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04/01 Direct Link

Just in case you didn't quite realise.

In descending order.

Myself
Brussel sprouts
Satan
Working until I die of exhaustion
Becoming obsessive over certain things
Feeling useless
Not doing something
Over analysing everything
Being Ill
Politics, in any form
Bees and wasps
Driving
Being a passenger
Food
Flowers
Sitting and thinking
The sun
Butterflies
Lying down
Looking at the stars
Learning useless information
Memorising poems
Walking slowly in the rain
Sleep
Listening to jazz records whilst the sunlight filters through the window
Laughing until I cry
Harmonica
Piano
Tenor saxophone
Alto saxophone
Reading
Isaac
Talking to you
You
You
You

04/02 Direct Link
Today was a good day.

I haven't played hide-and-seek for years. Either I'm out of practise, or I am now too lanky to hide anywhere effectivly.

I like talking to you, and I like hearing you sing.

Coldplay floated over the air towards the end. I found it didn't fit the mood. Then again, after a while, I stopped paying attention to the music.

You didn't run away screaming, which I thought was a very real possibilty.

Whispering at the end. I could have stayed there all night. Forever, if that's not overly sentimental.

Hold you there forever.
04/03 Direct Link

I know it's dull, but it does manage to somewhat describe how I am feeling. Which is a first. I've never been very good at showing/saying/describing my feelings...
 
love love love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love love love

04/04 Direct Link
Who's to say it can't last forever?

There may come a time when we are sepreated by continents and oceans and mountains and...armies of armed rebels.

There may come a point where I cannot physically see you. But I will talk to you via the internet. If the computer breaks, I will send you letters. If the postmen go on strike, I wil train a carrier pigeon. If I have to eat the pigeon, I will send smoke signals.

That is a promise. When I said I could hold you forever, I meant it.

Assuming you want me to.
04/05 Direct Link

I have this idea.

The idea goes like this.

If something nice is happening to me, then something bad will have to happen at a later stage.

The world, I believe, is keeping score. It has a large tally chart that it checks regularly and, should there be too many marks on the 'everything is going well' side, it will contrive to ensure that my life regains some sort of balance.

I sometimes imagine it as a set of scales, with large eyes peering and staring, trying to make the scales as even as possible.

...Or maybe I'm too pessimistic.

04/06 Direct Link
'Getting on your nerves' is a strange phrase.

For some reason, I imagine it as a cricket tap-dancing up and down my arm. But that's just me...

I don't think you could get on my nerves. It takes a lot to make that cricket dance.

You may say disjointed and awkward. I would say sweet and calm and gentle. But that's just me...

I had a dream. A couple of dreams. A while ago. They were the happiest moments of my life. I didn't really want to wake up.

But, as you know, that's just me...
04/07 Direct Link
I was scared today.

Scared by how people react to when you step outside the social norm.

I wore ribbons in my hair today. To help raise money for charity.

My friends accepted it, of course, without any bother. It was the people I didn't know who worried me.

There were shouts of 'nice bow!' People stared in a very un-subtle way. All these things were prefectly berable.

It was when someone pointed and laughed that I felt scared.

I understand it was a strange thing to do, but surely that should be applauded as brave, not laughed at.
04/08 Direct Link
It was sunny, today.

A shame, then, that most of the day was taken up by biology revision.

I turned up half an hour early, so sat in the sun with a couple of friends. One of them gave me a surprisingly good massage.

Then, revision.

Quick break, during which I went out into the sun, with my friends.

More revision.

Lunch, where we brought fish and chips, went to the duck pond (which is once again covered in scaffolding) and sat in the sun.

More revision.

It's a shame I did not have time to enjoy the sunshine.
04/09 Direct Link

One for sorrow.

I have never been very good at goodbyes. A part of me thinks that they are not really happening.

On the last day of year six, my friend called me a robot, because I was the only one who was not crying.

Another part reminds me that most goodbyes are soon followed by a hello. You go, and you come back. That is how it works.

Sometimes, I feel I make goodbyes too brief. A quick moment of contact.

Other times, I feel I attribute too much significance to the event.

It's one extreme or the other...

04/10 Direct Link
I was writing a story the other day, when the paper I was writing on started screaming.

'Why are you screaming?' I asked.

'It hurts!' The paper cried, 'Your horrible, horrible words hurt!'

I didn't think my words were that bad.

'I don't think my words are that bad.'

'They are!' It shouted, 'You're clawing my back with your terrible words. It hurts!'

'I'm so sorry.' I said, and rubbed out the words. The paper sighed with relief.

'That feels much better. Much, much better.'

'Would you like me to try again?'

'No.'

So I threw it in the bin.
04/11 Direct Link

Two for joy

When I imagine joy, I see a big ball of metal, with lots of layers.

The layers are made up 'happy' and 'extatic' and 'over-the-moon' and 'chuffed' and 'pleased'. They are metal sheets which are bent and curved to form the ball.

