You would think, that having next to nothing happen in my life would mean I have more time to write this blog. Im never short of fuck ups in my own head and surely I have ample disingenuous character flaws to be able to share them with the world. However life doesnt work that way.
The less fulfilled I am emotionally, the lazier I get physically.
In fact, I dont even know what Im doing on here right now - this isnt Facebook?
Yes, my life has been taken up with the humdrum existence that is the Newsfeed chain of my 500+ acquaintances. I live vicariously through them. I hear of births, deaths, engagements through them. Since the advent of facebook, my phone usage has gone down by atleast 100-200 dollars each month, I kid you not.
Deep down inside though, I can't helo but wonder - is this all there is to life?
Am I a glass half empty girl, or am I a glass half full kind of person? I think I'm a glass half empty person. There is no benefit to walking around thinking everything is happy and gay and unicorns shit rainbows while leprechauns give you hand jobs. It just sets yourself up for that hollow feeling of disappointment when the leprechaun fucks off with your wallet due to your distraction by stepping in unicorn shit.
People who think life is a glass half empty maybe are not very good with letting go. They pine after love lost, they hanker for the life less ordinary, they bear grudges of origins unknown. Thats why when I drink, I brace myself for the last gulp, slam it down and then immediately look round for another drink. But does this make me pessimistic? No, I think it just makes me able to keep up with the big boys.
If your glass is half full all the time then why not get a smaller glass?
Good luck in life and love,
Honey xxx
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
The Letter Ex.
Dear Aquarius,
How do you fall in love? Do you trip? Do you stumble and soar off a precipice hoping to land on your feet? Or do you float gently to the ground, hair settling around you like a halo?
I fell. I fell with a thump so loud I thought my world had cracked apart. It was just the way I felt when I first saw your smile. When you sat next to me for the first time. When you held my hand.
Maybe my world did crack. And in typical you fashion, you've left me to fix it, alone.
I thought I was doing ok. I was no longer sleeping in your tshirt. I was no longer searching for your feet in bed. I was no longer prone to having my phone taken off me, lest I call you in a drunken crying heap.
But all it takes it one small factor. The most minute of complications, and suddenly I need to look at myself very hard in the mirror and say "You know what kid, we may be in a bit of trouble here."
The catalyst? An innocent conversation between myself and one of the people at your work place. Your workplace hires thousands of people, for fucks sake...why did the one I end up talking to know so much about you?
You've hurt your knee. You cant work at the moment. Why cant you look after yourself when Im not around? Its so frustrating.
The last time we were apart, your friends told me you were depressed and couldnt even get out of bed some days. When I went on holidays, you had to have an operation and were bed ridden for weeks. We broke up for a few weeks and you got into a fight. You left me at a festival and on the way back to her you nearly got into a fight. And now, you have injured yourself to the point where you cant even work.
The point I'm trying to make is that all of this stuff never happens when I'm around. So why have you left me. Why the fuck do you continue this stupid charade?
You are not the only one to be affected by our split. I want my life back, dammit. I want to be able to listen to songs without melancholy. Why should you be the little thought in my head that never goes away?
Im sleeping better now. All of those little things about bedtime that used to irritate you and enrage me are gone. I fall asleep easily. I did have to resort to hypnotherapy to reach this point, but hey, a miracle is a miracle no matter what way you look at it.
I have dreamless sleeps. When I do dream, its no longer of you. I think life has decided that its not fair for me to think about you all day and all night too. I'm moving on. I like other boys now. I kiss other boys now. Heck, I even sleep with other boys. Does that bother you? I hope that bothers you. I dont care if that bothers you. Really doesnt bother me.
I like to think that one day I will see you again. We will both be slightly taken aback, but strong enough to graciously acknowledge each other and then move on. On to our new lives. Well, on to my new life. You might still be stuck with her. But thats no longer any of my business.
So even though its taken me so long to say it - Thank you. Thank you for being so cruel and ambiguous with my heart. Its taking a long time to heal, but I finally have the want to let it heal. Even if its just plastered over with optimism and hope for the future.
I just hope no one sees the cracks.
Ever but never yours,
Lion.
How do you fall in love? Do you trip? Do you stumble and soar off a precipice hoping to land on your feet? Or do you float gently to the ground, hair settling around you like a halo?
I fell. I fell with a thump so loud I thought my world had cracked apart. It was just the way I felt when I first saw your smile. When you sat next to me for the first time. When you held my hand.
