V for Vendetta.

god i love that film so so much! it's awesomepossum! I'm going to re-read the book and try to like that too, i think i only disliked it because it was too hard to follow as i read it in intervals dictated by when i could escape to the ever unwelcoming wortikas. but anyway I've been quite ill recently so I've been doing very little, or at least that's my excuse for doing very little and i woke up today and promised myself I'd draw something as recently i've been having a sort of crisis. i can't seem to come up with my own ideas, or interesting concepts or anything, i think I'd sacrifice some of my talent for better ideas, i was looking through my gallery and nothing in it is particularly interesting or intuitive or any other word that sounds right but I'm not quite sure of the meaning. I guess I'm just not feeling creative right now, so I've started looking at other things i've never tried before like doing realistic things. it's really fun in a strange sort of way and I'm really really pleased with the results so far because it's never been something i thought i could do before.
in other news, i hate feeling clingy and i hate people who make me feel clingy, i also hate men. who i don't hate though are Nickle Creek and their song 'Spit on a Stranger'.

Vauge Feeling of Loss.

I'm dreading this funeral i don't want to go, i want to hide away somewhere dark and small and relatively warm. i think I'm actually petrified.

on another note, I'm really really proud of this picture, and now i come to think of it, he and Livvie are the only people I've drawn seriously (apart from Jess's eye).
I miss him a lot right now and wish very much for a hug. it's a strangely vague feeling of loss.

When I Am Old I Shall Wear Purple.

okay, well basically, i found out on Sunday (7th) that my Auntie Julie died of a heart attack on Friday (5th). she wasn't even 40, though I'm not sure on her exact age. we weren't close but she was my auntie and i looked forward to seeing her and being the weird novelty relative who's always fun to be around and chat to about weird arty things and to invite round for coffee and never mean it though the thought's still there. when my mum said she needed to talk to me i knew immediately that someone had died, but i thought it was going to be my Grandpa. it's very very strange how you just know when it's something that huge. she told us straight that Julie had died and my brother started crying and my mum's eyes welled up and i just sat there. i couldn't do anything. i didn't know what to do, to be brutally honest, i didn't feel like crying, i did, but i don't know why, it wasn't as if they were just tears to look like i felt something, I'm pretty sure they were genuine, it's just it didn't feel like me crying, it felt like my little wire man from art was behind my eyes pumping out the tears. i just felt empty for a few minutes and then i went for a shower.
whenever i think about her now, i just get the urge to tell a tasteless joke, like i was looking through my 'special stuff' box and i found a book she'd given me called 'When I Am Old, I Shall Wear Purple' and instead of feeling sadness over her passing, all i thought was, not anymore you're not.
now, I'm either:
Suppressing all this emotion and it will come out later.
Unable to deal with the devastating idea that i will never again see someone who played such an important role in my mother's side of the family.
Or I'm simply an unfeeling emotionally stunted shit.
I'm not sure i like any of those options, half of me quite fancies the idea that I'm unable to face my emotions, i think that's a nicer alternative to just not feeling.
how are you supposed to feel when something like this happens?
people say that grieving is a personal process and it's different for everybody, but I'm simply not grieving.
maybe my horrible jokes are my way of dealing with this?
but that can't be true, i mean sure that's a mechanism for dealing with silly teenage problems like your boyfriend cheating on you, not the death of a relative?

also, another thing that i did when i was told was get a really good idea for a short story. then i thought about that for a while. akin to what Neil Gaiman's Shakespeare was saying, that as a writer he will always experience things with half of himself observing. as much as i like the idea of being able to identify with some of his writing, i don't feel okay that it was at Julie's expense. is it really at her expense.

i think i was crying more for my cousins than i was for Julie, they don't have a mother anymore, and my uncle lives in Mexico.

I'm not sure whether i pride myself on being emotionally retarded. i think, don't be stupid, that's a stupid thing to be proud of, and then the other half of me goes, of course you'd say that because to have a genuine problem you have to deny that you have a problem, and you'd like to have a problem in your boring middle class life wouldn't you.

i really don't know, i wish i did know, life would be so much easier if there was a set text that you could deviant from at will, but check up on every now and again... just to make sure you were the safe kind of weird, the cool kind of quirky, the okay kind of strange. and not just fucked or simply normal (oh the temptation to say something incredibly pretentious like 'same thing isn't it?' is rather large).

my sister's written a letter to Julie about how much she loved her and how she was sorry she didn't get to say it to her when she was alive.
I'm not sure what i would have put in my version.

