03/01 Direct Link
I sat day dreaming in French today, pondering my social ineptitude, as I usually do. I was thinking about the way that I hate talking to people. I wish I could live my life in silence. I would never speak, I would just observe people, and swap warm smiles with people I liked. People would provide company, but we would not be required to share boring anecdotes in the lunch queue under the pretense of 'conversation'. I hate the lunch queue; it's the bane of my day. When I was sitting in French, I knew the lunch queue was coming soon, and it was depressing me.
03/02 Direct Link
You see, the lunch queue represents everything that I find so bloody stressful in school. There is nothing to distract me, and I am stuck there for up to half an hour if I want my food, which, by the way, I am usually desperate for, as I am starving. Meanwhile, I am often next to some little known acquaintance who either tries to start a conversation with me (which I invariably fuck up) or their expectant silence burns into me until I end up starting a conversation myself (which I invariably fuck up). 
03/03 Direct Link
The thing is, I never have anything to talk about. I still don't know how anyone starts a bloody conversation. I just don't care. I'm losing not only the will, but the ability. All my stories are terribly boring, because I become bored with them halfway through and fail to make them interesting, i just don't care. See? I feel so incoherent, I can't get through what I want to say, so I don't bother. I could float through life reading beautiful books, listening to beautiful music and travelling the world, walking through beautiful, unknown places. 
03/04 Direct Link
In fact, the problem is that I love the unknown too much. I become infatuated with complete strangers, purely for the fact I know nothing about them. I become bored with activities, and places, and things so quickly. I get bored too quickly. I long over things I can't have, them get depressed over their unattainability. Why are teenagers always so convinced there is something wrong with them? Right now I am so convinced there is something integrally wrong with me. I so much prefer my own company to the company of others. No, not others. There are many people I adore, and could spend all of time with, but they all come as part of a package, the package of humanity. And it's humanity I don't want.
03/05 Direct Link
I think I'm starting to get down to what I really want to say. (Oh God, the new Pains Of Being Pure at Heart album is so good. I could  listen to it forever.) The problem is The Blank Canvas, and my pointless desire of him. I do not know him, he is just a blank canvas I have projected all my ideals, my wishes in a person on to. Initially it was an infatuation, now I just want him as one wants an ornament. Just to put there on my shelf for the sake of it, to collect him like a possession - just to say I can. It would prove I can. 
03/06 Direct Link
I would happily ignore everyone I do not wish to interact with, but the problem starts when the first step towards friendship is accidentally taken. A really good drunken conversation, a really good facebook chat conversation (in The Blank Canvas' case), a really good random conversation. Then you must keep this friendship up. There is no turning back, it has started. I am beyond terrible at keeping the friendship up. A failed friendship is worse than nothing, because it hangs there in the air. I used to have this theory that if you acknowledged the person in the corridor within a few days of the event then all was fine, pressure was off. Well, it's not.
03/07 Direct Link
It's too difficult not to be sad about things. About anything. As soon as I am happy I am desperately scared of being sad again. I get these sort of depressive moments, when everything seems so damn hopeless, and sad. Just massive sadness. And so there is a lot of pressure on my happiness to continue, and sometimes this pressure gets too huge, and the happiness collapses under it, and the cycle starts again. This is irritating, as I know I'm the one causing it. Basically, I just need to relax. I'm going running tonight. I don't particularly want to go, I feel lazy. 
03/08 Direct Link
Time for a well-placed old entry -- December

The problem with me is that I can't see any point/meaning in the vast majority of things. I also refuse to waste my essentially short life on pointless activities. 

It goes as follows:

Is there any point talking to that slightly boring girl in the lunch queue if we're both going to die in 80 years anyway? 

Is there any point in making new friends if in a couple of months they will realise I am an essentially boring person anyway? (This has already happened in a large number of cases). 

Etc, etc.

This pointlessness never used to bother me. I blame philosophy.

(Note the presence of my lunch-queue hate) 
03/09 Direct Link
And the next day:

Happiness, and its pursuit, seemed somehow a theme to my day. 
I had a fairly depressing day.

I came to the conclusion that those playing the social game (because it is a bit of a game) were the least happy. Essentially because they all seem to hate each other, and their friendships seem fluid and flimsy. Then come those who aren't playing the game, but wish they were. The irony being that they'd be probably less happy playing it. The happiest people seem to be those completely removed from all of this, knowing that their friends like them for them, nothing else. I think.

03/10 Direct Link


a) Meet a tall, beautiful man and have a deep, meaningful conversation about music.

b) Get kidnapped by pirates, ending up a full time member.
c) Go on Coach Trip and meet Brendan.

d) Marry Simon Amstell/(if he remains a homosexual) become his doting best friend, with deep, meaningful conversations on the meaning of life.

e) Become a Buddhist nun (and chill with the monks).

f) Become an extremely funny and well-loved comedian, providing hilarity to the British public.

g) Get out more. 

