#macbeth style where i literally cannot sleep

[a1ex-is-dumb]

felt tired and was about to go to sleep. said this to my friend that i was on call with, who replied by saying, “goodnight, i hope you deserve it.”

WTF HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO REPLY TO THAT

anyways i hung up and now i fear for the short mortal life i must endure on this planet

[rueur]

Morning Pages #37 (26.02.2017)

Sunday 26th February - 11:44 p.m.

I decided that I’m going to write my way into my twentieth birthday, after Isaac sent me a super enthusiastic message in anticipation for my becoming a twenty-something. Ugh, that horrendous term. I do not want to leave my adolescent years behind me, I really don’t. But then again, I am also somewhat excited to begin on this new chapter of my life. I’ll still be in uni yes, but things are supposed to start getting more serious now, right? All of a sudden it’s supposed to be more disappointing that I don’t have a job, and that I’m living at home. It’s become more dangerous for me to be immature because now I don’t have free reign to do so, as a nineteen year old. To be honest with you, I greatly enjoyed turning eighteen. It was my first year of tertiary education and I had so much to look forward to! Nineteen, I merely tolerated. I mean I was still a teenager but nineteen was most definitely guaranteed to be a weird age, as well as a weird year. Last year was an immensely weird year. But twenty! I just don’t want to have to deal with this age. I mean I am so excited for this year, naturally. My undergraduate course is coming to a neat close and I have a very kind love in my life and I’m actually hopeful about my career after the slam poetry venture. But earlier today even thathi asked me about what I’m going to do for MONEY after uni and I just had no idea. The idea of selling my labour makes me uncomfortable, but if I don’t do this I will most likely become a beggar and beggars cannot be choosers.

I want to see how much I can type before midnight. It’s been five minutes or so and I’m halfway through the first page of these three pages. I kind of just want to spew these out so that I can go to bed at a reasonable hour. Ideally, I’d be asleep right now. But I just don’t want to sleep through my last few minutes as a teenager. There’s a massive spider in my room, just chilling on the wall. In the corner, above my desk. I can’t deal with this right now. I’m just praying that it won’t move at all for the next eight or so minutes and then I can deal with it once I’m twenty. This is awful, goodness. I have to sleep. This is just the worst timing. First day back at uni and my twentieth birthday. At least I’ll have an interesting fact for whatever introductions I’ll have to provide in my first class tomorrow. I have a lecture first thing in the morning, well actually it starts at noon. I’ll need to be on the train around ten then. I’m trying to get back into that morning commute mindset. My bike is at the station. Should I walk there in the morning or should I get a lift? A walk might be nice. Serene, peaceful, you know. I need a bit of time to myself. I spent all day with my parents and my grandpa, in a car mostly. We went to Warburton, to the Bodhivana Monastery, because I asked if we could and they couldn’t say no to me on my birthday. See that place is insanely beautiful and being there greatly improves my emotional headspace, even if I arrive there already feeling quite fine. I needed it today though, because I managed to speak to the saddhu for a bit about dealing with grief. It was helpful for the most part. Oh no, five minutes left. I’m at least at the bottom of the first page, or at least I’m nearly there. Isaac sent me another message. He wished me a happy birthday a little prematurely because of the time difference between Australia and New Zealand. I thought he’d just remembered ahead of time that it was my birthday, but apparently not! I’m aware of how little he really cares about me and how tiny a person I am in his ‘larger than life’ life, but sometimes I just kind of like to think I mean more than I do. Because of the way we met and the person that he is. He’s eclectic, and so vibrant and unique, I just want to keep him in my life. I think he wants the same from me, perhaps. He just doesn’t feel like he’s in a place to demand that from anybody because of how transient he is and will continue to be for most of his youth. He’s going to be twenty-six this year, and I know that I will not be as successful as he is at twenty-six. Well obviously not with that attitude. I need to be more optimistic, and have some faith in myself. I killed that poetry slam. My raw score was 28/30, and I know I can do so much better the next time round, because I have a firm foundation now.

