Cycles

It was quite the uneccessary act. They had talked about before how it would just be a fun night out, no drama. Of course it didn't happen, because it never does.

They headed back to their old haunting - it had changed since they had last been there. But the comfortable familiarity of the place was nice. Tonight they were going to ditch the new spot they'd been heading to for weeks now, and just have a night of drinking and dancing under lumiscent fluro lights.

It started because they were outside in the cold. She was impatient and wanted to go inside - he didn't because he didn't want to pay. She made a joke about how he liked to brag about how rich he was, and how it's not like he had to pay for accommodation or anything. As she waited for him to laugh back with her, she tensed when she noticed his expression change, and his eyes grow cold. The inevitable snap came - it happens all the time now when he had been drinking - if it's not with her, it's with someone else.

It's like a train gathering speed. Small hisses, as the speed picks up, and then steam and loud noises as it barrels over the train tracks.
The one change this time - She fought back.

His words hit under the surface of the carefully placed walls. Everything she had ever told him was thrown back in her face. He was relentless in his wanting to hurt her. She was weak for letting it get to her so much. Once he saw how upset he had made her, he angrily asked why she was still his friend. Deep down she didn't know. The answer?
'When it's good it's great. I understand you better than anyone else has, and you're the same with me. But I don't know how long I can keep doing this for.'

He called her every name under the sun. She didn't flinch, just watched through blurry eyes. He told her to walk away from the friendship. He towered over her as she sat, arms wrapped around knees tightly, in a defensive and protective gesture. He threw insults until he was red in the face.

Passer bys watched with changing expressions - amusement, pity, confusion. Some yelled out their advice. Other offered words of comfort to the girl on the stoop. She instantly had a way of making people want to protect her. She hated this about herself - She wasn't vulnerable. She hadn't built all these walls up over the years to be seen as weak. But there she was. Sitting on the stoop, shivering, tears running silently down, staring at the ground.

'Don't worry about him sweetheart! You're way too good for him!' A drunken man leered as he walked past.
Another guy sat down next to her, and stared at the guy as he continued ranting oblivious.
'Don't put up with this. Your boyfriends a pyscho. He's fat anyway. Walk away now.' He gave her a one armed hug and continued on his path. The only thing she could say back;
'He's not my boyfriend'

Finally her snap came. It was bound to happen. The tension of the last few months came out. He tried to talk over the top of her, but she silenced him. He immediately tried to get her to lower her voice, but it was like a dam had exploded. He denied her allegations, tried to make it out like she was making it all up. Deep down he knew she was right, but he was too arrogant to see it. She accused that he couldn't take honesty. She said she had always been the one fighting for the friendship. She demanded to be left alone. She walked away.

She made it to the next street, before sitting down, not knowing what to do from here. A group of girls came up and sat down asking if she was okay. This is the exact position she never wanted to be seen in. Thinking that, made the tears come again. The girl comforted her, smoothing back her hair, offering her make up and keeping an arm around her. She didn't deserve this kindess from strangers, but would remain grateful for it.

On her way again, she walked down to their latest haunt. She ignored the calls from him, coming every few minutes or so. He sent her a message 'if you don't come back this friendship is over.' In her mind, it already was. She got there, hands frozen as she tried to take out her ID - the security guard waved her in without looking. She went into the bathroom - she didn't look as bad as she felt. She slipped the mask back in place, and chatted happily with a few randoms in the line up, smiling and laughing along.

As she walked back through the pub, she spotted him, and he spotted her. He came running up and gave her a huge hug, apologising and laughing at the same time. She hugged him back, but deep down inside her something had changed. She wasn't going to let this happen again.

Imaginary conversations

Imagine if we gave the real answers to what we were thinking. Simple everyday questions would take on a whole new meaning. We'd find out too much information about each other. We wouldn't know which answers to give. We would get stuck in awkward moments.


How are you today?
Tired
Why tired?
I've forgotten how to sleep peacefully.
Oh that's no good. Maybe you should go to bed earlier?
That's not it. I can't sleep till early morning. And then I constantly wake up. I can't stop having nightmares. I'm tired all the time, and I've lost a passion. I'm at a crosspaths and I am sick of waiting. I have no energy, and I fake laugh constantly.
.....Oh. Ok.

