Escape

"I'm gonna paste you up, cover you in wallpaper
Screw shelves into you and call you a wall
That's all you are to me, trying to keep people inside
Inside your sordid little house; this is no white abode

You can have skirting board shoes and plug sockets on your knees
I'll hang a painting on your lip
And put tinsel 'round it at Christmas
Trying to keep people inside, inside your sordid little house
Trying to keep people inside, inside your sordid little house.

You can't keep us inside much longer now
We've seen the view from the windows..."


I have an escape route.
It won't be much longer that I have to live with this. To put up with them hurting and doubting me. "You'll never manage," dad said. "You'll never cope." What kind of parent tells their child that?
And the shouting. If it's not at each other it's at me or someone else. The whole atmosphere in this house has become poisonous. I won't be sorry to leave, now. Not now that I have my escape.
It might hurt them, what I'm going to do. I don't much care anymore. They can't make me stay, not by law. And I won't let them use words.

Think

"Hello, I've waited here for you
Everlong
Tonight I throw myself into
And out of the red
Out of her head, she sang..."


He got me a fan. From Spain. It's plain blond wood and cream fabric.
He handed it to me and said, "For you! From Barcelona!"
I said, "For me?! Ohhhhhh Tam!"
He said "It was the only one which didn't have some tacky design on it."
I felt like kissing him.
It's one thing to get someone a souvenir, it's another thing entirely to actually hunt for one that the person will actually love.
Not everyone got a souvenir. But I did.
It makes me want to cry when people put effort into things like that and actually think about you.
I cried on my birthday, because of Jared's present. He got me a gray soft toy bunny rabbit which looked just like Wallace, because he knows what Wallace looks like, and a nice silver ring from Pascoes, because I'd said that I wanted a ring to remind me of him, and a homemade Dream Theater t-shirt with my favourite lyric on it. He listened.
Thoughtfulness is one of the most amazing things in the world.
That's why it is horrible how my parents no longer try and guess what I want for Christmas or my birthday. Because it means that they no longer know me or really care enough about me to know what I want.
The weird thing is that I say that I hate surprises. But what I really hate is when someone goes, "I have a surprise for you!" and then won't tell you what it is. I love surprises when I have no idea that they're even coming.
Like the fan.