he made me a tape of joy division, he told there was a part of him missing, when I was sixteen, he jumped off a building

Reading The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath and listening to a bit of Perfume Genius. I feel like I should be inspired but actually the book is just comforting to find a character with the same mindset as me. I shall waste away like Esther Greenwood being stuck with too many thoughts of what could be to comprehend, ironically leaving me with no future at all. Although I probably won't stop sleeping and eating and reading like she did, I can draw similarities in our ideas.

"...everything people did seemed so silly, because they only died in the end."

I have conversations in my head about this far too often.

So now I am resigned within myself slightly, whilst thinking from Plath's perspective. Perceiving people quietly, left to wallow in thoughts that don't mean anything really. They are just thoughts. We are just people.

If I lie here that little bit longer doing nothing, what does it matter? The days will stretch on, and on, and everything is just repetition. Everything,

But someday, someone will find me and think I am as wonderful and quirky as Sylvia Plath deserved to be thought of. I love her writing style and if she was like that as a person she deserved more than to let her put her head in an oven and die.

If I ever tried to kill myself I think I'd want to drown.

Wade into the sea, have my clothes and hair swirl about me as I floated until I lost all energy, taking a last breath, submerge myself under. I would look celestial underwater, embraced by water that just longs to occupy my alveoli. And who am I to deny it of that? I am 78% water. Who am I to stop it from reclaiming the rest of my body?

Although drowning isn't like that. You can't give over your life gracefully when drowning. You splutter and retch up the water, coughing, choking. You might mentally be ready for it but your body will never be. There is such thing as too much of a good thing. Too much water, my lungs would scream, too much water.

I know this is how it would be, but I'd still want to drown.

I'm such a happy person.

Oh well.

Anyway, photos from my phobias photoshoots. I'm quite looking forward to this photography exam in fact.

Chiraptophobia- fear of being touched.

if you want me gone there are kinder ways to say so long than spitting in my face

Okay so you made it pretty obvious you were talking about me.

I don't like my cynicism anymore than you do but that is why I write a blog, so that I don't have to waste up time with people I love moaning (even if I do still do it a tiny bit).

You don't know what's happening around me right now, I can't bring myself to talk about it on here because I always avoid stuff like this. It's not even to do with me so why should I lament on and on about it making others upset?

Let me have my outlet for fucks sake. Do you want me to keep stuff in like I used to? Do you remember what that did to me- what you did to me?

And anyway, what fucking right do you have to criticise me? Do you remember what you used to be like?

You really pissed me off, I was happy before I read all that shit you've been spouting about happiness and having a balance of good and bad. A balance? You think you have a fucking balance? You used to have panic attacks at the thought of hurting me. Calm the fuck down is pretty accurate in that case. Other times I saw you, you were overly relaxed on everything from drugs to schoolwork. You took "being balanced" to ridiculous lengths.

Fuck off why don't you.

your heart is like a hand-me-down, something to pass around and around

I rescued my old scribblings off my (pretty much) destroyed laptop. Most of them are shit, especially the first few I wrote. The ones nearer the end I don't even remember writing but they're aren't toooo awful even if I can't remember what they're about. For example:

The heat worked me into a fever from within which I drowned

Swallowed the humid air like gulping down syrup

Smudged face under the hidden storms where I was found

I have a sweet tooth but I can feel my molars rot

If I speak in the power of three, everything will be imperative

But I can count on one hand how much we got

With fragile fingers we push away the more vital fixations

For the frivolity of being childish and angry

Yet I can't handle anything without a degree of trepidation

I can keep my back to the fire butwhat if it starts to burn brighter

What if it starts to singe the base of my spine and I

I can almost feel the carbon monoxide constrict my throat tighter

The static from rough fibres creating friction

Is just short of filling the spaces between sentences

And I am forevermore polishing up my diction

Floating in a haze

I don't remember what the hell was going on when I wrote this. Oh well, makes it more interesting to read back when you have no clue what's going on I guess?

So I'm satisfactorily happy. Shit hits the fans but realising people are still there after it all (which is a weird and strangely enough, new feeling for me) well it's pretty cool. Like I'm not overly close to them but they'll still stand up for me, still talk to me when things go wrong, still be there when I need to moan. I'm no longer being abandoned. It's nice but I'm not used to it so I end up being a slightly awkward figure of a friend. Which is probably why I still feel I'm at a distance from them at the same time as being friends. It's a really disconcerting feeling being on the edges and at the centre all at once.

Summer feels daunting for once. Six weeks seems so much longer than I imagined. I'm not even going abroad this holiday. I used to waste weeks with nothing to do, or just with trips to the same park, the same day repeating itself over and over. But its different this year. I have to balance myself between him and them and they don't seem to want me more often than most. Sometimes he doesn't want me either.

I feel strangely in limbo with everything. When you float through everything without allowing yourself to catch on the edges then everything will become numb eventually. Things mean so much but they aren't anything in context. Is there any point in getting worked up? What is the point at all?

I have to drink to feel things, I have to hurt people, I have to do things I shouldn't and be screamed at and told that I'm worthless and be kicked in the stomach and be hated and be loved. I need extremes or I feel like I'm floating away from everything. When did I become so cold to everything? I'm always doing this. I'm always avoiding the bad stuff.

I'm not sure what matters anymore. I just keep wandering and getting lost within myself. I feel so self centred and so ignorant but I can't help it.

