Je suis fatiguée

I'm so tired. I'm so tired. I'm so very very tired. College is an exhausting experience, and it make me want to punch anyone who says that these are going to be the best years of my life right in the face.

Yeah fuck you person. These years suck, so if they're the best in my life then I'm completely fucked.

Personally, when I stop to think about it, I can't wait until my thirties. Cause hopefully at that point I'll have job, I won't have to deal with teachers, I'll be able to pay for my own stuff, and I won't have to deal with all this young adult angst bullshit.

I am so fucking tired right now.

"Enjoy your youth" I hear my mother cry. "Go out and socialise, be young, go to parties loosen up and live your life the way you supposed to (they way everyone thinks you should".

No. Fuck off.

I can't wait till I can have a grumpy old body that will match my grumpy old personality. Honestly I think I'm older than both my parents. Let me be grumpy in peace.

I'm so tired. I just want to not be tired anymore. I'm so so tired.

Noisy Neighbours

My neighbours are ridiculous. Actually horrifically ridiculously noisy.

They're probably lovely people. But I hate them sometimes. Them being noisy during the day would piss me off, but I could handle it, you know? But they make their noise from seven in the evening to between eleven and one in the morning.

One in the fucking morning. Fuck you neighbours. Fuck you very much.

Once they started a party at four in the morning. Let me repeat. All was quiet, I was asleep and then all of a sudden guests arrive at my neighbours and they start to have a fucking party.

Are. You. Shitting. Me.

And they leave the TV on, and listen to music all night, and it's ridiculous. Just ridiculous. I have school man. My flat mate has school. We need to sleep so as to function in the mornings.

We had to go and see them at some point. We had to go up and say ''listen guys, listening to loud music and having freaking parties after ten in the evening on week nights is not cool. Please stop. For the love of all things holy, stop''.

They haven't stopped but at least they've toned it down a bit. Usually at eleven they turn off the music, and they're only obnoxiously noisy on the weekends.

My neighbours make me really angry sometimes. I just want to sleep in peace man. Is that really to much to ask?

But on a less angry note this has made me discover the magic of earplugs. Like I've slept with them Every night for a year. They're great. They were a bit uncomfortable at first, but I got used to them. You can get used to anything really.

Dealing with noisy neighbours. Wow. I guess I a grown up now. Shit.

Bitter Disappointment

I get optimistic every now and again. I start to think that life isn't so bad, it's not so hard. I convince myself that all my issues and fuck ups are all just products of my imagination. I pretend to believe all that and sometimes it feels true.

And then life happens.

Usually what happens is that I go back home. And it's not the same as I imagined it would be in my head. 

I'm not making sense. Sorry.

I remember things in a certain way. I make them beautiful, and I latch on to those memories. Like the village where I grew up. I transformed it into some kind of wonderland and so whenever I go back there's always this vague sense of disappointment. It's like my brain is giving out to the village, like it's saying "this isn't what you're supposed to be. You're supposed to be perfect".

And obviously it's not. I mean why would it be. It's a village, a place where people live and it's changed since I lived there. But I still keep getting disappointed.

It's silly really. I'm not sure why I do it.

These days it's my parents that disappoint me. I have an image of my relationship with them, of what I used to feel with them. I used to feel safe, and loved, and cared for. I don't get that vibe from them anymore. I haven't in a while. 

My brother is my Dads favourite. My sister is my Mums. This isn't me feeling sorry for myself, this is just fact.

My Dad loves me, but doesn't seem to know how to show me, and my Mum loves me too but from the way she acts you wouldn't think it sometimes. She gives the impression that she doesn't give a shit about me. Which is a little hurtful, I'll be honest.

I come home from school, or from holidays, or whatever, and I'll get my hopes up. I'll think "maybe Dad will give me a hug. Maybe Mum will listen to me when I talk, instead of just ignoring me".

It usually takes five minutes max before I know it's not going to happen, and then I have to leave the room. Disappointment is a bitter thing, and it's hard to swallow.

Very few people have not disappointed me. I think that's why I like cats better. And Teddy bears. Velvet and Bob have yet to disappoint.

(And Tamar. I love you for that.)

Friends having babies

I am twenty years old. And this year not one, but two (TWO) of my old school friends got pregnant.

What the fucking shit.