Maybe my world did crack. And in typical you fashion, you've left me to fix it, alone.
I thought I was doing ok. I was no longer sleeping in your tshirt. I was no longer searching for your feet in bed. I was no longer prone to having my phone taken off me, lest I call you in a drunken crying heap.
But all it takes it one small factor. The most minute of complications, and suddenly I need to look at myself very hard in the mirror and say "You know what kid, we may be in a bit of trouble here."
The catalyst? An innocent conversation between myself and one of the people at your work place. Your workplace hires thousands of people, for fucks sake...why did the one I end up talking to know so much about you?
You've hurt your knee. You cant work at the moment. Why cant you look after yourself when Im not around? Its so frustrating.
The last time we were apart, your friends told me you were depressed and couldnt even get out of bed some days. When I went on holidays, you had to have an operation and were bed ridden for weeks. We broke up for a few weeks and you got into a fight. You left me at a festival and on the way back to her you nearly got into a fight. And now, you have injured yourself to the point where you cant even work.
The point I'm trying to make is that all of this stuff never happens when I'm around. So why have you left me. Why the fuck do you continue this stupid charade?
You are not the only one to be affected by our split. I want my life back, dammit. I want to be able to listen to songs without melancholy. Why should you be the little thought in my head that never goes away?
Im sleeping better now. All of those little things about bedtime that used to irritate you and enrage me are gone. I fall asleep easily. I did have to resort to hypnotherapy to reach this point, but hey, a miracle is a miracle no matter what way you look at it.
I have dreamless sleeps. When I do dream, its no longer of you. I think life has decided that its not fair for me to think about you all day and all night too. I'm moving on. I like other boys now. I kiss other boys now. Heck, I even sleep with other boys. Does that bother you? I hope that bothers you. I dont care if that bothers you. Really doesnt bother me.
I like to think that one day I will see you again. We will both be slightly taken aback, but strong enough to graciously acknowledge each other and then move on. On to our new lives. Well, on to my new life. You might still be stuck with her. But thats no longer any of my business.
So even though its taken me so long to say it - Thank you. Thank you for being so cruel and ambiguous with my heart. Its taking a long time to heal, but I finally have the want to let it heal. Even if its just plastered over with optimism and hope for the future.
I just hope no one sees the cracks.
Ever but never yours,
Lion.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Overheard.
Boy A - How would you survive a Nazi Zombie attack? The only tools you have are a buffalo, and a clowns wig.
Boy B - I would wave the wig and amke the buffalo charge and attack the zombies.
Boy A - Thats very clever, I did not think of that.
Boy B - How would you do it?
Boy A - I would mate with the buffalo and build an army of babies, which would overpower the zombies.
Boy B - What if the buffalo was male?
Boy A - Thats ok, I'm not homophobic.
Boy B - I would wave the wig and amke the buffalo charge and attack the zombies.
Boy A - Thats very clever, I did not think of that.
Boy B - How would you do it?
Boy A - I would mate with the buffalo and build an army of babies, which would overpower the zombies.
Boy B - What if the buffalo was male?
Boy A - Thats ok, I'm not homophobic.
One more try.
I have to admit. I nearly gave up. I thought about closing off this blog and never bothering with it again. Whats the point? Does any one care?
The amount of time that people spend reading it doesn't even compare to the amount of time I have spent feeling guilty over it. Guilty that I cant even manage to keep up a poxy blog once or twice a week. Guilty that I couldn't manage to do something that was purely for me, as a way to vent. Guilty that my laziness was winning over my joy in writing. Guilty because...well, that's me. Little Miss Guilty Conscience.
Well. Here I am again. Don't feel so bloody special, my online dating has also stalled somewhat. I did end up meeting one of them, and he turned out to be the biggest asshole known to man. So I cant even be bothered to speak to any others. I've fulfilled my loser quotient for the month, thanks.
OK, let me delve a little deeper into that story. I quite liked the sound of this one, he was intelligent, polite, kind hearted and liked the same music as I did. He was perfect on paper. Well aren't they all bloody perfect on paper...
When I met him, he was nothing like what his picture showed. Mistake number one. Yes, he slightly resembled that smiling happy passport sized picture he had posted on the net, but what stood before me was a poor shadow of that image.
He was a lot shorter than I had imagined. Now that's no fault of his, but rather something to me that is non negotiable. I am small enough so to have someone almost as short as me is...well...unacceptable, frankly.
