There's something wrong between J and I. I know there is, i can sense. I don't know what though. It's been like this a while. And i've sort of assumed that it was something J was doing, something he wasn't saying. But i've started to think that actually it might be me. And i think i've now forgotten my reasoning for this. I had it all worked out last night, i promise. Part of it was to do with how i eventually make some attempt to alienate every one of my friends, but i seem to remember there being more to it than that. It might have been to do with realising he wasn't and couldn't be in love with me.

I don't think i'm in love, however shallow that love may have been, with anyone at the moment. I'm still obsessed with E, of course, but i've fallen out of love with him again. And i've explained about J. Naturally, as i have no life, i will be spending most of the summer hols inside, on my own, and it's rather unlikely that anyone i feel even a passing attraction to will turn up here. So i suppose i'll have to go back to living through my books again.

I'm eighteen now. Seventeen and fifty three weeks. It's not so much the aging i dislike, more the maturity and responsibility that's supposed to come with it. The only thing about me that has properly matured is my taste in books. I've gone from reading fantasy and it's ilk to reading (or trying at least) only books written a long time ago, digested by many others and looking down on fantasy to reading pretty much anything. Including picture books, which nobody else seems quite to appreciate. But i am really running out of space. Every shelf of my bookcases that doesn't have the space in front of the books filled with useless clutter (toys from cereal boxes, decks of playing cards, remnants of GCSE art projects and the like) has a second layer of books. Last Friday i bought thirteen books in one day, possibly the most i've ever bought in one day. (apart from the complete set of Famous Five books, which were very cheap through a book club a long time ago) It's a weakness, i know, but they were all so beautiful. Three of them were picture books, including one by absolutely my second favourite picture book (Note how i refuse to refer to them as 'children's books'.) illustrator of all time. (Shaun Tan being my most favourite, of course.) It was only partly my fault. Lot's of people had given me money or book vouchers for my birthday and they expect you to spend it.

I promise my blog will get more interesting eventually. Perhaps when i go to university.