I’m hungover. Or maybe just tired. I don’t know. Last night was strange. I’m using that word a lot lately. Because everything feels strange and wrong. But not wrong in a catastrophic way. Just in a way that means the whole world is slightly off balance or slightly moved to the left or something. But it’s not right. It all feels very uncomfortable and very strange.
But right now at this moment in time, it could feel a whole lot worse. Things will get better. They have to. I won’t be in this situation forever. I can’t be. I refuse to be. Things will change again. The wheels of fortune keep turning and that…
I’m clean and my room is clean and Windows Media Player is on shuffle and I refuse to feel guilty about the sheer mountain of homework I ought to be doing now. Life is far too short (and only getting shorter) for me to beat myself up about something that I’m fully capable of resolving at a later date. The homework can wait, I need a nap and a stab at recovery.
I’m not going to drink again. I know I say that a lot but I do mean it this time. I’m not able to contend with those dreary feelings at the best of times, let alone when I’m filled with Bulmers and watching other people’s conversations unfold in the nicest possible way. So never again. Or at least not for a few months anyway. Cidona in the meantime, thanks very much.
I talked to Raymond last night on Skype for three or four hours. It was strange. I’ve known him for three years and we’d never talked before last night. It was weird. It was lovely. It was a milestone. <3
In other news, my comb has gone on the missing list. I’m also hungry and feeling vulnerable and have a headache that would take down a terrorist. My poor tummy too. Think I’ll watch X Factor in a bit. Missed it last night. Hope it was good.
I sort of miss Daniel. We had nice conversations. He seemed like a nice boy. Wise and arty and a complete sweetheart. But there are some people in the world who are only interested in your misery because it makes their lives seem comparatively better. If you’re anything other than depressed and low, they’re not listening. In fact, if they’re anything like Daniel, they’re resentful and call you a cunt and tell you that your family hates you. Why do I miss this boy? :/ Ughh.
Cuddles, please. Thank you kindly.
Tea and bread would go down nicely now, I think. Maybe a nap and some German afterwards. Jolly good.