10/01 Direct Link
He’s gone.
Whatever happened between us was a mistake. I kept two separate lives and the inevitable collision of the two caused his hidden truth to explode. He can’t share. He can’t handle seeing what I am really like outside of the bubble of friendship we created – I exist without him and I know happiness in his absence.

More pressing issues must be dealt with now. The possibility of reconciliation with a past love hangs over my head. I am confused and terrified. Four months breeds a lot of change. I am still left wondering if love is enough.

10/02 Direct Link
My parents are an inspiration.
Today their journey to a new life begins.
No more desk job, no more capitalist, corporate puppetry.
They have followed their dream,
it has led them to the Highlands.

We spend our lives chained to a desk,
monitored on time-keeping,
glued to our phone,
obsessed with our email.
Success is our bank balance
and the goods our peers can see.

I give up
in fact I have already given up.
My new life awaits
and I only have to spend another
21 days
giving a shit about this company
and the idiots I work with.
10/03 Direct Link
We are different now, we are the way we should have been before; grounded in reality and not the ideas we had about each other.


I should be excited but a change inside brings a change in direction. Plans no longer include each other, our independence leaves no room for compromise. Our future’s are oceans apart and though we talk excitedly about our intentions the truth of our hearts is revealed in our eyes.

There’s love but you agree it’s not enough.
I have broken my own heart.
I am overwhelmed by the hopelessness of the situation.
10/04 Direct Link
I know a man who collects secrets. He told me his deepest and darkest in the hope that I would return the favour but my secret is different. It is darker in ways that mean you can never move on from it, it is always there, change is not possible.

Months of saving, a four hour flight and a lifetime of shame is what I paid for this secret. Two nights of drunken, unprotected sex led to trips to the clinic at home, confessions to mother and awkward honesty that risks every sexual relationship then, now and in the future.
10/05 Direct Link
And he wrote:

“The truth is that I don't want to be friends with you, I never did. I want more. I love you. I hung on to every kind word to feed it, to justify myself. I believed deep down that you would fall for me, eventually. For me this is real, the most real love I have ever had, requited or not. You were it, I wanted to share my life with you, I even went to such girlie lengths as planning the wedding”

Love makes weak fools of us all. And you are a weak, weak fool.
10/06 Direct Link
Am I doing the right thing? Is this what I want? He called last night and asked if I wanted to spend some time with him today. I agreed without hesitation. It is easy, almost too easy. I need challenge but I am only human, I crave love and company. Am I just trying to fill in the blanks until something else comes along; something harder, something seemingly out of reach? I risk breaking the same heart twice. These destructive tendencies will undoubtedly be the end of me or will at least see the end of me lived out alone.
10/07 Direct Link
Cider and conversation to a soundtrack of Bananarama and Head Automatica. I wear my purple pixie boots, my feet are hot and my socks have strange T-shaped sweat marks.

I laugh so hard. I can hardly breathe.

Pub, followed by pub. Only when alcohol has sufficiently tainted our bloodstream do we become affectionate. Pub followed by food. I cause trouble and smile sweetly as he rectifies my wrong doings. The morning after and his lap is my pillow, he strokes my hair, stares into my hung-over, blood-shot eyes and tells me I am the most beautiful girl in the world.
10/08 Direct Link
Oh, ‘Mr. Heartbroken’. ‘Mr. Upper-Middle Class Mummy and Daddy Will Fix It All For Me’. Places do not breed failure. Failures breed failure. You failed to plan, failed to understand the visa process prior to your arrival, failed to get a job, failed to keep any friends and you failed yourself. You succeeded in pushing people away, causing problems for yourself and those around you. You succeeded in being the most sickly, whiny, cretinous being I have ever had the displeasure of spending my valuable time with.

And I faked it. Every time.

I hope you choke on your baguette.
10/09 Direct Link
Pay day yesterday. These last five weeks, due to circumstances I could have controlled, I have been living on little to no money, borrowing here and there, cashing up my pennies at the bank, calling on those who owed me. Now I have wine and fresh fish and fruit and vegetables. A full belly and a hangover.

Whilst having more money makes life easier it doesn’t make things any more interesting, in fact it makes it less so. Less concern, less focus. Everybody dreams of winning the lottery and living a luxurious life but without our worries what are we?
10/10 Direct Link
Food. My best friend. My worst enemy. My confidence is slipping. I look in the mirror, try different angles, pull different poses but I just cannot be happy. Body dysmorphia, what you see isn’t what you have. The jeans still fit. I don’t want to be touched, looked at, complimented, loved. My skin is spotty. Praise the fringe. I have been on my period for 11 days. I feel bloated. I need to be shook up and slapped back into reality. Passionately, aggressively dragged from this self-induced misery. I need a friend, a bottle of wine and a good orgasm.
10/11 Direct Link
A bizarre chain of events has led me here. I had been told my contract wouldn’t be renewed, my job was being offshored. The possibilities this offered made me re-evaluate my life and where I wanted to be. I realised it wasn’t behind a desk. I ended a two year relationship. Above all I desired freedom, no ties. A contract extension was offered but I said no. I plan to do NaNoWriMo, I want to make money from selling the things I make. I want to leave this godforsaken tiny island.

