Every line in your palm [June Journal]

13/06/2017
Today’s prompt: What is home?
Home is walking through the doors and leaving all pressures, all standards and requirements at the entrance. It’s being free from prying eyes and worrying if you’ve accidentally pulled your socks over your leggings. It’s being free from dreading another human being talking to you or asking you a question when you’re just trying to get home please leave me alone.
It’s taking off any fancy clothes, it’s taking off the uncomfortable shoes and it’s changing into baggy sweatpants and a hole-ridden hoodie. It’s giving yourself a head massage and tying your hair back up, washing your face of grime and pollution and freeing yourself from the worry that there’s lipstick on your teeth, or that your foundation is sliding off.
It’s grabbing all the snacks you can find and falling down onto the sofa in a blanket. It’s turning on the tv and watching cartoons whilst stuffing your face with sausage rolls, crisps and yoghurt after a day of carrying yourself with an air of dignified wisdom. It’s whinging, howling with laughter and burping out loud after a day of stifling your sneezes and being careful not to laugh too loud.
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To do and not to do – Ramadan

I’m salivating in my misery too.
Oh yeah, in said misery, I forgot to say it’s Ramadan…
I’ve noticed a few people have been reading this old Ramadan post that I wrote last year, so I should really come back with another one. The problem is, I don’t really have much to add to that post. So, er… Isn’t it weird and beautiful how the weather suddenly took a turn for the cooler/windier/rainier as soon as Ramadan began?
I do have some questions. Why are girls posting snaps of themselves half naked, and snaps from weeks ago from when they were in the club? Wherefore? I don’t know what guys are doing but I’m guessing taking videos of themselves driving in their car with music on? I say that because girls are doing it and guys are even more douchey.
I digress. I’m supposed to be trying to stay positive.
As I’ve mentioned before, I’m very lethargic this year. I’m finding it difficult, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the acceptability of snacking at 1am. Once again, I’m losing muscle and fat in the wrong places.
Anyway enough about me, shut up, here are some dos and don’ts:
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Itchy feet for a change of scene [June Journal]

10/06/2017
Today’s prompt: A new thing to try
Starting to work towards a completely new future that I’m not prepared for.
Okay, let’s start small. I realise these posts are just a way to distract myself.
I want to travel. I don’t travel. I have never been anywhere except two family holidays which don’t count because I was young.
 
I wrote a couple of posts before about how important it is to explore the city you’re in, how important it is to build up the friendships you have in those places. Ironically, I didn’t follow those words after that.
But now I can, and I will. I’ll start by fully enjoying London, and then hopefully, unless the political climate worsens, everywhere else in Europe (except France, fuck France). Either with willing friends or by myself. I want to go, just go, I want long weekends in Austria, Sweden, Germany. I’ll even go to Morocco. I just want to get out of this country for a while, this city. I want to get away from all the toxicity around me; I don’t want a fancy hotel and an expensive trip. I just need a flight and somewhere to sleep.
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You will never love me again

I’m just trying to find a friend that I can kick back with.
Maybe listen to Fleetwood Mac for hours whilst getting shit done. Write music. Sing songs with so much passion at the top of our lungs and convince ourselves we wrote them.
Or take some mescaline (thanks, Kurt) and see who can come up with the wildest stories (whilst listening to Jeff Buckley) and draw. Stare at the ceiling and talk about literally everything. Rant and talk shit about the people we hate. Tell them my struggles and not be judged or ridiculed or ignored. Someone who will be there whether it’s 4pm or 4am.
I want to be high as hell when I tell them something that’s bothering me, and they’ll be high as yike defending me to the death and coming up, in the utmost seriousness, with an elaborate plan to kill whoever pissed me off. And we’ll both believe it’ll happen even though later on we’ll laugh about it. But they weren’t joking and I’d have to stop them from doing something insane.
Reserve Sundays for formula 1, obviously.
It’s me. I’m describing myself.
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Hey Assbutt: 'He/she can't even speak English properly'

Sorry. After a long, long break following my dissertation deadline, I’m back and I’m pissed off.
I must have missed the memo.
Since when was the ability to speak English a marker of intelligence? Since when was it necessary for one to measure themselves against your bullshit standard of superiority in order to be validated? In my opinion, Germans do everything better, and Asians are some of the most driven people I’ve ever come across. So why don’t we measure intelligence based on how well we can speak German, or Korean?
‘Because English is an international language’, I hear you cry. SO????
Say it with me: YOUR ABILITY TO SPEAK ENGLISH SHOWS NOTHING EXCEPT YOUR ABILITY TO SPEAK ENGLISH!!!! LITERALLY JUST THAT!!! Not your intelligence, not your character, not your worth, literally nothing else!!!!! And then say it louder for the uncultured folk at the back.
English is not pre-wired into our brains. You have to learn it. You, a native English speaker, had to learn it. Whilst it may be hard for you to realise, those of you who say ‘lol you can’t even speak English properly’ were pushed out of the vagina screaming and crapping yourself and not being able to speak a damn word of anything until your fed-up mother began cursing around you and your first word was ‘shit’. And then you went on the rest of your life being able to speak English, only English, and you even suck at that. Do you even know how to use a semicolon? Do you know in which situations you should use  ‘who’ and ‘whom’? Sit down.
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Mental health + university

All ye who indulge in schadenfreude, gather round.
It’s not mental health awareness week/month/whatever, but alas, not everything is restricted to a particular time of year. I talk about this now because, as a third year student, the pressure when you have looming deadlines and a dissertation that will basically determine whether or not you just wasted £27,000, is crippling. In addition to everything that crippled you before university.
So understandably, a lot of us are faltering in the mental health department. I’m not saying that a lot of us suffer from mental illness, because a lot of us don’t. I have already spoken about how too many people claim ‘depression’ or ‘bipolar’ when they don’t actually suffer from these illnesses, but that doesn’t mean our mental health doesn’t suffer. Much like physical issues, our brain sometimes suffers
It often comes in many contradicting forms. Maybe you stay up until dawn, downing red bull and coffee for hours until you’re seeing shapes dancing around in front of you, telling you it’s time to go to bed or you’ll collapse. Maybe it’s rejecting all invitations to go out, go shopping, relax, because you have too much to do and you couldn’t possibly deal with the guilt you’ll feel when you get a horrible grade, because it’s obviously due to that one day you took off. Maybe you consistently study because it’s the only thing to distract your mind but at the same time it’s burning you out. Maybe it’s the tendency to sleep all day and all night because you have so much work to do that your brain and body just can’t deal. Maybe it’s going out all day everyday just to avoid the 5 deadlines you have next week. Maybe it’s people telling you you look sallow and tired and that you’re working too hard. Maybe it’s the fact that you can’t remember a time where you had the energy to be genuinely happy about life because life itself is begging to leave you.
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