buy me €20 credit. And a new dress. And a grey coat. And take me to a party and get me suitably shitfaced. Take advantage of me if you want (or take my limited funds), I don’t care: just ensure that I am inebriated to the point of slurred speech (or obnoxiously loud speech, as is my tendency), and falling over so many times that I bang my head and get concussion and forget everything. Don’t let me cry. If I start acting up in that regard, put me out in the garden or send me walking home. I’ll honestly be fine, I’m just a miserable bitch.
I sort of miss JF. Which is bizarre. Considering I never really knew you at all. I never knew a thing about you. Maybe I just miss the idea of you.
I also miss Ciarán.
And everyone else. I miss everyone. I miss two years ago. Which is strange because two years ago I was a lot further from happiness than I am now. But, I don’t know, it was nice. There was a sort of community. Even if it wasn’t a very genuine or pleasant community. I don’t know. I really don’t.
I miss three years ago when everything was so simple. I miss that brown jacket and those pink shoes and our sleepovers and chicken curry and those exploits. I miss the you that you were. It’s crazy. It’s sort of funny that we don’t even talk anymore. It’s not funny, it’s strange. It’s sad.
Ughh. Everything is sad today. One of those days, innit?