The frustration of an apparent cocktail.

I'm sitting here, writing this, contemplating whether I should go fix myself something to eat, having had nothing all day. Or whether a grumbling stomach is better than one in pain.To eat or not to eat? The anxiety I've suffered all my life is at its full force now. And I feel desperate.
What I could do with is meeting people similar to me, but I have absolutely no idea how. I want to meet friends with my same interests. That doesn't mean I don't love the ones I have now because God knows I do, and so do they, themselves. But I'm so tired of feeling so different. And I'm perpetually frustrated.
I want people who're adventurous. Who'd purchase a plane ticket on some last minute inspiration and go somewhere. Who sleep on beaches just to look at the stars. Who dream big. Who want to see the world. Who live outside the lines. Who would enjoy abseiling just as much as they would enjoy walking around the Louvre or listening to chamber music. Trekking and reading a good book.
I'm so entirely fed up of everybody being so conventional. Most people have every little step of the way planned out and it's so fucking boring. I can't even stand the thought of it. More and more, spontaneity is becoming just a word in a dictionary.
And words can't really express the frustration I feel right now, but I'd still like to give it a try. How this feels like is having somebody repulsive, somebody you absolutely hate touching your body in some way. Your face, your arms, whatever. And you keep saying ' stop touching me, stop it! stop it! STOP IT!!!' but your voice isn't loud enough and your arms can't move and you're so fucking stuck.
I'm so sick of everybody being a carbon copy of each other.
I'm so angry at everyone. And disappointed. Which is stupid because they are who they are and that's that, you love them.
I just wish really hard to meet someone different.

Where I'm supposed to be studying.

All day and I have no idea what I've done. It's five in the evening here, the sky is a violently happy blue and the sun is making my skin blush. Theoretically. And I was supposed to be studying. Instead I wasted a day literally not doing anything, avoiding it. Might as well have done something I like. My exams are in less than a month and I've never felt so bad about this as I do now. I hate how the last bit is always the hardest. I'm absolutely fed up. I feel like horse riding and swimming and sleeping on the beach with sand down my pants and I feel like not giving a fuck. These past months have been unnecessarily stressful, and having spent the past three years not giving a shit about anything, re-starting to care is... tiring? It takes adjusting to. It feels frustrating. This is what I'm missing;

and this;

and this;
It feels good to be home, right now, and I'm looking forward to spending the summer here. I was supposed to go back to London in June to a NYFA film acting course, but the plan kind of fell out. Got postponed. I don't know. Every time my life seems to get some sort of direction, everything radically changes. So I decided to go half-way back to how I used to be. Make a general plan, and follow it through. Don't take it entirely too serious. Don't plan too many details.
And so that's it. Spend the summer here and then off to Florence in September for an insane mask-making course. Then London. Then... I don't know.

The point in this is... I think some people are meant to have everything mapped out. Of sorts. And some people aren't. I think it's easy for some people to know what they want, when what they want is something 'normal'. But I don't think I was ever cut out for normal. Sometimes I wish I were. Mostly, I'm very happy.

The point is, I'm supposed to be studying. But it doesn't look like it's going to happen. So I'm off enjoying the rays before they go to bed.