And the anchorperson on TV goes blah dee blah dee blah

I'm in the writing swing. I cannot stop writing and it's mostly crap but ideas are jumping off my fingers and getting washed up in the middle of my actual work. I wrote a short story in amongst my notes on the rise of Anti-semitism in the Middle Ages, three pages into my History essay I have two attempts to write a piece I've wanted to write for months but I still can't get it out without sounding either like a disgruntled emo or hopelessly depressing and then I wrote two more pieces in my head on the bus this morning and promptly forgot the majority of them because I can't write on the bus without feeling weird. I forgot how much I enjoy it.

I used to keep a diary. I wrote absolutely everything in there, things I've never told anyone even when I've wanted to. Re-reading them was a comfort, didn't matter what it was I'd scrawled on the page, because it was me there in smudgy black. I had to give it up when a certain sister read it and landed me in a heap of trouble with the parents. I'll simply say my dad did not talk to me for a year because of it. So no more diary, no more venting of all the things that go on in this topsy-turvy brain of mine and I went a little mad. I couldn't write anything other than childish drivel, I was too scared of trying anything new.

Writing again means I've regained the last part of me after I fell apart almost two years ago. I've wanted to be a writer ever since I was old enough to read but I don't know if I could ever be happy enough with something I'd written to publish it. More than that I don't think I've experienced enough to write anything substantial. All I know are missed chances and why you should never date guys with the same name in a short space of time. It just ain't right.

I've got a craving for peanut butter. I wanna watch Firefly all night with someone who loves me and a big ol' pile of toast spread thick with peanut butter. Closest I've got is Firefly with a big cushion and maybe a lollipop if my stash hasn't gone gooey. Might just do that soon, haven't seen Captain Tightpants in a long while.

Craps, I've got uni early tomorrow. Bedtime!

Oh I'll end with a conversation I overhead in classics today:

Guy who kicked me all lecture: "I watched the Celtic v Hearts game last night. There's two teams I couldn't care less about."
Guy who kept tapping his pen: "So why'd you watch?"
Kicking Guy: "I hate Hearts. I hate them so much that if they were playing Saddam Hussein I'd want him to win."

That's real loathing there folks.