“I like you, a lot in fact,” I blurted out.

“So do I.”

“Really?”

“It should be that way. If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t be here,” you said.

A pause. This honesty was something new.

You looked confused, almost hurt. “Is it so difficult to accept that?”

Four in the morning was the time for secrets. There was no filter between our mouths and brains. Everything tumbling out, liquid sweet. At four in the morning, even a lie was a half-truth at least. We watched each other, I with wariness, you with something terrifyingly like fondness.

A hand on my cheek. “Your eyes are black.” A shock. “Really black.”

“Yes, they are.”

“I’ll wait till they change colour.”

“They won’t ever,” I whispered. “You might end up waiting forever.”

I just want to sleep forever and not wake up. Believing in anything is terrifying. Except science. I could get behind that any day.

I want to eat my hands. I want my essays to write themselves. I want to stop dropping dead every 5 hours from some mysterious tropical malady. Can dehydration carry over from four days prior?

I like broken things. I like damaged people. If you aren’t like me, I can’t love you.

2. walking to the coast and back

3. tea, cupcakes with generous frosting and sprinkles

4. feeling your hand on mine and knowing you do not want to own me or break me or buy me but to merely feel the warmth from it

i am purging people from my life. it feels good. struck with a sudden bolt of inspiration in the shower – am drawing again. did a new design… i’m entertaining visions of a t-shirt/canvas bag line with alice in wonderland designs. it’s nice to dream.

i think the point of this whole entry was to affirm that i’m drawing again… and to put off reading my political science notes. ah, well.

1. Theatre and drama test was mostly painless.

2. My SEA group mates are wonderful, well-organized people. Feel extremely productive with them.

3. Meeting more and more nice, friendly, genuine (as far as an initial vibe goes) people everyday.

4. Got tickets for the Vagina Monologues. Second row from the front. Booya! Going with two very awesome girls.

5. Bought a looooooong striped scarf from Zara – I can wear it with anything! Black and white, my favourite.

6. Ate very good sushi – $5 for 6 pieces. No cranky cmi waitresses or exorbitant service charge. Just chilling on a bench and eating takeout.

7. Ate a praline chocolate bar from M&S!

8. Dinner was teriyaki beef and butternut squash. (Separately cooked!) Dessert was OODLES of fresh fruit my dad brought back from the US – gooseberries, raspberries, blueberries and strawberries with whipped cream (handwhipped heavy cream!) and crushed M&S meringues. OH GOD BLISS. After the second mouthful I nearly cried tears of foodie joy.

All in all, a happy day <3 And a lot of this is related to simple and lovely food. HAHA.

i refuse to give into drama. and yet, i am so very, very exasperated with myself. it must be all those goddamn vampire romance/mystery novels i’ve been reading.

hot, sticky weather. lying on the wooden sofa (bench?) in my living room, feeling uncomfortably warm and yet too tired to move. imagining turning into dust motes. no breeze, slanted sunlight, unrelenting ennui.

contemplate what it would feel like to have someone beside you, in that bubble of painful, hyper-aware silence. i am struck with the terrible urge to reach over and touch an imaginary someone.

living room hot and still. just me and the house and 32 degree centigrade heat.

in that moment i felt terribly alone.

had to brush it off, get up and take a shower. weather driving everyone stir crazy.

[...]

For the glass of the years is brittle wherein we gaze for a span;
A little soul for a little bears up this corpse which is man.
So long I endure, no longer; and laugh not again, neither weep.
For there is no God found stronger than death; and death is a sleep.

- Hymn to Prosperpine, Algeron C. Swinburne

Am using the bpal perfume inspired by it. (So shallow, I know.)

I wish we could do stuff like this in class instead of… Ted Hughes. Sorry, so much hate for the man for driving Sylvia Plath, at least in part, to kill herself. Your writing’s not awesome enough for me to forgive you.

I crawl into bed at five in the evening and wake up for dinner at half past seven. My body clock’s all screwed up. Now I am half-awake and the thought of reading Swinburne when I have so many other texts screaming at me to be finished before lecture (tomorrow!) and to prepare for essay paper (by Monday!) that I feel horribly guilty. This is the drawback of being an arts student I guess. What does one read for leisure? Scientific journals? D: