BERLIN, JANUARY 2016
I gotta get outta the country. I gotta get outta the country. I just really gotta get outta this country. New Years in England sucks, it always, always sucks. Maybe New Years in general just sucks. Who fucking knows, the only memorable one I have is egging Sukis' neighbours house with Sam back in '08. Back when I was a real cunt. 'Start your year as you mean for it to go on' well I'm pretty sure whoever quoted that didn't have the intention of drunk dialling your ex boyfriend you cut off just before Christmas with a slur of an almost strung together sentence at 12:01, claiming for him to be the love of your life and you have no fucking idea what your doing without him. (After kissing some total stranger in a desperate bid not to be the only one without their 'midnight kiss' because after all god forbid you couldn't possible fathom the idea of starting the year off alone). You wake up and wonder, 'How much liquor did I drink for this crazy fucked up situation to make sense'? and cue the next miserable year of your life spent in some shitty relationship you knew oh so much better about. Cue this for the next eight years of my life.
So whatever. I got out the country. I didn't make the call.
I did however spend the evening like a true millennial glued to my phone and because I am happy to play the victim with this situation I am more than happy to say this is more than likely because I partied a little too hard, puked & passed out by 5PM. Yes, PM. So in some weird fucked up desperate bid to see the countdown in I started nibbling away at burnt to fuck toast and washing that down with OJ. It did the trick, it worked. Pour the Prosecco please. Still I was pranging out hard, needing constant comfort from the emptiness of an iPhone screen. I convinced myself I should of been home, if I had been home I coulda hooked up with the guy I was pretty in to, he had messaged me and I said a bunch of lame ass stuff back that I cringe hard at now, actually I'm gonna laugh about it, (let's not play the victim twice here) but I was kicking myself for not being back home. I'm not gonna hate on myself for looking back and not 'living in the moment' because whatever, I've moved on and learn tfrom that shit. New Years was pretty tame, we set off fireworks over Mauerpark screaming 'SUUUUCK MY DICK' a whole bunch of times with what seemed like the rest of Berlin and you know I did keep to traditions and send inappropriate texts, okay okay and calls. (You know who you are I'm sorry/laughing/dying). I took comfort in the fact I had my best friends around me, I had my best friends back home calling me so not seeing in the countdown locked on to someones lips was kinda okay, I still felt wanted, I still felt loved. I had a good time. I was asleep at 2am. Unlike England where I would look at my phone and think 'Whaaaat the fuck its 6pm 3/1' puking instantly on realisation, I woke up fresh and not full of regret the following day. And I took a whole lotta comfort in the fact the guy I was in to had messaged me asking why I wasn't in his bed. Though now I am not dumb struck needing a fuck, I totally realise this was only a booty call and I shouldn't of got caught up in the idea that this was a message he had sent exclusively to me.
Annoyingly the anxiety came creeping back in because it's me, obviously I got super sick. I spent my remaining days in bed hiding from the -11 bitterness of outsides but that was kinda fine because I got acquainted with Eastbound & Down and I was with my best friend and I wasn't home. But I was sick. I was real fucking sick. (I know you'll probably never read this but to the dude my nose bled all over on the plane journey home, I'm sorry. As if flying isn't bad enough!)
Annoyingly the anxiety came creeping back in because it's me, obviously I got super sick. I spent my remaining days in bed hiding from the -11 bitterness of outsides but that was kinda fine because I got acquainted with Eastbound & Down and I was with my best friend and I wasn't home. But I was sick. I was real fucking sick. (I know you'll probably never read this but to the dude my nose bled all over on the plane journey home, I'm sorry. As if flying isn't bad enough!)
So whatever, I'm rambling, I'm tired. New Years was New Years regardless of country or kiss, next year without a doubt I am sticking to my go to get up Ashish dress, get back on my back please.