one girl's demise to insanity.

Tue, 01 Sep 2009 22:13:51 GMT

you are sleeping, you do not want to believe.

somehow i don't think any of us do. believe that we are crazy and fucked up and beautiful and psycho and depressed and high and manic and laughable and smoking and drinking and ENJOYING OURSELVES OCCASIONALLY and smiling and going home and crying our fucking eyes out and cutting and smacking and bruising and bleeding and loving and acting and singing and dancing and laughing and being sarcastic wankers to each other and eating chips for lunch and counting calories and worrying about going to visit your sister and reading and writing and thinking and thinking and we never stop thinking.

birthdays make me sad. i AM the sad clown. the sad clown story pretty much sums up my life pretty fucking well. for those don't know the sad clown story:

there was once a man, and he went to his doctor. he said, "doctor, i just feel so sad all of the time, i don't know what to do about it, because i just feel so sad." the doctor could tell he was upset, so he told him, "there's a clown in town, who's absolutely hilarious, everyone who goes to him laughs until they cry and they always feel better." the man replied," thing is, doctor. i am that clown."

i would put the sad clown picture she sent me in a message that nearly broke my heart but i can't open it in fear of letting my craziness wash over me.

i.
am.
strange.

facebook chat is annoying.

Sun, 16 Aug 2009 23:06:26 GMT

This is my first post in absolutely ages.

I went through my old diary the other day, the amazing, leaf one Aine got me. Well, it wasn't so much as a diary as a book I wrote depressing things in. It was weirddd as hell. Reading some of the stuff in it. From a year ago. If even that. I just constantly wrote about being suicidal, and how trains and ropes and razors occupied my head every single minute of every single day. I can't believe they let me go so far without medication, they're fucking idiots, to tell you the truth. If a 15 year old girl is telling you that sort of stuff.. you can't just leave it. Unless they know what it's like, they have NO fucking clue how difficult it is, never mind the fact that the illness I'd been hiding for 5 years only came out 11 months ago.

WOAH.

Depressing, Aisling.

I think I'm going to make myself stop before I say something I will regret.

Stolen from Shauneeen.

Wed, 21 Jan 2009 22:31:40 GMT

The first five people to respond to this post will get something made by me! My choice. For you.

This offer does have some restrictions and limitations:
- I make no guarantees that you will like what I make!
- What I create will be just for you.
- It'll be done this year. (might be a little while)
- You have no clue what it's going to be. It may be a story. It may be poetry. I may draw or paint something. I may bake you something and mail it to you. Who knows? Not you, that's for sure!
- I reserve the right to do something extremely strange.

The catch? Oh, the catch is that you have to re-post. We can all make stuff!!

Fri, 14 Nov 2008 19:26:24 GMT

“Long Distance II”
Tony Harrison

Though my mother was already two years dead
Dad kept her slippers warming by the gas,
put hot water bottles her side of the bed
and still went to renew her transport pass.

You couldn't just drop in. You had to phone.
He'd put you off an hour to give him time
to clear away her things and look alone
as though his still raw love were such a crime.

He couldn't risk my blight of disbelief
though sure that very soon he'd hear her key
scrape in the rusted lock and end his grief.
He knew she'd just popped out to get the tea.

I believe life ends with death, and that is all.
You haven't both gone shopping; just the same,
in my new black leather phone book there's your name
and the disconnected number I still call.

Fri, 14 Nov 2008 19:22:11 GMT

"Resignation"
Nikki Giovanni

I love you
because the earth turns round the sun
because the North wind blows north
sometimes
because the Pope is Catholic
and most Rabbis Jewish
because winters flow into springs
and the air clears after a storm
because only my love for you
despite the charms of gravity
keeps me from falling off this Earth
into another dimension
I love you
because it is the natural order of things

I love you
like the habit I picked up in college
of sleeping through lectures
or saying I'm sorry
when I get stopped for speeding
because I drink a glass of water
in the morning
and chain-smoke cigarettes
all through the day
because I take my coffee Black
and my milk with chocolate
because you keep my feet warm
though my life a mess
I love you
because I don't want it
any other way.

