It’s been two months and Dan still can’t get over how I finished an entire roll of toilet paper in three days. DUDE! IT’S JUST TOILET PAPER! You’re lucky I didn’t do my laundry with you. I can finish a bottle of fabric conditioner in one week.
Time is moving in extremely excrutiating(ly?) (ELLS major konon. I don’t even know my adverbs) slow motion. I went out for a fag, took my time and all, and when I came back in only three minutes had passed. I sat watching the dryer for what seemed like an eternity and it wasn’t even ten minutes.
But anyways, I found this incredibly depressing song by The Stereophonics.
I Miss You Now.
I feel I wanna hold you, wanna tell you that you’ll be alright
Sang this song today, it’s recalling your pictures all in my mind
I miss you now
I miss you now
Although we’re getting old now my old friends gonna leave me and die
I’m helpless, it’s gonna get us before we get this, I wanna kiss you goodbye
I miss you now
I miss you now
I miss you now
I feel I wanna hold you, wanna tell you that you’ll be alright
I’m helpless, it’s gonna get us before we get this, I wanna kiss you goodbye
I miss you now
I miss you now
I miss you now.
Fucking depressing. I want to post this song up but I don’t believe there’s such a feature on Friendster’s blogs. Which makes me ponder if I should switch blogs. Oh bother.
I had a tummy ache today, and everytime I have a tummy ache I will stay really still, like a chameleon that has blended in with its surroundings (random comparison, and the whole colour changing thing is according to said lizard’s moods, not surrounding environs. Discovery Channel). Why do I do this? Da-da-dum .. Revelation
My granny always told me that whenever you have a tummy ache, you stay still and it goes away. I don’t know if it really works, I doubt that it’s even scientifically logical or whatever, but up till today, whenever my stomach or whatever’s inside this lump of abdomen thingamabob acts up, I stay very, very still. Like a chameleon.
I don’t know why I typed all that. It’s all a pile of caboodle. I promise I will have better rubbish to write about next time.
http://juliatan.multiply.com/photos/album/11?mark_read=juliatan:photos:11
I was there?? Right on …
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The real name meaning for - Julia |
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| Julia | Innocent face, dont trust her, she will steal your wallet in five minutes |
Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaat? That’s not true! Total b.s. Innocent face, yes. Trust me, yes. Blurt out your deepest secrets? No no, I won’t do that. If I hear anyone snigger, I will know, and I will appear in your dreams tonight and haunt you.
Another penguin movie! Hear me SQUEAL!
You know what? Drinking by myself makes me feel so goddamn emotional (eMo) and melancholic. Stereophonic’s Dakota and the fact that it’s my last night in Cork does not help either. Alcohol does not help me forget, matter of fact it makes me remember every fucking detail so vividly. Maybe that’s why I like drinking alone at times, that and the thought that nobody would think that I’m a hopeless alcoholic. Why can’t alcohol help me forget? I dispense advice like a candy machine yet I can’t practice what I preach.
At least I’m writing. That’s one good thing.
Going to the backyard, it takes a while for my eyes to adjust to the lack of light. For the first 5 seconds all I can see are the brighter stars, or planets. Just a few dots in the darkness. Then the brilliance unfolds. Countless stars, too many to fathom, so beautiful. So very beautiful.
I sit down against the wall and drink my tea, thinking of what everyone else is doing. He’s probably still asleep. She’s probably waking up. Is his sky as clear as mine, or is it cloudy as it usually is? Is he doing what he usually does or is he getting piss drunk? Everyone is probably sleeping anyhow.
I’m gonna miss Cork. I’m gonna miss sporadic pub visits with my former housemate turned buddy. Everyone except loony landlady has been nice to me here, even the bizzare girl I went to Amsterdam with. Even she waved to me just now. Weirdo. Actually loony landlady has been quite nice to me, just nasty to everyone else.
Everyone started taking pictures of me after ex-housemate told them that I was leaving soon. Felt self-conscious, but posed anyhow. Maybe if I had done things differently … but I wouldn’t want to change it for the world.
I hate leaving knowing that I’d never ever see them again. The feeling is like lead pulling you down to the depths of the sea. People I have come to known and to share laughs with, however pretentious we were, people I have known briefly yet personally, people I’d never see again. The stars remind me of how ephemeral everything is. I knew that stars had to be there for a reason. Fuckers.
I know that whenever I see a lone swan on a river, or an illuminated sky, or a cigarette box on the ground (long story), I’d be reminded of my short time here. They were good times. Wouldn’t want it any other way.
I’ve roughly planned out what to do with my last month of holidays.
#1: Get Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress. Read it. Really want to read it already.
#2: Get those movies I’ve thought of watching, eg. Taxi Driver, Penelope, Ashes of Time, etc.
#3: Watch those movies I’ve been wanting to watch again, eg. Moulin Rouge, Chungking Express, Chinese Odyssey 2002. Will make my puppycakes watch them too, together-gether“
#4: Get a guitar. Learn to play. Which means I have to cut my long nails. Dilemma!
#5: Go everywhere and eat everything. Baked crabs! Baked crabsssssss!
#6: Have a little holiday within a holiday. Get a tattoo as well.
#7: Get anime from Kevin. Watch more anime.
#8: Make a trip to KL. Check out what I’ve been missing.
#9: Make that trip to KL to bully Jillian.
#10: Make sure that those who failed to send me off at the airport on January 2nd 2007 pay for it dearly.
I probably won’t do them all, but numbers 8,9 & 10 (especially #10) are high on priority list. Also #5.
Baked crabs!
http://juliatan.multiply.com/photos/album/10?mark_read=juliatan:photos:10
After months of not having a headache, I’m having one again, and I finally know what gives me headaches. The feckin’ heat. It. Was. Extremely. Hot. Today.
But that aside, I had a good time.
Less than a week left in Cork, and suddenly my social life bursts out of hibernation like a ravenous grizzly. Everyone wants to meet up before we leave. And I thought that I was going to get to enjoy my last few days of solitude.
Which I’ve just realized, these ARE my last few days of solitude, of waking up and knowing that I don’t have to do anything. I don’t have to go out (unless I’m out of milk and cigarettes), I just stay in and rot. Rotting’s real fun at times. I like it anyhow.
So I’m a bit sad about leaving. Ah well. My self-exile is over, I return from the desert. Enlightened? In certain ways. Definitely in love. Definitely not prepared for what’s to come. Definitely wanting to eat char siew. Fuck my luggage is way overweight. Fuckfuckfuck.
I wish I had my own place, but that will come in time. So long, days of perpetual slacking! I’m going home! I’m going to see my loved ones and my loved one!
