an I do howl at the moon, I go barking at dogs, take of all me clothes, an lie out in the bog
2002-09-15 || 8:12 p.m.

The strangest thing.

I'm sort of, almost, happy.

There's no definable reason for this but I'm just not fucking scared anymore.

I've spent my whole life being scared. Scared of my mum. Scared of that stupid man and being alone with him. Scared because I was a freak and had no friends. Scared of being hit, verbally abused. Scared of being alone.

I'm just not scared anymore.

Fucking hell.

I've just spent an hour and a half in the kitchen. I've made a fruit salad for breakfast the next couple of days, a strawberry pavlova. I love pavlova. I love meringue. I would just not like to be vegan and not be able to eat meringue. I love pavlova too because its named after Anna Pavlova. I always thought the story of Anna Pavlova was just so sad. She danced like an angel and didn't she die of a cold or something? I made a salad. A mushroom and green pepper omelette. All the while I was dancing and singing to the Sawdoctors.

None of this is conveying how I feel at the moment.

I just want to be walking out towards Connemara, in the total blackness, hearing the Atlantic ocean as it crashes against the rocks, seeing pinpricks of light in the distance until you gradually get nearer and see they are houses. I want to hear the sounds of the ponies, pass by pubs. I want to be wearing my DM's and German parka. I want it to start to rain. I want to feel like a good person.

I know this moment will pass and I will feel the same as always again and so I just wanted to write it down. I so rarely feel real.