Someday, tomorrow will be April 31st………

Hey, Joe, what do you know?

So I’ve been home for a week now, in case anyone wonders. I’ve barely turned the laptop on, this is the third time I’m doing it, but only because I had to do some work. Because next year is my final for my degree, we need to do a dissertation, and there’s an outline that needs to be submitted now, explaining what the dissertation would be about. Other than that, I didn’t really care about anything online. Oh, and I wasn’t really in the mood – you remember my lower back problem one month ago? Well, turns out I have discopathy on my back or something like that that causes the pain. So Joe is on pills again, surprise, surprise. It’s more fun imagining you’re suffering from something than having a real condition. But it’s not that serious, and I hope the pain would go away, so I can enjoy some of my break. I’ve literally been doing nothing for the past week, except playing around with the puppy. The puppy, who decided my fingers are his new chewing toy, and biting my pants – the only way he could move around. He’s currently being potty trained, and winning the battle so far, with a prize being a few slaps on his fluffy bottom. And as of last night, I have 4 new born kittens at home, so I can easily open a pet zoo. At least Benji will have some buddies to play with when they’re old enough.
So, yeah, that’s it. That’s all from the animal chronicles and the medicated Joe for now. No scribbles, I’ve been lazy for that too. And the next post will probably not be anytime soon, unless somehow I come up with something. Bye!

You’re waiting for a train…

Sooooo, Joe had a (not so) lovely trip to Manchester the other night to pick her cousin from the airport. Isn’t it funny how when you’re in a terrible rush, the trains are never on time, and you miss all your connections? The train from Aber was mostly on time, but half an hour later it stopped in the middle of nowhere for 40 min without any explanation. After the 30th minute, when everyone got extremely nervous, they finally announced that we’re waiting for another train to pass and clear the rails. Oh, gee, thanks for not caring if people need to catch another train and their tickets become worthless as a result! Anyway, we continued with our journey, but as you can imagine I did miss all the other trains. The good thing about the rail system here is that there are trains every hour or so. The bad thing for Joe, however, was when I arrived at Wilmslow, where I was supposed to catch the train to the airport, and missed it by just 2 minutes. TWO minutes! Why can’t THIS train get a little late? So the guy at the station told me there would be a BUS in an hour to the airport, but I would probably need a new ticket for that. Ok, fine, I got the ticket, and went outside to find the bus stop – at 10pm, outside, in the freaking cold, alone. The most positive thought that went through my mind while I was waiting was that I would most likely get mugged, and the most negative – that I would be raped and killed. After twenty minutes of despair and freezing to death, I said “Fuck it” and went to one of the taxis to ask how much it would cost to the airport. 12 pounds sounded extremely pleasant at that point, so I got right in and arrived at Terminal 3 in less than 10 min. When I picked my cousin, we had around 4 hours to wait for a bus to Manchester Piccadily and get a train from there. She, however, wasn’t feeling like staying still for so much time, so got on another bus to Manchester around 1pm. That way I can proudly (or not) say I was out in Manchester at 2 in the morning. And if we don’t count the 24-hour sleep deprivation, the journey back to Aber went as smoothly as I could have never imagined. That’s a freaking conspiracy – your life might depend on a train getting somewhere on time, and then chances are everything will screw up. But when you’re not in a particular hurry, everything runs on schedule. Riddle me this!
Apart from being unnecessarily dramatic about my rail journeys, everything else seems okay. I got two reports due this Monday, wrote one last night (because my biological clock was so fucked up after not sleeping properly for 24 hours, that I was in a mood to study!), plus my cousin went out with my housemates to see how British people get wasted on a Friday night, so I had some peace and quiet. 8 days left till I get home for the vacation, and I can barely wait! The good thing is that after the reports are done, I’ll have one week to relax and recycle my nerves.
As for scribbles, I haven’t been very productive lately, I only wrote one verse, so maybe I’ll try and come up with something after I’m done with the other stuff… but I don’t guarantee it!

