volcanic's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- banana bread: universal panacea Ungh. I'm a bit out of sorts today. I texted my best friend this morning- the one who's been in Spain since July- and said: ungh. missin u lots 2day, feelin lost& invisible. somehow independnce has crossd t'line 2 isolation 2day. Poor me, eh? needless to say, she said all the right things in her reply. I used to marvel at how she would painstakingly compose her text messages, how much precision would go into those 160 characters, never quite fathoming what the point of all that energy was for. Now, of course, i understand totally. Not quite sure what the problem is. I should be looking forward to lovahboy coming here tomorrow, and yet somehow I can't quite muster up the requisite amounts of enthusiasm. I like him lots, I enjoy his company, I will be sore yet satisfied when he goes. And yet... what it is, I think, is that we don't know each other terribly well yet. We know lots about each other, we don't know each other. Does that make sense? Although what we have is very intimate and honest and raw and open and passionate, it's not the same as knowing someone for years, knowing them inside-out, and them knowing you enough to still like you and appreciate you and still want you when you're ugly from crying too much, feeling too fat, too emotional, less-than-goddess-perfect or maybe just a little bit vulnerable and needy. Come on, one of you psychology students out there, tell me more about these bloody stupid defences we put up, the ones that are erected unconsciously, even when we're trying as hard as we can to be self-aware and honest and alarmingly frank. I read a good metaphor about mine on another one of those hokey astrology sites I love. It basically said that as an Aries, being ruled by warlike mars and all that gubbins, I had a big suit of armour that i very rarely took off. Much as I hotly deny this, it is, of course, largely true. I think at the moment I have the kind of armour that resists just about any onslaught that you might care to imagine. It's keeping me safe whilst i explore this - till largely strange- new place where I now live. Unfortunately, I fear that at some point soon, it's going to hinder my communication with George, because i am very, very wary about exposing myself too much. Just how scared I am has shocked me this week. It's bizarre. And he's coming up here tomorrow and I'm feeling not-very-pretty, and I know it shouldn't matter, because he wants me for my beautiful mind and my scintillating line in conversation and all the bloody rest of it. We met at work, where I was, I immodestly admit, a bit of a shining star. Lively, funny, witty, popular and a tiny bit naughtier than everybody else. Now he comes up here- to bloody Wales for god's sake- and just gets me in my sodding caravan. No drama, no stage lights, no performance, no bit-part actors feeling me the cues for my glittering punchlines. I feel like a disappointment. Nothing he's said has made me think that this is what he thinks, I'm rational enough to see that. I guess, really, maybe it's me who's feeling disappointed right now. I'm in limbo right now, waiting for my course to start, waiting to find another platform where i can shimmer and dazzle. But right now, I'm a bit of a boring blob. And I feel ugly. It's crap, isn't it? STILL- all is NOT lost: in an attempt to shake my ennui and my disillusionment and my lack of creativity, I have made a wonderful banana bread, which as I type is filling my mobile home with the luscious smell of... well, banana bread, I suppose. I will take fatboy to the beach after school, even though it's not sunny at all today- because really, what's the point of living at the seaside otherwise- and I will let the smell of the sea, and the smell of banana bread stimulate all those olfactory centres which connect to the brainparts where the happy neurones are, and all will be well with the world. Or something. Hopefully the former... 2:16 p.m. - 19.09.02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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