[u][b]10.1.16    5:00 am[/b][/u]

Is this how easy it is? To slip back into those old slippers?

Wore them a long time ago here. I bet all the old names are gone. Bet they all grew up and got jobs and decided not to be hardcore pretend dicks after all. 

Anyway. I'm back. I think i'm using this place cos noone knows me here. Too many people know me in real life. I don't know what thats about because i'm actually a recluse. Unintentionally. I just don't have a life. Don't get out. I intend it to change. But i'm a divided person. Keep morally warring with myself which dictates my every day. 

So tonight. Yeah lets get started on tonight.

I was in bed, bored as fuck. (I don't usually swear but i'm going to tonight. For syntax sake) So i was laying there with those eyes that i don't see anyone else get. A sort of tired ugly look that only i can achieve. 

Massive puffed up eyes and mascara all under them. I was so exhausted. But i was fed up. Some mad MENTAL girl who's full on EATING my ex alive is currently at war with me through fake profiles she's made on facebook. My tendency is to block her each time. You know these southern girls who can't articulate and really need to get a guy and worship him because it's all they have. I think love is the greatest. The south has it right in establishing relationships as top priority. But the sheer lack of career motivation amongst girls in the south states of america leaves too much room for cat fights and straggly hair. I don't need that. So she's chasing me up even though i've not spoken to this (so much more than) best friend of 5 years, for a few months. At first it was highly interesting and amusing to see her talk. Like a specimen. But.. weirdly.. 

Yeah weirdly. Honestly... it's funny how our emotions are controlled by hormonal reactions outwith our logical control (great book to read which will teach you about this is "Emotional Intelligence" by Daniel Coleman. I 'found' that book in a charity shop by following Jesus exact "left... left .. right.. stop!" instructions. He literally told me exactly where to go in a massive library area of books. But i wasted His time and looked through them all for 20 minutes anyway. And it was STILL this one that i ended up with. Even though He told me to go straight to that number of that row on that table within seconds. Yeah. So.. weirdly enough we humans can't control our amygdalas too easily. And it leads us to react with impulse faster than logic. 

This impulse made me hurt. Even though this mad mental ex'es girl is a right midden and needs none of my polished time. Because i'm disappointed that a kindred spirit of mine (a true fleck of my soul) has gone and relinquished me to resonate with her. We could have been something.. You know. Something real. I'm talking bonnie and clyde. He's different. And she's just a typical southern streak of insecure simpleness. She's probably actually nice. Just... seriously simple. I hate that. 

So i'm there in my bed, scoring through tinder, with vocal commentary to every face i swipe no to. And it was dawning on me.. in that moment. .. that i'm just bored. I'm letting my youth slip by, STILL, to ... i have no fucking idea. I actually don't know which planet i've been on. But i'd had enough of it tonight. It dawned on me by the way she'd hurt me by providing a link between me and bubba, only to be an idiot link - deliberately talking ABOUT him to me, in actual embarrassing pride and ignorance *____*  This actual base DNA carrying being who is like my second skin somewhere out there. And this .. secondary level human with only half layer thinking she's boss. Aw God. You know i can't be doing with that. 

I was thinking. Why am i sitting in gaining amusement by this? Why am i waiting for her baited reply just to shred her insecurity a little bit further in? It's cos i'm bored. And i'm not in touch with my DNA counterpart out there any more. 

These types have names. We were first donned as "lumiere". I was. By StrAngel. But he can go hang until he comes on his knees to me. I had to contemplate this title. He said it was because i was a light in the darkness. I began to understand his title for me. And i noticed how some people ARE lumieres. Auroras. Beacons. SOME people. Just SOME.

And those types are completely different from your average. Their lives are completely spotlighted with weird coincidence. As if they are being monitored or directed by metaphysical forces. They act in wisdom they don't know they hold. They do things they don't realize are massive butterfly effects to whole crowds of people. There's something about these individuals. They never chose to be this way. They just are. Chosen. 

And we all have parts to play in this life. On this earth. So don't let anyone think less of you if you are a humble pilgrim who eases through and understands his moral conscience without needing to feel like being someone big. I am jealous of the content and 'normal' folk. I'm riddled with weird, affected experience. It's like my life is more puppeted by extreme forces than it is moved by me.