I am helpless
in my love for you
It makes me so happy
to hear you call my name
I am amazed you can resist
locking me in an echo chamber
where your voice reverberates
through the four walls
sending me into spasmatic ecstasy
I love you
because it's been so good
for so long
that if I didn't love you
I'd have to be born again
and that is not a theological statement
I am pitiful in my love for you

The Dells tell me Love
is so simple
the thought though of you
sends indescribably delicious multitudinous
thrills throughout and through-in my body
I love you
because no two snowflakes are alike
and it is possible
if you stand tippy-toe
to walk between the raindrops
I love you
because I am afraid of the dark
and can't sleep in the light
because I rub my eyes
when I wake up in the morning
and find you there
because you with all your magic powers were
determined that
I should love you
because there was nothing for you but that
I would love you

I love you
because you made me
want to love you
more than I love my privacy
my freedom my commitments
and responsibilities
I love you 'cause I changed my life
to love you
because you saw me one friday
afternoon and decided that I would
love you
I love you I love you I love you

Fri, 24 Oct 2008 16:21:08 GMT

“Belfast Tune”
Joseph Brodsky

Here’s a girl from a dangerous town.
    She crops her dark hair short
so that less of her has to frown
    when someone gets hurt.

She folds her memories like a parachute.
    Dropped, she collects the peat
and cooks her veggies at home: they shoot
    here where they eat.

Ah, there’s more sky in these parts than, say,
    ground. Hence her voice’s pitch,
and her stare stains your retina like a gray
    bulb when you switch

hemispheres, and her knee-length quilt
    skirt’s cut to catch the squall.
I dream of her either loved or killed
    because the town’s too small.

as you can see, i clearly haven't been on exceptindreams for a while, hence all the poems being posted so soon after each other :)

Fri, 24 Oct 2008 16:16:03 GMT

"Eating Together"
Kim Addonizio

I know my friend is going,
though she still sits there
across from me in the restaurant,
and leans over the table to dip
her bread in the oil on my plate; I know
how thick her hair used to be,
and what it takes for her to discard
her man's cap partway through our meal,
to look straight at the young waiter
and smile when he asks
how we are liking it. She eats
as though starving—chicken, dolmata,
the buttery flakes of filo—
and what's killing her
eats, too. I watch her lift
a glistening black olive and peel
the meat from the pit, watch
her fine long fingers, and her face,
puffy from medication. She lowers
her eyes to the food, pretending
not to know what I know. She's going.
And we go on eating.

exceptindreams is an amazing poetry journal (it's where i found every poem i've posted here). so yeah. go see it :D

Fri, 24 Oct 2008 16:13:54 GMT

"The Snowy Day"
Elizabeth Spires

The last time I saw you, we met for coffee on a snowy day.
Outside the window of the coffee shop, the snow fell silently

& heavily, the traffic on Coldspring Lane blurred & vague,
each car a cumbersome dream vehicle plowing comically into eternity.

But there you were, real as day, drinking a real cup of coffee.
You were back from India, you had slept for two days, the coffee

tasted wonderful, you said. You had flown to a mountain monastery
to find in prayer & silence what you could not find in the everyday,

taking only a few books, a change of clothes, because for too long you
had carried your life like two suitcases heavy enough to kill you.

When it snows, everything is light & dark at the same time. Black coffee
in a white cup, the hours leaked away, until our cups were empty,

the afternoon gone. Then a kiss on the cheek, a door opening out
into the cold, & I was walking away, up a slippery snowy hill
nothing at all

like your mountain & so little to hold onto. That night the snow fell
& fell & fell, erasing every landmark, quieting the world for a while.

Later, after you died, I had a dream. The phone was ringing.
It was you, your voice, on the other end of the line, laughing

as you said, "Beth, it's Greg. I'm in the hospital. I'm not dead."

Tue, 14 Oct 2008 21:15:05 GMT

i am scared. i want to go to sleep and never wake up.

Mon, 13 Oct 2008 19:18:48 GMT

i miss walking round the antrim road in the rain for hours. i miss endless trips up cavehill. i miss getting letters everyday. i miss going to botanic and getting drunk and flirting and thinking everything was gonna be sweet cos the vodka went to your head and you couldn't think straight. i miss kissing people on the cheek and asking michael if he liked me. i miss the new kind of excitement you get when you tell someone a secret. i miss becoming great friends. i miss patsy. i miss our conversation we had at city hall that day, i wish it had never ended. i miss getting up everyday and going to rehersals. i miss the summer. i miss not worrying about school. i miss the days when i didn't need medication to make me feel alright. i miss monica and that night we had where we just talked for hours. i miss lizzy and cigarette breaks. i miss laura during the week. i miss switching off. i miss being able to write something worth reading. i miss loving piano. i miss actually caring about stuff for once. i miss me.