Us.

and now I'm dying, as a message to the town this' what happens if you fuck around

I'm feeling very much on display. Stand me on a plinth and stare and stare and stare.

Let uneducated minds judge and those who ought to know better whisper.

I thought you were better than this. I really hoped you were.

I feel incredibly weary of this. I don't understand why it keeps happening. We should know better by now.

They don't even know me.

I'm starting to wonder if you do.

I pity you though. After tomorrow, well, I don't know who you have left to piss off. I don't like being harsh to people I honestly don't. But you need to know that it's not right. You need to know you're out of order.

You might not see it from where you stand right now but once we explain just, take a step back and look at yourself.

Are you happy doing this to people?

Do you honestly need the attention that much?

If you cry I will not be impressed.

Even if that is hypocritical.

I reckon we can get through this. I don't hold grudges. You seem sorry enough.

But did you even stop to think it's not just me you're hurting.

I don't care what they think of me. They've thought worse. I haven't done anything wrong.

But think about him.

You are fucking lucky he doesn't care so much about it anymore.

We might not be so close anymore, but I still confided in you and to have you frivolously tell strangers... This has happened with people other than me as well. Have you realised at all? You seem a bit wrapped up in your own problems. It's fair enough, essentially we are all self centred creatures and I haven't really been told full stories about what's going on with you but like, have the slightest bit of consideration for other people.

I'm sorry if you read this and it upsets you.

But I felt the need to say it.

I'm sure you understand?

Hopefully. Maybe. Eventually.

second check the odds, was it worth the cost, do you give a toss?

I'm happy, I'm really happy and I don't know why.

I don't have much of a reason to be happy, if anything I have (more than one) reason to NOT be happy but yeah. Happiness, Weird isn't it?

Maybe because I have completely given up caring about my end of years.

Maybe because my friends are being lovely.

Maybe because he is always generally lovely.

I'm lucky, lucky, lucky.

I don't write enough nice things in here. Most of my blog is quite depressing. I apologise for that.

Life is good. It's never that good, but it is good. Proof?

LIST OF GOOD THINGS*

- Photography/ polaroids/ DSLRs /developed film/ proper old cameras/ darkrooms

- The millions of bands I love muchos (this list would be farfarfar too long if I listed all of them)

- Chip shops

- Spending lunchtimes in my school recording studio

- THAT APPLE TURNOVER THING THEY WERE SELLING AT MY SCHOOL CANTEEN TODAY. OMGOSH THAT WAS SO NOM.

- When it's sunny with enough of a breeze to keep you cool, but not cold

- Beds

- Adrenaline

- Really pointless magazines

- Really good lyrics

- Kissing

- Cider/ general alco-pops

- Ellerbisms (check it out)

- Lettuce

- Penguins/ tortoises/ pandas/ any type of bear really

- Him him him him him

*(does not include everything single thing good ever, just a few things for the time being)

This makes me happy.

(For those of you who it is too small to see, if you click on it it should get bigger? Probably?)

in supermarkets they turn the lights off when they want you to leave, but in discos they turn them on

Okay totally in love Los Campesinos yet again. So fucking good.

And I get to see them at Underage Festival this year! YAAAY!

Been looking forward to it for like half a year now. So happy to find them on the line up. Must remember, they're on the Tango Stage.

Other people I am looking forward to seeing:

-Crystal Castles

-Everything Everything

-Late Of the Pier Sound System

-Micachu and the Shapes

even

-MIA

-Lightspeed Champion

-Jakwob

-Darwin Deez

-Egyptian Hip Hop

even fucking

-Unicorn Kid

-Tinie Tempah

-Tinchy Stryder

-Chiddy Bang

ought to be a laugh

Looking forward to it so much since last year I went was bloody brilliant.

Not much left to say, except that THIS MAN IS THE FUCKING SEX.

Oh yes, gotta love some Gareth Campesinos!

makin' sure nightmares turn up in your dreamin'

Right that's decided on then. My theme's going to be phobias.

Possible/probable ones I could do:

Geliophobia- fear of laughter

Claustrophobia- fear of enclosed spaces

Chiraptophobia- fear of being touched

Cacophobia- fear of ugliness

Hynophobia- fear of sleep

Kenophobia- fear of empty spaces

Ligyrophobia- fear of loud noises

Panophobia- fear of everything

I've already done some photos for Lygophobia (fear of darkness). The picture below probably being the best one. Shoved a light bulb up his shirt whilst it was turned on.

The photo below is one of the photos of me. My hair looks a nice colour.

Hmm... I need to get a group of models together, in quite a few of my photos I need a crowd of people. Anyone reading this, you're invited to help out? Volunteer for me please? I will be grateful.

So fucking bored and jealous of those at that party right now. "Yeah, we're going to throw a piss up in the park, sure, come along!"... "Um, now we're having it at her house... I don't know if you're invited... Uh she probably wouldn't mind if you came along? No? OKAY THEN"

WHY DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING TO ME?

You know what, I might as well fuck it and become a social recluse, it wouldn't make much difference anyway.

THERE IS NO FUCKING POINT EVEN TRYING, EVEN GETTING UPSET ABOUT IT.

I get so fucking angry about it. I haven't changed, I'm not different in the slightest but people just now can't see any point to me. Am I not fun anymore? Was I ever fun?

I can't be bothered with this shit anymore. I hate being on the fringe of everything.