There Is No Control

...She's Got The Soul Of A Poet


Hmph. I figured I best start using grammar and that, considering my new found fall-back plan (possibly unintentionally courtesy of Lis?).

It's 8:48 and I can still see blue sky, this is so unnerving. Anyway I had a really sweet weekend, all in all. I still hate the bitter taste of 'sunday evening', even though it's in fact monday... For some reason when I spend a weekend mostly with people it seems to make me really resent that sweep of loneliness the next morning, and I go all queezy. Also finally understanding the term 'lovesick' except totally not. Fucking inexplicable ridiculous and impossibly unattainable time-wasters. One of the best things about mostly drunken evenings is people say things to you and they don't think you'll remember, but the night works it's way back to you. It's the same minimal level of sobriety which allows me to recollect that I myself, probably didn't let anything slip which will come back and bite me. I don't like the idea of people talking about...stuff though, this is the problem. I get that it's harmless and probably very brief and definitely non-scandalous... plus I do it too, but I'll aim to less because it's weirdly/very mildly frustrating when you do hear about it. Not that I understand, it's the least interesting thing in the world ever =/ even though it explains things. In any case, this made me realise that 1) people may think they know things they don't, 2) maybe I lead people to believe these things on purpose, which just makes me fucking awful.

Earlier on in the week, which had it's clearly defined highs and lows, a certain Knight in shining armor (yes, it was a pun) basically made my day. Explaining the reasons behind things, in this instance panic attacks, and showing me how fine the line between mental/physical actually is. It's also ridiculous how in a situation like that someone can so effortlessly understand/seem to care, like really. She teaches english, I suppose she's an analysist. Anyway I'm hoping now that as a result of decisions I've made consequently, there's no irreversable damage. It's not really fair for there to be. There probably will be.

Oh for the love of God! Maybe I'll just paraphrase this; I had a shitty week in places, clouded with a touch of paranoia (or not, what's the word for paranoia when it may be justified?) and uncomfortable distance, it picked up, I had a pretty wonderful weekend and now I'm probably moaning for the sake of it. Sorry.

Edit; I also rediscovered my belief in God, I have no idea why, but it didn't seem worth writing about because now I have a LOT of work/discovery to do. It probably was and now I'm regretting writing about teenage shitty drama instead. Later...