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Uhm, Cooling lava
Sometimes really I wish I were the sort of detestable person who could use a time like this to redouble their efforts and turn to something creative, be it art, work, charity, literature or whatever. I could focus the rest of my life on something and maybe, just maybe, achieve something. I just spend a few days moping around feeling sorry for myself and getting nothing done before returning to normality and useless laziness.

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Last night, I read through some of my old journal entries. While most of them are childish garbage, I was surprised at the continuing relevance of some of the more pithy axioms.

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Yesterday, I wasted my entire useless Physics coursework visit to the Greenwich Observatory (remember this, Ian de Boat?) We learned oh so very little and, despite the teachers' ravings, it was pretty shit from a work point of view. How I laughed at the people who were constantly making notes... Halfway through, I snuck off with a friend and we passed the boat museum and the Cutty Sark to go to a nice cheap pie shop. While the others looked at clocks and realised what gravity is, we chomped into fruit pies and ice cream and downed Heineken export.

Today, I walked into double Chemistry in the morning only to find we had a coursework experiment to do which nobody had mentioned previously. I made about a thousand errors to start with, but somehow managed to get stupidly accurate results correct to 0.001%. Or something.

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Philly left the second English lesson early. She complained of not felling well. Afterwards, I went to the chapel. I read plaques in remembrance of pupils who'd died young. I read the bible and looked at the prayer board. The notes written by Philly and I were taken down after one day, but there were four new ones. One shit one and one paraphrasing Matthew 7: 1-5 by some prole and two superb excepts from McD. Astute and poignant. I sensed I kinda knew what he was feeling... I burned a piece of paper.

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After lunch, my mouth tasted of foul saccharin from the meringue. I got changed and belatedly made my way down to games [by myself]. I braved the wind and rain and cold, the dreary dark and splashing cars and walked steadily to get to the rec. centre. I walked extra slowly past the door where Philly would be fencing. As I passed, I noticed the door was slightly ajar - I could feel the warmth and sounds and light emanating from within through that tiny crack.

As I walked, I made no effort to get out of the way of tyre-splash or roof drainage. However, up ahead, I saw Laura walking along and kept my distance avoiding, at all costs, from the girl Philly confides in. Hell, she knew I was there but didn't even make an effort to say hi. I hated her just like the way she hates me for being a bastard to Philly.

When I got to Games, I had nothing to do. I looked around and couldn't think of anything. I turned right around and walked back again [all alone]. Wrapped up warm, feeling forlorn, I dragged my trainers through the mud as cars aqua-planed through thin sheets of water next to me. When I went past the door again, I saw it had be slammed shut, firmly closed with a silent seal. I heard and saw nothing, and walked on again after one last parting glance.

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I walked round Green Court on my own after supper. As I walked, I looked out at everything and it all had memories for me. The stairs where we'd laid, the wall where she almost made me tip over backwards by hugging me so tight, the puddle I'd stepped in as she laughed, the fence we climbed over to get away and the ladder on the cathedral I'd pointed out all that time ago. Still, I couldn't find the answers to the questions I asked myself. Do I love her or hate her? Is she right for me or not? Am I right for her?

I could tell that it was freezing cold, but I felt a strange lack of sensation. I felt nothing, not the icy chill I should have, nor a comfortable, womb-like warmth - something different. As I walked through the night, I could barely feel the cloth of the shirt on my back. Luke came past as I headed back to my room, so we walked round together. He couldn't explain to me why he'd said Philly and I suited each other so well all those years ago. All he said was that I needed someone like her.

We walked round the cathedral and I lingered for a moment, brushing my fingers across the worn stone where we had sat on a freezing night like this the Wednesday before. The very last time prior to 17/10/2002, 16:43.16. As we walked back, Philly suddenly came by in the Dark Entry tunnel. She briskly brushes past after saying hi to Luke. She still hasn't said one word to me...

And then I came back to find no new text messages and Good Riddance start to play on my computer thanks to a fortuitously chosen WinAMP random seed.

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Tonight I'll be too tired to do anything and hence, do nothing. As I have done everyday this week. I don't have enough energy or will to sleep or write or work or play or watch TV. I find myself increasingly turning to this journal now as well. Perhaps it’s because I'm having to fill a void in my life that's recently resurfaced here.

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Today, I remembered something I've done here that made people laugh.

    mood: good riddance.
    choon: Smashing Pumpkins – Bullet With Butterfly Wings