Δευτέρα 3 Φεβρουαρίου 2014

[I am running out of titles - imagine what would happen if I posted more often than once every 6 months]

So I'm back in the UK demons and angels always with me, and I look back over the Christmas period where I went back to Greece for about two weeks. All I can think of while pondering on them two weeks is, I shouldn't have gone back I did not enjoy being there, although I met with friends and people I love and enjoy being with, I did not enjoy my time there. It seemed fake. It seemed as if I was meeting with people because that's what I should be doing, that's what people that are away and come back do, meet up. It felt I was going out because I'm only here for a couple of weeks, I should go out and enjoy myself. It just didn't feel the way I would have liked it to feel.

And here's my point; did "it" change or me? Or both, or neither but my perception of the "it" changed. If something changed, why did it change? Did I not like the change in itself, or the result beyond the change? So many questions and all I have is more questions to pile up. There were a few things over that break that I wish weren't there, like the revision I had to do and didn't do, that left me with a feeling of "you'll pay for this later" like a prolonged, delayed hangover after a night of cheap tequila, but one that hits you on a Tuesday after a Saturday night out, and lasts 'till next Saturday. Mind you I very much paid for it.

There were a few things that I quite enjoyed as well, catching up with an old friend, and feeling like the honesty of our relationship was still there, he's a friend that we've drifted apart, but he's also a friend that I feel no matter how apart we drift, it won't matter next time we meet, the important things will still be there.

What do I want to say here? Why am  I typing at four in the morning when I have a 9am class? Well mainly 'cause I couldn't get any sleep. Also because I haven't written in some time and every now and again I get the urge to write, even though I might not have anything to say. Ah who cares, it's not like this is the front page of the guardian.

I have this feeling that I'm doing something wrong. Something wrong with my studies, like I'm not putting as much effort as I should in them. I'm slacking, and I don't like it, but at the same time I'm not doing anything about it. I know this feeling. I've been there and I so don't want to go down that road again. Why am I verging on it again though? The situation is massively different this time around. Or is it? Maybe it's not THAT different. I'm studying, I have very little of a social life, I'm putting myself in a routine I can mindlessly follow and all of that is leading me to being depressed again.

It can fuck right off. I ain't getting depressed again. Fuck that shit. Once's enough. Oh, hello revelation, it might not be THAT different, but there it is, that ever so subtle difference. I saw it coming. Rephrase; I'm seeing it coming. That's why it's different this time around, I can see the depression heading towards me, or rather me heading towards the depression. Last time I had circled twice inside it before someone drilled inot my head I was depressed. Last time I had no clue. Not again. It can fuck right off.