G comes into the room, tells me he hates me, hopes i die. same as any other day. he tells me often enough, i expect it. she tells me often enough too, tells me she wants me out, phoned social services, phoned the police, wishing me dead, wishes i hadn’t been born. i do that often enough with out her help. i can feel hes starting to as well now. he doesn’t talk to me any more. i miss my old dad. i want him to care and not shout. i can count five girls who i bet are starting to wish they didn’t know me at least. she just had another go over the eye drops. pushed me over the edge. crying as i type this.
i want to leave so much. just be somebody different. get a train, preferably in the early hours, i like it in the morning when it’s quiet and you can smell the freshness of the air and no one else is awake and you feel so much brighter as all these sleeping people are wasting their time and you’re not, you’re up, you’re seizing the moment, you’re seeing the day for what it truely is; a whole new start, a chance to change, begin again, do whatever you want to do, be whoever you want to be and no one is disturbing your change, the birds haven’t started singing, the roads aren’t busy and you can properly hear yourself think. it’s at this time i would get the train to london, taking only my camera, some money and possibly my phone dependng on whether or not i ever want to be found again, and start anew. start a new life. new name. new personality. no one remembering the girl that used to be. the girls who’s hair was always a little too bright and said a little too much. maybe i would dye it back to brown again. put on a bit of weight, maybe lose a lot more. stop wearing high shoes or red pumps. stop liking indie music and start liking more classical or jazz. stop eating meat, start liking beans. start hanging around in the right social groups. become one of those people that you always see in chic fairtrade coffee houses discussing news or world politics. stop caring about art, about music. start caring about fashion or looks or stocks and shares. stop burning pasta and stop having a thing for beards. stop dancing in circles and start learning ballroom. start caring about clubs and being seen and stop lounging about in t-shirts. stop talking without thinking and start lying to people. maybe then i’ll stand a chance, maybe then i’ll be happy. it will still be me deep down, maybe so far down that it requires a lot of searching but i guess i’ll still be in there, laughing to myself about crude jokes or what people say on the phone to each other, i’ll still be there just covered up with lies about who i am, who i used to be, who i’m going to be. but i don’t really want to be there. i don’t want to be me anymore.
i upset A tonight, that hurts, she means so much to me, she’s upset i’m feeling down. i can’t change. i feel crap. i know i’m just going to bring her down. we became best friends in one evening, drunk we told each other everything about our mothers, shared the same, cried and hugged. now shes okay with her mother, i don’t begrudge that for a second, i just wish i had some one to connect to.
the house smells like garlic and i don’t like it.
