Call me a safe bet. I'm betting I'm not

I really, really don't get you sometimes. It's annoying because really all I want is a bit of peace and not to feel so tightly wound around you. I can't speak for anyone else, but you make me uncomfortable. I'm not entirely sure how you see yourself. When you do things, do you see yourself in a film or a book? Sometimes I think it's kind of like fiction to you. All these things, romantic or otherwise, they aren't real life. They are these twisted things you've read about or watched that you think life should be like. Life isn't a fairytale.

I don't mean to be cruel and burst your bubble, if I did I would be more harsh. I just find it difficult to wrap my head around that someone can live their life thinking that these things are right. It's okay to like something or someone, it's another thing to let them consume you and become you're whole life. When I think of you I see a jigsaw of all these things that you think define you. I don't see one solid person but ideas cobbled together by other people. Sort of like a Frankenstein of fiction. All this stuff that means nothing. Emptiness.

What I really want is for you to find yourself. It's like being around a character in a book or a film then being around a real person. Optimism isn't bad. Delusion is. Maybe this is just me. It's just how I feel. Attaching different things to yourself doesn't make you a person, developing your own persona makes you a person. Right now you're just a parody of what you could be - in my eyes anyway.

My body is an orphanage, we take everyone in

So last night I ended up going to town with my sister and a couple of her friends. Amazingly, none of my friends could make it for one reason or another, so that was a bit of a bummer. Nevertheless it was a good night.

Me and Oz managed to get through nearly a whole bottle of vodka before leaving the house, but didn't even feel tispy. It wasn't till we shared a bottle of wine in Royal London that the booze began to take it's toll. We then went onto a bar where we had these Baileys shots with whipped cream, then we went off to Blast Off.

I've never been to Blast Off before but I thought it was pretty awesome. The music is good, especially when they get some of the more dancey rock on like The Prodigy, that was great fun to dance to. One of the more memorable moments was watching this tall old guy dancing around like a prat next to his friend who was probably about half the size.

In true Charlotte fashion I managed to fall over. Cringe! It wasn't even because I was drunk though. The floor was slippy and my heels were new, so I just went down like a sack of potatoes. Luckily people were more sympathetic than cruel, so I just got up and carried on like nothing had happened. Eventually it was forgotten anyway.

I suppose I have a lot to thank The Killers for last night, too. Me and Hannah were having a dance and she saw someone she knew so I was left to fly solo. I found dancing by myself to be quite fun to be honest. I was so drunk I just got lost in the music really. But this guy came up to me and asked me who I was with, etc. And then he started dancing with me, and you know, it was fun. I girl never kisses and tells. But I did kiss him. :P

He did kind of spoil it by persistently asking me to go home with him. He kept saying: "Can't you just disappear for a few hours?" and I was like, no, not really mate. One, I'm not really that kind of girl, two, you are a complete stranger and three, I have no mobile phone to contact anyone if you turn out to be a psycho! I know. I'm so optimistic about the human race.

All the same it was good. It was fun, although I am paying for it today. It's nearly 11pm and I'm STILL hungover. How is this possible?!

Anyhow, peace out.
xoxox

I met God and he had nothing to say to me

Sometimes, I am afraid of death. It's not a fear of dying in a painful way but a fear of what happens afterwards. Instinctively I feel that although the body is dead, somehow you can still think. I'm terrified of being unable to move or articulate but being acutely aware of the darkness and the loneliness. I think it's because, being alive, you can only comprehend being alive. Even when you're asleep you're brain is still ticking and aware, in the form of dreams. So to think about complete nothingness is like thinking of closing your eyes and never being able to open them ever again, but being totally alone with your own thoughts. Personally, I can literally think of nothing worse than that.

Sometimes, like now, I can look on death as some kind of mythical being. Kind of like when you talk about a TV show and you know it's not real. I can talk about it and think about it but somehow I feel as though I am immune from it. Like death cannot touch me. Maybe that's the residue of childhood egocentricity. The world revolves around me, therefore I can't die or else there would be no world. And in a way, symbiotically, that is true. Without me there is no world for me. And without the world there is no me. It would be quite nice to have a God complex. To live in the knowledge that you were the creator of the universe and so have total control of what happens.

Sadly, it's probably not the case.

