I miss it all.
I miss trips to Asda at four in the morning. Always having someone to come home to. Having a second home. Feeling part of something, wanted, loved and needed. The 'when are you home?' texts. Living off pizza and chips. Going out on a Monday night, because it's 'out out' on a Wednesday. Light hearted arguments about where we'd go. Cinema trips. Spending too much money. Persuading those two that we ought to 'get on it'. Playing pool at The Mile. Fresh, early morning air. Putting up posters. Watching films in the hall way. The sofa off the street. Play fights. Drunken chats in the kitchen. Late night heart to hearts. Spilling WKD all over the floor. The cleaners moving everything. The over powering smell of Lynx. The smokers area in the courtyard. Little 'see you Monday' notes before going home for the weekend. Meeting new people. Drunken rants and cleaning up. Charcoal Grill after every night out. Mistakes. Kissing guy friends and it not being awkward. Kissing guy friends and it being extremely awkward. Lying in bed waiting for the heater to warm up. Power showers. Football in the hall at 3am. Hating on the flat across. Actually wanting to be friends with the flat across. Making up stories. Chats in my bedroom. Procrastinating. Ignoring homework. Phone calls and last minute everything. Trips across to Sainsburys just before midnight. The money machine. Screaming the lyrics. Holding hands. Chatting to bouncers and the guys in the takeaway. Medicine corner. Turning up to lectures incredibly exhausted, last night's stamp still on my hand. Pretending I've done homework and convinently forgetting it, when really I was drunk the night before. That feeling of complete suffocation. Depending on them. Confessions and declarations of 'I fucking love you'. Stealing road signs. 'How was the gig last night?' Playing music unbearably loud. Rock Band and Guitar Hero. 'Xbox Bummers'. Breakdowns. Double disaronno and coke. Jaegerbomb, jaegerbomb. Using jaegermister as cough medicine. Testing to see who has the comfiest bed. Sitting at the back of the lecture theatre reading Kerrang! instead of making notes. Using jaeger shots as cough medicine. Freshers flu. Eating too much. The smell. The Christmas tree fiasco. Trying to hide the stolen road sign in the roof. Stealing the sign in the first place. Taxi to Asda. Bowling. Gala Bingo. Inside jokes that went on forever. The first night to the very last. I miss it all.
Damn, those tarrot cards were right.
Sunday 28 November 2010
Tuesday 16 November 2010
I'm a mess in a dress,
I'm so 'blah' at the moment.
Depressed best friend. Other friends who don't know what they want. Course friends who say one thing and do another. People in general. Trains being delayed. Cold weather. So much fog, you can barely see. Dull lectures. Never feeling quite good enough. Writer's block. Nothing sounding how I wanted it to. Feeling inadequate. Left in the lurch. Vile little sister. Vile little sister's boyfriend. Suffocating. Same old routine.
One of my more distant friends from school got the job she's always wanted. She got an interview for RyanAir and they gave her the job. In January, she's going to travel all around Europe. Hearing about things like that give me real hope. I only read Kerrang for the gig reviews. That's what I want to do. I don't think I'll ever get a book published.
Writing doesn't consume me, it isn't my entire life. I don't live and breathe it. I rarely do my homework. I write whatever's in my head at that time, type it up, tweak it slightly and hand it round my focus group. Sometimes, it's liked by all four of them, sometimes, it's ripped to pieces. I don't take it too seriously. It's the only thing I've ever consistently done and consistently been slightly good at. I over hear people in class talking about entering competitions and sending pieces off to be published. Then, I hear the majority talking about the next anime convention, and I don't feel like I'm fucking up entirely. I'm part of a majority that hasn't let a university course swallow them up. I have to think about other things.
Although it's terrifying to think that come graduation in 2012, all of this will have been for nothing.
We're going to Florida. Orlando again. We hope. Mum says it'll be our last holiday. Lanzarote was supposed to be, but really, it was a nightmare I'd like to never re-live. My sister is throwing a spanner in the perfect works, as usual. She daren't leave her boyfriend's side for two whole weeks. It's irritating. In 2007, those two weeks we spent in Orlando were probably the best fourteen days of my tiny existance. To be handed the chance to go back and be as happy as I was then, is fabulous. I wish she'd stop being such a selfish idiot. Mum won't go without her, so if she doesn't go, none of us do.