03/11 Direct Link
still continued...

Although they all seem equally viable options, there are some issues. To retain the interest and meaning, a) would have to keep occurring every few months. If this happened however, a) would lose it's novelty, and I would likely become blasé. b) seems impossible nowadays, with the lack of traditional rum-drinking pirates on our seas. I don't fancy joining the Somalis. Unfortunately, I am unlikely to meet Simon Amstell and subsequently convince him into marriage/becoming my best friend (although I can tell we would get on remarkably well). As for f), there is frankly no hope.

03/12 Direct Link

For some reason, as long as I can't see anyone else, my mind is convinced I am alone. For this reason, I always end up singing in changing rooms and public toilets. I usually catch myself after a few seconds, but the other day it had been a full minute or two before I realised. I also realised the other day that I had been shouting for half an hour in my free period, and subsequently lowered my voice. I was very tired, and a little delirious. I often have problems adapting to volumes in rooms, so I end up shouting a lot.

03/13 Direct Link
a bit of December angst... 

I can't snap out of this mood. 

I HATE the expression FML. It's so over-dramatic and self-pitying. If the person really  wished to f their l, they'd be jumping off a bridge with a lump of concrete tied to their foot, not writing pitying facebook statuses/tumblr posts. It's also that the people who write it tend to have life pretty good. After all, they have a computer to write it on. The problem is, no matter how well off you are, how seemingly perfect your life is, there will always be periods when you feel shit. That's just how I feel. FMLish.

03/14 Direct Link
right back to November...

We just didn't really click. I remember getting on really well in the beginning, that feeling of hope of potential friendship. Then something went wrong in the day. That was it. I started talking very excitedly about hand wash to her. This was a bad move. She looked a little uncomfortable at this point, and I knew anything we once had was lost. She looked a bit put-off that I was so withdrawn for the rest of the day, but I didn't want to make any damage greater. Perhaps I was overly paranoid. I think I was.
03/15 Direct Link
another November...

Everything has changed in the sixth form, and the quiet, anti-boy girls have suddenly become rather popular. They were always the most beautiful people, sticking together as far away from the other sex as possible. They wore beautiful clothes, and walked around looking bookish but beautiful. I went to one of their barbecues once. It was very civilised. 

Suddenly they've started getting drunk, and getting off with the very pleased looking guys. Why not? They are awfully beautiful after all. Still, it's strange watching all this happen. Very, very strange indeed.

(Annie, take this as a warning, 6th form changes things. But often in a positive way) (:
03/16 Direct Link
I don't even know when this one was meant for... 

I reckon you can't waste a life. Every life adds a little bit to the rich tapestry of life. The great thing about the earth is the massive diversity of the lives that take place on it. To make a tapestry, you need a huge number of stitches. If the stitches were all identical, it’d be terribly boring. Each stitch interweaves with other stitches; this is what holds the tapestry together. Equally, the tapestry has to have an edge, where some stitches will interweave with less stitches. The stronger the bonds are between the stitches, the stronger the tapestry, right?

03/17 Direct Link
January... (but pretty similar to the start of this month)

I am always happier on my own.

The problem with other people is that they have their of personality, their own feelings. This rather gets in the way. I have my me to deal with, must I deal with you also? Then they start to speak! This is all lovely, but must I listen to YOU? What YOU did at the weekend? Let's face it, I'd much rather we wallowed in my own existential angst. Perhaps we could say nothing at all? 

This is why I want a cat. A cat would be my perfect companion.

03/18 Direct Link
It should be really, really easy to fill up 100 words a day, but it's not is it? I should just write 100 words about my day, and be done with it. The thing is, I just write the same old crap day in day out. Nothing too exciting happens to me, I drift through life with my sense of greyness and detachment, do things which I should regret but aren't emotionally involved enough to regret, and don't do things I should regret not doing. I just go through the motions, day in day out. There's another 100 words of pointless drivel. 
03/19 Direct Link
I try to explain everything all the time, over and over again until I want to gaffa-tape my own mouth up. Like at lunchtime, I kept starting every sentence with 'I'm happy, I am happy, but...' (people started getting pissed off, Ella told me to shut up). Maybe I'm not happy, and I'm trying really fucking hard to convince myself and others that I am. Mostly, I didn't want people to think I was whining/self-pitying. I also realised I'm way to obsessed with happiness. This is when I want to shut myself up. But I just can't shut up, so you'll have to deal with it for the rest of the batch. Hell, maybe you'll even understand.
03/20 Direct Link
We honestly spent the whole lunchtime whining. I love my friends to pieces. I hate people who say that, but it's so true.