The journey of the bus ride

I step onto the bus, my heels clicking slightly on the hard surface. 'Just going downtown thanks" I murmur to the bus driver. She glances at me. 'Concession?' She asks. I nod a yes automatically before I remember I am in the inbetween year. Technically I am no longer a concession, and won't be for another 6 months. I am an adult. She asks for my concession card. I fake searching through my wallet. 'It's not there, don't worry about it' I say. Why the false pretense? I don't even know why I do some of the things I do.

I continue down the bus, ignoring the eyes looking at the new arrival to board. I notice I don't fit in here. This doesn't surprise me. I never quite fit in, nor stand out. Slipping under the radar is a game I could go pro at. However dressed in tight jeans, long boots, an oversized cardigan, striped scarf, my hair straightened to perfection, my fringe obeying me for once, and my make up covering facial flaws I feel slightly self concious as I take in the people around me, eyes hidden behind over sized sunglasses. I slip in my ipod headphones and continue to observe.

There is a young couple sitting across from me. My age, couldn't be much older. They have a toddler in a pram. The girl looks typical teenage drop out, with a typical drop kick boyfriend. I immediately feel some guilt at my shallow first impressions as I watch the boy smile rather lovingly at his daughter as he rocks the pram. I can't help wonder though if they ever had a plan and whether having a child so young was part of it. I glance at the girl, her hair tied back in a tight ponytail, regrowth seeping through. I wonder if she got mixed in with a wrong crowd. I wonder what her parents said when they found out she was pregnant. I wonder if she dreamed of getting out of the town, and pursuing bigger dreams. I wonder if her baby is the best thing that has ever happened to her.

I feel my neck prickle, and I glance discreetly over at a man, who is also looking at me. He is old, a bitter expression on his lined face. He holds onto a walking frame, and continues to glance around at the patrons on the bus, his brow furrowed. I wonder if he does what I do - observe, think and wonder. I wonder what he thinks of me then when he looks at me. I wonder if his thoughts on the young couple were similar to mine. I could be wrong though. Maybe he's just looking at the different views outside the window. It wouldn't be the first time I've been wrong.

A lady drops down in the seat in front of me. Her hair is slicked with oil at the top, before the greasy strands turn thicker, into a ball of fluff at the bottom. A bobby pin secures the hair back. I wonder when the last time she washed her hair was. I wonder if I would ever get to the point of not caring as to go out in public like that.

The bus is a symbol of what I don't want my life to be. It is a place of lost dreams, lost hope. It is a place of people who have given up. You can see it in their eyes. They aren't content, aren't happy. I vow to myself I am never going to be another lost soul, riding on a bus, in a desparate and futile attempt to find the right destination.

If I sleep for long enough, will the next 6 months fly by?

It's an awful thing really, wanting to wish away time. I mean here I am dreading turning another year older in 2 weeks, but at the same time I wish I could close my eyes, and re open them to find my future life not being so incredibly far away.
Even that to an extent is not so true. I know what I want. And I know what I need to do to get there. But I've always been an impatient person - Generation Y - apparently we expect things at the click of our fingers, and don't want to do the hard yards.

It's not that I am against doing the hard work. I know for a fact, to get where I want to in 10 years time, I am going to have to do the hard work - work experience, little to no pay, getting peoples coffees for them etc. I don't consider myself above that in the slightest.

I guess my situation is slightly different with this traineeship in that - it is nothing I am passionate about. Hell, I don't even need my retail 2 certificate.
So I'm going to put it out there; I don't love my job. I hate the hours I work. I strongly dislike some of the people I work with. I am told 'they own me' and I cannot request time off, even though I am entitled to full holiday pay when needed.

In nearly 6 months working there, I have had a total of two weekends off. One was given to me, the other I had to request, and they weren't happy in the slightest.
I'm not the sort of person to give up - Apart from the fact the availability of jobs going here is dismal, I tend to push myself to keep going, even if it gets the point of me generally being very unhappy.
However now we are in August. I am giving myself a deadline - no more laziness. My halfway point of my traineeship is up mid september, and that is where I can officially apply for early completion and get the hell out. And that is exactly what I plan to do.
Procrasination is an old friend - but like many old friends, sometimes we need to let them go.

Wish me luck