So i looked at my scruffy face and curl frizzled hair in the mirror tonight and said "yes" .. "you will go out.. you'll regret this if you don't". And i made myself call that taxi.. dress in simple nightclub gear, and i put my makeup on.. redid that face. I left the house THEN called my mum to tell her she had to babysit my one year old. I heard her arguments with me down the phone and told her i couldn't listen to her anymore. And from that moment on i was free. 

Free to fucking exist in a place where noone knew me. Oh God it was refreshing. 

Just the stupid, rave style music, DJ'd by someone who cared. The drinks and the dresses. People dressed up like they cared. But me being indistinguishable even among them. I came to the door without even having ID. I blagged my way in. I just lifted my arms up and looked to the front of that hall.. that massive room of people.. and zoned out to the music. 

Infact if i take it back to the start i went upstairs and threw back 2 jager bombs and a vodka coke and watched some guy on acid dance in the rock room. Then i realized the barman was hitting on me.. and the music got too happy. So i left. I went downstairs.. and i moved in amongst the crowds to be my own person. And i loved it. Everything. The noise. The youth. The ignorance. The messy makeup. The fat on the girls. The curious singing of the guys. Every guy seemed to be singing.. howling into the air. 

I loved it. And as if.. life is THAT easy. I found a group of people just like me.. all in a circle.. out of nowhere. The just opened the circle and adopted me in while i danced alone as if i were in phuket. And i noticed they all had THEE SHIT sense of humour. So i goaded them and played with until we were all howling too. We made moves and sang and acted out the seriousness of each song as if we were fucking amateur west end production christmas night out team. We DID it. Loved it. 

What could go wrong with this night? I thought.. nothing.. as long as i wasn't a shit and let some pleb guide me into thinking they could steal my precious time. So that's why even though this bulgarian semi pretty boy found me and had eyes for me with some MAJOR affectionate dancing on the floor.. i refused his kisses multiple times and we ended up parting. But it was even fun when we danced. No regrets. He lifted me up so high above the sea of people. I'd pose and give royal waves and i had the time of it. Let him lift me so high, and dance with me, spinning me and pinning me. But i didn't like the way he just wanted to kiss without any connection. I hate that. Weak kisses. 

You know what the teenage mutant ninja turtles swim past in the sewers when they're off to get a pepperoni pizza from splinter the rat in pipe 309? They fucking swim through jobbies and general water poured off boiled carrots, and other flushed nonsense like posh mens pee, and slobbers OH AND WEAK VOMMY KISSES FLOATING WORSE THAN SPORES OF MOULDY FAT.

Anyway. He left me so i was like.. clean break dude. Rejoice. And i bantered on my merry way. Took my time to check myself in the ladies toilets mirror. Jakester. My makeup had slidden, i virtually had no makeup by this point. I don't look pretty without makeup. 

I'm being serious. I look like a haggis kilt wearing piece of shit. Compared to fucking max factor glasgow girls that is. Honestly. I don't know what planet i came from. So i was looking at my complete potato face, and complaining to the gals next to me, when some chubby ass cellulite fat pretty thing came up to me with a brown fake tan face and amazing hair, and told me repeatedly i looked beautiful. I didn't need QVC to order her chat - i was buyin it. She was just the thing i needed. Her little orange face and love, made me want to be orange too. And i thought.. yes.. i'm going to fake tan soon. My white, pale maiden skin has to go. I need to be wonderful and outrageous like her. She was trying to get me in the VIP lounge with her friends who were celebrating a bday. But i said.. "they're shocking"! She said they were all gay. They were all lifting each other off the floor and dirty dancing together. I was like.. 

I need another drink.

Meanwhile.. on this new floor, which wasn't the rock attic, or the main rave hall - it was the rnb hip hop room.. i was observing who was around me. And there were many plebs of fine fettle. So many. I looked around. I saw pleb after pleb. Some boys were even sitting in their alcove doing serious stunt worthy hand actions to rapper shit. I was like.. "What is this grotto den of hidden awesome wonkiness; of mice and men and IDIOTS that i transpire to meander through. What yonder window breaks." I still needed my drink.

I only wish i'd been able to give personal commendations and possibly dance with that ash blonde boy who was too effed to give a cocks crow as he sat in the corner of his booth and arm hand actioned his way into self sufficient paradise. But it was the other one, the actual eejit skitey big boy with serious intent who went for me and pretty much had me on him from them on. For the rest of the night. By this time it was about the last hour anyway. 