To be fair to him, I had been out for the whole night and rocked up to meet him for a coffee slightly worse for wear. However, in my defense, I know when I look like a train wreck, and this was not one of those times. I was holding up surprisingly well, considering I was still wearing a leather mini dress and vinyl heels from the previous nights festivities. All smartly covered with a trench coat, mind you. So if I looked like a hooker, at least I looked like a high class one.
When I told him of my previous nights engagements he expressed surprise and amazement that I could do so, and them immediately accused me of taking drugs. Now, as you know, dear reader, I am not averse to sprucing the night up with a bit of chemical fun. However to be judged by some idiot who I only just met without any sort of former proof was absolutely ridiculous.
The line of work that I do is not entirely held together from moral fibre. No, it does not involve anything from the sex industry. No, I am not an assassin or ninja or hit man. No, I am not a real estate agent. However I do work with gamblers, and the invention of lucrative manners of which to pry the cash from their sweaty clenched fists.
Now, this certain person who I was meeting was aware of this. We had spoken about it a few times previously. However he chose the first time that we would meet to express exactly what he thought about it. The vitriol that spewed forth was alarming to say the least. It put me in that much of a position where I had to yell back, telling him to shut up, Shut Up SHUT UP. I had to shout, he was so far up on his moral high horse, he would not have heard me otherwise...
He then said that he didn't have time for a coffee and would it be OK if we did this another time. I immediately took offense to this and started yelling about how there was no way he was brushing me off, I would be the one brushing him off. I then stormed off, hyperventilating.
All joking aside, can you honestly imagine? What the hell happened? As far as I can see, I did nothing wrong. I had been myself completely, in our previous correspondence. He then uses it to take me to task the first time we meet? What kind of lunatics are in this world?
So here I announce that my foray into the world of online dating has come to an end. It was a short lived and hopefully short remembered one. You may think I've taken artistic license with this, in order to make you laugh, or to shock you. I assure you, dear reader, I have not.
The amount of time that people spend reading it doesn't even compare to the amount of time I have spent feeling guilty over it. Guilty that I cant even manage to keep up a poxy blog once or twice a week. Guilty that I couldn't manage to do something that was purely for me, as a way to vent. Guilty that my laziness was winning over my joy in writing. Guilty because...well, that's me. Little Miss Guilty Conscience.
Well. Here I am again. Don't feel so bloody special, my online dating has also stalled somewhat. I did end up meeting one of them, and he turned out to be the biggest asshole known to man. So I cant even be bothered to speak to any others. I've fulfilled my loser quotient for the month, thanks.
OK, let me delve a little deeper into that story. I quite liked the sound of this one, he was intelligent, polite, kind hearted and liked the same music as I did. He was perfect on paper. Well aren't they all bloody perfect on paper...
When I met him, he was nothing like what his picture showed. Mistake number one. Yes, he slightly resembled that smiling happy passport sized picture he had posted on the net, but what stood before me was a poor shadow of that image.
He was a lot shorter than I had imagined. Now that's no fault of his, but rather something to me that is non negotiable. I am small enough so to have someone almost as short as me is...well...unacceptable, frankly.
To be fair to him, I had been out for the whole night and rocked up to meet him for a coffee slightly worse for wear. However, in my defense, I know when I look like a train wreck, and this was not one of those times. I was holding up surprisingly well, considering I was still wearing a leather mini dress and vinyl heels from the previous nights festivities. All smartly covered with a trench coat, mind you. So if I looked like a hooker, at least I looked like a high class one.
When I told him of my previous nights engagements he expressed surprise and amazement that I could do so, and them immediately accused me of taking drugs. Now, as you know, dear reader, I am not averse to sprucing the night up with a bit of chemical fun. However to be judged by some idiot who I only just met without any sort of former proof was absolutely ridiculous.
The line of work that I do is not entirely held together from moral fibre. No, it does not involve anything from the sex industry. No, I am not an assassin or ninja or hit man. No, I am not a real estate agent. However I do work with gamblers, and the invention of lucrative manners of which to pry the cash from their sweaty clenched fists.
Now, this certain person who I was meeting was aware of this. We had spoken about it a few times previously. However he chose the first time that we would meet to express exactly what he thought about it. The vitriol that spewed forth was alarming to say the least. It put me in that much of a position where I had to yell back, telling him to shut up, Shut Up SHUT UP. I had to shout, he was so far up on his moral high horse, he would not have heard me otherwise...
