The Dropped Salad Diaries.

In the Metro this morning..

Scientists at Kings College have announced that smart women have more fun in bed.

Women “who have greater emotional intelligence” have more orgasms than the “average woman”.

“Low emotional intelligence could be linked to female orgasmic disorder”

So there you go.

If your partner can’t make you come ladies – you’re stupid.

I should get out more.

Take a more active or even, dare I use a much hated phrase "Pro-active" approach to blogging.

Too many hidy away friends only posts I thihk.

I should shake my bones in the light a bit more.

Use this voice I have a bit more openly.

Or maybe not.

Because you can't be happy and shiny all the time.

and sometimes you need to talk.

Or not.

Who bloody knows eh?

That is how I feel right now.

Odd.

Just out of the blue.

Thinking is bad for you.

But necessary.

So much stuff to do and face.

I am not an adult, or not enough of one to do this.

Scared and shakey most of the time.

Terrified a lot more.

I don't understand enough about this situation and ignorance generates fear.

I make strange involuntry moaning noises as I try to drift off to sleep. Everytime I think about all of it.

An adventure of sorts, someone more mature and confident would probably see it as such. But I keep playing things through to the worst conclusion.

Everything is "interesting"

I snap at people and raise my voice.

It is not because I am angry. They are trying to help me.

It is because I am so scared by it all.

I am pathetic really. This is nothing.

But we all react in different ways.

And I am still missing a friend.

Writing things down is sometimes a good way to get things out of your head or at least arrange thoughts into a solid cohesive block of words. If you let the thoughts bounce around un-formed for too long it can get messy.

It is like making a list of things you have to do.

So for some bizarre reason – mainly boredom but also an attempt to stop my head repeating these thoughts to myself over an over again – I decided to write down a list of possible circumstances to explain a situation I find myself in.

I came up with three possibilities that seemed to cover most probable scenarios.

Did it help?

Well sort off, now they are there on that pad I can see what I was thinking. Yes I know I obviously knew what I was thinking but it just looks better written down.

And yeah I think it helped.

But you never know. Well you never know the truth most of the time so you won’t know if you are right.

Anyway, does anyone else employ this method to clear your head of unwanted or annoyingly repetitive thoughts?

It has been a while, but here it is. That feeling I used to get in the afternoons, possibly more to do with my biorhythms than anything real. But a little cloud of Meh settling around my head. Well a bit more than “Meh” but I can’t think of a suitable word.

It will pass. I will have a little drink and a relax and someone will hug me (in the physical world, not via blog) and all will be well. Well hopefully that is what will happen.

I have too vivid an imagination.

Or no backbone.

Or something like that. Imagining scenarios and possible reasons or going back over things that have been gone back over countless times before.

Thankfully this feeling is not as bad or intense as it used to be but I had got used to not having it.

I should follow the example of stronger friends. People whose resilience I admire and have done for some time.

I should also get my hair cut.

And maybe have something to eat.

Took me quite a while.

I should point out that I am not physically disabled, but I was just very shy when I was young.

So I used to walk everywhere with my head down, chin on my chest and with my hands thrust into my pockets.

I think it was so I couldn’t see the world or at least the people in it. Because I was scared of them and what I might see in their eyes when they looked at me.

My parents constantly told me “lift your head up!” when we were out, but if I did it only lasted a little while. Back to hiding as soon as possible, down with my head and the world goes away.

In my teenage years I started to hold my head up a bit more. This was because I had realised I was long sighted and if my head was up I could see trouble coming before it saw me. But I still kept my hands in my pockets, almost hugging myself for security.

In fact I always wore a coat so I would have somewhere to hide my hands. Even in the hottest of summers, I would have some form of jacket on with my hands thrust into the pockets. Extra layer – extra protection? Who knows…

I eventually stopped walking around like that when I started working in the city.
The fact that I had a job made me feel like maybe I was not as useless as I thought I was, and I made a conscious effort to keep my hands out of my pockets until it became a habit.

But god it felt odd at first – these two arm things hanging down and wanting to swing about as I walked. I felt so uncomfortable. But eventually I got it.

Such a simple thing.

Now I hardly every put my hands in my pockets, and in summer I don’t bother with a jacket for physiological protection.

Some days though, when I don’t feel that confident, walking still feels a little odd. Like I have only just started doing it.

I look at him again and want to punch him.

I hate the things I do by accident.

I hate the pain I cause without thinking.

I want to be better. A better reflection. A better person.

But all I can do is try my best.

All I have to do is try harder.

They sleep here,

Now behind me.

And above.

My two best friends, people I love dearly. They lay in the other room and succumb to the weight of the week and the drink and food consumed to kill the week dead. Basking in the warmth of a tv show where musicians hawk their talents...to a room of happy sleep infested people.

And the person who is all I am, the one thing I have done right, sleeps with her soft toys and her blond hair, up there above.

In a room next to mine.

and as they all sleep I am happy.

And I try to forget that I will explode.

I try to forget and excuse someones actions.

Because I have to be the better parent.

All of this.

Modern life, consumerism all of it. Why? I get lost. Confused. I hate it. But I love it. Central heating, air conditioning, take-aways that deliver, gadgets, guitars, music.

But working for a living? Money? Voting? celebrity! Who's idea was all that. But I love money and the stuff it can get you. But it's just stuff. Which makes no sense.

It was simpler when you got born and your family taught you how to live, how to build a home, care for livestock, hunt, grow crops and make bread and beer and preserve food. But I am not in any way moving to some backwards commune and living off the land because I love the stereo and the video games and electricity and internet and stuff.

Arrrgh!

I want it all to fuck off and burn and I want it all to stay.

And relationships, and people and stuff. People are vile on the whole, but fantastic in isolation. Taken one by one, good and bad. We generally deserve to be blasted off the face of the planet, but I love many individuals and would die for them if it came to it.

And do NOT mention Chritmas!

God I feel nuts!