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Sia’s Breathe Me is currently my soundtrack and it is 4:59am. Sweet.

… and breathe..

edit: photos now shown with a black border (the normal colour is a pale grey) are available as prints. simply click on the image to be taken to the print shop.

Last night we lay on the damp, freshly cut grass, our heads tilted towards the sky. We looked up at the blanket of twinkling constellations, and some described the moon as it should look in a perfect children’s fairy tale. We sat out until late listening to Emiliana Torrini in the background, on a stunning summer’s evening.

Another day, another drag queen.

Last night was mainly unimpressive, mostly due to the actions of someone that I thought would not act in such a self-absorbed manner. When I first started university, like most of the new-comers, I was thrust into a situation whereby I knew absolutely nobody. It was a fresh scene, and we all fought to make friends so as to not become the loner that we all feared we could be known as. At this point Rob had severed ties with most of his friends - not through my own request - and I was basically his sole link with having a social life. I didn’t particularly mind that he was meeting my new friends. In fact, I revelled in the kindness and effort I could make in order to introduce him to them, and create a degree of comfort in him feeling welcome to the people that I would be spending time with.

It is obvious that now, since Rob has begun to make friends, he has little intention of making me feel welcome amongst those that he chooses to spend time with. It’s not a problem in the sense that I crave someone to be around - as it was in his case - because I have enough friends to keep me busy and have a social network that I can immerse myself in at any point. Those that I know are always around and forever asking me to spend time with them. It would seem now that he has no intention of introducing me to people he knows (it’s almost as if they’re just his friends, I’m not worthy, yeahyeah), and when I am in the company of him and his friends, I exist as a vague entity that is briefly acknowledged before forgotten. Last night, I’m sure he didn’t even see me leave.

But still, drag queens always come to the rescue and make me giggle all this mind-fuck away.

Tonight is dominos pizza and Texas Chainsaw Massacre night. Yahoo, baby. I saw it ages ago with Jen and vaguely recall the both of us almost soiling the immaculate cinema seats. Ooops.

Last night I had the wonderful pleasure of being in the company of Miss Rupa, queen of the Colls Road parties (where I actually met Brighton Boy for the first time). We drank wine, cocktails, moved on to cans of cider and then she forced pernod upon me, unexpectedly ending up crashing back at mine. We even saw a strange gig, too.

Feeling puzzled? Be your own fridge, that’s what I always say.

I walked down to the calm sea, the froth lapping upon the stones beneath my feet. The sun was hanging right above me, heat radiating through my jacket and my eyes covered by my corduroy hat. The sounds of children playing in the sea drifted by me and I stood transfixed at the rhythm of the water. The never-ending cycle of waves, the crashing of the water on the rocks. I imagined myself floating away in a tidal wave of emotion, leaving nothing behind but ephemeral footsteps on a beach made for everyone but me.

I finished my counselling sessions with Julia. On Monday I have my second appointment with the CBT man (he sounds like a version of Robocop when I call him that, but really he’s a cognitive behavioural therapist.) I’m hoping all goes well.

I’m hiding.