Seriously it's madness. Like first I get a text message from Friend number one (lets call her P) and I am understandably surprised. But then not even a week later I'm told that friend number 2 (who I will call M) was also pregnant.

Guys. Stop. You're my age, you can't have kids. I am a kid.

It's times like these where I remember that, technically speaking, I am in fact a grown up. I keep forgetting that little detail. Like me? An adult? No no I'm fourteen and a baby.

So yeah. Babies. Wow.

P and M both had girls by the way. P's baby is adorable, and I haven't seen M's small child yet.

And I mean they're both very happy with their babies, and I'm very happy for them cause they're happy you know?

No one is miserable is what I mean.

It's just that I thought I had at least another ten years before I had friends who were mothers and also my age. Like this situation feels like it happened a little bit ahead of schedule.

You can't stop life from happening I guess. 

Massive dork losers

I am not a cool person. I never was, and chances are I never will be. I've always been a bit of a dork, a bit of a loser.

I mean looking back on myself between the ages of twelve and fifteen it's a little hard not to cringe. I mean I had the braces, the ugly glasses, the not very fashionable clothes, and a frankly dreadful taste in shoes.

I like to think that I have improved on those fronts despite remaining a loser. But I mean seeing as yesterday and today I made my hair up like Lagertha and Aslaug from Vikings, I think we can all agree on the fact that I'm not exactly the coolest cat on this street.

Whatever. My hair looks awesome today, I don't care. Most of the time.

When I'm on my own surrounded by people who are cool, and who have been tricked into believing that I'm a fully functional human being that could possibly be allowed to hang out with them, it's not so fun.

"So Chloe what do you like to do with your time off ? "

"Oh you know, nothing special, I like to sit at home in the dark with my teddy bears and my cat watching way too many TV shows and rereading Harry Potter for the 800th time"

But when I'm with friends it's awesome. Cause my friends are also fucking dorks. All of the them. Seriously. Some of them are very good at camouflaging themselves, but trust me, they're dorks.

 Losers, the lot of them. God bless.

So yeah. I'm a loser. It's not so bad. I'm pretty well surrounded. And besides, being cool always seemed pretty overrated.

Tomorrow will be kinder

I get these moods where nothing feels real. Where I don't feel sad, or happy, or angry, I just feel empty and I also kind of feel like I'm floating.

Those are days where there is virtually nothing to do with me. The best solution is to abandon me in my room with the Internet and Bob (you know my dolphin teddy) , and maybe a comfort book (meaning Harry Potter, preferably one of the three first ones. Prisoner of Askaban is my favourite).

Leave me there, let me mope (as my mother would call it) and then let me sleep it off. I'm usually better the next day. If I'm not then repeat.

When I'm in my bed I feel warm, and safe, and protected. My mum and Granny have both recently expressed concern over how much time I spend in my room, but I like my room. It's safe there. No one can hurt me when I'm in my room under my blankets. With Bob. Obviously.

Admittedly I get lonely sometimes. But not often enough to make me want to get out. I'm not an extrovert, and not at ease with large groups of people. And I like being alone sometimes.

Sometimes I wonder if my mother thinks I'll walk out someday and then come back with a boy. Or with a girl. 

And I wonder if she thinks that the reason I want to stay single is because I'm shy or something. 

And then I wonder how I might have to explain myself one day. After all I'm only twenty, being single is hardly unusual. But maybe when I'm older.

And I'm scared that I might get lonely. But not scared enough.

The last time I tried to hint at this subject with my mum, she told me that she thought I was protesting a bit too much about never wanting a partner.

I replied that if I protest so much it's only because no one is listening.

I still don't know what I'm doing

I forgot to write here again. I just kind of lost all motivation, all will to keep trying. I mean let's be honest here. I am not the most interesting person out there, and I don't have all that much to say.

But you know I did start this thing for a reason. And there are two or three people I know who do read my ramblings and who, on different occasions, have asked me to look after my blog a bit more.

So here I am. Writing on my blog. Check me out.

I am on holidays after all, it's not as if I don't have time. I mean I literally just spent my entire day in bed watching "Orange is the New Black" and "Firefly". My mother is probably going mental cause I have no social life and all I do is "mope" around the house.

I have a job this time though, so unlike last summer she can't guilt trip me about it. I take my victory's where I can get them.