Sun, 12 Oct 2008 10:47:50 GMT

Sertraline hydrochloride (trade names Zoloft, Lustral) is an antidepressant of the selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor (SSRI) class. It was introduced to the market by Pfizer in 1991. Sertraline is primarily used to treat major depression in adult outpatients as well as obsessive-compulsive, panic and social anxiety disorders in both adults and children. In 2007 it was the most prescribed antidepressant on the US retail market, with 29,652,000 prescriptions.
The efficacy of sertraline for depression is similar to that of older tricyclic antidepressants, but its side effects are much less pronounced. Differences with newer antidepressants are subtler and also mostly confined to side effects. Evidence suggests that sertraline may work better than fluoxetine (Prozac) for some subtypes of depression. Sertraline is highly effective for the treatment of panic disorder, but cognitive behavioral therapy is a better treatment for obsessive-compulsive disorder, whether by itself or in combination with sertraline. Although approved for social phobia and posttraumatic stress disorder, sertraline leads to only modest improvement in these conditions. Sertraline also alleviates the symptoms of premenstrual dysphoric disorder and can be used in sub-therapeutic doses or intermittently for its treatment.
Sertraline shares the common side effects and contraindications of other SSRIs, with high rates of nausea, diarrhea, insomnia, and sexual side effects; however, it does not cause weight gain, and its effects on cognition are mild. In pregnant women taking sertraline, the drug was present in significant concentrations in fetal blood, and was also associated with a higher rate of various birth defects. Similarly to other antidepressants, the use of sertraline for depression may be associated with a higher rate of suicidality. Due to the rarity of this side effect, statistically significant data is difficult to obtain, and suicidality continues to be a subject of controversy.

Fluoxetine hydrochloride (Prozac, Fontex, Ladose, Sarafem) is an antidepressant of the selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor (SSRI) class. Fluoxetine is approved for the treatment of major depression (including pediatric depression), obsessive-compulsive disorder (in both adult and pediatric populations), bulimia nervosa, anorexia nervosa, panic disorder and premenstrual dysphoric disorder. Despite the availability of newer agents, it remains extremely popular. Over 22.2 million prescriptions for generic formulations of fluoxetine were filled in the United States in 2007, making it the third most prescribed antidepressant. Fluoxetine was developed by Eli Lilly and Company.

Risperidone (pronounced Ris-PER-ǐ-dōn) and sold under the trade name Risperdal in the Netherlands, United States, Canada, the United Kingdom, Portugal and several other countries, Risperdal or Ridal in New Zealand, Rispolept in Eastern Europe, and Belivon, or Rispen elsewhere) is an atypical antipsychotic developed by Janssen-Cilag.

lalalaaaaa.

Thu, 09 Oct 2008 20:17:59 GMT

Obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) is a chronic anxiety disorder most commonly characterized by obsessive, distressing, intrusive thoughts and related compulsions. Compulsions are tasks or "rituals" which attempt to neutralize the obsessions. OCD is distinguished from other types of anxiety, including the routine tension and stress that appear throughout life. The phrase "obsessive-compulsive" has become part of the English lexicon, and is often used in an informal or caricatured manner to describe someone who is meticulous, perfectionistic, absorbed in a cause, or otherwise fixated on something or someone. Although these signs are often present in OCD, a person who exhibits them does not necessarily have OCD, and may instead have obsessive-compulsive personality disorder (OCPD) or some other condition.

Wed, 08 Oct 2008 16:41:15 GMT

"The Unfinished Suicides of My High School Sweetheart"
Shira Erlichman

For Jake

We were platonic high school sweethearts that fucked in the front seat
without touching and with our eyes open the whole time.
Our questions locked at the genitals like children to bicycles.
Our distant tongues sparked like forks dreaming of sockets.
We were virgin high school sweethearts that fucked with the seatbelts on
and the headlights blazing, daring passing drivers to stop and peek,
challenging cops to pull over beside us and question how safe our conversation was.

