Need to get a few things off my chest

I am sitting on the floor, back to the raidiator, laptop balanced on a chair right infront of me, wrapped in a duckegg green blanket, free diet coke pint and kid style blackboard to my left, paper bin to my right. I am in my little den. I am safe. I need to get all the crap out of my den.

In the form of a story. About today. With random intrusions from passing thoughts.

When she woke up for the second time of the day, she realised that the previous bad dream where she woke up at 5 to 11 and had missed her lesson was a foreshadow warning of what was about to occur. It was 9.55. She had a lesson at 10. However, instead of making every effort to dress herself in the snuggliest clothing and run and leopard run to her lecture, she decided to sit on the floor, and look about her. As if this was the magic spell to wind back time. Eventually at 5 past 10 she decided that this was pathetic, and over the pink tights she had worn to bed and black strap top, to force on that mr men skirt and a ballet cardigan.

This is ridiculous, she thought,

This is ridiculous, she thought.

Over and over and over and over. And over.

10.20 And the broken spirited girl arrives at Elvet. Wandering the corridors and peeking though keyholes to see if the class is in this or that room. Finally she finds the class. Enters. Mood plummets. Marianna looks at her, not with anger, more with pity or worry. She doesn't mind, and the girl is reassured, but she still feels like she can no longer communicate to her in russian. The words that once had such meaning, and slipped off her tounge with such ease had lost their sense. The potion had worn off, she was just a below average student again.

To the open acces centre to prepare for this unknown language's oral class that was to follow in the day. A newspaper article. A dictionary. A highlighter and a biro. The four items were finding it hard to communicate seeing as the hand that needed to power them was stuck to the girls forehead in dispair. How is it that these familiar words had become so foreign? Where was the diet coke can when she needed it? Where?

It was time to wander the corridors again, she couldn't take the pressure from the work room. GET OUT it screamed at her viciously. GET OUT YOU, DO NOT BELONG. Run far from here. And running from the room she recognised a shining light that had guided her many a time before, and she followed it to a door. Her guardian angel was there, brightly filling the room with her charms. She greeted the grey girl with a warm hug. The grey brightened slightly from the newfound acceptance. Soon it was time to move on, to French Literature, to be exact. All eyes on me, she thought. All eyes are on me. Find the words, find the words, find the words. And the french flowed through a river of twists and turns through a dark forest and meadows in between. But the letters mostly made it though and a smile can to the tired face as she realised the day was almost over.

An hour later, a walk in the frost and howling wind, it was Russian oral. Silence, gance around the room, stare, fixated on the accent. How is her accent so good? Heart is sinking. Heart is sinking, filling with water which would try to fall past her eyes and find a release. She held on, closed the eyes, blinked rapidly.

This is ridiculous, she thought.

This is ridculous, she thought.

Over and over and over and over. And over.

Feet walk quicker up the hill when they know that a blanket is impatiently waiting for them. They walk well and they know no boundary. They could walk to China to get this blanket and not give in. They are invincible.

In the safety of her dollhouse, back to the raidiator in her self made den, the world outside her is falling apart. She cant look out the windows becuase she is afraid the sky will be in pieces on the grass, or the beautiful trees that have lost their leaves will have divided into thousands of small lines, waiting to fall and erode.

So the curtains are shut. Keep out the cold. Keep out the world. Keep out what is unknown or unwelcome.

2 apples and a pear. Dinner. Left at her door with Toy story. Someone had taken a highlighter en to her day's script to brighten it up a bit.

If I close my eyes I see the world sparkle

I see my guardian angel smiling and leading me through the mist

I see you diamonds and gems glisten in the distance and I smile

I her the songs that make the world a safer place

I feel the warmth on my back

When I open then I see a room

I see lonliness

So I try to keep the closed