And above all I dreamt of being with you.
10/12 Direct Link
It’s Flapjack Friday, or at least it was Flapjack Friday until everyone else jumped on the bandwagon and decided to make and bake for the aptly renamed Friday Feast. I considered calling in sick as I know that my food limits are non existent. Moderation is not a word that I am familiar with. Financial situation meant I dragged myself into work. Lack of self control meant I ate like a famine victim who has just forged a friendship with Willy Wonka.

Self image. Poor. Whose fault? Mine.

The words of another: Moderation itself can be a kind of extreme
10/13 Direct Link
The first of the three sisters was married today. She looked beautiful, the church was nice, the ceremony was intimate, the hymns had questionable lyrics, the vicar was insane. Never compare a good marital home to an ideal atmosphere in which to train dogs. Copious amounts of wine and sambuca were consumed, enough cigarettes were smoked to last a lifetime, many alcohol induced words were spoken. The sentiment was sweet, the clarity of the message was poor.

The highlight was my date. Platonic only, you understand, but amazing all the same. I am a lucky girl to know his friendship.
10/14 Direct Link
What is it that makes me want to wake up at 8am after a night out in order to consume two cans of fizzy pop and a Quorn mince and onion slice? Did you know they have released Wispa bars again? This is one of the happiest confectionary based moments in my whole life.He met me upon my return and we drank and talked and touched and kissed and accidentally didn’t pay for some food from Genies. It paid for our taxi home, separate beds tonight but a sleep over is planned for Tuesday.

“Don’t trust me,” I told him.
10/15 Direct Link
I am working the later shift on my own all week and I get the feeling that the guys at work see it as something to be agonised over. They hate the thought of working from 6-8pm alone but I love it. I can sit here, like now, and write. I can prepare for NaNoWriMo. I can trade shares in celebrities (I hate celebrity but I love competitive trading). I can call and email my friends and eat peanuts and drink coffee and sneak out for cigarettes whenever I like. Why are some people so afraid of their own company?
10/16 Direct Link
My housemates have been away for nearly a week and the flat is in a mess. I am not tidy. I am very, vary lazy. I have had plans here and there all week - travel drinking, drinking, travel – and haven’t gotten around to doing some of the standard household chores that I am sure are expected of me. I have plans tonight, they arrive home tomorrow and I am worried they will realise that I truly am an animal.

I am also worried for the moment they see how much wine I have consumed. 3.5 bottles, one week. Ooops.
10/17 Direct Link
At the door his words were full of happy lies but his face said it all. We kissed in the bedroom and I attempted small-talk, not my forte. “I need to tell you something.” I immediately drew on a thought I had whilst fixing my hair just minutes before his arrival.

Lounge, he sits, I stand.

“I went to the clinic today…”

Funny, I knew what he was going to say. Funny, I didn’t mind. Funny, it’s not the first time. Funny, I never fucked around like so many but I get a double dose.

No booze for a week?!

10/18 Direct Link
One glass, two glass, three glass, four
Confessions, gambling, strippers, floor.

Some odd promises have been made, all of which I have no intention of keeping. They worry me, not for the content but for the fact that I promised them so easily after a couple of glasses of wine. Orgies, swingers parties, prostitutes. I never ever want to see him naked, let alone be involved in such sordid acts. He is almost like a brother to me. I guess we’re just bored of our lives and sex and the people around us.

I think I showed him my tits.
10/19 Direct Link
Today was test day. I woke up, cleaned up, made sure I was presentable down there and went to the clinic. I forgot how damn uncomfortable it was and no matter how sweet the nurse, there is little dignity to be salvaged whilst you have your legs spread. Seeing her smiling face as you look down just makes it worse. Luckily I’ve seen enough pussy not to be as paranoid as I once was in my teens.

And they took blood, initially it wouldn’t come out but they got it in the end. I’m being tested for everything.

Two weeks…
10/20 Direct Link
Since I turned 25 I have been paranoid about my age. Today is no different. She’s 5 years younger, slimmer, prettier. The only thing that I have over her is that she is a bit of a cunt, I however am a total cunt. And smarter and funnier with it; something that comes with age I guess. I was polite anyway, I would never give anyone like that the satisfaction of feeling my wrath.

