Counting Sheep.

I'm tired. In fact, I'm always tired and at the moment I'm finding it difficult to sleep. I'm restless, have weird dreams and I'm pretty sure its because I'm in a new place. This isn't the first time this has happened, and I doubt it will be the last, but it is starting to wear thin and my eyes are starting to show off my lack of sleep. I need to find a way to correct this. And fast. Rather than lying awake until it starts to get light outside, planning my day, going over things I've read in my head and wondering how much it longer it will be before I finally nod off.

Some Days I Only Think About You Once.

When I was a kid, I used to daydream. I used to think about flying away to far away places, or doing something I would never normally do, something outrageous and out of character. Then I'd sit and write them all down, save them for a later date and make stories out of them. Truth be told, I still do that. But I've also started doing things that are out of character and so the things I'm writing down are no longer just fantasy - they're things that happened, sometimes embellished a little, but overall a recount. Something that at a later date triggers things I've forgotten and reassures me that it was all real.

I'm easily distracted. I follow a train of thought, nonsense and dreams, or pure reality, and I lose all sense of what is going on around me. Sometimes it's a problem, especially when trying to complete a mundane task that has no appeal at all. One of my favourite things to do, usually at the most inconvenient times, is to sit and watch the clouds, how they move and become totally aware of the world moving around in a way we can't control. I think about the sheer amount of people in the world, and then the people I know, and wonder what they might doing right this instant, wherever in the world they might be.

Please Speak Softly, Or They'll Hear Us.

A year is a long time. 12 months. 4 seasons. Countless nights out, hours of conversation, masses of tears, uncountable laughing fits and too many words that can never be taken back. So much can happen in a year; today is A Level results day and I think back to myself this time last year, full of celebration and excitement at knowing I'd achieved my dream and got where I wanted to be. That day doesn't seem like a year ago, but when I think about everything I've learnt, experienced and all of the people I've met, it really has been that long. Time has just passed at an accelerated rate.

What I've been thinking is about how much has happened that I never thought would. Three things in particular that I won't go into, but they are by far some of the best (and in one instance, in an odd way, the worst) things I have ever done. I don't believe in regrets, I believe in looking back objectively and knowing their was a reason why you did what you did, and that should be enough. I've always prided myself on having a good memory, and it never fails me at the moment. Never. Especially when I'm alone and have too much time to think. And what I remember, is silence, broken only by the sound of breathing and the beating of a heart.

Letting someone take your hand is a dangerous thing to do.

Sleep All Day, Up All Night.

A habit I never before had has recently developed, and by recently I mean in the last week. I go to bed at a ridiculous hour and barely see the morning anymore. Over and over again. I moved last week - last Tuesday to be exact - and having spent time alone I've learnt the best way to make the time go quicker: sleep. There's not much to do when living alone. I've read books, watched TV shows and all the time I find myself getting bored, wanting something more to do. The problem is that no one is here and so I have resigned myself to the fact that even if no one is talking, I like company. I like to know that someone is there, even if it is in another room. Pathetic? Perhaps. But when the floorboards start creaking at 3am, it is more than a little comforting to know that you're not alone and that the sound is more likely than not someone you know.

Jabberwocky.

It turns out that living alone has as many negative points as it does positive. No bedtime and no set time to get up because there's no one to disturb - positive. There's no one to disturb also means that there is no one to talk to - negative. So, since the move, I have watched almost an entire season of One Tree Hill, half a season of FlashForward, far too many history documentaries online and Tim Burton's 'Alice in Wonderland' which still managed to disappoint me. As it goes, Helena Bonham Carter as the Red Queen is amazing, and her outrage at the thought of Alice killing her "jabberbabywocky" made me giggle. A lot.

Oops.

Its moving day. I have to be ready to go in about 3 and a half hours and I am nowhere near ready. There are things I fogot to pack, things I've been given that need to be packed and instead of getting on with all of the things that I have listed to do, I'm lying on my bedroom floor watching Futurama and typing this. I should probably get a move on.

Probably.

Corsets, Sex and Absinthe.

So, last night I curled up and watched Moulin Rouge, one of my favourite films ever, and as per it got me thinking about living in another time. Could there be a place more exciting and magical than Montmarte in the 1890s? A place all about expressing artistic talents, being free to be whomever you wanted, where sex and drinking were all part of the expectations. I know the film only shows that time in an exaggerated way but the clothes amaze me, the corsets and stockings, the sex and love is intriguing and forbidden and the drinking of absinthe makes me wish I could have seen it with my own eyes.

I believe in some kinds of magic, that is one kind I believe in, and if I could choose to live in any other time, that would have been it.