so today I made some rather fancy gluten free cupcakes. (photo stolen from my facebook) with rather yummy glittery red icing and mini marshmallows and chocolate stars! Exciting. The sponge was chocolate and vanilla, using real vanilla seeds to flavour.
(sadly only using cocoa powder for the chocolate, but at least it was bornville!) They tasted scrummyly yummy :D but im saving a few for a present for my rather lovely boyfriend.
Also today, i have shockingly spent a small fortune on ebay out of boredom, I have bought a new purse and a new handbag, both black with silver wrighting from Juicy couture. (say what you like about Juicy, but their assessories are LUSH) I bought them both as second hand so at least i didnt spend too much. Also considering buying a cute ghost bead for my pandora.
My asos clothes came, but im sadly having to send my vera moda dress back, as the cut was really wierd and made it look like i was wearing a child's night gown :( plus i refuse to buy anything in a size over a M. However the cute asos blouse and skirt looked amazing on :D
Sometimes, you just think. Yes I can write, I have a story to tell.
Admittedly it might not be a very good story, but its got all the makings of a good novel, adventure, darkness and a slightly twisted view of the past. It might sound like a pile of rambling nonsense to someone else, but they haven't lived it. They haven't experienced it.
Your not quite sure what that story is, but you pray to the god of text, that when you start writing, somehow the words will fill the page, some how your empty mind will make sence of some jumbled thoughts and put them into some kind of appealing way.
Some journey that you've put to the back of your mind, an illness you have, that no one quite understands, somehow it suddenly makes sense to you. Some how you suddenly understand what it means to have a mental disability, that you've spent your whole life not thinking about, not putting on job forms, keeping out of the light. Because you know people will judge you, for being a bit different.
But then you stop and think, and that paranoia sets in again, because you know it doesn't matter. Its the reason why you do a dead end job, and don't try. Because it baffles you. It confuses you when you see the people who spend their whole lives wanting to stay in their job. Their job that pays £6.03 an hour. And it confuses you, because every time you walk through those doors you switch off and daydream about being somewhere else. Anywhere else.
I'm a bit kooky, I'm a bit scatty, I cant remember yesterday, and i'm not thinking of tomorrow. Because I can't, my mind wont let me. I push my friends away, because i like being alone, I talk about things that normal women dont talk abot, and i stay in my own world because i dont want to talk about whats going through my head at any different point.
I can't cope with distractions when i start tasks. I can't work with other people. And i don't participially like small talk.
Sometimes there's a lot of things you haven't written about, A lot of things you cannot quite possibly put into words, Such as happiness. Am I happy, I don't know, all i know for certain is i'm not unhappy, and that's all that matters.
I don't know what happiness is, its been too long. I do however know what it feels like to be miserable. And i'm far from that. Which is a breakthrough.
Albeit I am stuffing my face full of various herbal slimming pills, and weighing myself every 30 seconds, but its not like it was before. I no longer rely on my weight to determine how i feel, and i guess that means I've come a long way.
I'm finally in a relationship that makes sense in my own mind, a relationship I chose to be in, and, I think the road is starting to look less long.
So i'm good. But it's still raining outside.
But do you know what? I finally am not going to let it in.
