A hazy gauze of delirium

So on Friday night an (extremely gay) French guy lifted up my dress to show my stomach, declared 'meh... zees eez not fat' and passed me a kettle.  Okay.  Then I was sat on top of a washing machine talking about Mount Everest.  Mid conversation he stopped me; 

"What eez is wrong with you?"

He told me he was a psychology third year, could tell I had been hurt before and was still hurt.  Who hurt me?  Why?  How?  Why was I only oestensably happy?  I didn't really have an answer; copious amounts of vin rouge, a few lines of coke and a few tokes are generally not conductive to healthy bonding sessions.  I had no answer.  I haven't been hurt, not in any real way. 

Not in any way special anyway.  Everyone's hurt at some point right?  He psychoanalysed me, I was on top of a washing machine silent, watching a cat eat birthday cake from the floor and someone still high from methylone.  Sort of a pathetic oxymoron of a scene.  Then he told me all about his Coke problems, how he was a former addict and was afraid of touching drugs anymore and fought a constant battle.  Not enough to stop him coking up though I noticed.  Meh.  I hate being forced to give advice.

It was an interesting Friday night anyway.  My birthday is on Tuesday.

Turning 20.  Okay; time to grow up?  Right?  Right?

Right.  What am I doing for my birthday?  Someone asked me that today.  I'm like... nothing.  Nothing.  Absolutely nothing.

 I don't care.  I don't want to celebrate this birthday.  Why?  Why not really.  Probably expect me to throw something, but that involves energy I cba to expend.  

I hope that doesn't come across as weird.  I just can't be bothered to summon the energy to care about this birthday, or think of it as anything other then cumbersome.  You probably think that's the wrong adjective.  It's not.

Do I come across as anti-social?  AHAHA  I hope not.  I'm really not, or at least not normally.

But sometimes  when I sit on the tube I feel disengaged, as though I'm not really there.  There could be a bomb and I wouldn't notice, I'm totally engaged in my head.  A hazy gauze of delirium.

I'm sorry I've become so boring.

I have to wake up in  3 hours.

non, je ne regrette rien

Last Friday as a teenager.

Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiiiiiiiiigh.

Got drunk. really drunk. 

Met up with a Science teacher (?) and his mate; a guy we met in Stockholm.

In King's Cross.

Hmm. Drink drunk drank.

With my friends at a soundclash she's DJing.

We leave.

People leave.

Am with my friend, a Brazilian and a guy from Iceland who all study film with Mary.

Oh wait why am I in Elephant and Castle now. Oh I'm at a house party. Oh Im drunk. Oh where's Mary and what are you on?

French girl singing "JE NE REGRETTE RIEN" in her kitchen karaoke style.  Swaying with half a bottle of red wine, wearing a ripped t-shirt and, well, yeah that's it.

Her last name is: Rousseau.  "Eet eez like being called Smeeth".

Everyone's on Coke and Methylone (the new mdma dahhhling). Like Lol.

Everyone is really artsy and from LCC. Mad tings.

Am like 

I'm so innocent.

Kk. Eat birthday cake at 5AM. Have a deep and intense conversation with a French guy "Why are you so sad? Why are you so sad?"  Tells me his life problems.

Am a bit stoned.

French girl is gurning like mad. Everyone is off their face, I'm pretty sober.

Okay. In Elephant. It's raining, best wait for morning tube. Friend is in room with Brazilian from her class.

7AM. Okay, sleep? Sleeping on floor with French guy, French girl is running around, some people outside are tweaked.

8AM. Brazilian leaves. Leave his coat and one shoe. How and why? 

10AM. French girl is asleep. Wakes up, gets dressed and leaves by 10.20, trying to make us go to Brighton.

ON Y VA, A QUELLE HEURE PARTIR LE TRAIN POUR BRIGHTON?

LET'S GO TO BRIGHTON.

Uh, no. She leaves for Brighton.

We stay. Crash. Hmm.

12AM; we should probably head home now.

Get all day breakfast (SO GOOD )

Get home at 3PM. Die.

A Mon Seul Désir

Tradition required medieval tapestries eschew perfection reserved for God, so an intentional error was woven into each tapestry. There is divine precedent for imperfect pictures.

