There's NOTHING here. I've been walking around this area for hours. Nothing over 40 years old exists here except maybe the trees. All made-to-order housing estates for the sort-of-well-off and council housing. Small smatterings of franchised shops. Groups of kids who look like they want to stab me for wearing a Depeche Mode t-shirt, all with haircuts copied from footballers and tracksuit tops. Am I really so middle-class that kids who are clearly working-class actively scare me just by their presence? (I should never have watched Eden Lake with Simon) There's a park nearby, but - well, I can't deal with parks right now. News of Joey's death is still ringing in my ears.
To tell you the truth, I'm still reeling from Ms. Fisher's death, and her boyfriend's death, and the knowlege that I'm being stalked by the man who did it. These days, I wake up throughout the night just...screaming. Screaming and weeping. Eventually I cry myself to sleep, hating myself for being so weak. I alternate between having to sleep in the dark and needing the hall light on. When it's dark, it's too impenetrable, but when it's light, the shadows are too pronounced. Sometimes I'll want dark. Sometimes I'll want not so dark. Sometimes I just don't sleep. Being relocated hasn't changed that.
There's nothing to do here. I wish I could live over the internet. It's so much less lonely. There's always new people. But even that's sad. The worlds our minds inhabit since the internet and videogames and home film have become so much larger, but the physical one has become smaller. The known and the unknown both become larger, more intimidating.
I need happy stories. If anyone has any nice stories of things that're going on in their lives, please post them in the comments. I could use the pick-me-up.
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