The only good thing about being so frustrated, i can literally feel my blood boiling...is what the lack of control does to my creative abilities.

I wrote two poems!

I'm super happy about that.

I always struggle to write poetry; i'm too much of a perfectionist and i analyse everything just that little bit too much.

But when i'm as restless as i was yesterday, it's like word vomit.

I'm sitting with my head in my hands and all these words are dancin' around beneath my eyelids, so i just write them down.

I have no control whatsoever, so my words are that much more heartfelt.

And my dreams too. I have some fuck awesome dreams when i'm all crazy.

Last night it was so real; i woke up thinking i was going to have to make a run for it.

I can remember bits and pieces.

There was a big house with a massive garden, and a lot of talk about 'light' and 'darkness'.

I was a part of a family with magical abilities...i was the Mom.

I don't remember the Dad clearly, but i have a feeling i didn't love him all that much...but we were cool.

I had three children; the eldest a teenage boy and the youngest a girl of about five, both had magical abilities.

But the middle girl didn't.

There was some sort of party at our house for the middle daughter...and this house was like nothing i'd ever been in before.

Massive. Staircases and bathrooms and bedrooms everywhere.

I kept seeing it from different people's points of view too.

Well, the middle girl was outside at night with all her non-magical friends when suddenly we knew that 'darkness' was coming.

We sort of put the house on lockdown. There were all these uncles and cousins with magical abilities running to hide in pairs and sealing their rooms with 'light'.

The rooms would glow white, every wall, floor and ceiling - and you could see it from the outside.

I remember pleading with someone to let my middle daughter in the house, even if she wasn't magical, 'cause she could be a target...and some uncle let her in so she ran off to hide.

Then the next thing i know...i'm with some dude. Some fuck hot specimen of manliness, and he's holding my hand...this wasn't the husband by the way.

And we hear some noises, so we creep outside the room and find a little boy, about 3 or so, sniffling away in the corner, all snotty and everything.

So i gather him up in my arms and we start walking quietly through the house, hotty with his hand on my lower back the whole time.

We hear a noise from the kitchen and as we approach it, it has one of those swinging doors that won't stop creepily moving.

There was a woman in there, leaning over the sink like she's out of breath or gunna be sick, and it was the little boy's Ma.

He takes one look at her and clings to me even tighter.

We try talking to her, try to help her, but she's tryna warn us that we've got to go before the darkness overtakes her, only she can't say it outright.

We get the message at the last minute and we're running before she's turned around all murderous like and charged for us.

We make it to a bathroom a few rooms away, and lock the door securely.

I remember looking in the mirror that adorned one wall and thinking how pale we all were.

Pale and dirty with red rimmed eyes, like we'd been crying this whole time.

So i washed the little boys face and helped him straighten out a little.

Then me and the fuck hot dude washed our faces and smiled at each other...all sizzley and everything.

And then i saw a couple (but as an outside spectator, not myself) lying on a bed, wrapped in blankets, staring at a glowing ceiling of the room above, knowing they was going to die.

And then i woke up.

I love dreams like that.

It was almost as good as the zombie one i had, where i hid my brother and cousin in the back of a wardrobe, behind the panels, and i walked around with a machine gun and ammo draped across my body.

My mind sure does work in mysterious ways. Too many horror and sci fi movies and random fictional stories.

I began reading Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451 last night. When i'd calmed down enough to sit down and do something that is.

Amazing book. I'm nearly finished.

A world where people are burned in their houses for owning books and nobody bats an eyelash? Crazy, but intriguing.

It's actually pretty beautiful outside right now. Sunny and everything.

We've had days upon days of rain, but now it's cleared up, i'm wishin' there was a park nearby.

I loved that about Bedford. Living next to the countrypark for years was awesome.

I could just walk thirty feet and be standing on the banks of a little rambling river...touching reeds with my finger tips.

Walk a little bit more, over quaint wooden bridges and i'm in the fields and there's an array of little windin' paths shadowed by trees to get a little lost down.

But i never did get lost.

I spent so much time down there - behaving and misbehaving - that you could plop me down anywhere and i'd still find my way back home.

God i wish there was something like that here.

When i go to Bath, or i guess i should say 'if' i go to Bath, i sincerely hope there's somewhere beautiful near by that i can go to.

It makes the world of difference sometimes.

Tiv told me her Ma was a Buddhist and that she sometimes goes to a temple when she needs a bit of clarity.

I've never really thought about going somewhere holy to think. I've always gone for big open spaces and quiet...just in nature.

But i guess that churches are generally big open spaces full of silence.

Maybe i should try it sometime.

I'm not one of those people that thinks god strikes down any atheist that trys to set foot on his property.

I've been to enough funerals and weddings to know this isn't true.

If he exists, which i highly doubt, i'd have thought he'd have some kind of understanding with those of us who like to choose our own paths, without any help from him and his like.

I dyed my hair yesterday. It looked like the bath was full of blood when i washed it out.

I thought about putting the plug in to freak Simon out.

Payback for bursting in my room and scaring the bejebus out of me.

But then i wondered if it would stain the bath red...and it's not like i can afford to pay for a new bath now is it.

My hair's cool anyhow. Sort of dark red/brown...but more red.

It does look a little like blood. Not that i'm complaining.

I decided to paint my nails red to match, but all i could find was this totally bright glittery red that makes me look like a hardcore fan of Wizard of Oz.

I'm cool with that too.

I'm not bothering with college today.

Maybe later on, if i'm up for it, i'll have another go at my Psychology assignment.

I'm seriously not understanding or enjoying this one though.

Aslong as it's a pass i'll be happy.

I caught up with Nika and Lorna at the weekend...so i felt a bit better...but then i still haven't spoken to Grams so i just stop thinking about family.

I started deleting phone numbers out of my phone...anyone i wasn't interested in speaking to ever again...and i found my Nanny's phone number.

I don't even remember how i got it...more than likely through my sister.

But now i can't stop thinking about it...wondering whether i should give her another chance too.

Sure, she pissed me off majorly by bringing my Dad into things when i specifically asked her not to.

But i've forgiven people for so much more than that.

And then i debated whether i was feeling this way because i hadn't got Grams to talk to right now...but she's still my Nanna...so shouldn't i give her a chance?

I don't know what to do.

One part of me thinks i should just ring the number and just say hello.

And another part of me thinks i should also ring my sister and try and make amends...yet again.

Even if she irritates the shit out of me with her incessant gangster talk and bimbo remarks...she's still my little sister.

Not that she's that little anymore, she's 20 this June. Shit.

And a little part of me feels like bashing my head against a brick wall for always feeling so guilty about things that aren't my fault.

*heavily sighs*

But...i am in a good mood today...so maybe i'll just go get another coffee, sit down, and think some more about what i want to do.

No decision worth making, is ever an easy one.