Nearly one minute left now. I’m seeing Evan tomorrow, I think. We haven’t discussed it too much, but the plan is that we’re supposed to go out to dinner to celebrate my birthday and the first day of uni, and his last day of work too a little. And his birthday too, maybe. Everything is happening right now. Oh goodness thirty seconds left. I’m making this a bigger deal than it is, I know. I think about the nine months I spent in my mother’s womb and I know that I’ve technically been alive a lot longer than twenty years now, because of those months I was a foetus. Just because I wasn’t born, doesn’t mean I wasn’t alive. Midnight! And the first song I’m hearing is ‘Silenced By The Night’ by Keane which literally started right on midnight. iTunes is on shuffle as I type. I’m officially twenty. Well, I mean I can go by the hour and minute I was born but I don’t want to, I mean the Facebook notifications start from midnight onwards so I’ll just go off of that. Isaac went to bed. My first birthday wish of the day was rather brief. Goodness, I need to get this over with and go to bed. I have to sleep. I have to be ready for tomorrow. It’s going to be hot. It’s going to be hot for all of next week. I don’t know if I have enough clothes for five thirty-degree days. I don’t know what I should do on Wednesday and Friday of this week. I think I should get my monthly myki pass as soon as I can, though. Once I do get that, I’ll need to travel every day to make the most of it, or at least try and travel every day. I can just take myself out if I have nothing else to do, but I should be looking for work, I know. I do have some spare time even with uni and it would be nice to make some money using that spare time. Maybe I should actually run english tuition classes. Malli’s studying ‘Macbeth’ and ‘Twelve Angry Men’ this year and I studied them both in Year 11. I actually studied ‘Twelve Angry Men’ in Year 10, but it was a Year 11 Literature class. It was taught by that mousey goth teacher, the old Kiwi woman who looked like the human equivalent of a baby raven. She was so small. I forget her name, but I remember her face and her accent. She was a lovely woman, just a little too blunt at times and she had a bit of an attitude. She was witty on occasion, but more sharp than anything else. She was a little like Mr. McClenaghan except Mr. Mac was a lot more affable in his eccentricities. It helps that he was a man though, I mean you could argue that. It’s usually easier to get along with male teachers, because you can’t take them seriously. Female teachers get respect just for being ladies, or at least that’s what I remember from high school. Varrasso is on Facebook. People have added her. I think Marcus might’ve too, but Marcus was actually pretty friendly with her. A lot of people who have her on Facebook were cheeky with her, not sincere and oftentimes not even kind. I’m onto my third page! Would you look at that, huh? I think I’m actually writing these pages correctly, like as actual stream-of-consciousness and not just as a diary, which is what I’ve been doing for the past month, I feel. I have a bit of a nasty cough left, the dredges of my monster cold. It’s irritating me, not because I’m coughing, but because I haven’t stopped yet. I want to just wake up tomorrow and be all good again. That would be a fantastic birthday present from the universe. It’s been thirteen minutes and I don’t feel twenty yet. FUCK. THE SPIDER HAS MOVED. I actually have no idea where it is now. Oh no. I should’ve dealt with it immediately upon seeing it, I know. Whatever, I don’t care too much right now because my cold has been my biggest thought for the past couple of days (aside from Evan sometimes). Ikaros sent me a weird message this morning. He said ‘Good morning’ and then ‘Sorry for everything’. It sounded really finalised, like I was afraid he was going to do something. I don’t know, I mean I know he never would. He cares about himself too much to let himself wallow over anything. He didn’t cry at all the first time we broke up. To be fair, he initiated it all on his own and I don’t think he’d thought it all the way through either, but he didn’t even cry after he had given it some thought.

I took a break because my brother came back and he helped me find and then vacuum up the big spider. Bless him. Anyway, yes. Evan sent me some photos that he’d taken on Saturday morning, when we were out all night. He sent me four photos of the two of us on the top of the hills, whilst we were watching the sun rise. The lighting was pretty lovely and we were both wearing red that day, funnily enough. I was wearing a red turtleneck and my red puffy jacket, and he was wearing his big red hoodie, so we were accidentally matching. That tends to be our signature style: accidentally complementary, or unintentionally complementary. It’s pretty lovely, and as he said earlier, also rather cosmic. This just feels so right. I can’t get over how RIGHT this feels. For both of us too, I mean it’s so fantastic and so weird being this in sync with another person, but I love it. And I am so looking forward to seeing him tomorrow, I really am. It would just be the perfect way to end today. Hell, I have to start today first though, don’t I? It’s half past midnight and I have about a third of this page left to go. OH! I sent Evan photos from the Bodhivana Monastery and he said it looked beautiful (not in those exact words, his exact words were a lot more M-rated and enthusiastic, believe me). I also told him that I want to take him there some time soon, and he said ‘as soon as he gets his license’. ‘LIKE ON THAT DAY’. What a sweetheart, I swear to god I did not believe that there could ever be a boy this sweet, but here he is. I won’t lie though, I was a little taken aback by the fact that he just straight up said ‘I want to have sex with you’ to my face after the brief conversation we had about my poem, but I also think I appreciated him being straightforward and also for being considerate of me and letting me know what his intentions were rather than just making it happen. This means that next time we get some alone time we’ll be able to just...let things happen. I can’t imagine what it’s going to feel like, I mean if I’m just going off of the intensity I feel JUST when we’re KISSING, my estimate on the intensity during our sexy times is going to be through the roof. Right? Speak of the devil, he just messaged me. My love. My drunk love, apparently. I think he’s had a raucous weekend. It’s his birthday too after all.