swoon

DRINKING

YAY DRINKING WITH MY GIRLIES

2 nights in a row. should be bad. But it's soooo much fun now that's I've bade farewell to my degree but don't have work tomorrow.

Updates later xxx

..

"My great hope is that......women would remember that one of the gifts that they have is that they remained so very close to the personal life, and that the qualities that were discovered in the personal life, the value of human life, the value of tenderness, the attentiveness to others' moods, the need for compassion and pity and understanding, the things that women practice every day in their daily lives, in their small kingdoms, are enormously important."

--Anais Nin

.

Sunday

Well, it's official. I need a life, or something which resembles one. It is a BEAUTIFUL Sunday and I am:

a) not hungover
b) stuck at work trying to finish my monthly reports and bonus application
c) wondering when I became so boring

I actually considered last night giving up drinking because I still had a bit of fun. And it was free. And now today is productive. But I doubt it.


It'd be really cool if I could start feeling something other than apathy for everything. Except how I look. Then it's horror at how I've let myself go. I miss having self-control.

I also want to go back to enjoying more than like 7 people in the universe. That'd be cool. It's pretty sad, coz most of them are workmates.

Greetings

Hello 6th follower. This makes me happy.

I got told I wasn't needed at work tonight. Which is awesome. Like, way awesome. But what do people do when they don't work nights?

I know what I'm going to do.


IMA GET HIGH.


Oooooh shit son.

HOLYFUCK

Holy fuck Caragh commented on here. holy fuck. It's like a fucking celebrity found my blog. This is going to be way lame if she sees this and realises that she made my day. FUCK I'M A LOSER

Just sayin'...

Self destruction

Sometimes, when I feel self destructive, I look at this and it gives me a little hope that one day soon I won't feel so insane all the time. Yes, it's what I quoted to swoonboy. Yes, it's another postsecret post card. No, I do not need help.

I just need time to lose my mind and then find it again.

Can you please

get out of my head? It's just annoying now.

KTHXBAI

So long, dear friend

My darling,

We have spent an amazing 3 years closely entwined. You have been there for the dizzying highs and lowest of lows. You helped me realise my anxiety and taught me time management. Because of you, I have found sexual partners, best friends, and my calling in life. I have invested a lot of time and money into you, but don't worry, I ain't mad at chu. So many life lessons learnt, but I feel that it is time to part ways. I will always remember you for making me stay up way past my bed time, developing my addictions, and being the lovable bane of my existence.

But now it's over. I shall listen to sad old love songs and reminisce.

Goodbye, undergraduate degree. Goodbye.

SUCKA.

Rationale

Given the chance to sleep with swoonboy, I didn't. Because of the setting, his mental health, and mine.

And now I'm fucking kicking myself.

Ok, ok, in the long run it was a smart decision, and he hasn't been ruled out of the future fuck pool, but DAMMIT.

And he's such a good kisser.

IN other news:

I have an exam tomorrow for which I've done fuck all study. Eep.

Waking up with an anxiety attack is not the best way to wake after maybe 2 hours of sleep. Especially when it's caused by a dream about fighting a zombie ogre thing.

I almost shat my pants. I need to figure out why I've been having such scary dreams. The night before, I dreamt that I just didn't go to my exam and failed, and woke up in pretty much the same state.



Also, major huge swoon. More on that later.

I should be studying again

But instead, I found this. Rape culture can often be a difficult, abstract concept to explain to people. This explanation is probably the most comprehensive, easy to understand explanation I've found: http://shakespearessister.blogspot.com/2009/10/rape-culture-101.html

"Rape culture is rape being used as a weapon, a tool of war and genocide and oppression. Rape culture is rape being used as a corrective to "cure" queer women. Rape culture is a militarized culture and "the natural product of all wars, everywhere, at all times, in all forms." "

"Rape culture is boys under 10 years old knowing how to rape."

"Rape culture is the narrative that sex workers can't be raped. Rape culture is the assertion that wives can't be raped. Rape culture is the contention that only nice girls can be raped."

And she goes on and on with examples like this.


Wow.

