I'm happy again. You may choose to think I am fickle and shallow, but my in my good mood I hae decided that I simply have a cheery and loving disposition. I spent last night, once again, grinning instead of sleeping. After retiring to bed fo a fourth time at around half four I finally did achieve sleep a little after. I know why I'm finding it so hard to sleep at the moment. Well, harder than normal (I am naturally a little insomniac, but I'm getting to sleep later and later). I think it's just because I'm not doing anything to get me tired. So I'm working on a solution. Last night, around quarter to three, I got out of bed, put my recently burned CD of songs that mean things to me (or are just plain cool (it starts with "I Want You by Moloko, which is (and I don't use this word lightly) fucking gorgeous.)) and danced around in the best way I can. Thankfully, even with the orange of the street lights and the blue of the next day, noone would have been able to see me, as I must have looked a complete idiot. My dancing 'style' was never intended for public display, involving as it does much flailing of limbs (the left arm in particular) and singing to my many plastic figurines rescued from cereal boxes. And, of course, it was far too hot to danced fully clothed, so I was forced to remove my pajama top. I wouldn't take off any more, of course. The sight of my rolls rolling is bad enough, nevermind the thought of gyrating genitalia. But, of course, none of that could have been possible if I weren't already in a good mood.

Why was I in a good mood? Well, at the start of the night I was in a good mood because I turned out to once more have been being a self-indulgent fool, and J didn't hate me. So that kept me smiling. But what got me really grinning was reading "Cloud Atlas" and falling in love with the second narrator, one Robert Frobisher. I've never been in love with a fictional character before. Or a bisexual (Notice how I've casually taken to assuming E's gay). Or someone quite so cocky. So plenty of firsts all round. Unfortunately, we only get sixty pages of his charming voice before the third part begins, each part being so far hardly related at all. The first part is a series of diary entries, which we later here have been found by the adorable Frobisher, and the recipient of Frobisher's letters (the second part being told epistolarily (Actually, there are a surpising number of words related to epistolary (pertaining to letters, for the less well schooled (oh go on, let me patronise a little)). I once structured an English essay around including ten of them. Terrible essay, but more fun to write than most of my others)) appears to be one of the main characters of the third part. Intriguing, non?

I'm rather pleased to have found a fictional character to love. At least I don't have to blame myself for our lack of relationship. But I don't really feel I need my amorous feelings to be reciprocated, not yet. I get enough of a glow from simply loving, I don't need people to be in love with me, though I do hope there are people that love me (I'd like to say I know and indicate J, but I'm far too afraid ever to make such definite statements about other people's feelings and perceptions of me.) And it would be nice to be kissed, just once, in that way, but I suspect the closest I could get to that for a while would just be out of pity, so I won't hold out any hope.