If you strip all of those away, removing each metal plate one by one, you will eventually reach the core. The core is made of pure iron, and glows, fluctuating between red and white.

That core, the iron core, is joy. Pure joy, filtered to a fine taste. Joy, the point of human existance.

04/12 Direct Link
'I think...'

'Therefore you are?'

'No. I think...I think that people fear too much.'

'What do you mean by that?'

'Well, if we're afraid of something, it gives us an excuse not to do it. I am afraid of strangers, so I won't help that person in need. I'm afraid that I'll never be good enough to get in to university, so I won't try.'

'You're saying that fear gives us the ability to carry on with our own self-contained lives?'

'Pretty much.'

'Anything else?'

'No.'

'I'd of thought you would have a conclusion.'

'I'm afraid of endings.'
04/13 Direct Link
Three for a girl

'Do you remember when I first said I loved you?'

'Of course.'

'I...don't think it was true.'

'That's somewhat discouraging. And hurtful.'

'I don't mean it like that.'

'Carry on.'

'I didn't love you.'

'Thanks.'

'Let me finish. No, I didn't love you. I hardly knew you. I liked you. I found you interesting. I enjoyed talking to you. What I should have said was, I think I could love you.'

'Why didn't you?'

'It's not a terribly romantic statement. And, I suppose, I was trying to impress you.'

'Oh.'

'I love you.'

'Really?'

'Yes.'
04/14 Direct Link

He closed his eyes, putting down 'Mrs Dalloway' and placed his head against the wall.

It wasn't a bad book. He just wished the Woolf used more full stops. The breathless nature of the sentences were starting to grate.

He hadn't slept well, and had rather hoped for a peaceful day. He hadn't had a peaceful day in...well...years. Once you passed the tender ages of twelve, all days seemed to become a whirling torrent of anger and work and lack of sleep.

He opened his eyes and tried to read. He had great empathy for Septimus Warren Smith.

04/15 Direct Link
I will hide here, until it all goes away.

No blame. It will all go away. I just have to wait long enough.

You might be able to find me. You might even see me. You might even touch me. A gentle nudge on the shoulder.

I won't move. I'll stay there, hiding, until it goes away.

Hiding is better. Always better. Then nobody gets hurt. There can be no wrong impressions, for there will be no impressions.

You can hide here, too. No, not you. You. I would rather like the company.

It can get lonely, in my mind.
04/16 Direct Link
People seem to be afraid to open their souls. I often wonder why.

Say, for example, you write something on this website, which is very personal. Then someone reads it. Nothing bad will happen. I find that people are far kinder than we give them credit for.

I have no worries about opening my soul. There's not much in it. Only a very small child sitting in the corner on a stool, clutching a balloon. He is wondering whether he can stop himself growing up, or, as a last resort, whether he can run away with someone. Possibly to Indonesia.
04/17 Direct Link
They came around again, yesterday.

Food was dropped on the floor, although they are better at using forks.

They are very good at walking, but this does make it harder to keep track of them.

I played them music on the piano. They even had a go. I don't think much of their taste in music. Twinkle-twinkle little star was better recieved than Take 5.

We went to the park, and I realised how much I loved swings.

They stole the magnets from the fridge, and tried to take my Easter Egg.

You would have loved it, I think.
04/18 Direct Link

Four for a boy

His heart had been hardened, forced to throw up
fortifications against anyone naive enough to attempt
to try and settle in this New World.

Unknown to him, a weed had cracked its way across
the surface, leaving a trail of green gushing from the
ramparts.

Jericho was taken with shouts.
This wall fell with the written word.

He still failed to fully understand what was happening, as if
denying or diluting the fact would, in some way,
help.

He would soon realise that he did not want
help.

He wanted her.




And his attempts at poetry were terrible, verging on criminal.

04/19 Direct Link
I recently was sent a letter from the Liberal Democrats.

In it, they outlined why they thought they should be elected, made numerous promises, explained that the Conservatives were not really very nice people (despite what the coalition tells you) and that Labour would have no chance of winning here.

Therefore, they concluded, by voting Liberal Democrats, you are voting for change,

It was nice that they sent me a letter, and they did seem to genuinely care.

Of course, I am only 17, so cannot vote. This could help explain why the country is in a bit of a mess.
04/20 Direct Link
'Right lads! We are going to Libya.'

'Why?'

'We are going to help the rebels to protect civilians, helping them get organised, that sort of thing.'

'I thought we weren't going to train the rebels?'

'We're not! We're just...helping them.'

'What if they, you know, use our training against Gadaffi's forces?'

'That may be a risk we just have to take.'

*wink*

'Why did you wink at me?'

'No reason. Just remeber, we are NOT training the rebels to FIGHT Gadaffi. We are NOT trying to remove GADAFFI from POWER.'

*wink*

'Why do you keep winking at me? You're weird.'
04/21 Direct Link
A smell snuck up on me. It glided through my senses and took me back to recent memory so quickly that it hurt.

