[I don't know if this is going to be too sad and introspective for me to bear so I might just tail off half way through]

I can't even write any more, and that's all I used to do and it's killing me because I can't ever articulate what I want without making myself sound silly and then I get scared and delete pages and pages of writing and the bottom of my bin is full of ash and burn bits of my journal and I hate this. I feel silly for being so attached to something that shouldn't be that important, there are much more productive ways to spend one's time but I can't find one to really engage me properly so I always end up scratching my thoughts out on paper in spiky writing and then crying a lot. I think a lot of things that used to be so important to me aren't any more and I feel like I only really have one or two priorities that I really want to excel at and I can't even do them without feeling stupid and useless.

I think being in love is as consuming a hobby as any that you could have, I don't know, my head kind of feels full all the time and it's so heavy and it's tinting all my thoughts and it's making me think about myself and it's making me more sad and I'm not sure why. It's nice but I just feel so heavy all the time and it makes me want to scream because I can't express it properly and I'm constantly in pain because you know when you just want to be with someone all the time because they make you feel more okay than you possibly thought you could ever feel and then you realise that you can't see them and you heart kind of cracks and I'm shattered and I don't want this to carry on. But being in love engulfs you, I want to romanticise all of this and make it sound less like word vomit but I don't think I really can, like I want to cry all the time but happy tears if that makes any sense and I feel so unbalanced and like I'm sort of teetering on the edge of falling into the same sort of state I was in, in may.

Looking back on things that aren't so important to me now though, I think that I've kind of changed in terms of what inspires me, I used to check style.com religiously every day after school and during break, during fashion week I'd take days off school and watch shows live in my bedroom under my duvet and I'd cover my walls with cut outs from the fashion week editions of ELLE and VOGUE and that just made me so so happy just because it was pure inspiration, taken straight from some creative wonders like McQueen and Galliano and i don't know, I kind of stopped that after I started using my tumblr blog, when i started i was still totally in love with the idea of runway fashion, and now I've just stopped. looking back now, Alexander McQueen, rest in peace, is passed and now, this sounds totally irrational and stupid, but I miss him, even for just four years, his collections were all I really though about come A/W or S/S season, seriously, I'd buy two copies of the magazines so I could keep one in perfect condition and then cut one up for my walls, and it was exactly the same for Galliano for Dior, I just had such a passion for it and now it's just gone.

I think I just miss being passionate about something, all I ever get passionate about is writing and I'm sure no one is really interested in this, I know I'm no good but I just love it and it's kind of heart breaking that I'm not good at the one thing I totally love.

I've just changed, in more ways that one I guess, two people who were major parts of my life have now gone, that's the most painful part I think, is that they can't come back, and that changed me I suppose, like I'm not hardened to it or anything, but I've gotten used to having heart ache all the time and I'm used to my head being full of messy, painful thoughts and now being sad inspires me so much more than being happy which I don't think is a good thing but I just hope that sometime this year or maybe in the next I'll find something that makes me passionate and hopefully I'll be good at it and then I might be happier.

1949

I have an independent capability of being extremely angry and pessimistic and dark and twisty a lot of the time, normally it's just directed at the 'world' in general, but mostly at myself. I hate the way i am most of the time and my head is full of thought and most of it is irrepressibly painful and horrible and what has happened this year has seemed so rushed and it feels like it should still be after May because everything that has panned out since then has been so empty and nothing-y. Days seem to be fading into one another now and it's painful thinking about what I'm missing and what I should be doing but I feel so empty and I can't seem to muster the energy to help myself. I think I'm quite resentful towards some people after what happened this year, there are probably two or three people that I can really talk to about it, with them understanding, and I have done, but they don't live near or we don't talk as much as we used to and that's kind of awful because that means I'm stuck inside my own head for weeks on end and then I get bitter because 'no one understands me' or whatever this is but it's just I'm so sad still and I don't really feel like I can talk to anyone about it.

This year though, this will be different, there will be nothing as awful or horrific and I will work harder in school and I won't be as twisty and dark and awful and I'll stop lying to myself and I'll try and fall in love with someone who could be considered more 'realistic' than Matthew Crawley, or maybe I won't fall in love and I'll be fine with that too, there seems to be a certain air of uncertainty about this year though. Maybe, mainly because everyone seems to be a bit on edge because there seems to be a million different theories saying how we're all going to fall into the bottomless abyss and be sentenced to eternal hell-fire. I will start this year however, by reading The Colour Purple and then watching Wuthering Heights and tomorrow I will use the rest of my Polaroid film I got and then I will maybe feel better.