continued.

i have watched amélie, like, eight times since i arrived here.
i need to sort that.

my very sad life no.6839803

my dad is 59 today. my grandad is 82 tomorrow. reid is 16 on friday.

all this getting up early and going to the beach has destroyed my sleeping pattern.

i watched this fucking weird film yesterday about this irritating victorian actress who kept self harming because she couldn't act. but she couldn't content herself with slitting her wrists...ohhh no. she had to punch herself in the eyes, and then eat glass. nice. why do french people watch such weird films?? then there was this creepy movie about mental patients and then there was this insane modern-dance musical film thing about this catholic institute.

i should stop watching apalling late night tv.

you start all over a...gain

i had made a startling social discovery. scottish people don't say "whereabouts is that?", they say "where's that abouts?". wow. or at least my uncle does. talking of my uncle, he gave me a new address book. so i spent the whole morning writing the addresses from my old one into my new one. productive. actually, i lie, it wasn't the morning. as, once again, i didn't awake until nearly 4. i kid you not. it was more like 2 hours in the afternoon.

anyyyyyway.

nothing happened today. it kind of felt like by the time i had got up it was time to go back to bed again. i have finished my world lit essay. go me! it's about 200 words too short, but i'll think of something when the time comes. i.e. the day before it's due in.

and here's another one of my deeply annoying lists: the most distracting yet satisfying things to do instead of doing work:

• writing letters to people who live a long, long way away
• reading french newspapers
• eating grilled aubergine
• churning out bullshit accross the world wide web
• shouting at parents
• insulting the cat
• listening to placebo very very loud so the schizophrenic neighbours kill their dogs in a frenzy

the above is also a summary of everything i've done over the last few days. neat.

so tim's in america, reid's eating dinner and everyone else has better things to do than talk to me. i congratulate those who aren't wasting precious hours on msn having conversations about ricecakes and roundabouts. well done. bravo. i only wish i know how you did it.

going off on expensive holidays isn't an appropriate answer. i have neither the money nor the liberty. so here's to you, timmy robinson. jesus loves you more than you could know. wowowo. to quote a famous simon and garfunkel song that no one who reads this will ever have heard of...

x

too much information

i eat sweetcorn out of the tin with a spoon.
i slouch.
i leave my music playing when i leave the room.
i am always late for everything except for every meal.
i lie to my parents.
i drag my feet.
i steal my dad's biros.
i throw my clothes on the floor.
i eat far too much peanut butter.
i chew my glasses.
i get people to illegally copy CDs for me.
i have missed lots of SSAW meetings because i am away.
i wear tights with ladders in them.
i smile at people i don't know.
i forget to brush my hair.
i wear odd socks.
i listen to country music sometimes.
i secretly lust over people i'll never have.
i spend too much time sticking things on my wall. my fingers hurt from pushing the drawçing pins in.
i fail at crosswords. and then i do them again thinking i'll get better.
i take lots and lots of free pens.
sometimes i can't think of anything to say to my closest friends.
i eat raw tomatoes and the juice dribbles down my chin.
i play rock music on my cello when no one's listening.
i eat my apple cores.
i don't go to bed until 3am in the holidays.
i listen to the same song over and over again sometimes. it drives me crazy.
i copied this idea off reid's blog. he probably hates me now.
i haven't confessed anything very dramatic though.
i don't have the guts for that.
i burn candles and drip wax onto my table. then i scratch it off when it dries.
i lose the lids to my pens. or i chew them up. or both.
i buy child travelcards.
i don't wear a cycle helmet.
i have freckles on my knees.
i spend too much time writing in my blog.

goodnight.
x

what's done is done, and in the future there will be robots

i am starting to love it here.
in an eerie, alone, relaxed, strained, crushing, beautiful kind of way. i love my attic room with the beams and slanted ceiling and i love sleeping and writing letters and working at night time without being under pressure. i love eating fruit for breakfast, lunch and tea and watching monsieur catalas weeding his vegetable garden. i love the silence of the lake, queer emptiness, peaceful melancholy.
i haven't spoken to anyone except my parents for days. i miss company. i miss london.
i could get used to this, though. a quiet life. i don't have to do anything. i just let hours slip by unnoticed... it all blurs into one. i went into town this morning. and bought some blue tack and post-it notes. then i came home and ate pasta and stuck things all over my wardrobe door. strangely soothing.

it's been weird this summer though. like a transition. i think all my feelings have been transformed. i feel different. not older, or wiser. and i haven't become religious. or right wing. i just feel... happy.
actually, catch me again in a few hours after i've had a bitter argument with my mother or something and i'll probably be my usual depressing, distressed, angsty self.

it's funny though. you realise who you are really close to when you are away from everything. you can just reflect in a really neutral, unbiased way.

jesus this is garbage. no. i'm stopping. sorry.

hi! it's me! how are you?!

the thing about existentialism, though, is that you feel you have a huge weight of responsability on your shoulders. you can't just drift, you have to struggle, to fight, to perservere. it seems unecessary sometimes. why bother seeking something deeper when you can just drift and float and let life do the talking?

it's interesting. and confusing. camus' main idea is about the absurdity of the world, and how we, as humans, must try and make sense of it. 'la contingence' en français. according to sartre the fact that we live life without even a god-given purpose is almost unbearable for us. we always look for order, purpose, reason, even in our lifestyle and routine.

existentialists believe that disguising this aburdity is a restriction of your personal liberty. 'the human condition is fundamentally miserable by nature' as pascal said. sartre uses the term 'l'angoisse' to mean the anguish, agony, distress: the human suffering we must endure to reach conscientious freedom....

depressing, isn't it?
*moving swiftly away from pondering philosophical thoughts...*

might go and eat some avocado now. and cheese. and watermelon. and peaches. lots of them.

sorry this is another irritating stream of consciousness.
i love you. deeply. and i hate you. i'm sorry.
x

well i can ease your pain.... and get you on your feet again +_+

everyone check out my fantastic new counter!! actually, don't bother, it's kinda rubbish. took me ages to figure out and currently only says 001. impressive! i also seem to have destroyed the alignment of one of the boxes, while messing around in html. bugger.

"life is better than death, i believe, if only because it is less boring and because it has fresh peaches in it"

i just ate seven peaches in a row. oooooh. i feel a bit sick.
only just got the keyboard back, my mother decided to "confiscate" it for a few days.

haven't really been doing much, besides eating peaches and watching french daytime tv. i watched amélie yesterday. **sans toi, les émotions d'aujourd'hui ne seraient que la peau morte des émotions d'autrefois.**

it's so crushingly quiet here. i feel very very lonely. there's this constant tension between me and my mother. i miss london. i miss chaos and disorder. it's eerie and monotonous and empty. there's no one around to shape my time, so my days have lapsed into a cycle of eating, sleeping and reading... but mostly sleeping. today i woke up at 2pm. yesterday i slept until 3. "three o'clock is always too late or too early for anything you want to do", as sartre would say. maybe i should become a hardcore existentialist and set off on a crazy life journey, making up my own morals as i go along....

...or maybe i'll just eat some more peaches.

last words are for fools who haven't said enough.
x