I am the kind of person who shouldn't attend big meaningful events. Even though I dread them, a part of me gets a little bit excited - there's the build up, the prep, the actual day, and then there is the day after. The day after is the worst. During the build up, your emotions are allowed to flourish and be all over the place, you don't have to define them and organise them into a little box, but afterwards, when the reason for your excitement has been and gone, when you've had your three seconds of fame, when you're left with all these feelings that don't want to go away, what are you supposed to do with them? You can't just make them go away! So instead you sit there, still with the latent excitement of the day itself, in awe of the fact that you did something meaningful and worthwhile, pondering the events that happened, and the things that you wish did/didn't happen, wondering if you will ever escape this weird daunting feeling that has made a home within your brain. I love organising things, it makes me happy when everything has it's own little place, or a specific order, messy things hurt my brain. So I am sure you can imagine what it is like when the thing that you want to organise most, is pretty much the most impossible of them all: the thoughts in your own head.  You can't make a list, colour code, colour coordinate, alphabetise, numeratise (numerical didn't really work in the sentence), nor can you just put them in a box, label it 'I'll sort you out later' and then shove it under the bed. You have to carry this unorganised mess of thoughts and feelings around, until they sort themselves out. Sometimes it may take a few hours, other times it could take weeks! Weeks of these thoughts, getting tangled up within new thoughts and old thoughts alike; all the feelings spewing out of their designated brain compartments and mixing together like a dodgy science experiment! And then the panic sets in!

I didn't set out for this post to turn down the alley of, Death, Doom, and Destruction, but that's the thing about writing: when you start, when you really start, you don't stop, you don't think, it just happens. I think that's how you know you're a writer, when words just fall out of you, through your fingers, into the pen and onto the page. Obviously not 24/7, if that were the case, maybe I would have finished my darn novel by now.

I wanted to write about my graduation, and how that three years ago I was nervously waiting my A level results, not knowing what the future had in-store for me, but I think I will save that for another time. I am glad that I graduated, and I am proud of myself for all the hard work I put myself through, especially as I have had teachers all the way through school that didn't believe in me. None of them thought I would make it to university, and the fact that I graduated with pretty much the highest grade possible makes me want to photocopy it and post it to them, just so I can say that I have proved them wrong - but I am supposed to be an adult now, so maybe I wont do that.

Now I guess I need to find a job. Anyone hiring?

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