I need to get drunk. On Thursday night, I'm running home from my three hour lecture on Greek mythology and throwing on whatever outfit I see first and heading to the Empire Bar with my friends. I've not been really drunk for a long, long time, so I plan to drink myself into oblivion.
I need this. I need to forget. I need to feel numb for a while.
It's selfish, but I don't care anymore.
Depressed best friend. Other friends who don't know what they want. Course friends who say one thing and do another. People in general. Trains being delayed. Cold weather. So much fog, you can barely see. Dull lectures. Never feeling quite good enough. Writer's block. Nothing sounding how I wanted it to. Feeling inadequate. Left in the lurch. Vile little sister. Vile little sister's boyfriend. Suffocating. Same old routine.
One of my more distant friends from school got the job she's always wanted. She got an interview for RyanAir and they gave her the job. In January, she's going to travel all around Europe. Hearing about things like that give me real hope. I only read Kerrang for the gig reviews. That's what I want to do. I don't think I'll ever get a book published.
Writing doesn't consume me, it isn't my entire life. I don't live and breathe it. I rarely do my homework. I write whatever's in my head at that time, type it up, tweak it slightly and hand it round my focus group. Sometimes, it's liked by all four of them, sometimes, it's ripped to pieces. I don't take it too seriously. It's the only thing I've ever consistently done and consistently been slightly good at. I over hear people in class talking about entering competitions and sending pieces off to be published. Then, I hear the majority talking about the next anime convention, and I don't feel like I'm fucking up entirely. I'm part of a majority that hasn't let a university course swallow them up. I have to think about other things.
Although it's terrifying to think that come graduation in 2012, all of this will have been for nothing.
We're going to Florida. Orlando again. We hope. Mum says it'll be our last holiday. Lanzarote was supposed to be, but really, it was a nightmare I'd like to never re-live. My sister is throwing a spanner in the perfect works, as usual. She daren't leave her boyfriend's side for two whole weeks. It's irritating. In 2007, those two weeks we spent in Orlando were probably the best fourteen days of my tiny existance. To be handed the chance to go back and be as happy as I was then, is fabulous. I wish she'd stop being such a selfish idiot. Mum won't go without her, so if she doesn't go, none of us do.
I need to get drunk. On Thursday night, I'm running home from my three hour lecture on Greek mythology and throwing on whatever outfit I see first and heading to the Empire Bar with my friends. I've not been really drunk for a long, long time, so I plan to drink myself into oblivion.
I need this. I need to forget. I need to feel numb for a while.
It's selfish, but I don't care anymore.
Saturday 6 November 2010
It seems I've been buried alive.
I hate that post-fabulous-gig-depression. I loathe it with a burning passion. So, we saw Avenged Sevenfold on Wednesday. And I've got to say (for the millionth time) one of, if not the, best band I've ever seen live. I loved every second. Even when the dickwad behind me kept leaning on me and sticking his dick in my arse. Okay, so maybe I didn't love that bit, since he was drooling and looked like he'd been taking something, but once the cute emo guy in the purple hoodie pushed him away from us, I loved it again. It also got me thinking a little.
So, M Shadows had a tribute to Jimmy. He explained to those that didn't know (I highly doubt there was anyone there that didn't know) that Jimmy had died and that he was in the room right that second and that they were going to continue his legacy by carrying on making music. He thanked everyone for making it all possible and Mike Portnoy and then they played So Far Away. At this point I'm in a state of awe and trying to stay upright. It's only been in the few days after that I've had chance to think about it.
If you know anything about me, you'll know live music is my form of personal therapy. A disgusting amount of my money goes into buying tickets, alcohol whilst I'm there, tshirts and then the cd's. I stick all my ticket stubs to my wall to remind me of the amazing nights I've had. Of course, they've not all been amazing, some were disappointing, but the majority were fantastic. Wednesday night was one of those that stayed with me on Thursday. I went into an agonising lecture with a dreamy look on my face and everything Simon was saying about Greek mythology went in one ear and right out the other. Then Friday, I got the depression.