We theorized about masturbation, weed, (and the combination), football players,
our parents, Bone Thugs’ rapping techniques,
and what percentage of wrong was it to think of someone else while getting head.

We could achieve orgiastic ecstasy on a pile of purple sweatpants.
Our bodies fit together without being in one another.
We were music.
We were honest.
And that is something World Leaders are too scared to touch.
And we got angry. We got scared.
And we weren’t enough for each other.
And we were lovers.

It’s true: you were a man and I was a woman and the birds didn’t care,
and the bees stung the both of us,
but the level of intimacy made slobbering couples at school seem like
they had the attention spans of goldfish.
We were Red Rock meets blue sky of Arizona boldness,
depth of mountains the color of dried blood.

You told me you wanted to die.
Parked outside my parents’ house, asked what kept me living.
I told you my brother’s name but you only had sisters.

You said it would be easy.
One acquaintance away from getting a gun.
Knew someone who knew someone.
You were inches from releasing your feet from under the rope around your neck
and I was there, and I wasn’t.
You were scattered to red needles across the sheet of your chest
and you were only a decision away from a vertical slice
that opened the drawers of blood inside you until you were empty.

How could I tell you: you never wear sunglasses and I like that about you.
You look like a muppet and that alone still makes me smile.
You are curious yet patient.
You never make me feel ugly, gendered or crazy and that is huge.
This is friendship I keep in a drawer I will never unhinge
and spill out.

I felt you tremor from across the cup-holder
as a closed door on the left side of your chest rattled,
which must have been frightening
because the days were all empty rooms you waited in,
and the women were laughter that lived outside your walls,
and the men were impossible to be.

Jake, you look at me like I belong only in my skin,
and you ask questions, which is the biggest compliment anyone can receive.

So in the car we’re constantly in, outside our parents’ houses,
I swallow your keys to prove my commitment to finding a new way,
another road, a life you can live with.

SHE
IS
AMAZING.

I really want to get a book of her poetry for Christmas, that is, if there IS one.

Tue, 30 Sep 2008 21:20:32 GMT

Journal, I seem to have neglected you over the last couple of months. I haven't written anything worth reading in ages to be honest. I used to write all the time, but now I seem to spend endless time making collages. I don't know why. They're weirdly therepeutic. And I need one for SRT. Although I didn't fill it with lovely, happy things like he thought I would. I'm seeing him tomorrow, anyway, so I'll just have to see what he thinks about it. I can't explain SRT. And it's really annoying. I can't explain what it is or what it does or how it helps or how it works or anything and it pisses me off so much it's ridiculous. Not being able to explain it, I mean.
We were talking about nerves today in biology. And sensory organs and all that shit. It's slightly comforting to know a bit about it now. Although I've contemplated asking Mr Gallagher more about it, I sense that he'd be able to explain the science behind it better than Peter would, no offence to him.

I can't even think of much to write here, which is slightly depressing.

Fri, 19 Sep 2008 22:10:11 GMT

"How Could You Ever Be Fine"
Stephen Dobyns

I dreamt last night I heard someone speak your name,
two women talking about you and I went to them
and asked about you and they gave me your number.
So I called you and we talked and you said
you were fine, and I doubted it was really you,
because how could you ever be fine? What have
twenty years done to you? Where are you now?
You had the smoothest skin, a face like a beautiful
wax figure as you moved from one messed-up man
to another. There was one who used to shoot up
Jack Daniel's, and when I told him that was stupid,
he said, That's right, I'm stupid, I'm really stupid,
somebody should kill me! Until I said it actually
wasn't so stupid just to calm him. But all those men
who hit you and abused you and how you explained
they must have been right or else they wouldn't
have done it. I was too tame, didn't stick myself
with pins or know the names for all the drugs,
and had a vague idea of what I wanted to do
next week, next year. You would listen with one
black eye swollen half shut, then go back to the guy
who had done it so he could blacken the other.
I remember you told me how your mother had said
it was your duty to love her, and you shouted, No,
and kept shouting no. And when she died you felt glad,
but years later I took you to one funeral director
after another so you could find her ashes.
You said you wanted to talk to her, a beautiful
woman telling her troubles to a cardboard box.
Then you would sprinkle her ashes into the canal
and feel something, you weren't sure what, maybe
just done with something, the sense that something
was over. But either we couldn't find the right
funeral director or the ashes were already gone,
and that night you went back to the man who beat you,
and shortly after that you slipped out of my life--
a few cards, a few phone calls, then nothing.
Right now you are either out there or you're not--
smoking a cigarette, touching a sore place, looking
from the window and letting all the old faces
drift across your mind. It is hard to think of you
dowdy and forty, the problems you dealt with, a life
of some sort on track, hard to think of you making it
past twenty-five. At least in books we know the end,
know the characters died or got married, had great
success or failure. But you are out there someplace,
and your friend who shot up the Jack Daniel's,
and the guy I took the knife away from,
and the other who wanted to be a writer,
and the girl who quit school to have a baby,
and another girl who smashed the doors of my truck
on an acid trip. They are all out there, just
putting one foot in front of another, just like
the torturers are out there, and the men who worked
on firing squads, and the men who like to hit things
just to hurt them. And you are out there too,
picking your way between the paper, the tin cans,
the broken glass. You had the most wonderful smile.
On whom does it shine now, who does it welcome?
People on hard streets dragged to inevitable ends.

