Saturday, June 9

You can guess what I drank for dinner. There were no labels in that last post. And, guess what? I'm meant to be out of the house in exactly two minutes, and my bag still isn't packed, and the maths is still awfully splayed out, exuding in my fright of the wretched exam.

Rearranging, and decluttering. Mentally as well.

Photos etc have been taken down, postcards put up and rearranged.


all these little dots show my brain cells working so very hard in the cerebrum to decide where, where in the tiny scrap of room which is my bit of our darling Earth, ought I to rearrange things? Oh yes, indeed.


Wine, risotto, long phonecalls, maths spread out over my bedroom floor, and cycling way too fast to French songs. The joy of relaxing days. (This is not true. It is a big, big, fat, squelching self-lie which I perpetrate most fantastically, but still, it is, a LIE.) After all the silly exams (who are they for, really? an 'investment' into our future, when our future is then paying off bills, and saving for retirement? what if we don't even reach the bloody retirement?), I am looking forward to summer. To reading the rest of the books which surround anyone attempting to cross my room, to enjoying the simple days again. I'm not trying to devalue work, I do enjoy it, but when it is so mundane and ' ' [the word is blanked. Can you guess? It's not too difficult, I don't think...) as GCSEs are (let's face it, everyone knows that even the best teacher has a hard time making them have a facade of even slight challenge or personal development...), then it is understandably difficult to make the self enthused.

Why is it that on MSN people feel a need to declare their 'hearting' someone else? Or winking at everyone on MSN? (Do they have no family contacts on msn? Don't call me old-fashioned...). Perhaps I should just delete it.

Monday, June 4

'living in the subjunctive'

According to a friend, it's from a film?

I like the phrase; the thought of parts of it, however, is extremely unappealing. How we crawl from living in the 'I would', 'I should' into the 'I could', 'I am doing what I could do', remains to shrink from my grasp. I suppose that personally, living in the thinking is often a lot easier than actually doing what you want to do. (Reminds me of a CA Duffy poem I read the other day. Can't remember the name, nor any specific lines, just the layout and the feeling it left me with. When I'm next at that person's house, I'll make a note...) People talk about it being because of others' reactions, and I don't doubt that image has a lot to do with it, but it also seems like in some way one part of ourself holds back a lot, the one with the expectations. That's why it's fun to go away (to the Beach? to Berlin? to watch The Waves?), to where no-one knows you, or be with people who have the most fluid expectations you can manage as a human in society.