Monday, 6 April 2009
Shining light.
It was the last of the April crisp days when we met on the heath. The northern places seemed to stay barren longer than other places, and the twigs on the trees reached like fingers for my skirts in the darkling day. I saw her coming over the dried mud and yellowed grass before she saw me. She hacked her way through the bushes and waved at me. I extended an arm to wave back. She was wearing wellingtons and a long white dress, and a red cardigan. The dress was as white as her skin, an extension of her flapping limbs. She looked like a child playing, though she was too old for that really.
Green judgement and cold blood.
clementines-40
pasta-350
400
smoothie-150
lemon pie -300
450
an oreo-50
apricots-100
200
a cornish pasty and spinach-600
2 bites of licorice-50
brownie-150
1600, if I have estimated correctly. I've got a nagging feeling that that's not all.
Tomorrow I have made myself a salad. Salad days. I hope B's salad days aren't over, because I still want to be green in judgement and cold in blood with her, but now we can't joke and I find it hard to mention my own mother, who is in rude health (there's never been a more apt expression). I am glad she is, but I hate that B hasn't got that as well. Touch wood, touch wood, toughen up because I can't do anything.
pasta-350
400
smoothie-150
lemon pie -300
450
an oreo-50
apricots-100
200
a cornish pasty and spinach-600
2 bites of licorice-50
brownie-150
1600, if I have estimated correctly. I've got a nagging feeling that that's not all.
Tomorrow I have made myself a salad. Salad days. I hope B's salad days aren't over, because I still want to be green in judgement and cold in blood with her, but now we can't joke and I find it hard to mention my own mother, who is in rude health (there's never been a more apt expression). I am glad she is, but I hate that B hasn't got that as well. Touch wood, touch wood, toughen up because I can't do anything.
Sunday, 5 April 2009
Everything is fiction, all cynic to the bone, so don't ask me to stay with you. Don't ask to see me home.
I ate another piece of cake, so another 200, but I also walked 4.1 miles, so I've burned off 300, about. I've ate 1400.
Savage.
The world is too savage. It's far too much.
Savage.
The world is too savage. It's far too much.
Now there's a lifestyle, with painted lips.
Everybody wants it, but it don't exist.
Eating today:
some doritos-60
cake and strawberries-470
530
soup and bread-300
apricots-100
a bit of cake-70
mozarella and tomato salad-130
600
cheese-75
1200.
I have ate 4 portions of fruit and veg.
I still keep thinking about B.
When I have those thoughts I want to be held by someone soft and strong and kind, unexpectedly. I have spent most of today thinking about her to try and block out thinking about B. It's silly to be so caught up on it, or is it? I don't know. I'll have to tell my parents.
She said, "I have this unhappiness to wear around my neck. It’s a pretty piece of jewellery to show what I protect."
Savage.
This business of metastatic symptoms is far too savage for someone as soft as you are, B.
Metastasis, it's a lovely word. It sounds like cicida, or something unfurling and developing. It means changing and moving, but in relation to disease it spells out something not benign.
Now there's a lifestyle, with painted lips. Well, there's a lifestyle, everybody wants it but it don't exist.
Please, just hold me and be tender, I need something soft because I'm feeling so helpless to aid anyone. If I feel like this, how must B feel? I feel like it's inappropriate to laugh or be happy or anything like that, though that's not what she's said.
Eating today:
some doritos-60
cake and strawberries-470
530
soup and bread-300
apricots-100
a bit of cake-70
mozarella and tomato salad-130
600
cheese-75
1200.
I have ate 4 portions of fruit and veg.
I still keep thinking about B.
When I have those thoughts I want to be held by someone soft and strong and kind, unexpectedly. I have spent most of today thinking about her to try and block out thinking about B. It's silly to be so caught up on it, or is it? I don't know. I'll have to tell my parents.
She said, "I have this unhappiness to wear around my neck. It’s a pretty piece of jewellery to show what I protect."
Savage.
This business of metastatic symptoms is far too savage for someone as soft as you are, B.
Metastasis, it's a lovely word. It sounds like cicida, or something unfurling and developing. It means changing and moving, but in relation to disease it spells out something not benign.
Now there's a lifestyle, with painted lips. Well, there's a lifestyle, everybody wants it but it don't exist.
Please, just hold me and be tender, I need something soft because I'm feeling so helpless to aid anyone. If I feel like this, how must B feel? I feel like it's inappropriate to laugh or be happy or anything like that, though that's not what she's said.
