Blurred Lines

I woke up with a hangover that lasted well past 24 hours after we left Altoria the night before. I woke up practically shaking, in fact. Axel had to go to campus as he was leaving for a surf social (crazy cat), so I snuck into his bed after he left for a snooze, before finally getting up around 10.30 and giving Joe a ring. Headed to his new pad for a catch up, and a lot of complaining about how horrendous I felt. Then made it onto campus to visit Sam before I had to go home.

He kindly fed me and let me curl up in a ball on his bed while we both alternated between moaning about our hangovers and giggling over the tiniest things. Good balance, I suppose. I also met his housemates, who were lovely, and indulged us while we nattered and laughed over stupid jokes. Just to help the afternoon along we squeezed in an episode of Nighty Night before I had to make my way back to the train station.

Clarity - this mini trip feels like a bit of a game changer for me. The second I got onto campus yesterday, I was surprised at my reaction. I didn't recognise a single face, and expected myself to feel resentful of all the freshers getting their first shot at it, when i am so nostalgic for that time in my life. But I felt fine.
And in the evening... well, it goes without saying. Even today, I thought back to last night and thought of a couple of times when I could have said something nasty or done something spiteful, but I had no regret to do it. I have no ill-wishes. For the first time in a long time it feels like the malice has just dripped out of my bones and left me feeling happy for people, rather than dreaming of all the ways to hold something over them.

Been listening to the Arctic Monkeys even more recently. They say it all so well. Trying to write, too, but I say nothing well.