I am never one to publicly vent my feelings, but today is a remarkable exception. In short, I have had one of those days which seems desperate to succeed in making your life as DIFFICULT as possible. I feel entitled to moan and complain.
I am currently stuck in between two different musical genres in either ear (emo techno + nice calm music = paradoxial cntradiction), balancing a number of tasks at one time and desperately trying to locate my mind, which I'm sure I left just here...
Trying to balance emotions that are wearing my neurones out and the more "I have to" practical things within life is causing something of major headache. I do and don't want to face the future whcih lies ahead. Part of me wants to curl into the fetal position and just sleep, which is something I crave 24/7, while the other is cheerfully reminding me that raspberries will be in season soon. And then there's "existent me" in the middle, wanting to throw things at people.
So yes, I have not had a good day and feel perfectly entitled to complain about it, because I feel like smypathy leeching.
I am trying to think positive, so I feel very much in debt to those who have put up with me and my continual 'angst cloud'. It's coming up to nearly 300 pageviews, which means I'll do something special for you people! But first, thanks are in order to my constant bringers of joy and confidence and utterly random pictures about bacon,
*aillesdors
*embraceimperfections
*uchihatsukiko
*narutard94
*midnight-moon9490
Thank you for existing. And yes, my moods do do this. "Grah, you must all die painfull deaths." to imense appreciation as to what great people I have around me.
Suddenly my bad day seems insignificant...

I am currently sitting in front of my laptop with my little brother's choice of music blazing in my ears, attempting to remember how to spell.
About two hours ago we returned from the Doctor Who expo in London! Firstly, for those of you out there who by some unnatural miracle may not have heard of Dr Who, it is a typically British sci fi programme, tracking the life of a time lord (humaniod, practically immortal being) and who ever happens to be travelling with him at the time. It started of as a seriously low budget tv series way back in the 60s of space age Britannia with various actors wrapped in bubble wrap dancing/running around claiming to be horrifying monsters of some higher authority, but is now a well developed, high budget series. And the producers probably just jump on the bubble wrap for fun. I mean, who doesn't? I keep some on me at all times in the case of a bout of depression. Who needs therapy when bubble wrap exists?!
Anyway the ultimate culmination of that story is that I went to my very first expo! Even if it was for my brother's birthday.
And I had a cookie. ^ ^
So now I am relatively happy. I am also being nerdy for the convenience of my brother and looking up Sonic the Hedgehog characters for him. It's suprisingly intricate. Even though it really bugs me that the main character is a blue hedgehog. Hedgehogs just aren't blue.

Yes, the great Batman has returned once more, but this time, he has taken a slight overdose of steroids. This has resulted in me working full out to try and conquer the sizeable amount of coursework that has appeard to spontaneously come into existence over the past few days. Though, being lazy and easily distracted, I cannot push myself to be unduly worried, I am just that. Unduly worried. I am almost positive it has come out of nowhere. My room is currently littered with the debris of frantic biology and chemistry revision, art coursework, food tech coursework, guitar tabs I should have learnt weeks ago and french books. Not to mention half completed drafts of poetry, lists of human rights, scraps of paper with kanji scribbled on them and diagrams of brains. Life seems to have arrived fifteen years late and introduced itself while throwing heavy objects in my general direction - totally regardless of the fact I was settling into a rut of sleeping most days and going into school others.
At the same time though, the challenge has woken me up a bit. Filled me with what you could call determination to succeed.
Or it could just be primal survival instinct. Because who really wants to meet Batman on steroids?

The freedom of release is a funny thing. The human reaction is, at first, to relish every minute's worth of freedom you have, galloping round town like Batman on steroids. Then, in some un explained and misunderstood chemistry, you desire nothing more than the quiet sanctuary of the cage from which you have just been released. There is and always will be that love and leave aspect of escapism. Going veggie, converting to something not quite yet Buddhist, seems undeniably seclusive and on the verge of anti social. But change can be productive not necessarily destructive. Just go with wherever the forces of mother fuckin nature throw at you. Yeah it scares you, terrifies you, rips out your beating heart out, sets fire to it and dances around the pire chanting, but such is the glamourous misconception of life. Yet still beatiful in its tragedy.