I've spent most of tonight on the phone to my mum, dad and gran :) It's made me feel really happy after a horrible and painful day. My mum is at my gran's house and my dad's in a hotel in Aberdeen. He's flying to Norway tomorrow morning. My football team have realised they still know how to score :)

3. Painting

I live in a box of paints.

It's fascinating that how you live your life depends on the place you were born. I know that's a bit of a stupid thing to say because it's so obvious, but thinking about it convinces me again and again how diverse this world is. I was watching Rick Stein earlier today. Despite being a little bit creepy he's a really passionate and interesting man. Anyway, he was in Bali and was describing the Balinese lifestyle. Obviously any attempt to summarise anything about any country or group of people is completely generalised and simplified, but he told how the people there do not worry. They just don't. They see positives in everything. They accept foreigners and are excited to introduce their culture to them. They never move from the community they were born in. They have a respect for each other and a positivity which is almost alien to this side of the planet. We are so demanding and self obsessed, but maybe that isn't such a bad thing. For me life is about surrounding yourself with the things that make you happy. In another life I would possibly have made a modest living from grinding coffee beans or peppercorns, but in this life I spend my afternoons listening to Pink Floyd, drinking sugar free fizz and writing uninteresting pieces of rubbish.

2. Painting

1. Painting.

I bought a new bookcase from work. I paid £8 for it, but on the website the RRP is £87. I'm going to paint it myself using tester pots of all my favourite colours. I'm also going to post photos here of its progress.

Such a lovely tree.

:)

The first issue of the zine is finally done. Actually, we have one piece and three dots to add, but that's it. Twenty pages of things and stuff written and drawn by people in places. I'm glad it has finally happened. The process of putting it together has taught me a lot about the people around me and the different ways people care and the ways they choose to use their ambition. In all honesty I have felt a bit disappointed in the lack of... well, just the lack. Lack describes it well. But that doesn't matter because we have still managed to put something together. I am proud of it. Now to figure out double-sided photocopying.

Edwin Morgan

It isn't in the mirror
It isn't on the page
It's a red hearted vibration
Pushing through the walls
Of dark imagination
Finding no equation
There's a Red Road rage,
But it's not road rage
It's asylum seekers engulfed by a grudge
Scottish friction
Scottish fiction


It isn't in the castles,
It isn't in the mist
It's a calling of the waters
As they break to show
The new black death
With reactors aglow
Do you think your security
Can keep you in purity
You can not shake us off above or below
Scottish friction
Scottish fiction

I have felt this happening for a little while, but I'm trying not to let it get hold of me. It all happened about five years ago and I'm still irresponsible sometimes. I feel close to messing up and I just want someone to help me.

Being in someone's house without the someone is a bit strange. I drove to Kat's about an hour ago because I could hear noises in my room. I've been living alone for a week or so and I think it's getting to me a bit. But it's not too bad because I have Kat's keys so I can stay here even though she's away. I think I'm going to stay up for a while and read stuff on newspaper websites because I don't bother to read them when I'm online using my phone.

I can't wait to live in somewhere I'm proud of. One year :)

I feel horrible. I feel like I am horrible.

I managed to book some more Tori tickets today without giving myself a headache or breaking my phone. That's all seven gigs booked now. I can relax.

Now that I'v finished uni I have been reading and writing more. Chris and I have decided to work on putting the zine together seeing as the last attempt just faded out and never went anywhere. Hopefully this time will be different.

Lately, I seem to be writing about childhood. I noticed when I was writing my dissertation that Margaret Atwood does this a lot in her work, so maybe I'm stealing ideas from her. But maybe because I'm young it's the only period of my life I've had time to look back and think about. I mean, I'm 21 soon but I still don't feel like I can look back to my teenage self and criticise her because I probably still feel some of the same things and I'm still prepared to admit how difficult a time I had. The most prominent part of those years doesn't need to be written about. Well, maybe it does. I have tried but nobody can feel what I feel. Does that matter? Anyway, right now I'm writing about the time I hallucinated because of the giant M&M I had in my room.

After today (hopefully) I won't have to worry about Tori Amos tickets because I will have bought all the ones I need. I am one gig away from being relieved; if only they would go on sale somewhere in the awful world of the internet.

Anyway, at work last night I listened to the Manic Street Preachers live from London. On the phone. As it happened. It gave me butterflies because James Dean Bradfield sounded so bloody good. Apparently they had strings on some of the songs, which I can only imagine would sound wonderful. The quality down the phone was dreadful and it took a little while to make out each song, but I really really enjoyed hearing it. It was happening, just like I was happening. I was standing outside in the B&Q car park watching the water and the sky get darker.

So now I've finished university and I have nothing to do for the summer. I couldn't be happier even though I'm looking forward to starting my MA. It will be nice to have time to think, read and write the things I want to think, read and write.

There is something about me that I really do not like.

I like desk photos. I won't have this desk for much longer. That mess happened on my floor a few months ago.

Anyway, I've been meaning to write here for a while but I haven't found the time. Although, I don't really have the time right now. I'm listening to the new Tori and MSP albums side by side and drinking a soya milkshake. I'm dying to spend an hour or two reading Alice Oswald and Anne Sexton, but I need to finish writing about three women and their poems.

I can't write anything worth reading.
Oh, but I realised the other day that I have an opinion. Hurrah.

I don't even think I can write about Tori here. I've felt something since Friday that I can't quite understand, but it feels amazing.

The new Manic Street Preachers album is definitely one of my favourite albums of all time. Thank you Mr Richey James Edwards.


Also, I got 10 choc ices for just over £1.

Tori Amos at the Savoy tomorrow will also be one of the best experiences of my life. I know it. I wish you were coming with me.