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It rained. This morning. It really did. Well, it didn't really, but it definatley moisturised. The rain sort of came up from the ground and now everything is wet. And I've got to go and set up tents this afternoon. And this batch is one of the least creative I've done in a long time (I hope) but it's simple and it's 100 words long. So.
Actually, it's more like a diary, or a one-sided conversation, but that doesn't matter because someone, somewhere, it doing something amazing.
So it doesn't matter what I do, because they're out there.
I walked through the field. I was too tired to run. My one frivolous thought was that I wouldn't be able to wear my cardi tomorrow. I was in dark skinny jeans, welligogs, a red t-shirt, black woollen cardi, red bobble earrings, hair in a high ponytail. I tramped through that sodden field, thunder roaring above my head. Rain came, along with grey skies. Sydney is a girl, as is Aniko. I walked alone under stormy skies. Returned home soaked to the skin. I was sent to the old sofa, with a cup of tea and two wet cats.
Anything and everything
Cups of tea are good
He says he's my brother, but I'm sure we're not related
To live life and enjoy it
He hasn't arrived yet, but he will
The Wee Free Men
I love to write
As often as there is love
As often as there is not
Never gonna last
All the time
Far too much
Yes, what about you?
Even when I can't see them
The one who is always there, the background
All of them...
But for now, maybe blue
Please help us. We are faithful. We are loyal. Please help us. Save us from the storm. Protect us from the waves. Stop the sea from taking us. Please help us. We look to you for guidence. We look to you for answers. We are helpless without you. We wait upon you. We look up to you. We are your everlasting slaves. We will do your bidding. But please, help us. We are lost. We have nowhere to go. We have nothing. We have no one. We are alone. Please help us. Please help us. Please help us.
I leave tomorrow. For a week and a little bit, until the 23rd. And I may not have internet connection. So I may not be writing for a while.
I hope to enjoy myself. I am going to two countries I have never been to before, and one that I have been to so many times that I've lost count. But it'll be a break in the otherwise continual humdrum of holidays.
I promise to miss you if I don't write. I love it here. Tiny insights into other worlds that make me feel at peace. With everyone.
I'm back in the game, people! Yes, I have FOREVER to catch up on but I am back today!
Anyway, on this day I sat in a car for seven hours, doing nothing. I tell a lie. I plugged myself into my ipod, and fantasised. About you, about me, about life. People in my fantasies are people I know and love or don't know and love, but they were there with me, in the car. All of them.
Well, not really, 'cause if they were my car would have been pretty damned cramped. But you know what I mean.
On this day I entered rural Deutschland - Schwarzwald in fact. So there were lots and lots and lots of trees. Miles and miles of them. Basically another day of ipod fantasising, which is all well and good. Sun and service stations. A quick trip through Switzerland (where the lady on the border rather pointedly showed us her gun). A ginormicous lake. Euro. A smell like stale air and leather that seemed to emit from our vehicle. Frantic looks in my direction for a translation when anyone spoke to meine Eltern auf Deutsch. Gods, how I wish to be fluent.
I loved your entry for yesterday. Ever thought of being a novelist, or even a columnist? You should. I don't know many other people who can combine the description of a beautiful setting, and also throw in a crude but humourous touch of reality. You get sadistic comedy writers and you get beautiful novelist - but I'm loving the combination.
If you ever write a book I promise to read it. If you think about it I sort of already have. After all, I've read all your batches - put them together and you've got quite a read. See ya later.
I am entirely too impressionable.
I mean it. One James Bond movie and I'm wearing dark glasses, on the look out for gun-men. After a chick-flick I'm daydreaming about guys I barely know, picturing my wedding, naming my kids. A Pratchett novel before I go to sleep and I wake up in Ankh-Morpork with Sam Vimes, Moist von Lipwig or Rincewind. And I just love it.
I can't help myself. I can get completely lost in a world of Sherlock Holmes or Gracie Heart. But I have to come back every time.
It hurts so bad.
We need to talk.
And, ok, we can't really talk on here, but we certainly need to write. Because I can't read your mind, so I don't know what you're thinking. And I really need to know what you're thinking right now. So.
I am going to say to you what you once said to me, which is:
I have very much enjoyed talking to you. If you want to carry on our written conversation, feel free. If you want to stop, I will be sad, but feel free.
But I would like to know.
'Did you go to the ball?' Buttons asked Cinderella.
