Saturday the 21st of November

The loss of my homepage is devastating. I put so much work into it, having destroyed is like being amputated or something. I can cope with loosing most of it – I was going to do a complete revamp anyways, and this is a good excuse to get my ass into gear. The thing I hate though is that my Journals were lost. I didn’t have backups. I don’t keep a paper journal anymore (past three weeks excluded). So basically, I’ve lost my emotional records of the past three months.

Actually, maybe that’s a good thing. I know I’m getting increasingly introspective and open in my journals – I guess having too much time to think without IRC will do that to a girl. Now I’ll keep hard copy records. And load to my geocities page as well. Call it Life Insurance if you like.

In the Bakehouse this afternoon, the cafe next doo was playing Madonna’s ‘Oh Father’. That song smacks of when I was eleven, and had first moved to Japan. Bitterly unhappy, I wrote my own version of the lyrics:

“Oh Father, if you never wanted to hurt me,

if you never wanted to end my life

why are you making me stay?”

And then, to the tune of Rod Steward’s ‘Sailing’;

I am crying

I am crying

or is it dying

because I’m here

I am trying

to get back home

so I can live

so I can breathe

I wonder if I can sue the the govt for abuse. Despite how privleged diplomat brats get to be, they also have their lives right royally fucked up.

It’s so nice to be home after such a tremendous year. It’s nice to have my Tori Tapes back, to immerse myself in.

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