Happier times: I had a lovely afternoon tea today with him. I still don’t have a clue what I’m doing. I don’t know if it’s right.
10/21 Direct Link
I missed you today. You said you wrote for me at 80mph. Sometimes I know your extravagance can only be lies but I don’t care. The skipped beats and flutters and general ridiculousness of it makes it all worth it. You are my secret, you are the fuel of my life and the doubts in my heart. My recklessness is kerbed only by lack of funds, money allowing I wouldn’t think twice. You know that, don’t you, though I would never say it aloud? I’m scared of being made a fool. You are the only one who has that power.
10/22 Direct Link
I feel like I could be living in someone’s life, following other people’s dreams, everything excites me but my attention is never kept for long, only long enough for something else to take my fancy, I rarely finish anything, always moving, never static, underachieving because of my fickle nature, never because ability is lacking, projects, thoughts, songs, books, relationships all thrown away because the possibilities of the next are so enticing, I am enchanted by what is out of reach because it holds so much promise, reality can never live up to the extreme happily ever afters of the imagination
10/23 Direct Link
Creative, creative, creative. This is the word that is rolling around in my head. Today I minced around the internet looking at other people’s wonderful creations and was smacked in the face by my own sheer laziness. It was given extra weight by my poor utilisation of time. I took it on the chin, went out in my lunch, bought supplies and now have a partly formed caricature toy of my housemate. It will be completed by Sunday, her birthday. Life doesn’t happen on a screen, it is only there to document it. I have to start living. Really living.
10/24 Direct Link
We’ve fallen back into it, into the same routine. I sleep, he waits, watching, touching, loving. My brain switches off, I am comfortable but not stimulated. I have lent him a book, he has had it for weeks now and I know he hasn’t even attempted to read it. The two of them in the bachelor pad, they watch the TV. Scuzz. They confuse ‘your’ and ‘you’re’ and didn’t know what al dente means. I love him but I know it’s not in the way that I should. It’s passionless. I’m too much of a coward to tell him again.
10/25 Direct Link
He arrived:

“You are the sunshine of my life
That’s why I'll always be around,
You are the apple of my eye,
Forever you’ll stay in my heart.”

He serenaded me with Stevie Wonder and I initially found myself questioning if Stevie Wonder was actually his real name (I later found out it is actually Stevland Hardaway Judkins, which clearly does not have the same ring to it.) That thought was leisurely pushed out and slowly replaced by a feeling of woozy and almost unbearably girly melting as he continued, which is something I rarely have the displeasure of feeling.
10/26 Direct Link
Just outside, to the right of the shelter stood two men wearing suits. One was sporting a fetching pair of what I assume to be designer shades, the other a Bluetooth headset, a small silver and black device that carefully slips over one’s ear to give instant arsehole factor. I couldn’t help but to think that the device mirrored the size and shape of his penis. He did not appear to be having a conversation and the mere sight of the device made me want to punch him in the back of the head and then run away very quickly.
10/27 Direct Link
25 for a whole month. I wasn’t quite sure I would make it here.

I have new projects to undertake, new wrinkles on my face and a new sense of “just get the fuck on with it” washing over me in smelly, piss ridden waves. I bought a self help book but I haven’t quite managed to help myself by reading it yet, this is always the way. “Conquering Your Quarter Life Crisis” or something like that. It is currently sat on my bedroom floor. I have made more use of the packaging that it came in.

Maybe next year.
10/28 Direct Link
Damn I love the feel of adrenalin coursing through my veins, brought on by self induced terror. The panic in the queue. The excuses to try and leave said queue. The thrill of speed and loops and arms in the air and screams in my ears. The smiles and woo hoos and skips when it ends and I just want to do it again and again and again. In the dark it is a different world, spinning through the abyss of the night, the neon lights barely having time to blind my eyes, the rain stinging my painted skin.
10/29 Direct Link
I had my leaving speech a little early as my boss is away for the rest of the week. An extract:

“What can we say about her…? She’s happy, feisty, sad, angry and that’s all within the first 5 minutes. She’s not a girly girl but not a tomboy either. She’s just (insert appropriate name here), one of a kind.” Or words to that effect.

I thought it was a nice speech. They bought me dark chocolates and red wine and a monkey toy. They know me better than I thought they did. Maybe I didn’t give them enough credit.

10/30 Direct Link
I am terrible at becoming friends with women. I immediately think they hate me because I swear and smoke and drink and swig coffee and talk too much. My insecurities are brought forth and then I definitely becoming dislikeable, or if nothing else I become a worthy direction for their pity. She is engaged and plays D&D and works in Millets and her mum teaches Sunday School and she likes real ale. She told me I was a cliché. And here I was thinking that I was something a little different.

I mustn’t dwell on this.

(I think I might.)

10/31 Direct Link
Today is my last day at work. Praise the Lord. I have had enough. Tomorrow NaNoWriMo starts. 50,000 words, 30 days, oodles of insanity.

I am scared. I have butterflies in my stomach and I am sat here wondering what in the hell I am doing. Is this worth it? Can I do it? God, I’ve never written anything like this in my life. To make it worse, he is doing it and he will undoubtedly stalk, therefore making it feel like a competition rather that an opportunity for personal achievement.

Fuck, what do I care? He’s a waffling idiot.