scratch that.

next week in half term, maybe tuesday or wednesday, i’m going to go up to london &escape. not spend any money except for train fare &hot chocolate. go to the tate britain, maybe the imperial war museum. the v&a, the national portrait gallery. be who i want to be. turn off my phone. read on the train &the tube. be wanted. go to soho, find a café. go to selfridges &try on ridiculous &ridiculously priced dresses. buy another copy of the catcher in the rye, or force him to? unlikely.

london. i cannot wait. it’ll get me through this week. nando’s today, gym tomorrow. the maccabees, bombay bicycle club, the drums &the big pink with a in norwich on wednesday. home that night. birthday &lostprophets with r on thursday, stay over, college friday, home at 1325 with r &am &m. saturday fancy dress with p? maybe.

the utter highlight of my day was finding a lobster fancy dress suit to hire. you gotta love life sometimes.

this is amusing at least. i need to sleep. gosh.

on saturday i got up at 0815 to go shopping for my birthday with my grandma. we went to costa in waterstones, &then we went to h&m, &i got clothes. we had lunch at lucca, &i didn’t say i had been the night before. i read my book of patricia highsmith short stories, the black house. i came home around three &i slept until seven, when i left to go babysitting. i babysat e, &we played cluedo mysteries, which is not as good as normal cluedo, &watched my neighbour totoro, which i loved. she went to bed &i read a bit of the goblet of fire to her. i went downstairs &washed up &watched kill bill vol. two &bits of the hills have eyes remake, which is awful &not even particularly scary. i texted j &replied to k, &then i texted him, which was stupid. i couldn’t not. i stole some beer &then i came home, twenty squid richer. £158.50 now, for my latitude ticket. reading next.

today i woke up properly about two o’clock. i sat in bed &i read coronado, by dennis lehane &fell in love with until gwen. i waited til everyone left to see sherlock holmes- which i declined to go to- &then got up. i tidied a bit, then i fed the dog, then i made myself write my essay. i finished it at around 1930, &had a shower just as they came back. i talked to him a little, &sorted out all my notes a little. i feel like i’m boring him &i hate it so much. his dog ate the cover of my copy of the catcher in the rye. i don’t really care about the cover, just that he doesn’t care either. i think i can stop caring. i just won’t care about anything else either. like she said, i need to shut myself off, &stop caring altogether. i need to be completely numb &blank. fuck university, fuck the future. would going just to spite him work at all?

i had a horrible thought: what if she doesn’t miss me? what if she doesn’t really mind not seeing me everyday, every lesson? i need to stop forcing myself on people.

this is the second time we’ve lost the war.

he said, you know, you should really talk to people sometimes. not necessarily me, although that would be nice. true. but who eh? i don’t feel i can trust anyone, &’sides, i don’t want people to know. because then you get sympathy &worse, expectations &all that crap. i just want to curl up &sleep but i should do this essay. although, is it really going to prey on my mind that much? it’s not exactly going to ruin the weekend. i can easily leave it til sunday. hmm. i think i might. i just cannot think. i’ve been talking to him so much, &that support just fell away, didn’t let me catch my breath. it’s so much easier to be alone, i haven’t really been trying to make more friends. but tonight made me realise i really need a group, &they’re all already formed. so that’s a bit fucking inconvenient isn’t it? i want people who’ll always be in the same spot at lunch, who i can meet without pretense. i can never just pick one person, my game plan never fully developed, &that’s where i fall down. 

 so, list time. tomorrow:      

1.  walk the dog.
2. hoover &tidy.
3. hang up all the clothes.
4. throw out stuff, please.
5. have my mental breakdown quietly, in private.
6. take off nail varnish.
7. have a long shower.
8. allocate money for perfume, cigarettes?
9. fix my earring.
10. paint nails red again.
11. do art history coursework, english essay, sort out notes, revise class civ.
12. talk to him properly or not at all.
13. start my stolen sketchbook.
14. get a fucking grip.

oh you’re the prettiest, smartest captain of the team, i love you more than being seventeen.

so we went to the cinema yesterday &it was good, if a little awkward. i wish i’d thought of more things to say. we saw lt &e going in &they both texted me within minutes. then b was enquiring after me  and now i have jokes from d, k &k. they make me smile though, they make me laugh. oh but he smelt so damn good; i really am daydreaming. &hopefully we’ll go again. i’d really love to have lunch out on my birthday, but there is zero chance of my asking him. &lt’s busy &a &lp are too far away &i can’t deal with anyone else. i wish b wasn’t away. i wish i’d seen i’s face though, with the cinema nonsense,  hilarious.

