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sometimes it hurts

2004-06-03


so, here i am again. i've been back since...well, monday but i couldn't be bothered to write anything in here. actually, i couldn't be bothered to do much at all. i got my usual post-london-depression (which should be mistaken as post-gig-depression which is something completely different). but it is getting better. on monday on the way back, i really thought this was finally killing me. it's never been that bad. i wanted to scratch and bite and kick people to try and make them let me go back. there was nothing worse than going back and absolutely nothing could cheer me up. but of course, i had to pretend to be ok because annette doesn't know that side of me. i guess no one does because i always keep it to myself. i never really let things like that out unless i'm locked up in my room. so i guess if someone asked her, she wouldn't be able to tell i was *that* upset. she'd probably just say i was a little quiet or something.
but now at least i can go out again without having to fight back tears because i hate the place so much. which was the case on tuesday. i went to the mall because i needed a new wallet after spilling fruit juice over my old one. and i really just went and bought one and then went home again. it was horrible. not even spending money could cheer me up which has never happened before.
the current problem is that random things make me want to cry. i just went to the loo and on the way back came across my the count slippers. the thing is...i have another pair of slippers which are dog-shaped and my mum gave those to me last christmas. but only a month later i bought the one of the count. i just had to think about mean i am for not wearing the one my mum bought and how much it saddens me that she doesn't know me enough to buy ones of the count or hello kitty or whatever. and it also made me think about how many people could actually buy or make something for me that really suits me because they know me. there aren't too many, i suppose. i stopped at maja. there are probably some more but they'd also have to care enough and be up to date with what i like and all and there really aren't many.
which doesn't mean i want people to give me gifts now. it was just a theoretical question i asked myself. too bad i'll never be able to answer it, though.

so...uhm...london. what could i tell you? we didn'd do anything special or exciting that i could write about. we were just...there. though it probably didn't mean the same to annette. i doubt she even understands what it all means to me. i never told her, either. where's the point? everybody has a reason for liking one place and for everyone it seems like they're reasons are the only right ones and all the others don't even know what it means to really be in love with a place. i know i hate people saying they want to live in london. it's stupid but to me it is MY place. i could try, but i could never make myself accept other people's wish to live there. i just couldn't. i have very few things that are precious to me and my love for london is one of them so anyone else saying something similar just annoys me.
and it also annoyed the fuck out of me to talk to alex after coming back. he's a guy i met on a german forum the other day. he's alright but we have nothing in common and he doesn't know me at all. also, he's the kind of person that would never get me in a million years because we live in completely different worlds. but it's fine for an occasional talk. i just ignore him when i'm not in the mood. but on tuesday (and actually also before that because he sent me txt's) he really pissed me off. he kept asking why i went to london and what i wanted to do there and how boring it was and how stupid i was for spending money on going there. i just told him that he should shut the fuck up because after all i didn't ask him to go with me. that's what i mean. people won't get it. you tell them that you go there because it means something to you and they still make fun of you. so why bother?
i know i'm 21 and i should spend my money on cheap flights to mallorca or ibiza to get and stay pissed for 2 weeks and end up having as many meaningless flirts and fucks as possible but that kind of lifestyle would make me commit suicide before the first week was over.

so...it's westlife tomorrow and die �rzte on friday. then it's harry potter on sunday and back to work on monday. and there's nothing after that which scares me already. nothing planned, no tickets on the shelf. nothing to look forward to. i'll be making small highlights for myself again like...going home earlier, going to the mall, blabla. just to make it through the day. how depressing.


stabbing westward - sometimes it hurts



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