{ yesterday's tweets. }

• 09:09 Morning! Breakfast then battling with masking tape to recreate the flattened boxes I got from the supermarket yesterday. Shenanigans ahoy! #
• 11:43 *Actually* packing now. Could probably do it all in the few hours tomorrow A.M. before The Dad gets here, but better to do it now. #
• 13:45 Heading to train station. Nose is full of dust. #
• 14:48 Am at train station; Flatmate just left. Am sore low. #
• 16:00 @twincy Plot is sneaky that way. *hugs* #
• 16:00 Back from town: more packing, more Spooks. #
• 16:56 @twincy tinyurl.com/6ryhtk #
• 17:57 Have lost: one earring, one earring back (different earring), my spectacles. Also: my mind. If found, please return. #
• 18:12 Aha! Specs found; rest still absent. #
• 20:08 Food = delicious and overly filling. Now: why do I have so many lecture notes? What am I going to do with all these *books*?? #
• 02:20 @twincy TOOOONNNGGGUUUESSS! *\o/* #
• 02:21 Omg, BED NOW PLEASE. Seriously: hardcore talking and packing. Still more to do! #

{ wait, they don't love you like I love you. }

In theory I should be packed by now; in actuality, uh, yeah. Not so much. I just got a call from The Mother saying that they've set out... which made my mind boggle. The Dad is just bringing his car, not a rental. The Mother has never come to pick me up (only drop me off) so I don't know why she's tagged along this time. If we can't fit everything in the car, we'll have to leave her here. (lols.)

Just about everything is packed. I have some book which could do with going into a box but The Dad might prefer to keep them in the plastic bag they're in right now. I need to have breakfast, then wash, wrap and pack the last of my crockery. I then need to take all the stuff that's packed and put it on one side of the room. The stuff that is left is my academic notes, stationery and my many, many electrical leads &c. So: bits and bobs, basically, although my A4 binders are really fucking heavy. Really, self? You need to keep those? (Um, actually, YES. I'd have a coronary trying to get rid of them.)

--

Feel weird (obvs.) Spent last night talking to N and being open and honest. She was too, but. I don't know. Often I say, 'be honest! I can take it!' and that's utter bullshit. But she was talking last night and I was actually fully okay with the things she was saying to me. I was able to say, yes, I am oft lacking in sympathy and patience. And I felt good about it in the sense that for once I was stating a fact and it wasn't emotionally biased one way or another. I'm not proud about my character flaws but I have them, and they're mine. To an extent I feel I have to lay claim to them. And if I was so fussed about it, I'd change. So obviously I don't feel it's a huge deal. (This is not a pity post, guys; just statements of fact. I don't need the 'u r my friendz' comments, thanks.) You can be a horrible person and not feel guilty about it. If you can stand yourself, if you can live with yourself, that goes a long way (I feel) to justifying certain public personalities. What I mean is, if you're going to be a bitch, at least have the guts to say, yes, okay, this is how I am. And if you don't like the way you are, then you should work to change it. But if you do like the way you act (or, you like the results in one form or another) and are just miffed because of the way others react to you, that's poor form, frankly. I am oft lacking in sympathy and patience. Not always, but often. It's not an excuse to be a cow, and actually, whilst lacking in those attributes, I also know that I'm very attentive to people. But if I was now to be offended by someone throwing those terms at me, it would be stupid.

(I do get offended when someone suggests that I'm not available to them because that's bullshit. I'm easy to get in contact with. I will listen for long stretches of time. But if at the end of that you don't like what I have to say - and this is the sense in which I mean I don't have patience or sympathy - then don't come to me in the first place. I can listen and not speak, if that's what you want. But don't ask for advice and get irritated when you don't like what I say.)

So. I don't know. I guess. In some ways I know that I am a superlative friend. But I also know that I am a terrible friend. And I feel like N and I spoke openly last night; I remembered why I liked her, and why sometimes I dislike her. I think she remembered the same of me. I think that ultimately, I'm leaving today, and I learned one thing, if not many others. I can take responsibility for my own shit.

{ e. e. cummings, it may not always be so; and i say. }

it may not always be so; and i say
by e. e. cummings

it may not always be so; and i say
that if your lips, which i have loved, should touch
another's, and your dear strong fingers clutch
his heart, as mine in time not far away;
if on another's face your sweet hair lay
in such silence as i know, or such
great writhing words as, uttering overmuch,
stand helplessly before the spirit at bay;

if this should be, i say if this should be--
you of my heart, send me a little word;
that i may go unto him, and take his hands,
saying, Accept all happiness from me.
Then shall i turn my face and hear one bird
sing terribly afar in the lost lands

 

{ e. e. cummings, my sweet old etcetera. }

my sweet old etcetera
by e. e. cummings

my sweet old etcetera
aunt lucy during the recent

war could and what
is more did tell you just
what everybody was fighting

for,
my sister

isabel created hundreds
(and
hundreds)of socks not to
mention shirts fleaproof earwarmers

etcetera wristers etcetera, my
mother hoped that

i would die etcetera
bravely of course my father used
to become hoarse talking about how it was
a privilege and if only he
could meanwhile my

self etcetera lay quietly
in the deep mud et

cetera
(dreaming,
et
  cetera, of
Your smile
eyes knees and of your Etcetera)