Medicate

So Joe had a lovely day at the emergency today! And no, I’m sorry to say to all the ill-wishers that I’m not dying. Apparently it’s nothing serious, but that doesn’t stop it from hurting so damn much. The thing is I’ve been having some pains in the lower part of my back for a few weeks. It wasn’t that serious, because it was on and off, most days it didn’t hurt at all. I got a hot water bottle and pain relief gel and stuff like that and it was okay for a bit. Yesterday though it got worse, I couldn’t bend forward, no matter how I was standing or lying down, it still hurt. This morning I woke up with no pain, feeling relieved and all that. I was waaaay ahead of myself apparently. 5 minutes later just a simple bending to wash my face caused an excruciating pain, I couldn’t move, it became constant, so I thought I’d go and get an appointment at the hospital. I went to my lectures, but I only managed to get through one of them and then headed straight for the emergency at the nearest hospital. They did some tests, some of which I do not want to talk about or even remember ever again, and said that I’m fine and it’s probably something muscular. So they prescribed me some lovely painkillers and some other pills and said if the pain continues, I should see my GP. So it was a whole day of going back and forth to do this and that, with that pain, just sitting there and making me wanna strangle someone. Other than that it’s been swell, with all the essays and reports I need to finally get a start on. But don’t you worry, I’ll go through that too…. hopefully.

One year ago… and nothing’s changed at all….

Right. Well let me say that the crisis has been averted for now, and hopefully there will be no posts like the previous one in the near future. Everything I’ve been bottling up is out now, so I have room for more. I can’t say I’m okay, but I’m holding up, or at least trying. There isn’t anything much to say, academic work is going somewhat as usual, personally I’m a mess as usual. No new scribbles yet either. The only thing that’s keeping my spirit up is that this time next month I’ll (hopefully) be home. I’m trying to come into terms with the fact that I’ll be here the whole summer, so I can at least enjoy some spring time.

…I got a word from someone I thought was left in the past. Someone I had started to let go. And once again I don’t know what to do. Being the fucking Libra that I am, I’m standing at a crossroad, not knowing which way to choose. Shit happens. :]

 

“There is no mountain that I can’t climb,
for you I’d swim through the waters of time.
As you go your way, and I go mine,
a light will shine, and it will be me.”

“If I could separate me from myself, I’d stay away from me.”