We were just joking at the bar. By joking i mean.. throwing things everywhere and shouting and grabbing each others faces. He was so irritating, i couldn't get served. I was sobering up. I'd drank here and there throughout the night, but this was dismal. I was resorting to turning into a level 10 fool on him just to get things sped along and try regain some self preservation. But he wasn't on it. He was on me. 

He kept telling me he worked for morgan stanley. Ok so he told me like one or two times within a few seconds to inform why he was out, but i rolled with it and went fucking mental in his face about morgan stanley. I know some other girl who works there. And i think there must have been some kind of sugar still in my veins, because i just created a riot with him and his homies about it. Whatever. I think he found it absolutely hilarious that i didn't give a shit who he was. 

Good.

So then he probably asked about me. And i gave him nothing. I just kept getting irritated that i couldn't get a drink. By which time he'd called ME irritating, and was getting into me big time. Shut up. Piss off. I mean.. just don't turn out to be a fop, ok. 

But he wanted to use his elite physical aggression to hit on me now. And he began to open up. I found this soooo weird. 

I asked his name. He asked mine. I told him. Iona. But he didn't let on he knew more until some good few minutes had passed. And then he took me so aback. He told me my full name and that he'd met me 4 years ago.. for just a brief moment somewhere. He said "you're mega religious aren't you, you're into being holy". I was astounded. I was still taking the piss and generally acting like a ferret. But yeah.. he knew who i was and i couldn't pin point him. How had he met me? Surely i would have remembered him. 4 years ago?

He dragged me away from that bar, which had given us little reward, and we went back up to the rave hall. This time it was something else as an experience. We danced like we were hoodlum animals. We honestly owned the floor and had no decorum. I undid his belt and tried to rip open his jeans. I flashed my bra at one point too. He lifted me up over and over above the masses.. again. And he'd dry fuck me mid air with my legs round him as we messily kissed like two frogs doing time in jail. We made no sense. This kind of mess.. i get. 

My shoes are downstairs in the hall right now. They're filthy. They prove what kind of a night i've had. It was awesome. Me and this Christopher boy were such high energy fools. Lumiere? I dunno. I don't think so. But don't you think it's weird that in a club .. on a random, rainy january night (I haven't been to this club for YEARS and decided tonight that i'd have enough waiting around shit), in glasgows sauchihall st of many many venues.. this stocky, brown eyed predator had all my background info, and recognized me as a girl he saw for only an hour or so before... that many years gone by. I asked him with a moment of sheer disbelief if he remembered everyone like this. And he said no. 

So i ripped his face apart with kisses. And we drank more shots, and more vodka, and we scuffed about the floor in the middle of squirming, toppling mobs of youngsters. Aw i forgot to tell you what happened earlier on tonight. Hm.. do i have to get into that now? It gets so complicated. Ugh. My clothes were already pulled off by another guy i'm close to who i'd inadvertently made horny when we went out to the shopping mall together, I DIDN'T MAKE HIM HORNIE OKAYYYYIE, just because i was wearing a decent new bra which actually freaking supports my breasts for once. Boobs. That's all some men need. But claimed me to be sexy. And when he drove me home he used the ruse of putting my little one to bed to bed me. I never knew that's what he wanted until he closed my bedroom door and took me up against my bedroom wall. 

You know.. i'd much rather that ex with the psycho girlfriend was my bed partner. We actually had chemistry. This guy is just like.. a sensible, handsomey looking, all round nice, mummys boy type needing mothered, over organised simple to please phd student. From england. You know the oxford lifestyle when it's leaked into working class wit. That mix. You know. But anyway.. i felt kinda hollow after that loving experience. Because he was utterly turned on and lost his mind on me.. but even after it was all done.. i wondered how he'd gotten away with it.. and why i never came. I never do with him. Even though i care. He's just not my prince. Not my rough DNA.

So back to me on the dancefloor with this morgan stanley guy. Christopher. I guess i was having flashbacks to earlier which motivated me to break free even more. We just both /wanted/ to let go. 

And i could feel that Christopher was somewhere in the region now of actually caring about me protectively. I dunno.. i hugged him a few times. Hid my face in his neck between snaps of reality. And he played the male role.

