I sort of zoned out on the bus. I’m difficult, I know that. Sometimes… a lot of the time I need to be locked in my bubble. I need quiet. It’s not because I’m mad or sad or anything else, it’s just so I can be. I think that’s hard for a lot of people to get. It’s not a personal thing against anyone else it’s just that I have known very few people in my life in whose company I can completely relax, let my limbs go limp and stop holding my breath. It’s not anyone’s fault I just don’t know if I’ll ever be able to find that complete calm anywhere in the company of a boy. There are bits that limit. I can’t explain it, that’s just the way it is. It takes effort for me to be in someone else’s company a lot of the time like that. Sometimes I just want peace, just to be able to move the way I want without having to explain anything to anyone.
We stopped in Armagh to get a crunch corner and I was more content. I rinsed my paintbrush in a half empty bottle of peach water and painted words all over pages to confirm my mind in that time. It was frustrating only in that my paintbrush was moulting all over my pages.
We arrived in Dublin and headed for Litton Lane hostel down a cobbled alley just off O’Connell Street, looking over the Liffey. We appeared to be in the middle of a taxi strike, they queued up over the bridge honking their horns like mad. I could only hope that we wouldn’t spend the night in the middle of this. I got lucky. We hopped on the sightseeing bus if only to get our bearings bit it was all we could do not to fall asleep because I for one was shattered.
We wandered around and ate pizza, headed to the Temple bar to dodge in and out of the adorable pubs down the maze of cobbled lanes. Steve Irwin died today so there was a mass tribute going on in one of the pubs. It was packed to the rafters with Dubliners, Aussies and tourists alike. We watched an irish girl sing I Come From A Land Down Under before we sauntered on. We topped off the night with expensive Guinness and a chat with the bartender, as you do.