I think I'm someone who is much happier being unhappy, miserable, dis-contented. I like to feel like an outsider. The best literature is always about outsiders, the best songs are always sad. If I'm dis-contented, it means I can identify with them. I like that feeling of wanting to cry at the uselessness of it all, of life. It feels more, honest? Maybe I feel more myself this way?

The person I'm describing sounds like an absolute twat.
03/21 Direct Link
I romanticise too much. I romanticise everything. I live in a complete dream world, honestly. I'm currently dreaming about going to Glasgow University and riding a push bike through the city in a thick, grey woolly scarf. I dream about interesting-looking boys with cute faces and nerdy ways. I dream about interesting-looking girls, and what we'd do if we were friends. I live by ideas, not reality. I listen to God Help the Girl and dream about Eve. I dream about duetting the songs with beautiful hipster students. I read the Celestial Cafe, and dream about being Stuart Murdoch's best friend. I read wonderful books, and dream about escaping into them. I dream about everything.
03/22 Direct Link
Ever since I saw the film 'Submarine', I've really wanted to go on an adventure. They go on lots of adventures. The thing is, there's no one I can go on adventures with. The idea behind my adventure, you see, is that I want to go on it with a stranger. I love strangers. I love the mystery, they could be anything. The thing is, their strangerness wares off quickly. I want to know everything about them, and then as I start to learn about them, they are not strangers anymore. And this makes me sad.
03/23 Direct Link
This evening has been one of the best evenings in a long time. I was let let out of maths just early enough to skip the crowd, and have been doing some productive drifting. I started with French homework, then a little English Literature, including a chapter of the Great Gatsby (and I realised I actually love English Lit, leaving me with a dilemma of what to drop next year so I take Classics with the year below) Meanwhile, I got through Noah and The Whale, multiple Belle and Seb albums, and a little Camera Obscura. Finishing, of course, with a little Celestial Café. I will be very upset when I finish it.  
03/24 Direct Link
I finally got through  my ever enlarging stack of Uni prospectuses. The shortlist (in order) is Glasgow, Leeds, Exeter, Reading. My main criteria is BIG CITY. St Andrews is in a town of 18,000, and although the Uni looks lovely, there is no way I am spending another four years in a small town. I want to go on endless city walks, discover quaint bookshops, go on lovely cycle rides, sit in half-empty cafés, sit is completely full cafés, go to tiny artsy cinemas, go to theatres, etc etc. Thus, the campus must be NEAR TOWN. Oh,  and they must do Philosophy and Classics. Obviously. 
03/25 Direct Link
I don't know if anyone else gets this bored. I'm not bored in the way that little children get bored, or teenagers on facebook get bored. It's like a feeling I'm missing out on a whole other level of interestingness to life, like there must be something more, even though I know there isn't. When I get these bored patches it seems like there is no way out and I am doomed to a boring existence for the rest of eternity. I don't know, maybe I should join a church. I asked my philosophy teacher today whether it was okay to be a Christian who didn't believe in God. He said he reckoned that was what the Archbishop of Canterbury was doing. 
03/26 Direct Link
The tap drips slowly, pathetically. She leans back, watching it, letting the soapy ocean envelope her, the porcelain cold under jer shrivelled fingertips. She carefully lowers herself into the water until the tip of her nose is completely submerged, the soap stinging her tired eyes. The world is muffled, distant from her; the hum of the washing machine,echoed voices from the fllat above. The midday traffic rushes past the bathroom window, open just far enough to fill the tiny room with the icy January air. The flat was so much emptier since the children left.
03/27 Direct Link
The grey January day starts to slip away. Reality loosens it's suffocating grip. She just lies, motionless. Through the water's glassy surface the familiar mop of grey hair is visible. He is standing there, towel in hand, the usual calm patience visible in his soft, aged features. Rising out of her warm abyss, she let's the soft cotton surround her, the familiar rise and fall of his chest mirroring the quiet flutter of her heart.
03/28 Direct Link
I literally don't have the time.
03/29 Direct Link
My stupid Philosophy teacher let us out 10 minutes early, so I went up to the common room, but knew no one there. So I went into the lunch queue, mainly for something to do, got my sandwich, realised I had no one to sit with. Instead of sitting alone, I went over to a group of complete strangers. Thought it would be a great idea to ask 'Can I sit with you?'. The identical long-brunette-hair-and-foundation girls looked a little afraid. So I sat and ate my messy sandwich staring at my feet for around seven minutes until a friend sat down, and we had a slightly awkward conversation until my best friend found me and I ran off as fast as possible. It was a supremely awkward and uncomfortable 10 minutes, that rather affected my day.
03/30 Direct Link
I literally don't have the time, honestly.
03/31 Direct Link
I literally don't have the time, honestly.