Whenever great tapestries were made in the past, the creator had to drop a stitch.  Why?  Because to be perfect was sacrilege; blashphemous even.  Only the Almighty Lord could be perfect, and although in God perfection can be found, to attempt perfection would be a direct insult to his authority.

The tapestry above is called 'A Mon Seul Désir', or in English; 'to my soul desire'. It is a part of a series of tapestries which represent the five senses; taste, touch, smell, hearing, sight. I suppose the creator (or perhaps more pertinently, the sponsor Jean La Viste), felt love was an equally important aspect of living. Taste, touch, smell, hearing, sight and love. This is an old 15th century French tapestry, and a bit irrelevant but worth a mention.

As I said above; many great tapestries have a stictch dropped; perfection is sacrilege, a power ascribing only the God. My point? Well, as you can ascertain; nothing is perfect. Nothing. Not our artwork, our governments, our Politics, our states, anything at all. And certainly not people. People are not perfect. You are not perfect and neither am I. We are not perfect.

Sometimes we (okay, I) get obsessed about something or someone; we see them as perfect. Amazing, so talented, so funny, so amusing, so smart, so good looking, etc etc etc etc... he's perfect. Nah, he's not. He's really not. No one is. They never are. Your boyfriend/girlfriend, lover, wife, SO, whoever... they're not perfect. Not at all, even remotely. You should really get

that.

Okay, actually the second person prose is a ruse.  This is more of a note to self, then anything of any use to anyone else.

I think I overcompensate in others; I see so little good in myself I tend to see too much in others.  I'm such a lame human being, so pointless.  Anyone else not like me must surely be a positive.  I overcompensate.

A while back I said I didn't like deleting texts, and I always kept at least one text from everyone whose ever sent me one, like a scrapbook.  Like a digital memory I suppose.

I just freed up 20% of my inbox deleting a bunch of old texts from one person, didn't even keep one or read any of them.

Just deleted.  Finite.  It's like closing a chapter.

Let's look at this cute video:

I have a suspicion btw. Wanna hear it?

Yeah you do.

Shuuuuuuuuuush.

I got my neck pierced

"It's all slightly, just a little fucking bit weird, Holly."

Thanks ma.

You would too

I've been really liking my appearance lately.  I definitely look better with eyeliner.  Is that vain?  I hope not.  I can't help it.  :\

Priorities

I searched my name today, and found an old blog of mine.  From when I was around 15, all I can say is LOL.  What a little chav I was, and goddd... don't priorities change? (Last post; 32 days untill my sixteenth.  LOL.  Now it's 24 days untill my 20th)

Some highlights include:

Hey, I'm a newbie to this, so I will totally update ma piccys when I get the chance, till then, big kiss to all my friends, soz bout the no piccy ustina but i aint got one lol.  salam xxx

Heyhey everyone, got all my piccys sorted, so now I just gotta worry bout my exams .

Don't mean to gloat, but A* in my french orals WOO!!!  Just a shame bout the terrible geography I just sat lol

OMG!!!  All the bombs in London are soooooo bad.  There's no buses or trains, I am in shock!!!  Why do people do this?  It's so terrible, I mean, some God.  It's all just really bad, I mean, WHY????!!

Summa holz, here I come ;)

Heyhey, and what a BEAUTIFUL day it is - NOT!!!

I just found out my definate holiday plans.  I had planned to go to Israel with my dad, but now he's going on his own, leaving me to go to my great aunts wedding renewal, who's pushing 100.  Get to meet with the whole hillbilly all white clan, can't wait!!!  Ahem, neways, get to spend a month in france with my mum, which aint so bad, neways, gotta go practise ma french, gotta whole month there , Au revoir!!!

Long time, no speak

Like I said, long time no speak!!!  It's bin ages since I've updated this, nothin much has bin happenin, 6th form's a nightmare, exam's a bitch, I could go on but I won't, salaam xxx

 PS, 32 days 'till my sweet 16th!!!

Holly... how much have you drunk tonight?

BLEURBGJ JFBHJ FJJFEJB JJB BJBE

Have you missed me?

Guess what.

In every way, shape or form, this has been one of the worst weeks of my life.

Everything is a reminder of what I don't want to be reminded of.

Mum just came in my room, asked me if I wanted to get a coffee at lunch time.

No, I'd rather just die here tbh.

Seriously, how can my life be so persistently awful?

Awful.  Don't pretend you care.