And we scuffed about till the very end. We'd made every effort to be a menace of a duo within that closely populated edge of the dancefloor. the lights went up.. and we, like everyone else.. headed to the foyer and stairs, where streams of people who were LOUD began to congregated. When i say this was a scene, i mean it.. these people were absolutely HOWLING and CHANTING together. They sang SO many songs together in the stair well that you couldn't think or breathe. Christopher drunkenly repeated over and over that it wasn't safe. That it was too out of control. Every man was yelling into the air. All in waves of unison as new songs spread. It was weird. Staff had no chance in cooling it with them. Their voices and barrier arms were knocked and drowned out. On this rubbishy cold night.. did i experience something that never happens there? Was this a "moment" .. a memory? A moment in time that only those who were there can talk about now in awe, because it's never happened like that before, and wont again soon? I'm telling you, guys were filming it on their phones. There had to be hundreds of us, couldn't move, packed on the stairs. Stuck. Screaming and singing and stamping and chanting. I just wrapped christophers arms around me and focused out.

I had that oxymoronic return to innocence that i'd lost in the progression of the night. On the rock floor in the attic level, when i'd first walked in.. i'd stood with my drink by a barrel in a corner.. clapping to a group of girls dancing to metal music. Those same girls i'd spoken to later in the toilets.. i was showing one of them my boring cesarean scar which has ruined my body's looks i think. And obvs after that i got sweatier and sweatier till chris and i were smearing and wiping our pheromones away from each others temples. Slippy. But in that stairwell.. the sweat still there, he catered for me protectively, and my white cotton top symbolized my quietness and meekness in the face of this out of count crowd. 

We stepped into the rain. 

My small brown leather jacket, zipped right up to the neck like it was when i first stepped in the club. The rain heavily pelting through my loosed, messed hair. 

And the pavements were strewn with all kinds of sodden, trodden figments of litter. Everything was washed and pulped to mere strands of things, on this densely packed street of people. You had to look where you stood on the uneven concrete slabs of pavement. Homeless people, flower sellers, drunk folk. Rammy. And i called the taxi driver who'd taken me in, on the personal number he'd given me when he first had me in his car. He swore he'd come back for me as soon as i'd call him. I was pretty impressed. He'd been a good, careless chat on the way there. So here was me, and christopher.. the guys friend, messing around on sauchihall st, waiting to get our taxis. And we were trying all to make sense of each other. And the queues kept forming and we kept getting into them, then stepping out of them and walking half a street away in one direction and half a street back. It was funny to mock general people watching situations at first, but then the rain drained me a bit, and i began to insist i had to stand at my waiting point. My battery was on 1% and had died already as i was revving it awake to make sure i'd get the call back from my taxi man (in his pimped up racer style car.. :/ ) So anyway.. christopher said he'd never see me again, he'd bet. And i was like... "till next time", cos they found their uber taxi after all that, and i insisted they get in and leave me be. Its nice to see a gent who cares. It should be the done thing, but it's nice to be able to turn down the offer because i know i'm in a good place security wise. So i let them go. 

And i got in the racer car taxi. And he asked if he could pick up his friend on her way home from work too, and i was all cool with it. So a stripper waitress got in and talked to him all the way back to my town, and my fayer wasn't so high for that. And i spent too much money tonight anyway. Throwing it all away was worth it. I got in, after i'd rang my mums mobile and had her answer the door for me at 4 am. Put those filthy shoes in my hallway. Came up the stairs. Tidied my ransacked room (when i'd gotten read for the club in 5 mins), and took a long hot shower. Washed the rain out my hair. But i swear i can still taste christophers kisses. He had healthy mouth breath. Thats my favourite smell and taste. It's something hard to put down in words. Like an afterscent on the breath. 

Wanna know what the even more bomb shitzle thing is? I got a message from an unknown number on my 0% battery life left phone while in that taxi on the way home.. saying "sorry to fucking leave you out in the rain". I never fucking gave that guy my number. He'd still kept it from 4 years ago. When he met me in a moment i don't even remember. He could tell me my full name, my character traits and personality. And he still had my number stored. 

Well damn mi darned socks. That was no night of coincidence.

Stay tuned for another episode of.. ionas mental world. xx

Signing out.