hello hello

man alive, why am i awake? it's like 3 in the morning, and here i am, half-watching school of rock and half-writing this.
i have had a nice day. my friends tried to take me to the aquarium, but the queues were too big. that really sucked because i'd been reading about how there's a monkey house out the back, and i was thinking, wow, what if at 5 or something they put the monkeys in the shark tank and make them fight for food or something, so i was really excited to see if i was just dreaming. i'll probably never know. instead we drove around listening to terrible going out type tunes (the only cds in the car are compilations of things like nine inch nails, lady gaga, and old cheesy pop hits from the 90's) and i spent the day having bon jovi hair because both of my friends smoke, so they had the windows down and i always have to sit in the back, presumably because i'm the youngest and also always forget to shout shotgun, so i was all freezing with nothing but a shitty leather jacket and teeshirt on and my hair was whipping me in the face. it sounds shit, but i had a pretty good time. we went back to theirs afterwards and watched animals do the funniest things and britains got talent. animals really do, in summary, do the funniest things. i went to the pub to meet with my boyfriend and his bezzie mate and other people (who were majorly majorly wired, and not on sugar) so we just chilled from there on in, but at boyfriends bezzie mates house, because the wired people were annoying.
there is a complete summary of my day, if you were interested. sucks for you if you weren't, because you were probably reading this and being like, man i hope this gets exciting soon because this is just some account of someones day. but no. you think it sucks to read it? this is my life! i live this shit motherfuckers! haha.

here is an account of my life writing-wise. i will try and explain the complex and retarded system i have.
i have two sketchbooks. one is black vinyl covered, and one is a blue papier mache pink pig notepad. in both, i make word webs of words i like the sound of, or words i associate with a feeling, or even a colour. i also make lists of small phrases i like, or descriptives i haven't found a way to use yet. for instance, i wrote a long list the other day of good descriptives for the way someone might smell. around this, i doodled a line from a johnny cash song i like, which is 'now here comes a creature for to save my soul' because i think it's really pretty and it helps me think of things i'd like to write about. i draw inspiration from feeling, and nuance, and themes. i don't know what draws me to certain elements of writing, but the way i write is slow, very intense, and fairly unproductive. i'm not prolific. i'll go for months without being creative at all (as this blog attests) and then suddenly BLAM i'll just have this flash of imagination, usually at stupid o clock in the morning, and i'll write and write until my brain feels empty. it's a system i've used for years, but i think it needs fixing because i just don't make enough effort as it is. hopefully when i start university something in my brain will kickstart and i'll instantly be awesome, but somehow my track record with motivation leads me to think that i am lying to myself.

well done for reading all that though, if you did. if you didn't, then what are you even doing. what are you doing here if you aren't reading? what are you, a creeper? get a life creeper!