At 17 years old and 10 months the last place i'd expect to truely find myself is in someone else. I can honestly say i've never been so sure of anything, but its almost like a continual pulse of just being so certain of how i feel about life right now that i've never been more secure.
Being home is like having a gunshot wound, life is seeping out of me onto the floor like a liquid i just want to sieve back in. I long to leave again but no longer to get away from the paparazzi existance that is the 'hardcore scene'. I realised by just not giving a shit they disappear. I'll relish in gossip because i'm honestly beyond caring. I just want to feel as happy as i did the past two weeks, i was complete. I feel almost out-of-character typing this as normally misanthropy wafts around me like a bad smell. But i know whole-heartedly (and i no longer feel pathetic about it) what i want.
The plane journey home today was slow torture. I realise that air hostesses actually have the job of care-home nurses while on flight. All us passengers sit like vegetated pensioners while we eat mushy food in silence, are brought pillows and blankets and are poured glasses of water. I didn't sleep a single bit. I watched pocahontas and chaos theory and upon doing so have recognised the importance and success in compiling lists to make life easier, less 'chaotic'.
Here is my list for tomorrow.
1)go to the job center
2)pay £30 into the bank (to cover going 'heavy' on my suitcase weight)
3)buy a 'trash can' for my room (haha)
4)buy toothpaste, shampoo, conditioner and makeup wipes
5)wear black.
i'm in superficial mourning, and counting down the days already.
i love some of my friends with all my heart.
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