Everyone questions heaven and hell. The existence of these two things. I don't know. Maybe everyone will experience both their heaven and hell in the last few electro-impulses through the brain as they die. The brain kind of flicks through the pleasurable things in life (heaven) and then through the unpleasurable things in life (hell), in a split second you experience all the good times and all the crap times. Kind of like the last battle between the id and the superego. The id trying to console itself in death of the pleasures that life has offered, the superego desperately kicking back at the id, trying to keep the balance, showing the unpleasant things, repenting sins. That's the way life progresses, isn't it? Even if you don't want to take a Freudian view it's impossible to deny the roller coaster of life. Sometimes we let ourselves eat the whole tub of ice cream and sometimes we force ourselves to do things that we don't necessarily want to do. Life is full of pleasure and pain.

I've been close to bringing death on myself a few times. Once upon a time I actually would have welcomed the silence of death and the cleanliness of death. I suppose I hated myself and the world I had created for myself. I hated waking up in the morning and being stuck in the same life. But once I'd passed all that angst (for the most part) I began to see the pleasures of life. It was almost like before I'd kept myself so strictly in check, not allowed myself to be happy. But once you cross some imaginary line it's like the floodgates crash open and the thought of death doesn't seem so appealing anymore. Everybody gets lonely and everyone hurts once in a while, it's natural, but if we look ahead at the road of life left, we should embrace every opportunity to turn our fortunes around. Sure, you can't be happy all the time. Life has its ups and downs, but the point is that we shouldn't turn away from the good things in an attempt to punish ourselves because sooner or later death will come for us. And no matter what lies ahead I don't want to look back on my life in that split second and feel more hell than heaven.

Love is a doing word

I've considered talking to my friends about this. They are some of the most brilliant people on the planet. But then I think what's the point, because there's nothing they can do. There's nothing anyone can do.

I've tried to divert my attentions to other people than him, because it hurts to think about him. How can it be that the moment you're not lonely anymore, you can feel at your lonliest? I guess I fell for him. I fell for him so quick I didn't realise it until tonight. I sat there and watched him say every single line along with them. He sang every single song. And the anxious look in his eyes all the while just showed how much he cared. I never thought I could be so lucky but so very unlucky at the same time.

When I first met him I didn't know who he was or what he did. It was only until we had talked more did I find out that we'd been living under each others noses for the past year. All I'd needed to do was take an interest in my cousins academic life and he would have been there, then again why would I have bothered to take that particular interest. When my grandad asked me to go to the play tonight, I jumped at the chance. I knew how much work he'd put into it, how hard he had worked, how passionate he was about his job. I wanted to be there to see his face. Of course, to everyone else I was there for my cousin, to cheer him on.

When I saw him running around in his suit and tie, my heart jumped into my throat. I wanted to get up there and then and be near him. But of course I couldn't be. Why is it that I always fall into 'relationships' that are impossible to work? I seem to attract complications. All I wanted tonight was to go home with him, but that would never be acceptable to anyone.

The play started and he was totally absorbed in it. I could see in his eyes and on his face how proud he was of all of them, even if it was just a tiny production with a bunch of kids. I managed to catch his eye about four times, and even that wasn't enough. But I knew just how much he wanted to enjoy his night and I wanted to enjoy it with him.

I feel so lucky to be with someone as passionate as him, as caring. But then I feel so unlucky to be moving away after such a short time. I loved him tonight. I get shivers when I think of him singing, and the look in his eyes.

Urgh, why does everything have to be so complicated? Why can't I just be with him without all the problems, without all the sneaking around? And even now while I feel this I don't regret any of it. I love how he goes red easily, I love his smile, I love the way he sings and I love the look of concentration he has in his eyes when he's focusing on something, I love spending time with him, kissing him, cuddling him, joking around with him. I love every single thing about him, yet I'm going to have to leave him soon, and it's becoming harder and harder to think about as I get more involved.

Jealousy soothes rejection with a kiss

What happens when you want to get away from yourself?

I’m feeling this right now. I wish I could just float up out of my body and feel peaceful for a while, without feeling at war with myself. The only problem is that the only solution to this particular problem is death. I don’t want to die. I just want to rest, just for a little while.

