This has been a pretty relaxing Sunday. Been nowhere. Seen no one apart from mum and John. Actually I've barely seen John but I got to spend time with my mum not getting wound up so that was nice. It's good to be calm after yesterday. I finished a whole book yesterday in the end. I didn't mean to read it as fast as I did, because it was good and the sort of story that could have lasted me a nice week of day dreaming. Not that I regret reading it all. It really was a good book. Sometimes people say, that if you read fast you don't really get the grips with the whole story, because you aren't taking enough of it in. I think that's bollocks because I don't actually realise I'm reading quickly until the book is finished. In a lot of ways, I think my method is better because I get to take in more uninterrupted. And sometimes I need to read fast, because it keeps my focus in that story rather than in my own head. My mind has become pretty unbearable recently. Whenever it gets the chance to it starts me thinking about things that make me sad and then my imagination stops functioning so I can't pull myself out of it and then I'm quiet and everyone gets jumpy and wondering what's wrong and I hate that. Noughts And Crosses was definitely my saviour this weekend, and I don't think that that is an overstatement either. It's weird. I would usually have an explanation for all this, even if the explanation was that there wasn't one. The funny thing is that... there is but I honestly don't know how to talk about it. When I think about it, I know that it isn't bad. It's just bad in my head. Sometimes I think I'm only keeping it in to justify my being sad about it because if I told somebody then I know they would look disinterested and make me feel as though I was being stupid about the whole thing. Being stupid doesn't delete "the thing" from existance so I don't know how that is supposed to help me. If anything it just makes me even more frustrated with myself.
So that's why I read fast. There were inbetween moments where my mind went bad but most of yesterday, in the end was spent inside a completely different story. It took me away from myself completely, and that's what made it an amazing story.

The book I started today isn't doing that so much. But I know that it will have some proper effect eventually. It's a Meg Rosoff book, so I know it'll take me a while to get into properly.

It's funny how when I was cutting myself off in the summer holidays I didn't notice how my life had started to completely revolve around books. :roll: