Jesus, are drugs even worth it?

I'm trying to get hold of some; it's caused trouble between a friend and me (I'll call him Bloom), who's getting hold of it but feels anxious- and I nearly bungled it tonight by inviting in an unknown, who could get him into trouble, and me into trouble...

I am attracted to safe people. Yet this is such a dangerous thing. We're going to have to cut it in his car, so we need to find a secluded spot, where noone will suspect... taking it, I'm not so worried about. I think that part will be fine. But what if something goes wrong, what if I need to tell someone their son's died because of what I encouraged, what if?

Fundamentalism.

I am fundamentally attracted to people I feel safe with. The moment the safeness stops, I stop liking.

She's a fundamentalist, Lady of the House. No alcohol, no guns, no war. She banned her children from having toy guns. She said he was obsessed with them anyway; I asked, serious, whether he still was, and she looked at me as if I was teasing and said no. I usually tease, but not always. I wonder what my parental ethos is on that, guns I mean. They don't really ban things. They wouldn't like us to smoke under their roof, and I know they wouldn't be happy about drugs, but then they've encouraged us to try a bit of alcohol since we were tiny- three or four. They never ban things, reasoning that if they bring us up right we'll decide for ourselves. I wonder what they'd think if I brought home a chinless wonder, keen on the monarchy and shooting. They're usually a marker of right and wrong.

Then there's that other form of fundamentalism she so disagrees with. I wonder if you can only change the world if you're fundamental? Mum and Dad think I'm a black and white person, but really I can't decide. I'm all shades of grey about everything, only when I admit to it that seems to lead to wavering and failure and being shot down.

Bloom's guessed I've got a crush on her- I denied it. I said it was admiration, which it is, but it's more still. I can't stop talking about her. I think she's brilliant. I want to be around her, and yet... there's so much of me she'd disapprove of. This drug business, for one. Alcohol intake (though mine's nowhere near excessive).

Yet, she thinks I'm 'lovely'. Mum spoke to her inadvertently the other day, and said she was sure (though you have to lie to people about their children, really. She couldn't have said I was abrasive or annoying or horrible).

Oh, sort it all out. Do the calorie count, then talk about walking.

I ate:

a piece of toast
a bowl of muesli
a slice of pizza
apricots

It's 550 to here.

a mushroom
cous cous salad-200
some flapjack and chocolate-300

some apple crumble
a mentos
two m and ms- I'm going for 150 on this in total.

Ok, so 1200. I also drank a fair bit tonight, but I went on a big walk- 4.5 miles, and I walked back and danced a lot too. And worried, and smoked.

Now let's talk about walking.

It's brilliant. It clears my mind and makes me feel so much better about everything, no matter what it is or how horrible. I feel like I'm just going to keep walking till I get there, wherever there is. I walked back tonight, it's about a mile, on my own. The birds were out, so were a collection of vans and construction men doing railway work. When there were a lot of them, I felt safe- but when a lone white van passed me and hooted, I felt terrified. Would they try to bundle me in? They didn't. I carried on. The birds seemed surprised- they stepped into my path as if they'd been occupying that space on the pavement every morning, and they didn't usually find it being stomped by me in my grey and black. I must seem terrifying to a bird. I was hyper-alert- to windscreen wiper thwacks, bits of tarpaulin, the drips under the motorway sounding. I was scared- girls are taught, boys too, never walk alone after dark. It felt like the world was just about to come to life, with the birds chirping and the men and the orange-purple horizon, that I felt new and fresh too, like tonight didn't happen and I was uncomplicated again, and idealistic.

It's alright. Relationships can be salvaged. I am not under strain. I feel isolated, quite suddenly and quite shockingly. Like me and Bloom are in our own intense cloud, and I'm not so sure I like it just with him. He's more dangerous- no, more clued up- than I believed. And more forceful. I want everyone to be friends, just the same amount. I didn't realise how accustomed I'd become to our little dynamic, the four of us plus extras, whoever turns up. I couldn't have seen this coming.

Drugs mean you can't just be friends. Calling in favours, watching each other's back, paying, collecting, sorting, taking. Before, it was just going in and being sure someone else would. Now I've got to, and it's terrifying.

I was really happy this morning, having walked, having been with her, and having been able to say no, because she's a hard person to say no to. She wanted me to help with a demonstration; and I don't like to until I've researched it. She thought that this was because I wanted to be well informed, for passers-by. It's actually because I want to come to my own conclusion instead of anyone else's. I haven't researched. I'm lazy. I would feel shy, volunteering in public. I wouldn't feel shy being with her in public. I'd be proud.

She sent me a message, it ended love. She does that with other people's too, but with mine. I know she doesn't mean it love. I like to read it and kid myself. She said she wasn't on her own in the end. I never thought she would be on her own, but now I think about it, she's so into causes and factors and things- it's all so inextricably bound up with her. You can't love her without loving her causes too, really. And I do, I adore her, but I don't want to follow her on a say-so.

This is all postulation because she hasn't asked me to.

I think she really is on her own. She doesn't make friends because she's a brilliant person- though she is- she makes them because of causes. Or to do with causes. I'd like to be a cause-less friend. A friend totally divided from her politics. Mine are similar to hers, perhaps not quite so ardent, but similar. I would like to think my friends like me because of who I am, not my causes; but then, would I be interested in what I'm interested in if I wasn't who I am?

I would like to be in a play, and invite her to see it.

Leporine- of, relating to, or resembling a hare or rabbit.

Matitudinal- relating to the morning.

A beatific matitudinal glow. Not always. You look crumpled in the morning, but content. Beatific is right. Benevolent. You trot in with a smile, as if it's no trouble, no trouble at all, to be awake at quarter past seven every day. Maybe you are matitudinal- a morning person- but then you stay awake at night too, baking and making marzipan. You never look weary, though you do look tired, but you're always energetic about something, but calm too. It's confusing to try and describe you. I like the way you laugh. It's a surprised little hiccup, you show your bottom teeth and sometimes the top, if we're very lucky.

You look like a hedgehog. You're lovely.