D'you want to go to the seaside?

I'm not trying to say that everyone wants to go...
I fell in love at the seaside.
She handled her charm with time and slight of hand.

Haven't been feeling very expressive lately, I'm all garbled and inarticulate and skatty. This extends beyond my blog. I keep saying the wrong things to the wrong people and fretting about little things, like I'm a nervous wreck.

People keep trying to reassure me, it never works, but it means alot. I feel like I'm still going through obscure, fanciful phases, and fluttering from one thing to the other, and then collapsing into a disappointed heap and breaking down. I should pull myself together. In June I'll have nothing left, not even the remnants of stability that I find in school and train journeys and early mornings. Freedom, that's what it's called. I don't feel remotely liberated by the thought of it, though. The prospect of having nowhere to go and nothing to do no longer seems like some blissful, decadent abyss, just depressing and disparaging. Maybe even a little pointless. And almost certainly completely terrifying.

Becky looked beautiful yesterday. Her gloves were scarlet and her dress was amazing. And Michael drove me all the way home and I was racked with guilt all day for that. It was a strange evening to be honest, I trawled the streets of Witham in silver sandals which left grooves in my freezing feet, and then drank a little and danced a lot. Or maybe vice versa. 'The world around us makes me feel so small...' It's still in my head, even today. For some reason.

Either way, it was probably the last time I go out in a while. Exams, and all that stuff. Was invited to Maria's birthday party tonight, but realistically there was no way I was going. I don't have a cocktail dress, and I'm shattered.

But there were some good times, among the shambolic, hazy fragments of my weekend. Singing Oasis at the top of our voices all the way home. Starbucks on a strange, sleepy Friday. Eating boiled eggs, and sleeping. Oh, and Philip Bloomfield dancing wildly to Cotton Eye Joe... that was a sight to see.
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