He then said that he didn't have time for a coffee and would it be OK if we did this another time. I immediately took offense to this and started yelling about how there was no way he was brushing me off, I would be the one brushing him off. I then stormed off, hyperventilating.
All joking aside, can you honestly imagine? What the hell happened? As far as I can see, I did nothing wrong. I had been myself completely, in our previous correspondence. He then uses it to take me to task the first time we meet? What kind of lunatics are in this world?
So here I announce that my foray into the world of online dating has come to an end. It was a short lived and hopefully short remembered one. You may think I've taken artistic license with this, in order to make you laugh, or to shock you. I assure you, dear reader, I have not.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Online or Onliar?
Just checked my online dating inbox. Have found a rather endearing message....
"Your insane...
And thats probably why I'm totally knocked out by your profile. If what you say is true, then I think I've found what I'm looking for on this crappy site.
Oh and your gorgeous too but with an attitude like that looks are secondary lol
Have a great day, keep smiling and I hope I hear back from you.
Ciao."
How to respond? Whether or not to respond? Can I be superficial and judge him by his blurry profile picture, or do I look past that and actually see if I can have a coherent conversation with someone?
Why am I caring so much about the opinion of someone I've never met?
Good luck in life and love,
Honey xxx
"Your insane...
And thats probably why I'm totally knocked out by your profile. If what you say is true, then I think I've found what I'm looking for on this crappy site.
Oh and your gorgeous too but with an attitude like that looks are secondary lol
Have a great day, keep smiling and I hope I hear back from you.
Ciao."
How to respond? Whether or not to respond? Can I be superficial and judge him by his blurry profile picture, or do I look past that and actually see if I can have a coherent conversation with someone?
Why am I caring so much about the opinion of someone I've never met?
Good luck in life and love,
Honey xxx
Monday, March 22, 2010
Is that a tap tap on the door - or merely online dating profiles being read?
Forgive me. I know I've been lax.
Even if it is just for myself, I've been horribly neglectful of my own resolution. This blog was for me and me only and I cannot even keep this up for more than a poxy few months.
I have been busy though, on the pretense of having things to write about.
March has been the month of Online Dating. Yes, I have managed to quash my feelings of distate for this long enough to become a member of a site which promises friendship, dating and long term...more if you click on one of their sister sites.
With the handle of littlemisshoney, I have put myself out into cyberspace. My profile is a bumbling mess of thoughts, likes and dislikes, irrational behaviour and you know what? The men have lapped it up. Quite a lot of the emails from the men on this site have commented on how funny and refreshing my profile is.
"An island in a sea of bull shit."
"How awesome...i really enjoyed reading your profile...sweet...
How funny are you...hope you are having a good weekend..."
"while i was reading your profile I was wondering if you had taken a breath while writing this.
You sound like a lot of fun , i would love to get to know you and see what happens."
Of course, you have the standard emails who simply say Hi. Thats utterly boring to me, so quite often I will delete without reading into it.
There is one person who is quite persistent. He keeps asking if I can chat to him on MSN or if we can have a coffee soon. I have straight out told him that I dont want to meet anyone or speak to them over any other means than this site. He responded that it was fair enough I felt that way, but it was because I was simply stunning and he wanted to show me that his intentions were real.
I havent responded as yet.
Online dating seems to be a bit of an elimination process. I honestly do not mean to sound as though I am bragging but in the first 3 days of joining this site, my inbox was absolutely flooded with mails from others on the site. Granted 95% of those were rubbish, which I have now deleted. I have begun a regular correspondence with three in particular, who both seem lovely and genuine. Of course, the picture helps...
I understand some people can be reluctant to load pictures of themselves on the internet. I dont really have that problem - I mean just look at Facebook...I got three photos from my facebook page and loaded them onto this site. It appears these photos are winners with lots of lads.
As one person very sweetly put it, "May I just say you are a shining example of genetic perfection!".
I told him "That is extraordinarily kind of you to say and I will tuck that away for a rainy day."
His response? "I wish it was raining now."
So after a week of being a member of this site, my verdict is this. Online dating is exactly like getting out there in the pubs and clubs, except with the propensity for extra loads of bull shit to be passed your way. The men on here can still be just as pushy in writing, rather than hassling you to dance in person. The men on here ask you to go for a drink with absolutely no introduction or even a hello, much like they will come and sit next to you or make their way into your dance circle. The men on here can ignore you completely, just like they do in real life. The men on here can hide or disguise their flaws by photoshopping or clever use of words, instead of hoping your alcohol intake will blur the edges.