'No' she replied, 'I had housework'.
'You had to do housework?' asked a horrified Buttons.
'No, I wanted to. The last ball I went to, some guy asked me to marry him because he liked my shoe size. He must have been drunk. Balls aren't really my scene'.
Buttons looked at her. He knew he loved her, but she was too good for him. She grinned back at him.
'Meet you at the stables?' she said. Then she kissed him quickly on the lips and was gone.
'Here you are, my sweet' said Prince Charming as he and Snow White walked together along the woodland path. She took the bunch of flowers he had picked for her and sniffed them happily before handing them back.
'Did you know that's illegal?' she asked, and them stomped back to the cottage. She rang her friend Rapunzel to complain.
'I mean, he can't even spare a fiver to buy me flowers!' she cried.
'Tell me about it' said Rapunzel sympathetically. 'All my guy does is complain about me living on the top floor'.
'You cut it short'
'Yeah, I know. Do you like it?'
'You cut it short'
'Well, having it that long was a real bore after a while. I mean, washing it and brushing it took so long - it was just so much effort'
'Yeah, but Rapunzel, you cut it short'
'And? I don't see you spending hours and hours tending to long blonde curls! Anyway, I couldn't do anything with it - it was in a constant plait, like a bloody rope! This pixie cut is so much more stylish'
'You cut it short'
'Your powers of observation are astounding'
'Excuse me, could I have a word?'
'I'm from the Daily Fairytale, are you the one that goes by the name of Price Charming?'
'Er, yes. Why?'
'Well, we'd just like to know how long you've been two-timing your girlfriend'
'You should be. It seems to us that you've been in nearly every fairytale ever told, and you always get with the girl. Do they know that you're a backstabbing liar with a history of violence towards magical creatures? Or do you keep that a secret?'
Why are fairytales so FAKE???
Today, in the middle of August, I woke up on my long summer holiday to find that it was snowing.
So instead of the sun, sea and surf that are the typical sibilantic features of a summer holiday, I was landed with another s-word, that just happened to be snow. And not even snowman snow, it was a drizzley kind of sleety snow. How suckish is that? And to make matters worse, to make matters even worse, my silly sibling won't share his sweets.
Was that a bit over the skyline with the S's?
If you could only see, the beast you've made of me, I held it in but now it seems instead you're running free, Screaming in the dark, I howl when we're apart, Drive our teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart
Now there's no holding back, I'm in to attack, The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound, I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hollow ground
Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my bed, I want to claw out and tear out all of your tenderness
I'm not calling you a liar, Just don't lie to me. I'm not calling you a thief, Just don't steal from me, I'm not calling you a ghost, Just stop haunting me, And I'll love you so much, I'm gonna let you, Kill me.
There's a ghost in my lungs And it sighs in my sleep, Wraps itself around my tongue, As it softly speaks, And it walks, And it walks, with my legs, To Fall, To Fall, at your feet.
There but for the grace of god go on, And when you kiss me, I'm happy enough to die.
Between two lungs it was released, The breathe that passed from you to me, That flew between us as we slept, Slipped from your mouth into mine,
It was trapped between two lungs
And all the days of begging, The days of theft, No more gasping for a breath, The air filled me head to toe, I can see the ground fall out below, I have this breathe and I hold it tight, And I keep it in my chest and on my mind, I pray to god this breathe will last, It pushes past my lips as I gasp,
No kiss, no gentle word could wake me from this slumber. Until I realise that it was you who held me under
Felt it in my fists, in my feet, in the hollows of my eyelids. Shaking through my skull, through my spine and down through my ribs.
No more dreaming of the dead as if death itself was undone, No more calling like a crow for a boy, for a body in the garden, No more dreaming like a girl so in love, No more dreaming like a girl so in love with the wrong world
I walked 5 miles today. I did. I just got up walked 5 miles and went back to bed. But I walked up 5 miled on exceedingly steep incline, then decline. Through trees, fields, water and houses. Past horses, bikes, waterfalls and avalanch warnings. And falling rocks. And a massive snail. And millions of ants, which I tried my hardest not to tread on. And other people. And lonliness. Mountains and cliffs and sun and snow. Without food, without water. In boiling heat and pouring rain I walked, oh how I walked.
It was a long walk.