Hello, dear die-ary. Ready for another piece of depressing confessions? No? Okay, here goes.
I really hate having bad days (well, duuh, bitch, who likes having them?). And by bad days, I mean those that start bad from the morning and continue until 12:25… sorry, 12:26am. And I know that when you look at it from another angle, there are worse things that could happen to you. But those days happen to be the ones when you don’t have the energy to not give a fuck and go with the flow. And today was one of those days. What started it off was checking my exam results this morning. I didn’t have the courage to check them myself, I asked one of my friends to do it for me. As you have probably guessed, I failed. No, not all of them, good heavens, if it was all of them, I would be in the hospital right now. I failed the politics one – Warfare after Waterloo. Usually when I imagine bad things happening, somehow I reverse the process. I guess that can’t work all the time. I just knew I’m gonna fail it big time, like I did with the essay for it. And I thought the other alternative, European politics, would be boring. At least I took that module last year, I had some ground for it, I would have done better at it (enough hindsighting, smartass, you failed, it’s over). Yes, it is over, what I’m left with is a whole summer stuck in Aber and a fucking resit at the end of August. Geez, they couldn’t do it in the beginning, so I can enjoy at least one month of my vacation. Sorry, Benji, it seems you and I aren’t gonna see each other very often. It is possible to have the resit in Bulgaria, at the embassy, but I’m sure my parents will have a word to say about that. Or against that, for that matter. They did try to calm me down, that it’s not a big deal, that they have failed exams a number of times. My friends here failed theirs as well and don’t really give a shit. And I know it’s not a big deal, that I’m probably reacting this way, because it happens to me for the first time, that I have to stay here anyway to look for a job… But every time something that keeps taking me back home leaves my life, something else comes in its place. And it sounds ridiculous – to want to go home for some silly dog, or because you still feel like a kid, or because you want to see your friends, those who really understood you, or because you miss terribly the ones you could talk to for hours without getting bored but never gonna speak to ever again… or because you know you’re never gonna find anyone to replace them. And all this because I failed one stupid exam…
Anyway, that’s what made my entire day feel like shit. I did have some moments of clarity, but on the inside it was still the same. Today was the Bulgarian Liberation Day, our national holiday. Some 3rd year students organised a party in one of the restaurants in town for the Bulgarians. After I saw my results in the morning, I didn’t wanna go at all, they barely convinced me anyway. But everyone told me to go, to clear my mind and stop thinking about the results, and have fun. Well, guess what, I didn’t have fun. Five minutes after we got in, I already wanted to go home. Tonight was just another slap in my face. Our music, our behaviour, everything there reminded me why I went to study abroad, why I couldn’t stand living in my country. But it also showed me something else – that I don’t fit in there either. When you’re in another country, having people from your home place around is supposed to make it easier. It made me feel like an alien. I didn’t fit at home, I don’t fit here. At one point, I was all alone at the table, and I don’t blame anybody for that. Everyone would choose to have fun than to stay with the sad weirdo. That’s my problem – I want someone who would choose to stay with me over alcohol and vulgar fun, and I know that person doesn’t exist. I’m one knife to the heart away to finally admitting something to myself – that I’m not special, I’m not unique, I’m not here for a reason, and people leave me the second they find something better (Damn it, Disney, that’s not what you said it would be!!!).
I know I sound a lot emo, I know nobody fit in when they were teenagers, but, hey – I’m not a fucking teenager anymore, and I still don’t fit in anywhere. Sometimes the dark thoughts crawl back into my mind and refuse to leave. You know – the suicidal ones. I go to the beach often and all the time I just want to throw myself off the bridge and be done with it. I never wanted to be this way. It just happened I was sad all my life. For no reason at all, most of the time. No wonder people would leave me. I’m too weak for this world, and the world doesn’t need another whiny brat still living with hopes, dreams and fairytales. How can you be 20 years old and already broken by everything? I haven’t  even lived a bad life, I didn’t grow up in poverty, I didn’t have my parents divorce, I didn’t lose them, I didn’t have accidents or diseases to ruin me. I just lived the wrong life, got in the wrong place at the wrong time. A grief for something that never happened – that’s gotta be it. I hope there’s another dimension where I got everything right, I really do. Sometimes I actually wish for the Apocalypse to happen and erase all that shit around me. That way I can finally stop worrying about the future. Ironic, isn’t it?

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

Ookay, I need to make a few corrections connected with the previous post. First, I am the proud owner of an adorable little baby pekingese! And since it’s a BOY, I think the name Roxanne will not suit him very well. So we settled for Benjamin instead. All my efforts and pleas to name him Nemo were in vain, because my mom didn’t like how it sounds. So Benji was the only one we both agreed upon. And he’s really cuuuute! I can’t stand the fact that everyone at home would have already seen him and hugged him before me. :/ Damn you, university!!!
The second good news is that I fixed the Live Writer, which is comfortable news for no one but me, but I thought I’d share that anyway, just in case someone has lost their sleep over it (sarcasm intended).
That’s it? I wrote an entire post just for these two things? Nothing else to say? Oh, yeah, I forgot, I’ve no social life to talk about. xD In terms of new scribbles, I have some stuff on the way, but there’s no guarantee they’ll be done soon. So, I wish all the puppies around the world a wonderful evening/morning/afternoon, depending on their geographical position. Ta-ta!