You're So Lost For Words... But You Know My Number

I know how to procrastinate with the best of them. I really, truly do. I have done nothing all week and it's Tuesday. To be fair I think I've actually left the house once or twice. Haha.

PKD came over today and we just hung out in my bed, talking utter wank and making the best kind of worst jokes.

I believe at one point it was actually discussed how we would like to be someone else, just so that we could be friends with the both of us - we're that good. Ha ha. It's moments like this that make me realise I'm pretty lucky in the grand scheme of things. I have an amazing best friend, life is not a difficult task at any feat these days, I've been all over the world and that's not slowing down anytime soon.
All of this stuff combined it makes me wonder why I even let the little stuff sweat me. I don't know why it's always drama with other people that makes me feel like I can't clear my head.

Funny how the biggest issues are never the ones that bother me, I can pretty much conquer that stuff with my eyes closed. I just can't deal with emotions. I'm really good until you try to get me to feel something confusing.

Give me bad, give me good - give me something but don't fucking give me confusion. Don't you dare - I can't hack it. I hate that people say it's the only time you feel alive, when you feel something a bit off colour - that's just such a load of wank. Feeling alive is not about feeling like someone has taken my stomach and tied it into little knots... it's not when you feel like you might actually throw up on yourself because you haven't slept in days. Feeling alive is a crock of shit. You are constantly alive. I'm not trying to feel alive, I'm trying to feel good.

At the moment, I'm finding sleeping really difficult. It's nothing new but the past few weeks have been much, much worse. I can't remember the last proper sleep that I had - if someone weren't sleeping next to me I'd probably never ever sleep. Maybe that's why I don't like that I don't see you anymore. My human safety blanket theory doesn't really bode well unless I can get someone that I can stand enough to have stay over each night, or a whole set of people to assign certain sleep-over nights too? Considering I'm not really a 'cuddler' I don't even understand why it works this way for me.
It's not that I am worried about being alone or anything; I know that's not what it's about at all. I think that when there is someone there it just takes the edge off my feeling so unsure at the moment, it pulls me back out of my head and out from the bad habits I'm forming.

Like, even though today was a damn good day - and I'm supposed to be getting ready now to go over to the boys house to hang with D, T and P but I still can't seem to shake the way I feel in my chest.
I started to realise in London that I find it really hard to leave the house until I am comfortable with myself completely, I've been doing it awhile but in my hometown it's easier to not realise your patterns, they become so stuck in their ways you don't even notice the half of them. It's outside my natural habitat when I see myself doing the same things that I start to understand who I am. I guess that's something both good and bad about travelling?
Either way, I'm not sure if it's the amount of substance consumed, or the lack of direction, or if it's just anxiety but right now I could really use a Valium or eight.

I think that it's both sad and comforting to know that the only sharing of my bed that I will legitimately ever be able to tie myself to for the rest of my life is with Diazepam.