A cocktail of emotions: shaken, not stirred.

So, I finally did it; i finally moved away from the horrors and into the bright lights - London. It's quite an odd sensation if i'm quite honest with you, well, i guess every move is, and i'm not entirely sure why i thought this one would be different. This past week has dragged on, but in a good, exciting, scary way. I feel like i have the 'L' plates on though; I feel like i'm naughtily sticking on a disabled parking permit onto my windscreen. if that makes sense? Basically, i know i am capable of a number of extremely amazing things, but i choose not to be.

Up and down; high and low in a space of a week? Well, this is what i call temporary bi-polar disorder,

I'm currently sitting on my bed in my Parisian apartment styled bedroom with a sunflower from Ikea (poor, much?) sitting on the window sill. I've been here for one week exactly, but it feels more like twelve.
After dreaming for so long about the moment i'd "arrive" in the big smoke and all the anticipating, it's quite a let-down. Nothing seems so bright anymore and all the idea and fantasies i had had about how i would change and be more adventurous, and how i'd meet interesting people with the same thirst for knowledge and inspiration as me have all gone to pot. Unfortunately, i had forgotten that i would be the same person as i was back in hideous Milton Keynes and Northampton, which means all the fears and weights i had back there and then i still have now, but just in a very 'dog eat dog' location.
I want to get a job and meet new people even if it is somewhere rather naff, but i can't. Self-doubt prevents me from doing this. I want to travel into central London and explore, but i can't. Again, self-doubt but also a slight slither of paranoia creeps in and holds me back.
I wonder why i ever dream and aspire to be something i am clearly not. I wonder why i moved myself from safety right into the snake pit.

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I've almost settled in: i know where my local shop is; i know where my stops'n'stations are, and i know that London is a mere train ride away. I've not been able to get a job yet, but good things come to those who wait, right?
I want to achieve the very best. It's asking a lot as i, well, have no qualifications to my name (i'm a serial quitter, y'know!) But, i have always had high expectations in life.

Tomorrow, i meet a man. A man i am very fond of, but he's a man with a lot of attractive girls in his 'top 8', which, in this day in age, means he's a bit of a 'playa'. Or i could be wrong. This new digital media does that to you. It's a complete head-fuck. Anyway, i've come to the conclusion that i am in deseperate need of a man. I need someone to look after and to be looked after by. I need someone to be there when i ask for help, who actually cares and who gives me genuine advice.
I can't be doing with the games that people have decided to play because they are so insecure. I cannot be dealing with any more obstacles. Lame as this sounds, but i just want to be loved.

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There's work experience at BBC 6 Music (my favourite radio station) and i would love to be involved with that, but i just know that the negative thoughts will come through and stop me. God, why can't i just follow my own advice? I'm here and so i should bloody well kick some arse!

Okay, so it's 4 hours 'til i have to get up and listen for the delivery man so i must go and sleep a peaceful sleep and thank the Lord that i have poured my little heart out all over a ridiculous, voyueristic website.

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