The words from the tribute have been spinning around in my head. Now, maybe this is me being a drama queen, but they really hit home. My best friend hasn't been that for a while now. I've lost her. Not in the same way they lost Jimmy, but she's gone.
Myself and Liz had a huge chat last Saturday night. We'd had too many cocktails, but we always have a big serious chat in the takeaway after a night out. So, there we were, dressed like a zombie and a fairy, sitting in Chubby's discussing Rachel over a cheeseburger and chips. We've come to the conclusion that my best friend isn't the same person anymore. She's drawn into herself, put up walls ten feet high that none of us can scale. She won't tell us what's wrong, so we can't help her. Even if we try to coax it out of her, we don't get the answer we're looking for. It's painful to think about, sometimes. I make it clear to her that we're here for her, no matter what. We'll try to understand. She just doesn't want it. Beau is in her class at university and has told me she's the same there. Last Saturday, whilst we were partying it up in Embrace, Rachel stayed at home and had a 'party' with her parents and her sister. It speaks volumes to me that she'd rather stay at home than come out with the friends she doesn't see that often as it is.
It was the biggest kick in the teeth when Beau told me she doesn't consider any of us her best friends. I was annoyed at first. So, the past eight years I felt like maybe I wasted my time. I stuck with her through so much rubbish, and she did the same for me. I don't know what's wrong. Liz thinks maybe she's depressed. I can't understand what she has to be depressed about. But maybe that's all it is, I don't understand and she doesn't think I'll understand, ever.
I've lost her, and it fucking hurts.
So, M Shadows had a tribute to Jimmy. He explained to those that didn't know (I highly doubt there was anyone there that didn't know) that Jimmy had died and that he was in the room right that second and that they were going to continue his legacy by carrying on making music. He thanked everyone for making it all possible and Mike Portnoy and then they played So Far Away. At this point I'm in a state of awe and trying to stay upright. It's only been in the few days after that I've had chance to think about it.
If you know anything about me, you'll know live music is my form of personal therapy. A disgusting amount of my money goes into buying tickets, alcohol whilst I'm there, tshirts and then the cd's. I stick all my ticket stubs to my wall to remind me of the amazing nights I've had. Of course, they've not all been amazing, some were disappointing, but the majority were fantastic. Wednesday night was one of those that stayed with me on Thursday. I went into an agonising lecture with a dreamy look on my face and everything Simon was saying about Greek mythology went in one ear and right out the other. Then Friday, I got the depression.
The words from the tribute have been spinning around in my head. Now, maybe this is me being a drama queen, but they really hit home. My best friend hasn't been that for a while now. I've lost her. Not in the same way they lost Jimmy, but she's gone.
Myself and Liz had a huge chat last Saturday night. We'd had too many cocktails, but we always have a big serious chat in the takeaway after a night out. So, there we were, dressed like a zombie and a fairy, sitting in Chubby's discussing Rachel over a cheeseburger and chips. We've come to the conclusion that my best friend isn't the same person anymore. She's drawn into herself, put up walls ten feet high that none of us can scale. She won't tell us what's wrong, so we can't help her. Even if we try to coax it out of her, we don't get the answer we're looking for. It's painful to think about, sometimes. I make it clear to her that we're here for her, no matter what. We'll try to understand. She just doesn't want it. Beau is in her class at university and has told me she's the same there. Last Saturday, whilst we were partying it up in Embrace, Rachel stayed at home and had a 'party' with her parents and her sister. It speaks volumes to me that she'd rather stay at home than come out with the friends she doesn't see that often as it is.
It was the biggest kick in the teeth when Beau told me she doesn't consider any of us her best friends. I was annoyed at first. So, the past eight years I felt like maybe I wasted my time. I stuck with her through so much rubbish, and she did the same for me. I don't know what's wrong. Liz thinks maybe she's depressed. I can't understand what she has to be depressed about. But maybe that's all it is, I don't understand and she doesn't think I'll understand, ever.
I've lost her, and it fucking hurts.
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