i hate being ill...and i hate it even more when my mummy says "it's too early to go to bed" GRRRRR
it's scary when news suddenly gets closer to home...and i seriously shake too much...
acting on impulse makes a bad day end slightly better...and i apparently need to go on picnics...
icing sugar...the cure for everything...f
i swear i get my life back half on track and then someone goes and fucks it up again...bloody hell...i will hurt anyone who happens to mention Tim ever again...
why do people try so hard to get me back to my usual vaguely happy state only for someone else to do something that sends me falling through the floor...it takes so many people to make me smile, but only one to make me cry...how does this work?
it's so hard to admit it's not easy...
apparently i'm "much nicer" when not caffienated...
it's got to the point where i blink and i'm asleep...so so exhausted...
in other news...my childhood dream, apart from being a lollipop lady, was to be a Tellytubby...l
"Only the dead shed no tears. They are beyond weeping." -Euripides
all day i've been kept going by one thought of getting to see my friend tonight...30 minutes before we're due to meet she cancels...alri
ok tis maybe not a caffiene withdrawal headache...tis too bad for that and coffee isn't solving it...someone please remove my head? or just get me out of here from my parents...?
me: please don't put butter in my roll
mother: sorry i've already done it
me: but i don't like it
mother: well the majority of the general public like it and so do i
me: i'm not the general public (to self: i'm your bloody daughter!)
arghhhhhhhhhhh
eurgh...coffee withdrawal headaches...*m
The Invitation
"It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.
It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain.
I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, 'Yes.'
It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children.
It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments."
this actually makes me smile loads...but makes me cry too
i don't do well with emergencies...
it's days like today that just make everything more bearable for a few hours =)
today is a day for missing people...
"please don't wash my mug up, i'm going to have more coffee"
"don't you mean my mug?"
"it was the mug that i happened to get to first in the cupboard"
"well it's still my mug"
"well you use my muugs sometimes"
"that's different"
how on earth is that different? argh...stupid mother...
i wish there would be someone here to hug me when everything goes wrong...
you know you're screwed when you get:
"Rebecca
Please come and see me. I think we need to chat. I am around
early tomorrow morning.
Best wishes"
from your year head...
oh dearie
my parents are giving each other the silent treatment over a coke bottle...blood
it's nice to catch up with those you haven't seen in a while...=)