You, me, a kitten, and a tiny apartment.

I am awfully in love.
Not in a kissy kissy, lovey dovey, look at me and all my pictures of myself kissing my boyfriend way.
Not even in a stay away from your friends, always on the phone, never stop talking about him way.

I just love him.
I don't love everyone else's opinion of "us".
I don't love everyone else's "us".

Just him.
Finally getting a moment to ourselves, eating dinner quietly with each other, falling asleep against the rise-and-fall of his back.
Occasional phonecalls when I'm away.
Very occasional proclamations - all the better; what's rare is wonderful.

We're like a married couple, but still with the fireworks.
It's a private show, and I'm so fucking lucky.

That's all.

exeunt

listening to florence and the machine, lovely stuff.
i feel a little transcendent, a little removed from reality.

escaping is nice, but it can't happen for too long. there's rent to pay. bills to take care of. health issues to worry about. parents to mollify. relationships to fix. journeys to arrange. apartments to clean. hair to dye.

mm, well, maybe it's not all that bad. but it's real, and it needs concentration when all i want to do is lie down and cry. i was reading about the menstrual cycle a few days ago, and apparently this urge to demolish is caused by withdrawal symptoms. when your body realises it's not pregnant it gets grumpy and dumps all your happy hormones. thus my screaming rages.

:D !

on a more positive note:
i'm being blessed with a beautiful kitten sometime next week. i'm hoping this will help calm me. i'm not naturally a nurturing person, so this will bring a good side to me.
and calm ayfa equals happy ayfa, which equals happy relationship.
also, i'm jaunting up to see coldplay this weekend. they should be good. i've been a fan since before i can remember, thanks mom.
i finally got diagnosed last week, after two years of incompetent doctors. so once i get all my tests sorted out, i should be well on my way to full recovery.

it's a pity i get so bogged down by the negative side of life.

sick and tired

people just keep getting uglier and uglier.

i’m naturally observant, and naturally aggressive. so when i see oversized sunglasses, coontails and neon-pink converse, i want to pick up an armalite AR-10 carbine gas-powered semi-automatic weapon and stalk from hangout to hangout, pumping round after round into scenefags and indiekids.

i look at billboards, magazine advertisements, nu-indie bands, internet models and so on, and i watch to vomit all over their quasi-beautiful images. i don’t find a drunk-looking girl with massive glasses and a cigarette attractive, and i don’t find her protuberant ribs attractive either. what saddens me is that most people i know (even the ones i respect - to a point) would look at that image and see a goddess. they want to be like her. they want to starve themselves.

think about it.
people starve themselves.


i want to live in a far-off galaxy, on an orange farm.

Oh hello, hypochondria.

Fissure

If having free will means we break the laws of physics, then so be it.


Let's go create a black hole together.

belong

prolong.

i never was a big fan of "cliques". i never really followed a "crowd". and, thinking retrospectively, i was always outside any inner sanctum of people. sure, i hung around with groups, and chatted and talked and confided, but i always felt disconnected. i hadn't shared my childhood with any of these people. i hadn't grown up with them. i didn't feel as wanted as them. maybe that's because of the fact that i was always in flux during my childhood and teenaged years. always moving country, or house, or school. always leaving a group of friends to try and fit in with another, and i always knew that i never would.

it started in dublin. i spent my first year of school there, and the general consensus was that the people who knew each other from kindergarten were super cool, and the other kids were outsiders.
i moved to cork in senior infants. i was the new girl, and everyone stared, and people were quiet and careful around me, and the teachers didn't know what to think. i don't remember who my friend was, then.
we moved to primary school. i began to fit in, and those six years were the longest period of friendships in my life. i made two really great friends: sandra and elaine, and we drew and traded pokémon cards to our hearts' content.
towards the end of primary school, people started to change. decisions had to be made, and some of us went to a school outside our town. the majority went to the local community school. i wasn't very familiar with the girls i was moving with, but i liked them.
secondary school began. first year was awkward at first. groups tip-toed around each other, trying to find openings and similarities, and eventually we began to settle, and understand each other. second year was more comfortable, and third year was a riot of rivalries and activity.
my parents decided to change my school, then. i raged and ranted and stormed and argued and ignored, but they wouldn't change their minds. i was going to go to a school where i knew no one, and where no one knew me. my first day was agonising. i imagined all the girls in my old school, and i was furiously jealous of the new friendships they would forge while i struggled to fit in, ONCE again.
surprisingly, i was welcomed with open arms. people liked me. i was small and easily excitable, and i was unpredictable and slightly rude. they loved it, god knows why. i made friends with a small group within the year who weren't as plastic-coated, and fifth year passed without any major fuckups.
sixth year was different. everyone was older than me, and soon everyone was going to the pub, and hitting the clubs, and i was left behind. my parents were strict, and i was too young, quickly getting too young for the crowd that threatened to swallow me up.
i backed away. i was scared by the sex and the drinking and the adulthood.
i found something in the fifth years at the time. they appealed to me more - they played guitar and hung out on the beach. they were as young as me, and i wanted to be like them. i gently poked my nose into their lives, and for a while i felt like i could belong again.
for a while.

things change, people change.
lack of understanding destroyed my friendship with the latter group. my life turned upside down, and no one could bring themselves to walk in my shoes. prejudice reigned. some whispered scornfully ("manipulative bitch") behind my back. i ignored it as best i could, and went on with trying to find myself a home.

then, i found him.
another unsure, wandering soul. another weirdo, another outsider.
i fell for him; my other half.
i don't romanticize it. i don't sugarcoat it.
he gets me. i get him.




and in the end, that's pretty much all you need.
trial and error.
i'm happy now.