Chic Happens

This is my online diary. Decided to move from an inner monologue to the internet, at the suggestion of a diary competition. I'll update whenever I can, although I can't promise that anything interesting will have happened. Wish me luck.


2. 8th May 2015

Funfact: The Native Americans used to use every single part of the buffalo to keep themselves alive - even the dung.

Funfact: It was a nice system, until the asshole settlers joined in and killed buffalo as a sport, not a necessity.

So I suppose I should say something about me, shouldn't I? I should get the ball rolling somehow. I like fun facts, there's something. I feel like fun facts are an easy tension-breaker. I say them in silences, and it say them in the middle of conversations. I feel like it's easier than saying how I feel, or what I've been doing recently. It's easier than talking in hushed voices about important issues.

But I supposed what someone would be looking for, when asking about me, would be the basics. The basics tend to be name, age, gender etc., but those are not my basics. My basics is my home, and I feel like it's what I want to talk about.

I live on the coast. I have memorised the sea, the waves, the movement. I know it all. I know the patterns, the colours, the sounds. I know what a stormy day, where the waves crash up onto the promenade, looks like. I know how the ocean looks when it's calm and the water barely touches your toes as it laps onto the shore. I could write a thousand words about the beach, but I know that it will never be enough to capture it. To capture how I feel when I sit on the same darkened bench and watch a dog and it's owner. To capture the smell, and how I love it on my skin and in my hair days after I've been for a swim. To capture the sounds of the seagulls and the children laughing, running, shouting.

I go past the sea everyday. It's nearly impossible not to. Everyday, on the bus, going to college, and every day coming back. I watch it when I don't want to talk and even when I do. I feel like it calms me.

I've been looking into universities recently. I have to, considering I need to apply by the end of the year. I want to do the Creative Writing course, and I took a long time, narrowing down the schools. It became an issue that I haven't taken English at A-level, and then later I narrowed it down further. By location. I cancelled out all universities that were too far inland. I may not like my coastal town in the south of England, but I sure as hell cannot outrun it. I know that wherever I end up, the water will be right there, lapping at the pebbles on the beach and over my feet.


Today, I went with Essie to Subway. The coupons had been shoved through the postbox a few days ago and I was up for it. She was up for it. We sat there for an hour in the overcrowded room, eating the food and getting as many refills as possible. I was determined to make it worth the money.

I very rarely get to sit across the table from someone, and I like it when I do. I've only done it a couple times; at those two seated tables. I remember doing it a couple years ago, but the girl I sat with doesn't like me anymore. To be fair, I don't really like her either. This time, across from Essie, I had fun. I like the tables because they feel intimate; official, really. I've liked the idea of going on a date to a table like that. I don't know why. I just like looking at people, and smiling and knowing that they're feeling something as well.

It's a shame I don't get to feel like that often.

I was thinking about this over the sandwiches, actually. I was imagining what I would be like to have a date at that table, as Essie splattered barbecue sauce over her face. Part of me imagined having the date with her, if I'm honest. I'm not attracted to Essie, and I don't have a crush on her. But I was just thinking about it.

I'm straight, I think. I like boys and they don't like me back. Unreciprocated straight, as I call it. It's like a one way road; whilst people who actually get dates are like a street. I sort of imagine the way I like people as a long road, with very little pavement. And it's as if I'm driving a two-by-four down the centre of it.

The only consideration here, is that I do imagine dating girls sometimes. I can't imagine myself being sexually attracted to them, but I don't think I would complain to kissing them. I don't really understand, if I'm honest. I was once told that it's 'bi-curious', but I feel more straight than anything. I don't think I would ever date a girl, but I wouldn't rule them out as being attractive.

I've never thought particularly deeply about this, and I don't think I want to anymore. I should stop writing, or it'll open up a can of worms that I won't be able to close again. 

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...