Dear Julie
It was lovely knowing you, though i never spent much time around you i knew you were a nice person who was always ready for a girly laugh and a cup of coffee over which you could gossip about people we both knew. it would have been fun to go on a shopping trip with you, Livvie and mum. it's funny thinking that you're never going to be at Steepways anymore, parking your bum on the aga or suggesting it was time to go to the pub or yelling at Livvie and I aged eight or nine to 'shut the hell up or I'll put you in separate bedrooms'. I'm glad that you made Livvie invite me to all of her birthdays and looked after me when they abandoned me for makeup and more attractive girly things. Thank you for offering to house me if i got into art school in cheltenham, and though it was never going to happen at least now we have a good excuse for it not to have. and thank you for the years of HMV vouchers.
I think I'm going to miss you like I'd miss Steepways if it fell down, you were an integral, if not central part of my childhood.

You've played knifey spoony before!

boy do i ever fail at asking someone out *laughs* after deciding first to go for Chinese, being turned down, then suggesting Nando's only to be told that his mothers already cooked and he can't get out of it, not only meaning i haven't eaten all day for nothing, he will also be another hour later than planned. then to take him to the Pig only to find that he was planning to take me back to his but i said i only had a small amount of time with him (meaning three hours) and he thought i meant an hour and a half sort of thing. so now i am sat eating 1/4 of a quiche a cold jacket potato that i don't want to know how old it is, and half a peanut butter sandwich. and i couldn't be happier. it was a wonderful night, spent the whole time chatting and laughing and holding hands and, oh he's so lovely. we had a 'so what were your first impressions of me' chat and he went on for ages about how i came off really inelegant and he loved that, and then we had some fun texting questions like 'why doesn't she love me?' to 118118... i expect they get those ALL the time >.< then he started to get all sciency and started asking questions about bullets in space and body type stuff. he's also taken a course in hypno therapy and we chatted for ages about psychology and NLPs and things. he said we'd try some hypno stuff on me, I'd quite like to do that.
then long haired Adam ant recognizing guy was at the bar and i randomly thought of knifey spoony and burst out laughing. this caused him too look over all offended like and ask what could possibly be so funny and i said to him 'do you know about knifey spoony' and suddenly he just jumped up and yelled 'AH I SEE YOU'VE PLAYED KNIFEY SPOONY BEFORE!' and poor Alec is sat there without a clue as we suddenly began a round of the game. then i had to explain the rules to him and he was in hysterics, not at the game but at the fact that long haired guy knew what i was on about.
For those of you unfarmiliar, Knifey Spoony is a game in which two or more players compare knives; the player with the largest knife is the winner. However, any player may choose to use a spoon instead of a knife. Any spoon beats any knife, but a player with a spoon is disqualified if another player recognizes and announces his or her use of a spoon.
"That's not a knife. THIS is a knife!"
"That's not a knife, that's a spoon."
"Ah, I see you've played Knifey-Spoony before!"

i was writing this last night before my mother yelled at me to get to bed and have now lost all luster for accounting last night. it was indeed a wonderful evening, i can't wait to just go back to his house and chill though. that's another thing i miss so bitterly about going out with Kit being relaxed.
it's frustrating and i put it down to my almost being on my period but, i've been thinking about him a lot. when I'm at school it's fine because i can see what an awful dolt he is. but when I'm not, my memory tends to wander. i also thought Helena was going home with him today and was unpleasantly surprised by how much that bothered me. even though i know i've done worse with Alec. i guess i have to remember how unrelated i felt the two, i really shouldn't say incidents *laughs* how unrelated i felt the two encounters were, i make my bed sound like a rather large place. we just encountered amongst the sheets.

i have tea and am tired, i wish to retire to bed.
Goodnight.

I swear it on my name they could smell it on me.

i have both the feeling of great satisfaction and dread at the same time, which is rather interesting, it's the dangerous kind of mood that could swing to either extreme. i had a good day today despite my back hurting LIKE A BITCH! Chris came with me into town and we spent the whole time chatting and just catching up, then we went to Thornton's and he bought me a hot chocolate to say thankyou for the company and said that we hadn't talked for ages and it was nice that we could catch up. he said he understood me not wanting to hang around the kitchen anymore.
I think Kit is why I'm feeling dread, i think I'm over him. how can i ever get over that? i mean, i just don't know what i feel, i tell everyone i don't care, i AM over him. he's SO different i just, fuck he's just always there and i miss him so much. i'm still thinking about him all the dam time. ALL THE TIME. i want to carve him out of my head. if only it were that easy. i want him to notice me, i want him to just be my FUCKING FRIEND! i want him to look at me with something other than apathy in his eyes, ANYTHING! FUCKING ANYTHING. FUCKING. ANYTHING. other than that apathy, not even a cold stare, just, nothing.

i saw him playing with his ear today.
he's still there, some of the small, insecure, sweet little boy is in there. it's managed to survive. i want that, i want it back.
i want to throw my arms around it and drag it back into reality.

...he's such a fuck.
*laughs* i no longer feel satisfied.