No walls can keep me protected, Nothing in between me and the rain, And you can't save me now, I'm in the grip of a huricne, I'm gonna blow myself away,
I'm going out, I'm gonna drink myself to death, And in the cold, I see you with someone else, I race myself, Cos I know it's going to hurt, But I like to think at least things can't get any worse
No hope, Nothing to keep me from the storm, And you can't hold me down, Cos I belong to the hurricane, It's going to blow this all away,
Te amo, She says to me, I hear the pain in her voice. Then we danced underneath the candelabra she takes the lead. Then I saw it in her eyes its over
Then she says te amo then she put her hand around me waist, I told her no, She cries Te amo, I told her I never run away but let me go, My soul is crying, without asking why I said te amo, won't somebody tell me what she said,
Don't it mean I love you
Think it means I love you
Don't it mean I love you
You know so much about me. You don't even realise. You have control over me. If you told me to do something, I'd do it. That's the one thing I promised myself I'd never do, I promised I'd never fall for someone so hard, but I have. I'm sorry if this isn't what you want. I'm sorry if you don't even realise it. But I feel like I know you even if I don't really. Not in real life. I don't know you.
Maybe (how is this possible) I'm in love with someone in my imagination. Is it you?
I GOT AN A!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I got an A I got an A I got an A!!!!!! In fact I got two A's and one B, which means I reached all my target grades. I am happy. I am content. I was practically bouncing the whole way in the car, and then when I got the envelope I couldn't open it. I just couldn't. But I did. And I am so happy. I got exactly what I wanted and I couldn't ask for more. And I got the same as him!!!
I am so happy.
The 25th. For some reason I feel like that date should be important to me somehow, but I'm doing nothing of consequence. Just sitting, annoyed at the fact that I cannot seem to be able to watch the last episode of the Sherlock series on the internet, preparing myself for a great loss. Which will occur on September 7th, or near enough. It's raining, and while the constant pattering on the window sooths me, my room is dark. I am not hungry, and I have a cup of tea, so I am vaguely content. But I cannot work out why.
I will probably regret writing this so early when something amazing happens later, but for now I have something to write about. Last night I suffered a scare from a massive spider. I am sincerly aracnaphobic, although I try not to be. I get close to one and my breathing quickens, my stomach clenches, I freeze up.
So when I got into bed, still on the look-out for any more, both of my gorgeous cats came and sat with me. I woke up four times last night, and they were there everytime time. I love them so much.
You know for a minute there I thought you weren't going to reply. It's nice to know someone out there actually reads my batches. I had to catch a load, I thought no one except me would ever look back on them. Anyway, I missed talking to you, which sort of surprised me. I didn't think I'd care, but I scrolled down the advent feature everyday, looking for your words. I enjoy your words. Some make me laugh, and some make me cry, but I read all of them. Every single 100 words.
At peace with the world. Not really. Never will be really, I suppose, but at least a little right here right now. Or maybe I'm just too tired to feel any strong emotions. It was a good night last night, but a late one. Or a really early one, depending on how you look at it. I saw friends in the paper - happy with their results too, I guess. Waiting impatiently now, for braces, traintracks. I want them to sort out my mess of a mouth. Sherlock now - yay. It worked!
I am fickle, but at least I am true.
It was a good dream. An impossible one, but good. Impossible because I'm too young, not good enough. Impossible because he's not real, not the same. Impossible because I've never met him, don't really know him. Impossible because he's not listening, not reading. Impossible because it just is, and I can't help that. I can't stop it being impossible, not matter how hard I try. I can't reach him, can't reach out to him. He doesn't care. He doesn't know.
It's never going to happen.
Unless, of course, I make it happen.
Time to Change.
Got back from an all-nighter this morning. I slept from 8am-10am. I drank 4 cans of coke, and all night my limbs were shaking from caffeine overdose. Elly had it worse - she drank a full 7 cans! I woke up to find I was still wearing my jeans, and I was spread out on the sofa with Olivia. I went a little crazy, they said they'll never see me the same way again. Sophie said: 'Annie, I thought you were so innocent and pure!' - meaning she was surprised that I could be dirty minded. But it was fun.
It might be the last day of August, but I'm going to write something depressing anyway.
My best friend (well, one of them) is moving to the USA. For 3-5 years. And today we had a surprise party for her. It was so lovely, we made a scrapbook full of pictures and everything. I've only ever seen her cry once before, and I've known her for a decade, but today I could see the tears welling up. So we hugged her and laughed and smiled, all the while secretly wailing inside.
I am scared of losing her. That's a fact.
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