I love that memory.

It felt like my rib-cage was trying to crawl out of my body in a bid for freedom. My heart was beating to a tune that I could only imagine at.

It was a surprising smell. Surprising to find it in the garden, where you would expect flowers and grass and sky to overpower everything else.

This smell survived. Not for long, but long enough. To take me back to that night.
04/22 Direct Link
Five for silver

What do you think liquid silver would taste like?

Metallic would be the obvious word that springs to mind.

I imagine it would be cool. It would be the same sensation as when you drink cold water on a hot day. It would settle in the chest, and you could feel it working its way through your body.

I don't think it would be refreshing.

I don't know why, but I think it would also taste of lilac. Or lavender.

It would be very smooth. The smoothest drink that you ever drank. It would just flow right down.
04/23 Direct Link
I am making spaghetti bolognese, listening to Jools Holland having re-read some Terry Pratchet books.

Not bad, for a day's work.

I say work...

I sang along whilst dicing and slicing carrots and celery. And mushrooms. I've never seen the point of mushrooms. They have no taste, and have a strange texture. It's like if air was made solid and covered in earth for a small period of time.

I enjoy cooking. It's one of the few things that I can do with my hands, without it ending in utter disaster.

The sun was out, too. That was good.
04/24 Direct Link
'Good morning. How are you?'

'Fine. Are you alive?'

'...Yes...Why?'

'Well, I find that asking someone how they are isn't a good question. How can someone hope to articulate the answer to that question correctly? How to express all your hopes and fear and love and joy and pain and sorrow in an exchange that's only supposed to last a few minutes?'

'Ah.'

'At least when I ask if you're alive, you can only answer yes or no. Although, if you answered no, I would be slightly worried.'

'You're wierd.'

'I may be, but at least I am alive.'
04/25 Direct Link

It hurts.

Is it supposed to hurt? Are you meant to feel like bees are swarming in your chest?

Am I drowned? Is it right? Am I feeling too much, too fast?

It hurts.

Is that proper? To feel like two flints are being rubbed together in your heart?

Am I lost? Can I no longer distinguish what or who I am?

It hurts.

Should this be? Should it feel like my heart is beating against a cage?

Am I angry? Is it anger that makes me want to scream until my soul bursts?

It hurts.

Should it hurting feel...nice?

04/26 Direct Link
Hug a lug a bug a mug a dig a spud a nud a hug a love a stug a gug a hug a yug a tug a rug a wug a fug a cug a cugger and hugger a pug a kug a klug a klig a kloog a klip a hug a hold a fold a brug a nug a jug a vug a qug a tog a hug a rig a rog a pog a hug a hug a hug a thrug a thrig a hug.

I missed the hugs. More than I thought I would.
04/27 Direct Link
Six for gold

Sometimes, I feel that I could just curl up into a ball in the middle of the floor and cry until I become as empty as a vase.

Sometimes, I feel that it would just be easier if I could simply cease all feeling, to become a mindless, humanless lump of nothing.

Sometimes, I just wish that I could stop having these pathetic thoughts, remember how lucky I am and stop attention seeking.


Sometimes, I wish I could stop disgusting myself.

...I have just realised that this has nothing to do with gold.

Gold gold gold gold.

There.
04/28 Direct Link
I saw a fulffagumfer in the sky yesterday.

It didn't fly very gracefully. Fluffagumfers don't, normally. They look like a giant pink wall surrounded by clouds, with hundreds of little wings telling gravity where it can go shove itself.

Fluffagumfers are not normally seen. They enjoy sitting on top of a mountain, trying to sing so high in pitch that the sky will begin to crack. They think that once this happens, they will be able to slip through the crack and find a world where they belong.

It's very good luck to see a fluffagumfer. Very good luck indeed.
04/29 Direct Link
Seven for a secret never to be told

'I think I've figured it out.'

'Figured what out?'

'You.'

'You've figured me out?'

'I've figured out why you do and say things.'

'Right.'

'You're taking the mick.'

'I don't think that's very fair...'

'No, I mean, you're taking the mick out of yourself. Your accent, your stories, the way you talk to people, the way you act. You just mock yourself all the time.'

'There's a lot to mock.'

'You really don't take yourself seriously, and you take not taking yourself seriously not...seriously.'

'Well done.'

'You really do hate yourself...'
04/30 Direct Link
'Actually, I don't think that's true.'

'You don't hate yourself?'

'No. It's just...I don't believe that life is allowed to be kind to me. Nothing nice is allowed to happen, and if it does, it simply means that it will soonn be taken away. I wait for the pain to come, even during moments of pure joy.'

'That's really bleak.'

'I think that is was really determines my actions. I'm afraid of becoming too happy, which leads me to blowing things out of proportion. I create problems where there are none to satisfy my neurotic, pathetic, stupid belief-system.'