blog #14

right. okay. blog number 12 happened. and its hard. its hard to come to terms with death. and its hard to deal with the people most badly affected by it in an appropriate and sympathetic way. especially when you dont think they really want to be helped. so im hiding down the cellar where i can get the internet on my trusty laptop. my laptop is the only internet thing i can use while knowing that no-one else can get to my data stored on it. also, ive not made the fact that i write this public information, and the email i use for it was created for the blog, so im sneaky.

i enjoy writing, and i write a diary quite regularly. i have several. and i guess this counts as one. but theyre all for different stuff. i write this while thinking that someone might read it one day.
which is a weird thought.
but it makes it more difficult to say the things that i want to: like that i talked to my ex yesterday and came away feeling really pissed off at his insistence to match the negative stuff in my life with worse stuff thats happening/happened to him. or like i had the most gay dream ever that involved the cast of the l word, tegan and sara, my girlfriend.. it was the best dream ever though. i accidentally went through this door into the room where every door i went through led me to the filming of some program. i ended up in this corridor where at one end, i could hear gun shots through three doors, where they were filming war films. and i walked up the corridor and found 3 rooms.. the contents of the first is unrepeatable, the second had shane and molly from the l word in, doing rude things. and the third had tegan and sara in, doing their sound check in. i poked my head through the door and tegan beckoned me in and put her arm round my shoulder and asked my where i thought we were. bristol. and we had a nice chat.
i woke up very happy.

but now, i have to go and entertain my little brother. he's going to bed soon. my mum has just demanded. i have to keep out the way of her cos she's in a funny mood where everything is an argument to her, or an attempt at one. and i hate that. im not an angry person.. much!