*burps*

In a way of apologising for the previous entry I'm going to try and write down some rambly thoughts and see where it takes me.

First off, actors/actresses in Eastenders are so goddamn awful. I mean seriously, when they're angry they think acting is raising the temper and flapping their arms around. If another person is in the room and they're having an argument with them then anger is standing up and raising their voices. The flapping of the arms is only when really angry if you're with someone else. Oh and, of course, the obligatory flapping of arms.

Hahahahahaha. The funniest scene just now; Lisa trying out a handgun. Squinting her eyes and pointing at a wall. A wall. Oh funny.

I'm not wearing a bra today, and why not I say. Why not? I mean.. yeah it feels really freaky and when (for no reason, I swear, there was no good looking guy in front of me and I was not thinking sexy thoughts) my nipples hardened in the middle of the road what can you do? What can you do except walk down the road with pride, and with your arms folded solidly against yer chest.

They really can't act in Eastenders. I'm so bored I'm watching it. Sheesh kebab.

I've started this new health regime, of sorts. I'm going to eat salad more often, so at least once every other day. So now my mum is making me salads, which rocks. Hopefully it will last and mean less of the junk intake.

I'm watching Stargate SG-1 cos Eastenders finished, this is much better than Eastenders, or at least IT BETTER BE.

Can I just say, and let me hope he doesn't read this (but he might), that Jason .. wow. I'm in awe of him. I can't explain why but just his sense of self is weird, yet suits him perfectly. I can't explain really, but I know what I mean and I think he rawks. The fact he likes Curly Wurly's has NO influence over my opinion. Ahem.

Erm. It was a 'car-free day' in my town. (Leytonstone) And what bollocks. I refused to partake in it. Haha. Not that there was much for a teenager like me, who also isn't a skater *rolls eyes*, to actually do. I think the most excitement was the French Market, which knowing my town was a couple of hobos dressed in a blue and white stripy jumper with an onion necklace because the organisers though that was authentic.

When I went out about half an hour ago to get a drink and my bus pass I saw the road blockade, then remember how buses are having to be diverted. How pissed off would be if you was a bus driver and were being diverted so a hobo could act french for the day!? I mean, it's bad enough it is a FRENCH Market, and therefore linked to France, but the fact is... the bus drivers had to go a different route. So now I think me and the bus drivers have an understanding. We are now bruvas and we shall never argue again because they will know that I did not partake in this carfree (and bus free) day in Leytonstone.

However I have a feeling tomorrow I will, once again, be forty five minutes early for college because I'm too fucking paranoid and the bus system here in London sucks. A big gaboozle of sucking. By cleeps.

Yeh, you heard me, Cleeps.

My new plan of today (and maybe the week the way I'm going) is to become a lone traveller, almost like a nomad, and almost like a gypsy (they have cool clothes and pieces of random material). What I am going to do is travel all over, collecting and storing and hording a shitload of stuff (I don't think you spell hording like that but you do know what I mean) and I'm going to be alone. I'm not going to have any contact with anyone and I'm going to walk. I'm going to walk down dusty paths in Asia with no houses near me and not a person in sight, I'm going to walk and think and talk to myself.

I'm going to make peace with myself and drive myself further and further away from all human contact, therefore proving I have not made peace with myself.

I'm going to discard all luxeries and just live on what I can. Earn money by working for a day, saving some for tickets to another land. But walking constantly, never stopping, never thinking for a moment of anyone else. A year or two will pass and when I return to my home I'll be unrecognisable.

With my hair tied back with some scrap of material (my hair long and down to my lower back because haircutting is a luxery I can't afford). I'll be calm and returning home won't help me. Maybe I'll discover my place, where I belong. Maybe I'll find someone who actually cares, or maybe I will actually ignore the rest of civilisation.

In Tibet I'll climb a high mountain and rest at a monastry.

I can't wait. Such a long entry today. I am sorry. But this is my dream. This is what I would love to do. And maybe it is also a story that I would love to write because it would be my imagination and my hope. (That is what I want to do)

Does anyone read this anymore? Am I typing to a blank screen once again?

[[edit]]

My mum just told me I'm going out for dinner tonight. How do I forget such things? Heh.