Ariel

Gah.
What have I achieved?

[no, I'm not drunk]

Made new playlist, provisionally titled "Music to slash your wrists by."
Where did I get such angsty!goth!fuckwit! taste in music?

[seriously]

[just high on life]

Watched film. Was good. Parents had a function-type thing with Indian friends-of family - fairly nice people but wouldn't want to spend eternity with them.

Read a lot of fanfic. Fanfiction.net sucks. It's like spending eternity with a lot of people, who you don't like, who talk lyk dis!!11!!(OMG LOL) and are all a disgrace to the English language and the human race...

[what did I say, I'm high on life?]

Horrible ideas in head.
Plot bunnies, god help us all.

Is that Macbeth? "God, God, forgive us all!"
Well, not the man himself, the Scottish play. It's someone else who says it. The doctor maybe?

Slash plot bunnies.

Gah.

Have discovered person willing to take noxious shot glass off my hands. Emily gave it to me for Christmas, and it's horrible. Well, it's not. It's amusingly hideous. Must try not to break it.

"My name is Ariel, and I want to be free,
It is your sorrow that has made a slave of me."

That's the Tempest. As paraphrased by the October Project.
The song sounds like Suicide is Painless.

This post should have gone into first_thoughts.

Tomorrow will be fun. I [[heart]] another person.

Doesn't that prove I'm sober? My grasp of HTML?

I think I should go to bed. It's ten past two in the morning.

Rainwater

I woke up at eleven. I was meant to wake up at ten but I forgot to change the alarm clock to BST. I wavered between consciousness and otherwise for about half an hour, until the doorbell rang. I was in a wha-huh?type mood, and ambled downstairs to admit Hannah (purplerainbow). She was apologetic for being so early - she thought I'd be asleep, and she was right!

But no harm was done - I got dressed, and we started talking, nonstop, about nothing in particular. I checked my email, in a generally good mood, and then we wandered down for breakfast (it was one o'clock in the afternoon).

Pedar took the modem then, so we listened to my new playlist ("Music to slash your wrists by") and talked. I wish I could elaborate - after all, we must have spent about seven hours in conversation in all - but I really can't. I don't know what we talked about. I remember recommending Good Omens, I remember explaining the concept of angel/demon slash, I remember touching on the subject of Hannah's hand-made jewellery, I seem to remember Silverchair's Diorama being mentioned, as was Clare (away at a horse show) and Emily (away doing something - apparently she was bust today) and the subtext in M*A*S*H, the episode of Friends where they're spying on George Stephanopolous, the weather, the weather again...

Yes, we went out for a walk into the pinewoods (still talking about stuff) and reached the beach to find the tide coming in. The sunshine was understated but definitely present - the water was sparkling and shimmering through a layer of gentle fog - but the horizon was almost invisible, sky and sea merging together in a long curve. I think we stood at the water's edge, looking out at the beauty for a moment, and then we walked down the beach (still talking) towards the north.

We walked so far (talking about the Simpsons? Maybe) we couldn't see the post that marks where the road once reached the sea. The road isn't there any more, of course, and neither are the buildings that once lined the shore - the dunes began collapsing many years ago, and it's not safe to build here anymore. The remains of the buildings can still be seen as piles of old stone and brick half-buried in sand, but they're in the process of being tidied away and soon they'll be gone.

We headed inland, back towards the trees, and hit the bridle path where it curves towards the beach, but I think we left it quite quickly and ended up in woodland. We wandered through it, talking and giggling and running down the slopes like little kids, and all the time I was sure we were heading back towards the road, but my sense of direction must have been completely off, because we eventually emerged on a path leading straight out to the dunes. I think we probably went in a huge circle around the road, and felt fairly ridiculous but massively amused as we landed back on the beach, at exactly the same point where we originally headed inland.

It started getting dark then. Not night-dark, gathering-clouds-dark. There were a few drops of rain as we made our way down the beach, but coming up across the dunes, the heavens opened. For a few seconds, it was like buckets of water being overturned from above. After the first shock, it was funny - Hannah and me were two of so many people caught in it, running towards their cars and back into Formby whilst sloshing their way through huge puddles that ran into each other and caused mini-currents to flow - and the rain was so devastatingly heavy I had to take my glasses off and I just couldn't see. Hannah said this was one of the days we'll remember. I think she's right.

We dried off with some difficulty - I don't think I've been wetter without submerging myself in water. There's towels and rainwater and sand all over my bed, but sitting in here listening to the Counting Crows, life became more and more pleasant. I'm still damp, though.

Hannah departed not long ago... and I've had a good day. A simple, lovely day, with high points and wet points, and good conversation and the stuff drunken memories seem to be made of.