Musings of the Mad

 
Last night, I got MASSIVELY wrecked then had to come in to school for an entire day of talks about UCAS and personal statements. I'm somewhat impressed with myself for getting home (although I think I passed out between King's Cross and Golder's Green), getting up on time and getting into school, all whilst still tipsy. Now I'm just epically tired though.

I CAN'T WRITE A PERSONAL STATEMENT. I HAVE NOTHING TO SAY.

 It's my birthday!

I'm 17 today, and feeling both very old and very young. This evening, my mum and Stuart will take me out for dinner, and this morning I will drink tea from the beautiful tea cup given to me by my girlfriend ^.^

It's shaping up to be a pretty good day.

 So I just came out as bisexual to my mum and told her that steelteacup is my girlfriend. She took it really well, as I knew she would, but it was still nerve-wracking. *deep breath*

Now I REALLY WANT TEA. 

(Oh, yeah, and just to tell you lot how sappy I am, when I was out to dinner with mum I saw that the restaurant serves eton mess. So I had that for dinner because it reminds me of steelteacup and helped remind me that she deserves so much better than to be a poorly-kept secret when I know my mum wouldn't mind.)

If this is to truly be the end
And I am to die, right here and now,
And time and space do not allow
For cunning plans, I shall pretend
Instead that you are here. That you
Are with me in this cold, dark room;
A beam of light amidst the gloom,
Filling me with hope anew.
For if you now were with me, love,
I’d clasp your hand and stroke your skin
And shush you as the guards stormed in.
As the crowds outside called for my head
I’d kiss you goodbye one last time:
Then offer you up in my stead.

I wrote this in seven minutes so please don't hurt me.

Dominion

The Emperor did don his crown
And sprawled upon his throne.
He hollered for his servant's aid,
But found himself alone.

"Slave!" He cried, "Come here now!
Or I'll see you come to harm!"
The nurse approached with full syringe
And plunged it in his arm.

The Tragic Yet Inevitable Failure of a Self-Appointed Dictator

As these things so often do
It finished and began
With someone like you

Or me. In this case, a man
Whose dreams were filled
With plots and plans

That slowly, surely spilled
From the womb of his mind
Into life. He refined and distilled

Until these thoughts were entwined
With the threads of his reality. Sadly, however, as is often the case,
Reality did not respond in kind.

So let's play a game. You need to identify the four groups of four and say how they're connected. Here's my wall:

 I have a ticket going spare for a recording of 'Would I Lie To You' at Pinewood Studios (near Uxbridge) on the 4th of March.

Any Takers?

 I've hit a very sudden low point, where I feel completely miserable, irritable and prone to crying. I have no idea what triggered it, but Stuart's fucking awful jazz music isn't helping at all.

 Oh yes. And this one was kidnapped from apiphile. I dragged it here, kicking and screaming all the way.

Ask me any 3 questions. No anonymous comments. You must face your own depravity (or not, depending on who you are).