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.
