Written in Dejection, near Naples

The two Beechams have just kicked it and I have a rare burst of energy! I am awake, to the extent that the blurriness is gone and I don't fall when I stand anymore. I have managed to colour in my nail. I don't know how. And now that I've looked I see I've written 3 pages of a story subconsciously, unconsciously? I guess that will be fun to read. Where did all the time go? It was ten o'clock just a minute ago. Oh, yes I went to the bakery and bought a doughnut. I don't care about the size of my ass, I only lose weight when I'm not paying attention anyway. My mum popped in to tell me I looked awful before leaving again.

God, I do look awful. Like some sort of zombie. Rwarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

There's orange juice in the freezer. Orange juice is good for colds. But I don't want a carton lolly. All I can think about is Dylan Moran and his red wine lolly. God, I love him. I want a scruffy Irish man. But I dunno if I can afford the year out to Ireland. Gallway is hella pretty though, it could be worth the debt. Love: potentially worth bankruptcy.

My hair is a bird's nest of disaster. Maybe I should just grow it. Be a girl. Smile demurely and act modestly. Or get it cut and stick a hat on?

Holy crap my right hand is inktastic. This is new ink too because I totally washed this morning. Stupid pen. Why can't you be more like that pen I got in Rome. Best fucking pen. And I wasted it on Bismarck. Nobody cares about Bismarck. Man I miss that class. I never got to pull Agnew up for making up a pirate just to win the argument. Nobody tells me I must have gotten my facts from Johnny Depp and dismisses me like some lovesick little girl.

I was reading Shelley. Well, more like browsing Shelley, too tired for actual reading. Then I came across the heading Stanzas written in dejection, near Naples and spent ages thinking dejection doesn't sound very Italian. You'd think I would have cottoned on when just a few poems before there was "Invocation to Misery". Miserable lot these poets were. Oh, how I love them. Except Wordsworth. Later for him. Full of lies. All these lines composed at such and such a place at such and such a time, only he got them wrong. And I wandered lonely as a cloud? With your sister who was also there.

Man, how good is it to be able to breathe? I had the worst sleep ever. Did I already say that? I forget what I've blogged already and what I just thought about. That's the problem I have with internet journals. Too much like talking to myself and I do that far, far too much already.

Oh, ok, the buzz from my pills is fading into a soft woomph now. Either that or I'm just way too tired. But! with any luck I'll be fine by tomorrow morning. I've psyched myself up for seeing people and I'll be damned if I have to postpone it. Girls are so much work to be around. They turn on you like that. I figure I'll take my rum, trundle up the road and if I lack the energy even fuelled by alcohol then I'll just go to sleep. She has like the most comfy bed ever. Or close to the most comfy bed, because it's a bit on the small side.

I think I might watch The Melancholy of Suzumiya Haruhi again on youtube. It's like the most ridiculous anime I've ever seen and I've seen Tokyo Mew Mew or Mew Mew Power or whatever the hell it is. Creepy, that's what it is. Anyway Haruhi. It makes no sense and it takes the piss out of so many other shows and they dress up as bunny girls for no reason. Look at her judge you. Juuuuuuuudge.