Thu, 11 Sep 2008 19:39:25 GMT

“Someone Who Used To Have Someone”
Miriam Waddington

There used to be someone
to whom I could say do you
love me and be sure that the
answer would always be yes;
there used to be someone to
whom I could telephone and
be sure when the operator
said do you accept the charges
the answer would always be yes;
but now there is no one to ask
no one to telephone from the
strangeness of cities in the
lateness of nightness now there
is no-one always now no-one
no someone no never at all.

Can you imagine what it is
like to live in a world where
there is no-one now always no
no-one and never some some-
one to ask do you love me and
be sure that the answer would
always be yes? I live in a world
where only the billboards are
always they’re twenty feet tall
and the circle the city they
coax and caress me they heat
me and cool me they promise and
plead me with colour and comfort
you get to sleep with me
tonight (the me being ovaltine)
but who wants to get to sleep
with a cup of ovaltine what
kind of sleep is that for some-
one who used to have someone
to ask do you love me and
be sure that the answer
would always be yes?

Sun, 07 Sep 2008 19:47:47 GMT

Letter assignment thingy I got from findingsane. Supposed to list ten things you LOVE beginning with the same letter. My letter was "L".

1. LAURA GRAHAM :) <3
2. lovely people.
I'm actually terrible, I can't even think of a third thing beginning with l that I love. So I think I'll just write things I love, therefore defeating the purpose entirely.

I love:

good moods, nice myspace messages from sarah and laura, texts from laura graham :), msn conversations with tiarnan, being great friends with someone, everyone in OMAC, acting, organising things, aine's jeans, converses, chocolate, chris and how we always win knights horsemen and cavilliers, poison peasoup, debates, clements coffee, when i'm at the computer and it makes that weird noise that means you usually have a text coming through, the prospect of leaving school after GCSEs, a softer world tshirts, acoustic music, singing, jose vanders, radiators when you're cold, watching dvds in my room on naomh's laptop, the fact that naomh's coming home on thursday, my gig tickets being up on my wall opposite my bed, getting 8hrs sleep at night.

I think I'm going to go and watch Girl, Interrupted again and do spanish oral questions, adios.

Wed, 03 Sep 2008 20:13:04 GMT

school isn't as bad as i thought it was going to be. i like routine. i like having the same thing to do everyday. i don't like change. i like everything to be perfect. and i had the first of a load of SRT sessions today. and it helped. a lot. it's nice. being relaxed, for once, though it's hard to explain how he does it. so i'm not going to :) yes, i'm that lazy. but yeah. so i'm feeling a bit better. it's weird.

Writer's Block: Sarah Palin?

Tue, 02 Sep 2008 19:09:15 GMT

Is Sarah Palin a shrewd choice for the Republican Party, or is she a liability?

View 500 Answers

exploding stills war photography - hilarious sarah palin pisstake..

Writer's Block: Sarah Palin?

Tue, 02 Sep 2008 17:13:44 GMT

Is Sarah Palin a shrewd choice for the Republican Party, or is she a liability?

View 500 Answers

I've been looking at some of the other answers on here for the last hour or so and actually am pissing myself laughing at how ridiculous some of them are.. she was a ridiculous choice, but hell, I want Obama to be in office so I'm all up for the republicans making stupid mistakes.

another blog rant about palin.

