Tell me

You want to pay me to do what I love

That you love me

That I've got innate ability

That I'm exactly what you're looking for

That maybe I'm not pretty but I made you look twice

That you don't think I'm a silly girl

That I'm perspicacious

That I'm doing my best

And it's good enough to get me through.

That I can go there

That I can do that

That I'm working hard and it's paying off

That I'll be happy.

That you want to go out and see things and do things

That you want to see me and come to where I live.

Noone will tell me these things. So I'll just have to keep telling myself. Till they are true.

fucking shit fuck

Fucking sanctimonious fucking job seekers, I don't give a fucking fuck, and why doesn't anyone want to contact me? why aren't they around anymore? Am I shit now? Don't they like me? I don't understand why I'm so fucking repellent to everyone, which makes me feel more repellent to myself as well.

I need new job, new friends, new life and I am so sick of being the same old me. I'm always trying far too hard and everyone else is just floating through. I wish I could stamp on all the fuckers finding it so fucking easy and telling me how it's hard, or how my life is going to be hard, or how I have to fucking well try harder. Have they tried being me? Fuck off then you cunts, because until you have, I don't give a fucking shit what your narrow minded view of what I can and can't do is, dressed in rumpled clothes without this or that course but great ideas but you can't work for us for a fee, no, we'll take you, and you've worked three fucking years for nothing, do a gap year, do this, do that be better, I don't give a fucking shit.

Please.

All I want is to be good at something and to be good at it now. I want someone to tell me they'll have me. Anyone.

I need to know I'm worth something to the world.

I know I've got to go out and prove it and that noone gets anywhere for free, but at the moment, it's just shit. It's just tough, hard shit and I feel alone and alien to everyone, and I'm so incredibly pissed off that all I want to do is vomit bile on everything.

I am wondering what the point of my life is.

Despondent

There is no such thing as just one form
Fill in and out then file away in dust
Disintegrate a CV
"It's all online nowadays" to get in at the BBC
You could work for us
For free
Give away your time
Which is worth less than hers
Annihilate two decades
With a raised eyebrow and a flash of teeth
If I ask why
There's no real reason
Or I need to do more
What for?
I am ready NOW
Not later
You're all doing it wrong I say.
I hope the credit crunches you
And spits you out,
like you did me.

Hello.

I wonder what you thought of me when you opened the door.
It seemed as if I wasn't quite what you expected. Someone older, maybe. I think you thought I looked silly, a silly girl, but this is always my fear. And I know that I can look silly, with my big teeth and pale skin and red hair. I was wearing some form of bastardized school uniform; black dress, black leggings, white blouse, black pumps, boy in a dress. I arrived on a bike, so maybe you didn't think I was a consumerist materialist terrible person.

I thought you were so secure, and so confident, but then at the end you started laughing more and you said you didn't like your photo being taken. So you must feel you might fall short in some people's eyes, or not like it for yourself. So maybe you thought I was a sharp young whippersnapper. And that's why you took me out to the garden, because you feel safer there and maybe you thought I might melt in the sun.

Maybe you hate me entirely. I'd admire you, even if I didn't adore you. Maybe you thought I would judge you. I did, I judged you utterly worthy and wonderful in every way. Not that you would care what a girl wanting to be a hack reporter thinks of you. Not that you care too much, anyway.

I can't tell if you liked me more or less at the end, I think you were more convinced that I wouldn't stitch you up. I could still be stupid and make a hash of it though, I could see you thought that.

Lenny Stalker.

I met a wonderful woman. She's 36 years older than I am and she's lost her front teeth, but I think she's adorable. She runs a commune. I don't agree with her beliefs entirely. She lives her life exactly as she thinks she should and she radiates contentment, which goes deeper than happiness. She's so beautiful.

I thought she was completely secure; but she said she didn't want her photo taken. I suppose it's not nice to be put out there and seen as you don't want to be seen. But she's so lovely. I think it would shine straight off the page. But then I'm biased, I suppose. I feel I could live with her forever. I would follow her to the ends of the earth. I would.

