DEAD

I’ve been thinking more and more about killing myself lately. And as rational as my thought are, they just seem like an answer. Sam X

Taking Stock

This time two years ago, I got my leaving cert results.  It was one of those moments you never forget. And today, I’m thinking, what have I achieved?

I thought going to college would be the start of my life. You see, when I turned 18, I was going into the final and most important year of school, so life aside from studying and exams was put on hold. So once I cleared school and started college ambition came out.

And now two years on, I’m in the exact same position I was then. Don’t have a course, soon I won’t have a job, and not a man in sight.

And it’s sort of psychologically tearing me apart. I think I took things out on  Jackdaw a little bit over the past few weeks, just because he was in the line of fire. And I’m apologising.

Anyway. I need to get my life sorted. Next Monday the college offers come out, and then it’ll be decided whether I get a place or not. If I do, happy days. If I don’t, I’m going to start looking for a full time job, until I’m 23, and then I can go back as a mature student.

Oh, and if you’re looking for a cheap giggle over your coco pops, give this article a read! It’s actually published with a serious tone - Is My Husband Gay?

Brighton

And on a lighter and completely different note from my last two posts, I’m going to tell you all about my dirty weekend in Brighton, England.

I flew over with easyJet, from Belfast Intl. and landed at about 4PM. There’s a direct train to Brighton from Gatwick. My flight was £118, and it only took an hour. The Hostel we stayed in was called Journeys, and it was nice on appearance, but there were things that made me uneasy. The guy behind the counter was gorgeous and I was like phoooooar. But anyway, so we went in, and the room was narrow as fuck, and stacked three bunks high. The heat was so intense, it was hard to stay there. We went to this place called the Queens arms first, and it was like this little British pub, except the walls were plastered with pictures of drag queens in various states of aging, it was awful. We then went to this place called Revenge, which was a faux superclub. It was just two floors, a tiny stage and stroppy barstaff. I lost everyone, and it was like 3AM, and I couldn’t find anyone, and didn’t want to go to bed yet, so I hit a sauna, where I met this Australian. He was like late 20s/early 30s, and gorgeous. I couldn’t believe my luck.

So Saturday came, and we went to Preston park, where the parade thing was going to end. We got there at 11, and the parade wasn’t due to end until 1, but it was already jammers. Absolutely jammers. But it was brilliant, there was a bear tent, a dance tent, bars, fetish stalls, and a funfair. Absolutely crackin’. So then we went back to the hostel, intending to nap, but got pizza on the way. We sat talking about relationships for ages, and things got said that shouldn’t have been said. There’s still a little venom left in the sting, so I’m not going to talk about it. Anyway, that night we went to this lesbian bar first, called the marlboro. It was terrifying, and a great game of ‘guess the gender’ ensued. After that we went to R-bar, where there was karaoke. I met a group of Englishmen in the smoking area who invited me to Legends for a drink. So I went with them by myself, and one drink lead to another, and I would up blowing one of them in the toilets.

SO. I then went back to the queens arms, but it was closed, what with it being 4AM at this point. TAXI! In the taxi back to the hostel, I spotted a few of my friends outside revenge, and hopped out of the taxi, and ran into them. Met this guy in there called James, who was from Cork. I had a great night in there, and got back to the hostel at like 7 or 8AM, and throwout time was 10AM. I was still hammered packing.

My check in was at 3, so we went down the pier, played the slot machines, and then I had to endure dealing with airports hungover. But my god what a holiday. I’m all set for Brighton Pride 2011!

Emotion

I fucking hate this one night stand business. I hate being single, and I hate that I’ve been single for as long as I can remember. Everyone sees me as this one night stand, and that has to stop. People just think I amn’t relationship material. Now Jackdaw is in a relationship and it’s just not sitting well. Which picture of him do I think is the best? Do I think he’s cute? Are you seriously asking me that?

I can’t be dealing with that. Seriously. I need a fresh start. Or to make people with being single.

Do you get what I’m saying?

Licking My Wounds

“ Jack went from being "single" to "in a relationship".”

How do I feel is obviously your first though, right? Well that smile was wiped right off my face, firstly. I’m fucking terrified that he’s going to be like everyone else. Like close friends of mine, previous friends who I’ve been so so close to, and then disappeared off the face of the planet once they get with someone. Is there no phone reception up his bum or something?

Anyway, so now, Jack is like, my parent, and best friend in a weird way. He’s keeping me on a good path, always looking out for me, always there, always has my back. So now when he gets with this boy, is he never going to be there? Maybe. People always say, that oh no, nothing will change now that I’m in a relationship, but it never stays true. It always happens. People change.

Last night I found this out. And today, while checking out my blogs, I saw Shaving My Balls With A Chainsaw, by Ryan had been updated. Boy when Ryan updates, he updates hard. And then I though, who am I to moan. I have a huge circle of friends, and if I want to get over someone, I can very easily get under someone else. But if you read Ryan's latest post, I can’t help but feel terrible for him. I want to go over there and show him how to get over someone properly.

So less feeling sorry for myself, more feeling sorry for Ryan. But on the same hand, is that really condescending? “Awww, poor you!” ? I’m not sure.