But, as real life also has a want to do - some of the men on here have the potential to quite suprise you.
Good luck in life and love,
Honey xx
Even if it is just for myself, I've been horribly neglectful of my own resolution. This blog was for me and me only and I cannot even keep this up for more than a poxy few months.
I have been busy though, on the pretense of having things to write about.
March has been the month of Online Dating. Yes, I have managed to quash my feelings of distate for this long enough to become a member of a site which promises friendship, dating and long term...more if you click on one of their sister sites.
With the handle of littlemisshoney, I have put myself out into cyberspace. My profile is a bumbling mess of thoughts, likes and dislikes, irrational behaviour and you know what? The men have lapped it up. Quite a lot of the emails from the men on this site have commented on how funny and refreshing my profile is.
"An island in a sea of bull shit."
"How awesome...i really enjoyed reading your profile...sweet...
How funny are you...hope you are having a good weekend..."
"while i was reading your profile I was wondering if you had taken a breath while writing this.
You sound like a lot of fun , i would love to get to know you and see what happens."
Of course, you have the standard emails who simply say Hi. Thats utterly boring to me, so quite often I will delete without reading into it.
There is one person who is quite persistent. He keeps asking if I can chat to him on MSN or if we can have a coffee soon. I have straight out told him that I dont want to meet anyone or speak to them over any other means than this site. He responded that it was fair enough I felt that way, but it was because I was simply stunning and he wanted to show me that his intentions were real.
I havent responded as yet.
Online dating seems to be a bit of an elimination process. I honestly do not mean to sound as though I am bragging but in the first 3 days of joining this site, my inbox was absolutely flooded with mails from others on the site. Granted 95% of those were rubbish, which I have now deleted. I have begun a regular correspondence with three in particular, who both seem lovely and genuine. Of course, the picture helps...
I understand some people can be reluctant to load pictures of themselves on the internet. I dont really have that problem - I mean just look at Facebook...I got three photos from my facebook page and loaded them onto this site. It appears these photos are winners with lots of lads.
As one person very sweetly put it, "May I just say you are a shining example of genetic perfection!".
I told him "That is extraordinarily kind of you to say and I will tuck that away for a rainy day."
His response? "I wish it was raining now."
So after a week of being a member of this site, my verdict is this. Online dating is exactly like getting out there in the pubs and clubs, except with the propensity for extra loads of bull shit to be passed your way. The men on here can still be just as pushy in writing, rather than hassling you to dance in person. The men on here ask you to go for a drink with absolutely no introduction or even a hello, much like they will come and sit next to you or make their way into your dance circle. The men on here can ignore you completely, just like they do in real life. The men on here can hide or disguise their flaws by photoshopping or clever use of words, instead of hoping your alcohol intake will blur the edges.
But, as real life also has a want to do - some of the men on here have the potential to quite suprise you.
Good luck in life and love,
Honey xx
Monday, March 8, 2010
The Winter of My Discontent.
A warning to all readers who happen to go further than this - I am in quite a dark mood and as is my wont on this blog, I shall vent in a manner that is fitting to my mood.
Whats brought all of this on? A mixture of things. A cesspit of disappointment, coupled with failure of hopes and expectations. A sprinkling of nostalgia. A dash of lust and jealousy. A huge serving of inactivity. Oh, and we mustnt forget - a liberal splashing of drugs and alcohol, which gives it that smooth flavour of coming down.
Hungry yet?
Somebody close to me let me down this weekend. Because of her chronic inability to be on time for anything, I missed something I had been on pins and needles for since forever, a band that I adore and had been looking forward to for such a long time. It shows a huge lack of respect to me, I think - she knew how long I had waited for this. I had even bought her ticket for her and not only did she turn up 45 minutes later than she promised, she made a big deal about how she had rushed as quickly as she could, running there to meet me etc. I would have just accepted a simple genuine apology and gotten over it soon enough. Not this stupid bullshit concoction about how she tried so hard to get there on time. Thats what really makes me see black.
I'm very tired of my life at the moment. There is no need to ask me if I'm content with my life at the moment. I think the answer lies in my shuffling feet, my slumping shoulders, my overwhelming exhaustion evident on my face.