Funny, it's so funny, that I come across as a cold person and I'm always attracted to those that are warmer. Or maybe I am warmer than I think... some think me cold. It's as if I'm leeching their warmth. I've got Raynauds disease; a bodily reminder, cold hands and cold feet that I lay on warm people, but I never get warmer myself. I just make them cold.

Though that's not what happens in reality; I'm usually left colder by the experience.

Self Piteous, ignore at a later date.

My brother is being better- he cleaned the house. He is making attempts at conversation. I hate what he did, and I don't think that he will change, so sorry is useless, and I hate what he is doing now, acting as if it never happened and getting me back on his side. I'm not on his side. I'm so angry about what he is doing. I want him to leave me well alone, or make more amends than cleaning the kitchen which is a daily job for me, done with far more vigour than he ever has. And he expects a commendation. Or a friendly word. I'll give him either when he stops shitting all over me and doing exactly what he likes without caring what I think. I couldn't care less about him.

That isn't really true, because I do care. I just can't let this go when he doesn't realise how much it's angered and annoyed me, and when he acts like this. Like he's served penance.

He had three people for a sleepover when I said he could have two, when I was working the next day and I thought three would be too noisy. Two was a compromise. But in these situations, he always oversteps the mark, and he never suffers for it. Tonight he bought another friend back. He asked me if he could. I should have said 'No'. Or 'Do you care what I think? You'll screw me over either way. You absolute shit'. Instead I said yes OK. Sometimes I just detest the passive aggressive, vindictive and spineless person that I am. Who would want me? No wonder it's noone. No wonder everyone flocks to him, the wunderkind, musical and gifted with all his wonderful friends. He isn't manipulative or unkind or strange, or spiteful. Those are my adjectives. I think they suit him too, but everyone tells me different. He's just a boy, that's from grandparents. There's always an illicit understanding that he is to be allowed certain things because he's male. I think it's infected my parents. That, or I simply didn't push the boundaries and I could have been every bit as rebellious as he was, had I had the chance or the friends.

He is just better than me.

I hate feeling like I don't measure up. But it's more and more frequent. I feel like I've wasted time and gotten nowhere and I'm not socially up to the mark, and I'm no aesthetic prize.

I just want to vomit, when I type things like this I have a lump in my throat. I've tried to be so good, at it all, I've tried so hard to measure up.

And I don't. Mediocrity is far worse than a failing.

I detest being blasted out of the water by a younger better model. Who'd have thought that I'd be writing this a decade and a half after I first felt it.

I was angry last night

Because of how my brother treated me, and it brought back childhood woes, and made me scream.

But I thought of you, and I thought of you whispering, "it's alright, don't be angry, don't be don't" and it made me feel easier and not grind my teeth. I thought of winding my fingers round dyed blonde corkscrew curls and your tiny teeth and the way you wrinkle your nose when you smile. I thought of how happy and modest and self-deprecating you are, how you look like a basking cat.

A woman I work with and admire told me today that my article was good and that she liked my hair. I was happier about the first thing, which made me glad. I was glad of the compliments and of the scale that they took in my mind.

And today I ate:

three biscuits-400
A potato and mushroom bake-400
two slices of toast-300
a smoothie-100
apricots-50

which is not too bad.

Someone different but I feel the same.

It's a girl I know through a friend. We see each other a few times a year, never alone, and less since University ended. But I think she's utterly wonderful. She's comfortable and loud and excited and funny and kind. She makes me feel comfortable, and I have only met her a few times. She is a warm person, in nature and physicality. She's not in the least pretentious. I think she's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, but then, I always do. Little Bird is beautiful; but when I adore someone properly then it's as if they're surrounded by a glimmer. And it's her at the moment. I don't hope for a minute that it's reciprocal or that anything will happen.

We all were watching the Graduate, and the seduction scenes came on. "I don't think I could ever seduce anyone," she said. She was happy about it even, thinking of how ludicrous the idea of her seducing others could be. But she doesn't know that she's seduced me, truly and utterly, without ever even trying. She's got curly hair and a happy face and cat's eyes, and she's completely infectious. I want to hold her more than anything.