Saturday, 4 April 2009
When I'm worried about everything I want to huddle into your shoulder. I can imagine you'd be quiet, or you'd say something about your Granddad and what I could do. My first reaction was to look it up and find out what the chances were, and then to think for a long time before producing the silliest message, it wasn't even properly grammatised.
I think of how happy she was a week or so ago. She said that her mother wanted to teach her how to peel a potato without a peeler, because she was worried that she wouldn't know how and she'd get embarrassed at a friend's house. There are all those little things that you should have forever to teach your daughter. The fact of a year is the biggest whack; it's put a definite timescale on it. Knowing your own mortality is the fact of it; you can't pretend you're immortal because it's a definite, a definite day.
I think of how happy she was a week or so ago. She said that her mother wanted to teach her how to peel a potato without a peeler, because she was worried that she wouldn't know how and she'd get embarrassed at a friend's house. There are all those little things that you should have forever to teach your daughter. The fact of a year is the biggest whack; it's put a definite timescale on it. Knowing your own mortality is the fact of it; you can't pretend you're immortal because it's a definite, a definite day.
Some days aren't yours at all.
Eating today
Marks and Spencer's salad-400
a lindor chocolate-60
an oreo-50
a smoothie-100
B's Mum has been diagnosed with metastatic cancer. She's got a year. B is being herself, practical and strong, but I can read the notes of desperation, or panic, or sadness... or all three, because these are what she must be feeling. Her Dad discusses plant life with her, and not much else. How will she cope? How will the house look after her Mum's gone? I keep picturing her at the funeral, though it's off a year away, and I keep thinking about how she must be feeling. She doesn't want anyone to ring, which is just as well because I would be terrible at that, and I just want to see her and give her a hug. I can't stop thinking about it, which must be small fry compared to the occupation of her thoughts. I sent her a message back, but I didn't know what to say really; I just didn't want her to have to go through it. Saying that is pointless because she has to, and it makes no difference. I can't listen to music or dance or smile without thinking, I bet she doesn't feel like smiling. We watched Colder than Here in second year, and thinking about the way that that woman dies, she's worried about being found because your bowels evacuate. B's Mum wouldn't like that. B wouldn't like that, but she might well be there when it happens. She sent me a message... because her best friend is away, so was I the one? Did I do well? Should I have rung her anyway, but I didn't want to because she said not to, but maybe she wants me to.
I'm grateful for my work, because I can't think about her all the time then. Correcting mistakes and lending pens and explanations take my mind off it, but she can't- she's studying, and literature's full of morbid deaths. Studying lends to mind wandering as well, it's not a focus because it's self-led.
Last night I went out with R and a bellicose male told us that 'you've got more to learn from her than she has from you', on the basis that R didn't pay as much to go to school as I did. She's more resilient and streetwise, apparently. This is true, but not because of the money; R's Mum is paranoid, and she spent a lot of sixth form caring for her, if not before. So she knows how to run a house; but I know that too, and I have worked, and I resent the implication that I am naive or stupid because I happen to have more money. This irked me tremendously. Why have I got to learn? Why have either of us got to learn from each other? It's something you do anyway, learn from friends; it shouldn't be used as a measure to beat someone with. It's not as if I am rich; I share a room with my sister. People describe my house as cosy. I know how to live. R said he was a repulsive man, with a chip on his shoulder. There are grains of truth in his opinions, but not for the right reasons.
Marks and Spencer's salad-400
a lindor chocolate-60
an oreo-50
a smoothie-100
B's Mum has been diagnosed with metastatic cancer. She's got a year. B is being herself, practical and strong, but I can read the notes of desperation, or panic, or sadness... or all three, because these are what she must be feeling. Her Dad discusses plant life with her, and not much else. How will she cope? How will the house look after her Mum's gone? I keep picturing her at the funeral, though it's off a year away, and I keep thinking about how she must be feeling. She doesn't want anyone to ring, which is just as well because I would be terrible at that, and I just want to see her and give her a hug. I can't stop thinking about it, which must be small fry compared to the occupation of her thoughts. I sent her a message back, but I didn't know what to say really; I just didn't want her to have to go through it. Saying that is pointless because she has to, and it makes no difference. I can't listen to music or dance or smile without thinking, I bet she doesn't feel like smiling. We watched Colder than Here in second year, and thinking about the way that that woman dies, she's worried about being found because your bowels evacuate. B's Mum wouldn't like that. B wouldn't like that, but she might well be there when it happens. She sent me a message... because her best friend is away, so was I the one? Did I do well? Should I have rung her anyway, but I didn't want to because she said not to, but maybe she wants me to.