Sun, 31 Aug 2008 15:37:57 GMT

school starts properly tomorrow.
8.55 till 3.30.
good
lord
someone
shoot
me.

caoimhe's 16th last night and emma's last amnesty meeting for a year..

Tue, 26 Aug 2008 22:39:51 GMT

today i went into town with lucy for the first time in ages, awk it was so nice, i adore that wee girl :) and we had lots of nice chats and bizz talks and such, it was great. i've also eaten a ridiculous amount of food in the past two days, probably from boredom. and i found blue tights today, too. and bought wombats tickets for me and caoimhe. so woo :D november'll be a good month for concerts :) i'm in an alrightish mood today. i think, anyway. i love harry potter atm. it's caoimhe's sixteenth tomorrow. it seems so weird that in ten years we'll be twenty six. creepy stuff. unfortunately, i'm not in a writing mood and i have an email to send, so i think i'll leave it here. tomorrow should be nice :)

Mon, 25 Aug 2008 21:45:38 GMT

i've been talking a lot to marly recently. i actually adore her :D my head is so melted it's unreal. i'm actually so so glad i did this musical and all this drama stuff over summer, cos otherwise, it would've been melty and boring and absolutely shite, but instead it was class and amazing and memorable :D and i applied for that cinemagic stars thing for november. you pretty much put on a musical in like 3 days. last year they did wicked, i really really should've gone then :( last night i talked to stevesy on the phone for like an hour. it was really random. and we talked about the biggest load of shit. but it was class. awk, i love stevesy :D and then i went to bed and read harry potter for absolutely hours and texted laura cos we both couldn't sleep. i don't know what i would do without laura, especially recently. and i'm terrified of going back to school, i don't know how i'm going to cope. truth be told, i'd rather leave right now and go to tech. i think that's what i'm probably going to want to do, it'll take some convincing to make my dad see it though. although they'll probably argue that i'm capable of doing a levels. which right now, i really don't think i am, but still. but yeah. i am not looking forward to school at all. yknow who's also lovely? laura chambers. other laura. she left me a really nice wee comment<3 i hardly even know her and she's still looking out for me, not many people would do that for someone they don't know very well tbh. i walked to the shop with aine today, and we bought a load of shit. we ended up talking about alcohol on the way home. she thinks i should do some research to find out whether drinking while on anti-depressants is a good idea. although i looked over the leaflet like three times when i got home and it didn't say anything about it, but she said that doing something that makes you even more out of control and stuff like that isn't a good idea, especially if youre depressed. i guess she has a point. but i'm not going to keep doing this once school starts, i just went a bit crazy with everything over summer, because it's the summer and it's fun and it's nice to not worry about things and stuff like that. everyone in omac's going out on wednesday, and that'll be the last time i'll do any of that stuff for a while, anyway. just one more time before school starts. this blog is actually just a pile of rambling shit, but i thought i may as well start writing in it again, cos i haven't written much recently, writing doesn't really help anymore, shame really. i can't ever seem to write anything either. i don't play piano much. which is kind of sad. i don't know if i'll be ready to do grade 7 in november, although i really want to. i would read over this all but i'm just too lazy. x

Sun, 24 Aug 2008 19:25:50 GMT

the musical's over, i had what seems to be a really weird panic attack yesterday that made me take a psych, i go back to school on friday, i didn't fail my maths GCSE and i'm lonely.

Wed, 20 Aug 2008 22:05:17 GMT

right now i feel like this a softer world. i don't know why.

the musical is tomorrow night! we've been working at it for pretty much three weeks of the summer, i can't wait, it's actually going to be class. i went to see MUSE last week too, best fucking concert of my entire fucking life :) they put on such an amaaazing show, go see them live if you ever get the chance to, trust me. i'm trying to think of what else i should say.
i love laura. i don't think she realises how glad i am that we're getting closer again. she is amazing and beautiful and class and wonderful and hilarious and caring and ridiculous and magnificant all at the same time :)
i seem to becoming good friends with a few people on the internet, namely through myspace. it's a bit strange, but they're genuinely nice people so i don't see anything wrong with it. just a bit random, that's all.
i'm tired, and cant think of anything else to say, so i think i'll leave it here.