i could sit here and say that things were hectic, that i felt decidedly uneasy the whole time, uncomfortable, unable to be myself, and with a longing all the time to be sat under a tree somewhere, or on a clifftop, rather than in a stuffy, badly decorated, noisy, crowded hostel.

but what were the good bits?
the swans in the dark.
the sleek diving bird, fan like tail in the water.
chocolate raisons first thing in the morning.
the surreality of seaside towns, mixed with the incredible blandness, the muted colours, all made me think it rather beautiful.
watching the bouy i had kicked the day before, begin to be gently rocked by the first waves of high tide.
simon talking about 24 hour daylight.

things were suspended for a while, and it wasn't until i got back into our house, and sat down in my usual place, that the warm orange feeling returned to me. i had thought a lot, but i hadn't allowed myself to feel anything. it gushed over me in only a second or two, like someone pouring over a bucket of warm water, pleasant at first but cold and uncomfortable afterwards. i've been trying to catch things as they float to the surface, before they sink again.

it has been accepted by me for some time that i may be dangerously close to being a hermit. but then, i realised this weekend, that this is not the case. i do not like spending time with people i do not like. (is there something wrong with that?) with people i do like, i wish to spend as much time with them as possible. unfortunately, there are not many people i like, as i put a high standard on "like".
i have thought before... perhaps i expect too much of my friends...