Sometimes I don�t like you diary. You hold all these secrets, secrets that should still be secret, only they�re not because you know them and I willingly told you. Sometimes I write things in you and a few days later I don�t feel that way, or think those things�then I wish I�d never said anything at all. Everything can change in the space of a moment, and a moment can be as short or as long as you like � writing everything down in it makes it all the more permanent. It�s not a fleeting thought anymore, it�s not the progression on to a greater idea � it�s an idea all of its own.

I hate that. I hate looking back and seeing how little it takes for things to change. They�re always changing; nothing ever seems to stay the same. One day I might feel justified by what I�ve done, and the next I�m mortified. Why do I keep capturing the moments in between? The part where I think I�m right.

Mostly I struggle to like you because you�re proof that I�m as mutable as people are always saying. They all think it�s humorous - Oh look, she�s changed her mind again � oh look, she�s fiercely arguing a point she doesn�t even believe in anymore�oh look, she�s decided she wants this instead of that � hardy ha and what not. But it�s not really funny is it? At least not from where I�m standing.

I keep thinking�.have I always been like this? And of course I have. I read or heard this quote somewhere that said people don�t change who they are, they just change what they do with who they are.

God. I remember at school how I could fit in anywhere, and yet not fit in anywhere all at the same time. You know how everyone belongs to a certain group of friends? It�s like I gave them all a claim on me, so that nobody had a bigger claim than anyone else. I could sit and spend my time with anyone and it wasn�t strange�it was just me. I was never lonely, but in a sense I�ve always been the loneliest of them.

This is why I turn into such a control freak�like by alphabetising and colour coordinating everything I�m going to make myself more stable. Like by planning ahead I can cover all of the possibilities. Like somehow, in amongst all the confusion, I can be prepared. I�m scrambling for security where there�s none to be had.

I feel like deleting all of your entries because they�re annoying me. All of them. But what would be the point? You can�t erase the past. I�m fed up of trying to make amends for it � I don�t know if I�ve ever been more moronic than in thinking I could.

Except for the time I snorted bath salts � that was pretty fucking stupid. But so what? I smelt roses and lavender for days afterwards.

Fuck it. I�m unpacking to find my slippers and I�m going to the park.

<<ghosts []the mist>>