I take things to stay awake now. Not Class A drugs obviously, but things like Red Bulls, No-Doz, Berocca - anything that promises to give me a burst of energy. I drink two or three coffees daily now, when I only used to drink one a month. Nothing helps shake off this blanket of tiredness I always feel is draped around my shoulders.
I take things to go to sleep now. It seems odd, cruel almost, considering the effort I concert to stay awake. Alas, the only way at present that I am able to fall asleep is on a fluffy cloud of sleeping tablets.
It cant be healthy. It really cant. I fear that I am staring into the jaws of the black dog of depression. But I cant be depressed. Nobody who is depressed ever thinks that they are depressed. If I think I'm depressed, I cant be. I'm just feeling a little sorry for myself.
Maybe I'm just lonely. Or tired. Or nostalgic. Maybe I'm just missing that someone. Or disappointed by my friends. Or scared to be lonely. So I hang on to my friends.
I need to be by myself for a while. I want to go away and read a book. I want to drink a bottle of wine without feeling the need to get roaring drunk and hitting on random men. I want to walk by myself without worrying about what other people think of me. I place so much emphasis on other peoples opinions that I've forgotten that my own opinions should be the most important to me. I want to think out loud. I want to laugh out loud. I don't want to have bullshit chit chat with someone and talk about the latest model of mobile phone. I've just lost my phone, so there is no need to switch it off - I just wont replace it.
How far inside your own mind can you retreat before someone notices you are gone? I'm worried that I've been absent from enjoying life for so so so long, but nobody has even seen.
But, if this is you - please don't come for me if this is all that I have to return to.
Good luck in life and love,
Honey xx
Whats brought all of this on? A mixture of things. A cesspit of disappointment, coupled with failure of hopes and expectations. A sprinkling of nostalgia. A dash of lust and jealousy. A huge serving of inactivity. Oh, and we mustnt forget - a liberal splashing of drugs and alcohol, which gives it that smooth flavour of coming down.
Hungry yet?
Somebody close to me let me down this weekend. Because of her chronic inability to be on time for anything, I missed something I had been on pins and needles for since forever, a band that I adore and had been looking forward to for such a long time. It shows a huge lack of respect to me, I think - she knew how long I had waited for this. I had even bought her ticket for her and not only did she turn up 45 minutes later than she promised, she made a big deal about how she had rushed as quickly as she could, running there to meet me etc. I would have just accepted a simple genuine apology and gotten over it soon enough. Not this stupid bullshit concoction about how she tried so hard to get there on time. Thats what really makes me see black.
I'm very tired of my life at the moment. There is no need to ask me if I'm content with my life at the moment. I think the answer lies in my shuffling feet, my slumping shoulders, my overwhelming exhaustion evident on my face.
I take things to stay awake now. Not Class A drugs obviously, but things like Red Bulls, No-Doz, Berocca - anything that promises to give me a burst of energy. I drink two or three coffees daily now, when I only used to drink one a month. Nothing helps shake off this blanket of tiredness I always feel is draped around my shoulders.
I take things to go to sleep now. It seems odd, cruel almost, considering the effort I concert to stay awake. Alas, the only way at present that I am able to fall asleep is on a fluffy cloud of sleeping tablets.
It cant be healthy. It really cant. I fear that I am staring into the jaws of the black dog of depression. But I cant be depressed. Nobody who is depressed ever thinks that they are depressed. If I think I'm depressed, I cant be. I'm just feeling a little sorry for myself.
Maybe I'm just lonely. Or tired. Or nostalgic. Maybe I'm just missing that someone. Or disappointed by my friends. Or scared to be lonely. So I hang on to my friends.
I need to be by myself for a while. I want to go away and read a book. I want to drink a bottle of wine without feeling the need to get roaring drunk and hitting on random men. I want to walk by myself without worrying about what other people think of me. I place so much emphasis on other peoples opinions that I've forgotten that my own opinions should be the most important to me. I want to think out loud. I want to laugh out loud. I don't want to have bullshit chit chat with someone and talk about the latest model of mobile phone. I've just lost my phone, so there is no need to switch it off - I just wont replace it.
How far inside your own mind can you retreat before someone notices you are gone? I'm worried that I've been absent from enjoying life for so so so long, but nobody has even seen.
But, if this is you - please don't come for me if this is all that I have to return to.
Good luck in life and love,
Honey xx
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