Tiger Lilly, Lilly Pad, Lilly Pilly, Lilly of the Valley

I have just had an amazing weekend. I went up to Gunbower (weapon bedroom?) for the weekend. I stayed with a friend, swam in a river and avoided showers. I drank vodka, swayed in a vodka and had a picnic with myself. Everyone kept trying to make a big deal out of this being during exam week. It had to be! I needed the peace and lack of calamity. I slept on a couch and had bacon for breakfast. I preferred it. I'm trying to bring myself to terms with the fact that I would much rather be my happy than successful. I partially need to learn this in case I don't get into my choice of uni but also because it is just who I am. I don't need money, I need platypuses and water birds. I don't need a huge house, I need my life within walking distance. I can't do country living, it hurts to be so far from the people I love. I just need escapades. Like weekends with Kim or running to Cowes late at night. That's one thing I couldn't take with Kim, especially with my dad around to aggravate the situation further. She looks at me like she has her best friend back and then can't forgive me for not being her. I can't do everything for everyone. I need some things for myself. I am weird. I know it. That does not mean that every single little fun thing I do is part of my breeding. Oh, Amy's a bit of a loony tune? That's so Carolynne? You want to know a little bit of truth? She stopped raising me at eleven. You can take my spontaneity and outbursts and cute little games and blame that all on my father. The silence. The anger, depression, scars, suicides, attention span. They come from being and not being raised by him. People need to stop giving me someone elses life and then claiming I break their hearts by only reaching halfway to their expectations. I don't want to be her. I'm happy to evoke memories and listen to stories but don't hate me for being unable to raise the dead to more than a face. That is not my problem.