I'm grateful for my work, because I can't think about her all the time then. Correcting mistakes and lending pens and explanations take my mind off it, but she can't- she's studying, and literature's full of morbid deaths. Studying lends to mind wandering as well, it's not a focus because it's self-led.
Last night I went out with R and a bellicose male told us that 'you've got more to learn from her than she has from you', on the basis that R didn't pay as much to go to school as I did. She's more resilient and streetwise, apparently. This is true, but not because of the money; R's Mum is paranoid, and she spent a lot of sixth form caring for her, if not before. So she knows how to run a house; but I know that too, and I have worked, and I resent the implication that I am naive or stupid because I happen to have more money. This irked me tremendously. Why have I got to learn? Why have either of us got to learn from each other? It's something you do anyway, learn from friends; it shouldn't be used as a measure to beat someone with. It's not as if I am rich; I share a room with my sister. People describe my house as cosy. I know how to live. R said he was a repulsive man, with a chip on his shoulder. There are grains of truth in his opinions, but not for the right reasons.
Wednesday, 1 April 2009
Today I ate:
an apple-40
chocolate cake (small piece)-100
1/2 a baguette with tomato puree and cheese on it-350
500
rice and vegetables-250
a smoothie (pineapple, mango and grape juice)-150
some muesli-200
1100
You said, today, "well, it's inevitable, you're always going to compare yourself to your sister aren't you?" It's true. I worry that mine is cleverer than me, without the added attention. She's going to be prettier than I am. She's musically gifted and taller, and probably thinner, and I suppose she'll be predisposed to anorexia, being a perfectionist. The things I care about aren't the ones that are obvious; I care about her being cleverer without input, and being a perfectionist, but I'm starting to care less about physical traits, not that I could have been jealous of her because she's more like a daughter; I take glee in her accomplishments.
The girl we were discussing has been unfavourably compared. I suppose that because me and my sister are fairly similar, we only draw comments on what's the same about us- or if anyone has remarked on it, it hasn't been to my face. It would be different if we'd been chalk and cheese.
It made me wonder if you've got a sister that you compare yourself to incessantly. A pretty one? A very clever one? Both? I wonder if people see in MCT what they see that's vulnerable in themselves; Mercury sees a successful sister complex, RA sees someone that's ostracised from their peers, I see someone scared of getting it wrong because she's scared of people. I don't think she's got much ability. My first thought was genital mutilation, though that hasn't happened to me, but I suppose it says something about my mind.
So, are you compared or comparing yourself to someone you can never live up to? I don't know. I wish I could tell you that you're prime, but I think you like AG. And maybe she likes you too. You talked to her about her son today, you used careful vowels and pronounced consonants to ask about diagnoses; you don't with me, you're careful with her. Because you like and respect her or because she scares you, or all of the above?
an apple-40
chocolate cake (small piece)-100
1/2 a baguette with tomato puree and cheese on it-350
500
rice and vegetables-250
a smoothie (pineapple, mango and grape juice)-150
some muesli-200
1100
You said, today, "well, it's inevitable, you're always going to compare yourself to your sister aren't you?" It's true. I worry that mine is cleverer than me, without the added attention. She's going to be prettier than I am. She's musically gifted and taller, and probably thinner, and I suppose she'll be predisposed to anorexia, being a perfectionist. The things I care about aren't the ones that are obvious; I care about her being cleverer without input, and being a perfectionist, but I'm starting to care less about physical traits, not that I could have been jealous of her because she's more like a daughter; I take glee in her accomplishments.
The girl we were discussing has been unfavourably compared. I suppose that because me and my sister are fairly similar, we only draw comments on what's the same about us- or if anyone has remarked on it, it hasn't been to my face. It would be different if we'd been chalk and cheese.
It made me wonder if you've got a sister that you compare yourself to incessantly. A pretty one? A very clever one? Both? I wonder if people see in MCT what they see that's vulnerable in themselves; Mercury sees a successful sister complex, RA sees someone that's ostracised from their peers, I see someone scared of getting it wrong because she's scared of people. I don't think she's got much ability. My first thought was genital mutilation, though that hasn't happened to me, but I suppose it says something about my mind.
So, are you compared or comparing yourself to someone you can never live up to? I don't know. I wish I could tell you that you're prime, but I think you like AG. And maybe she likes you too. You talked to her about her son today, you used careful vowels and pronounced consonants to ask about diagnoses; you don't with me, you're careful with her. Because you like and respect her or because she scares you, or all of the above?
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