Boredom.

The feeling I've been dealing with mostly lately is boredom. I feel bored, practically all the time. And I know there's the whole deal about 'only boring people get bored' and you have to create your own fun, blah blah, but it's difficult for me. Somedays I feel that I'm not in an enough of an intellectually stimulating environment. I don't feel my brain expanding or anything changing in me. So I hardly attend lectures because I find them dull and repetitive. And seminars, those are compulsory but even those I find hard to attend. I just sit there and think 'what the hell am I here for?'

I'm not sure if this has something to do with the change I've undergone lately: I've stopped believing in everything I have happily accepted before. Morality, ethics, a great purpose...

Most nights I find myself on the windowsill smoking my cigarettes and listening to music. And going out there and doing something just feels so purposeless. I mean it's not like I don't have things to do. I am buried in assignments and courseworks right now, and then there's people who I have been neglecting I admit, and the cinema, and everything else. But I just sit here instead. And I write too. I am writing my novel, which right now feels better than ever. I have come such a long way. When I started it I was a confused fourteen year old, and here I am now, practically an adult, and so much of it makes sense and I finally know where I'm going with it. It's been 5 years!

But still, boredom is like an illness you need to cure I guess. Over and over again.

Boredom, do you think it's a sickness?

Someday love will finally be enough

I'm no romantic. In fact, most days I don't even know what love is, or if I believe in it. I guess deep inside I don't because it's too easy. And I haven't really seen it work. But when I hear him laugh, its like the whole universe lights up. Because although we change and grow, our laughter stays the same. And here he is, fifteen years later, laughing just like he did when he was six, and I feel time evaporate and the world gain some purpose. I once wrote that there is no purpose in life, but some things matter enough to keep going. He matters enough for me to keep going. If only he was closer though... Maybe then my constant boredom of life would finally dissipate because I'd know what I was living for, I'd know that my days aren't empty, that there's a point to them, because I'm with him. Funny, I just said that I'm no romantic.

I found a new favorite place in the world. Sitting on my windowsill, lights off, music on, the night crawling in on me, the cigarette in my hands and words in my eyes. I dont know what I feel most the time. It's like I'm sad over something that's not there, like if when I was little someone stole something from me, and if only I could figure out what that something is. Then I could claim it back. But I don't know, and I have to live without it. I don't mind sadness really, it's inspiring. Happiness generates nothing in me. I don't know how to define it even. Maybe this still sadness is my happiness. Maybe.

It's sad because when I was child I believed in morals and values and I was convinced, I would fight to the death, for all these concepts that seemed so real. But now morality doesn't exist, there is no such thing. There is nothing absolute. There is just doubt and human ambition, and the desire to achieve something unachievable. I wish for certainty in a world of uncertainty. I wish for impossible things.

Most love stories dont work out because there's too many people who believe they should have a say in what happens. God, do cigarettes add perspective to life. I feel like cigarettes are the only constant part of my life. And in my age, I need that certainty, of there being something, at least one thing, that no one can take away from me.

I remembered the sea shelled chocolates my grandmother used to give us when we were little. Each was like a treat in itself. And then I remembered that that is a memory from over fifteen years ago. And it will never happen again. Time is like a speeding race car, and you're inside it, and if only you could get out and stay, if only it could go ahead without you and you could stay in something beautiful. If only I didnt have to keep driving.

I bought my first cigarette pack today. Life's too fucking stressful.

The leaves are yellow outside my window, it's autumn and it's beautiful. There's so much beauty out there but tonight all I see is sadness. But it's a nice kind of sadness because it's the sadness of having tried but failed. But the attempt matters more than the fall. Today I went through my third break-up. I looked in his loving eyes, this beautiful boy who if let, would give me the universe, and then I said it. And it scares me because I cannot figure out whether I'm just broken, unable to feel anything and that I'll live my whole life dreaming of something bigger and always conforming for something small, or whether there's a reason for why I have to wait. And if it's that, then that's fine, I'll wait forever if I have to, I told you before Peter, haven't I? But if it's not... I'm just so afraid to be dissapointed. I'm afraid that I'm doing something wrong.

There's this boy in New York city and I love him... and I guess nothing else matters that much. Because regardless of how cynical any one of us really is, love obliterates that. It creates a romantic out of every cynic.

I don’t know how to be something you miss…

You gave me roses and I left them there to die

Listening to Taylor Swift's new album 'Speak now' is making me wish for something great, for something really really great. I've never really been the kind of girl to jump head first into love, not that I was ever put in a position where I could have done that. I grew up amongst a messy divorce and for an 8 year old I saw too much and heard too many conversations, and so childhood taught me that life is messy, men can be terrible people, and hearts break too easily. I was taught to not be stupid. I was taught to stay safe and to put my interests above those of men. I was never taught to love. To recklessly love... And here I am listening to these beautiful words and some of the lyrics I want to engrave in my skin and carry around with me like precious pebbles, because they're so alive, so real and so young. That's youth, isn't it? That's loving without looking ahead, living for today and not tomorrow, what we're meant to be doing. What I never did because something inside me taught me not to. And I listen and I envy her, I envy her ability to be so beautiful and young, and I envy her for feeling so much. I envy those girls who loved, and love, and will keep doing it in spite of everything that tells them not to.

I feel so old, so grown up and way ahead of my own age. It's almost like I'm just looking at all these kids around me and I don't feel like a part of it, because I'm not a child, because my innocence left me before it had time to join me, and because I taught my heart to behave and never gave it freedom to be reckless.

I wish for love, for feeling something immense and for the inability to be rational because rationality ceases to exist and there is no definition for right and wrong. I want to fall in love. I want you, Peter Pan, there's something inside me that tells me that you're the reason why it never worked in the past. Because it wasn't meant to. All that was meant to be is you. All that is meant to be, is you.