I feel like all the hope has been sucked out of the world. I feel like I’m suspended in this vacuum and there will be no happy ending, not for me anyway. Yeah, you can spend your time reading and watching the happy endings. Escapism, is what’s is called. But at the end of the day it’s all just an illusion – a cruel one at that. I’m starting to feel like true love doesn’t exist in this world, that we’re only driven by our hopes and ambitions.

Do you think that things will ever change? Do you think that the world will change? I don’t think so. There will always be war and hunger and chaos. Nothing is ever peaceful – only death. What is the point? Why are we here? I guess that’s a question a lot of people have asked and never found an answer to. I’ve considered all the possibilities. God is one of them. That’s whom everyone turns to. God. When something good happens it was down to God. When something bad happens it was down to God, too. I think we’re just trying to pass the buck to disguise just how animalistic we are. People kill other people, people deceive and hurt people to achieve their own means. I’m not pure, or clean. I don’t claim that for a second. No one is. Everyone has their dirty little secrets, even the people up there on the movie screens or on the television. They all know they’ve done something terrible, unforgivable.

Maybe that’s the way forward. Forgiveness. Maybe we should all turn to each other and let each other know that it’s okay. Whatever you have done, or thought, or planned, it’s okay because we’re all filthy at the end of the day. We’re all unclean. I wish someone would forgive me.

I don’t know why I’m writing this. I think I’m trying to purge these ugly thoughts from my mind. I think I’m trying to get some hope to shine through. Tomorrow will be another day yet it’s just as repetitive. Still my heart will beat and my lungs drag air through me. Still will cells pick up oxygen and deposit carbon dioxide. Still will I move and breathe and worst of all think. Something I do too much of. Thinking. It’s an overrated concept. What’s the point in thinking, anyway? Einstein is still dead. Stephen Hawking is still paralysed, unable to speak by himself. What does that say? There is no mercy, none at all. No one is spared from hurt and pain. No one. No wonder we turn to drugs, or a poison of our choice. No wonder people write novels and make films and television shows that are out of this world. I think even they, sometimes, try to spread some hope. But the one thing we cannot escape is real life. I’m sick of being hurt. But I don’t want this to be about me. It’s about us all. It’s about pain, something we all have in common.

I'm starting to feel we stayed together out of fear of dying alone

Have you ever read the original Little Mermaid story? In fact, have you ever read any of the real fairytales? The ones before Disney morphed them and gave them happy endings.

Today, I feel like a realised something terrible about the world. I realised that no one ever gets there happy ending. Take Torchwood, for example, because that is the first thing that comes to mind. Things can never be left happy. People die, or do terrible things, or leave other people behind. Now isn't that just a wonderful reflection on life? Never has the door closed and the phrase '...and they lived happily ever after' rang true. I look at my parents, at my mother and her alcoholism and bitterness towards my father, and I know then that no one can ever be truly happy.

Things fuck up, things get ruined. Like a lot of girls I grew up on Disney, but they miss out the worst parts. In the original Little Mermaid, she not only loses her voice but every step she takes is pure agony, and she doesn't even get the guy! He's in love with someone else. The only good and decent thing about it is she does not take the opportunity to kill him to become a mermaid again. She'd rather end her own life. It still sucks for her though, she's still hurt.

I'm not sure why I'm posting this. Mostly because I am angry. Angry at myself for ever believing in happy endings. Angry at the world for not providing them. I feel like it is hopeless. Totally hopeless. And I may sound cynical and morbid, but at this point in time, it's the truth.

Sitting here I can feel all my muscles seizing up, I suppose this is what exercise does to you. If I stretch out my bones crack, shift back into place. I'm trying not to be annoyed or frustrated. I know it's unfair to be angry with you when you do these things and aren't really aware of them. I just wish sometimes you would realise it's not all about you. Sometimes I just want to be the only one who is angry or happy, or whatever. We don't need to compare.

It's an odd feeling not having to think about exams or whatever. It's like being suspended. It's like time has stopped and any minute now it will snap back on to full speed again and I won't be able to keep up again. Maybe that will be when I start university. Maybe I'll be hurled into something headfirst and things will all happen so fast. That's not always a bad thing. It's rather exciting, actually. It's the monotony I can't stand.

When I'm at home I'll change the ring tone on the house phone or the screen. I have to change something to break up the repetitiveness of it all. I like shaking things up a bit.

I'm not overly sure why I wrote this. I suppose I felt like I needed to write something to justify myself. I can't help how I feel, can I?