OHHAI CARAGH KEEPIN' IT REALZ

"I stayed up all night last night studying for a huge test and only slept from 6 until 7 AM.
When I walked in the guy I once described as “un.bel.ieve.ab.ly attractive” said good morning and asked how I was. I replied in a friendly way, but silently cursed the fact that I had been running late, and in my haste forgot to grab my make-up, didn’t do anything more than clip my (soaking wet) bangs over to the side, and… well, yes, I will admit it — forgot to put on deodorant. I was in no condition to be seen by anyone, much less some dude who is still attractive despite the fact he’s neither Jewish nor rich.
During the first break he turned around and started to quiz me on the upcoming test. My armpits immediately began to sweat. Because his attractiveness was too overwhelming. And also I wasn’t wearing deodorant.
Suddenly, I realized he had asked me a question. I had been too busy thinking how ridiculous it was that my under arms were actually perspiring with nerves. I didn’t know that really happened.
“Um, repeat that?”
And as he repeated the question, I stared at his face. His face that was 12 inches from mine. That totally babe-like face.
Silence.
I had missed the question again. I pretended to think hard. “One more time?”
Why is he so attractive? Why is his face so attr — GODDAMMIT. I stared at him, horrified by myself. “GOLGI APPARATUS.” It was, miraculously, correct.
More talking and he reveals that he once took a child growth and development class (HE’S SENSITIVE) and he’s a nursing student (SENSITIVE CARETAKER) and watched Jon & Kate Plus 8 before Jon was a douchebag (SENSITIVE CARETAKER WHO KNOWS WHO AADEN GOSSELIN IS) and the more stories he’s telling the more I’m totally mystified that this type of guy actually exists in this godforsaken world and —
GAY. GAY. GAY. COCK IN MOUTH. He’s probably gay. That’s the only explanation I can think of. I don’t think he’s ACTUALLY gay, but he might as well be to me.
“Good as gay”: the new term for someone way out of your league."


---ILOVETHISBLOGSOMUCHITMAYASWELLBEMEFUCK

As I read this entry from http://www.whydoihaveablog.tumblr.com/ (formerly http://www.caragh.tumblr.com/) I almost cried at how unfair it is that me and this girl aren't the same person. Coz I hard wanna be her friend. Is it sad that I've twittered her twice and have received no reply? Probably. But she once twittered Snoop and he tweeted her back. C'mon Caragh, I'm cooler than Snoop. More real.


And fuck, I sound like a crazy obsessed fan.

Ok I lied

ZOMGPINKBLOG

I think I just DIED

It's so UGLY

But so FABULOUS


OMGOMGOMGOMGOMG



Ok, spazz finished.

Last one for today

YAY. Have a beautiful day xxx

Sigh.

I sent this to swoonboy with a message which said "People are only crazy from the outside, but from the inside, it's really quite a beautiful thing".

I know he's probably bad for me, and I know I'm probably being way naive here, but I'm entering into whatever this may turn out to be with trepidation. Because it could be fun.

OHHAI POETRY WRITTEN BY MY DAD

Allow me the pleasure of speaking
A symphony of words
To smile and to kiss you

Allow me the pleasure of hearing
A symphony of sound
To listen and to understand you

Allow me the pleasure of vision
A symphony of light
To see and to imagine you

Allow me the pleasure of touch
A symphony of sensation
To caress and to hold you

Allow me the pleasure of the senses
An orchestra of expression
To love you forever.

I'm on blogging fire

"Do you remember
the first act? -

how the floor
hooked this world together

and after -
you had eyes, that said:

'yes. The empty home I left
won't see me again'

.

always, - we went
together."


My ex boyf wrote this about me. He studied poetry and wrote a few poems about me. It was kinda sweet, though I don't think I fully appreciated it. It was a little gross. I'm not really a poetry kinda gal, I get all awkward. But I really like this one.

Look what I found...

I was cleaning (HA!) and picked up a notebook, and this fell out. I think it's been there, undisturbed for 4 years. Awesome. I'm such a sloth.

"There they were, seemingly lifeless, made only of black and white, but out of them, out of their own being, came love and pity and pain and wonder and all the othr vague abstractions that make out ephemeral lives dangerous, great, and bearable."

--Dylan Thomas, on words.

We had to study him in 7th form and I think his was the first poetry which really spoke to me. Around that time, my stepdad was getting sick and we thought it was Motor-neuron and that he had about 2 years - so when we studied "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night", I was all "D-Thom, you ma boiii and I fells ya, hard."

This is it:

"Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

Especially the last stanza. Wowza.