tomorrow art history’s cancelled &i’m skipping class civ, so i’ll give in my essay &be home at elevenish. beautiful. i’m going to hoover &tidy, maybe put up postcards, listen to the strokes &kings of leon, maybe watch films: once, the lives of others. then i’m going to speak properly to him, order a ucas card, find out my buzzword? i don’t mind not going to r’s really, it’s probably a bad idea. saturday day i’m going birthday shopping &in the evening i’m babysitting, which’ll be good. i really do need a job though. i  need a life.

oh god, the courtauld. the courtauld institute of art. fifty places for almost 400 applicants. i have no chance. look where ambition’s got me.

why now? why am i falling for him now? &am i even? how the fuck am i supposed to know what this is? sometimes i hate myself so much it scares me. &it’s not even original. i don’t have an original bone in my body. i want so desperately to be unique but i never will be. i seem to think things like writing this &sitting alone in coffee shops will make me enigmatic, desirable. i hate how people feel pity for you when you’re on your own. as if just because you choose not to make plans, to have every second of every day taken up by inane small talk, you’re the deserver of sympathy, small comforting smiles. i like being on my own. there are only a few people i honestly love spending time with: a, lp, j, b. i can’t deal with the rest. the mindless chatter. it’s so much effort. screw it. i want to be alone- not alone, but individual. with only my thoughts &the strokes. i love walking fast through town- permanently late- with music drowning out everything. colours &gestures catching my eye. but why do my thoughts all have to be about him? god, i sound ridiculous. pathetic. but i can’t stop thinking about him. does he really not feel the same? i wouldn’t blame him.

why do i accept the things you say? you know what you change, but not in what way

how long must i wait?

i didn’t think it through properly. a child. i don’t know how she coped. she’s strong but she’s so fragile. i am so glad she felt she could tell me. that meant a lot.

london london london. living there would be so incredible. even though i’m clearly romanticising it can stand up to my dreams. sometimes i think that i’m bigger than the sound. &that means university, realistically. ugh, realism. but i think i can do it, he said i need more self belief &i suppose it’s true. i’m finding more &more that i can be honest with him, more than other people you’d think would be closer. &the next few years will always be indebted to him. art history almost seems a better prospect that modern history at the moment, &anything in london’s got to be easier than durham. that idea was slightly ridiculous. london i can do. &god, imagine it. dropping in to the v&a, tate britain, the imperial war museum. it’s a dream. that’s why i’m scared it won’t happen. i don’t want to stake anything to it. i’ve got to sort myself out &work. at the moment i just want to talk to him.

cinema on wednesday: (he just signed on &my heart skipped a beat. skipped a fucking beat. how ludicrous) an education &edge of darkness. orange wednesdays works it out at £onefifty a film, very nice. if anyone else’s is going i don’t really mind, just him might be too much.

i feel numb most of the time, the more i get the higher i’ll climb.

so tell me if it’s love, ’cause baby i’m a tin man, since you took my heart, i’ve got a missing part, i’ve got a missing part.

i got a head that tells me stupid things to do. i cannot eat, i cannot sleep, i got a hole inside of me.

this is ridiculous. it’s ridiculous. i can’t do this. he’s making it too hard, i want him so much. can’t he just stop fucking caring altogether, or care more. this inbetweenness is killing me. cannot do this. for fuck’s sake. i just talked to him for four hours. does it mean nothing? i want him. it’s ridiculous. the cinema was ridiculous. i’m ridiculous. god. prospectuses. don’t give me fucking prospectuses &nothing else. everyone’s got to have a dream. we’re all such fucking hypocrites.

i should go to sleep. he said i should go to sleep. but that was almost an hour ago. i’m now the proud owner of an odeon première club card. fantastic. i’m seeing marina &the diamonds tomorrow with a girl i love. i can get through english with people i like, art history with leaflets &class civ with minute counting. then i’m free, for another weekend. they go so quickly, i promise myself i’ll sort everything out, be calm &in control. never do. never ever do.

&my dream? venice, in the winter, snow in piazza san marco. books &independent cinemas &films &art museums &beauty. but honestly, i’d take anywhere with you. anywhere.

that taste, all i ever needed, all i ever wanted, too drunk to remember.