'Marrying a woman for her beauty makes no more sense than eating a bird for its singing. But it's a common mistake nontheless.'

Cooooo.

Man. It has been a weird day. I started trying to write something at least twice earlier on, but both times was in such an unfocussed rage that the words came out in a jumbled mess, together with an unsightly spattering of curse-words. While still incredibly frustrated, at least now I feel I can articulate my thoughts without saying fuck every other word.

Actually, that's a lie, because I don't even know what I want to articulate. Again, frustration. I think I'm going to have to give up and settle for thought-fragments here.

I'm frustrated because I'm stuck in this place for the Easter holidays, with nothing to do and no friends near by to talk to or do nothing with, while everyone else (by the looks of feverish facebook-stalking) apparently has a jam-packed agenda of cool stuff on the cards.

I'm frustrated because I know this isn't true, but moreso because this has never been such an issue before. Obviously, I've got bored and lonely during the holidays before- everyone does, right?- but I've never felt like this. I've never been so angry-frustrated. I felt like screaming, like smashing things, like stabbing myself in the eye just for the novel excitement of a noisy ambulance ride. (Plus I'd look hot with an eye-patch, right?) If I feel so crazy after just three days of being home on my own, how the Hell am I going to cope in the Summer- or the rest of my life for that matter? People can't be there all the time. I wouldn't expect, or want, people to be there all the time. Not really. So what is my problem?

I've always had a feeling of contempt towards people who don't seem to be able to cope with being on their own, and now apparently I am one of them.

I'm frustrated because I feel I may as well be thirteen years-old again. Same story of trying to work and failing. Same bus route. Same 'entertainments' in town. (Same feelings of existential angst, same feelings of self-disgust for sharing them in such a pretentious manner that, nonetheless, do little to shut me up...) I'm twenty years old, and what have I got to show for it? I haven't achieved anything worthwhile, haven't seen anything of note. But then I don't know what I expect myself to have done by now; should I have travelled the world? Set up my own multi-national business enterprise? Had a near-death experience and turned to God as a result? I really don't know.

My mum had been married for over a year by the time she was my age. What's that like- to fall in love with such force and such certainty that you get married when you're 18 years old? And, more interestingly- to me anyway- when did she realise that she'd made a mistake, how did she cope with it then, and how has she kept on coping with it way up til now?

I don't know anything at all about my parents really; very little about them as people, let alone more intimate details like how they met and married. That frustrates me.

I'm frustrated because I couldn't sleep, due to the tight knot of tension taking up my insides. Hence my writing this now at 1am.

I'm frustrated because my stupid dog ate my favourite pencil!!

There are more frustrations, but I'm getting tired now, and I feel a bit better anyway. Which is the main thing, I suppose. Hopefully I'll go to sleep near instantly, then when I wake in the morning, I'll be refreshed and ready to face life again without scowling.

If not, I think what I really need is a good smack 'round the head.

(NB: content in this entry is quite probably clichéd/pretentious (because nothing else I ever write on here is clichéd or pretentious, right?). But I go by the theory that most of the time, if something is clichéd, that is because it is actually true. Also it is my birthday so I can say and do what I want.)

So today I am twenty! Those terrible, treacherous teenage years are officially behind me and, while my next birthday is considered by society as the more momentous one, I still think today is pretty important really. TWENTY YEARS. There have been times, in my angstier phases, where I honestly thought I wouldn't get this far. Luckily, seems I am in fact a pretty emotionally-balanced individual, so I have not felt that low in a very, very long time. In fact, I would say that right now is the most happy in myself that I have ever been. Not only am I surrounded by a whole bunch of fantastic friends, but I am satisfied with who I am as a person- obviously there are occasional hiccups, but I'm capable of working those out now and moving on. In the end, I believe that being able to do that for yourself, and not being dependent on other people for feelings of validation as a human being, are what make you successful. Which I would think is pretty obvious, really.

But yes, I am hugely lucky to know a lot of people who all make me happy in their own particular ways. From the best friends I have known for years, to the people I only chat to occasionally in lectures, by way of good new friends I've made over the past year and a bit- you are all fantastic, and help brighten my days. (Not knowing who actually reads this makes it easier to be so soppy, it's not my natural state...) And in light of a couple of 'recent developments', special mention must go not only to one particular boy who makes me extremely happy, but to another who has always been a brilliant friend and all-round awesome person despite what has happened between us in the past.

Really, you are all SUPER. Thank you all for existing!