November, Saturday 28th 2013
He was cute, I thought. The guy down at the rave who bought me several drinks and even tried to make a move on me. I just couldn't do it. The rave was illegal, which was just too much for me, I was not about to check "having sex in a rave" off from the list just yet. I kind of regret shooing him off now.
Either way, a cute guy was not the reason a douchy therapist sent me to buy myself a journal. Me getting a damned ASBO was. I didn't even know what an ASBO was until last night. That makes me a little sad because it proves I'm not as smart as I wished to be and also means I need to do some research on the topic. As a political sciences student, should I know this?
Dr. Callaghan says it is not my fault I got an ASBO and an orange jumpsuit to match, that feelings took over me at that time which is why I am now stuck with who knows how many days of picking litter and wearing an ankle track. I still think it's not fair that I got one because, like Doc said, I was overwhelmed at the moment and didn't know what I was doing. Unfortunately, they ran a few scans at a cheap hospital and they showed no anomalies. I don't believe them, though. Something must be wrong with me because I don't usually suffer from mood swings nor anything similar.
Did you know that by 2011, 73% of teenagers in the UK get ASBOs? In 2009 the percentage was of 53%. These kids are reckless.
Maybe I am doomed to fail. Scratch the maybe. There is no way I will be succesful now that I have an ankle tracker. It's silly but it just happened and there is no way out. My parents, the adoptive ones, are in New York so the chance of them finding out is little. Down at the police station they said the only reason why I didn't get deported for my behaviour were my studies (and grades) and that I was born english. Even though they didn't believe me I was born english, they went through files and their computers and found me. That spared me from a trip back to New York and an explanation to my parents.
Doc says I shouldn't ramble so much although I think what he is saying is sort of dumb considering I don't talk that much, do I? Fine. Maybe I do talk a little too much but that's only because - well, I don't know why, to be honest. It just happens. I have the theory many people don't like me because of this but no one has ever agreed to my theory so far.
When I hand this to Dr. Callaghan he will be so mad at me. I am sorry, Doc. It's not my fault. I just can't stop it. Don't send me to a psychiatrist because of this. I have the feeling you will, though. I don't know why. Your stares make me uncomfortable and make me feel like a loony. I know I'm not crazy. I'm not, am I? Please tell me I'm not, as long as that is the complete truth.
I'm scared that people at community service will be mean or rude. Despite being used to being kicked and mocked, I'm scared things will get worse. I hope no one carries any guns around because that wouldn't be nice. The UK has one of the lowest rates of gun homicides in the world so maybe it's not that bad. Well, I can only hope.
I am already bored of scribbling down on this silly journal in old fashioned cursive but I still haven't gotten to the point in which I explain, in full detail, what happened on Friday. I couldn't speak that night when I was taken to the police station and I couldn't talk to Dr. Callaghan about it either. Only about the cute boy, though, and that I was hammered and had drugs on me that night. The Oxy was really good. It bothers me a little that it was taken away from me on Friday because it took me lots of work to get it from a friend's roommate. Well, he is not my friend. He is more like an acquaintance who is studying Philosophy and thinks he is the reincarnation of Sartre. In easy terms, he is an asshole and I don't like him. Whatever.
I walked out of the rave accompained by the cute guy, whose name I think was Calleb. His last name was in the top most common family names in Britain, I recognised, but I won't write it down because I do not want to involve him in all of this, specially not when there is an ASBO in the middle. He was kind enough to offer me a lift to my tiny loft but I turned him down and said that if he accompained me the way out and bought me a Sprite it would be just fine. He didn't buy me a Sprite because I went crazy a little before that. I think I might have scared him. He gave me his number but I don't dare calling him back, to be honest.
