Who is she?
Sitting so elegantly,
Resting her feet.
Upon the park seat
Who is she?
With her hair tied neat
with only a scarf for heat
sitting so elegantly.
Who is she?
With her headphones in
shutting out the world
as the cold settles in.
Who is she?
She is disappearing
In the crowd in front of me
she is the person within.
Wednesday, 2 December 2009
Saturday, 14 November 2009
The Last breath
The last breath
has gone.
The last sleep
has begun.
This weight I own,
upon my shoes.
Lifting them up, you know
life hasn’t begun.
Old letters I read.
Your voice I hear.
But without a sound
I know you are near.
Where our love remains
with you today.
Our memories forever
are contained.
I open my eyes to see
all you did for me.
Here I find beauty
in amongst our sorrow.
This chapter maybe closed,
but in our hearts and minds,
a new one has begun.
Always to remind-
us to tell a simple truth:
how he loved us all
and the time was right,
for him to give up,
his final fight.
Wednesday, 11 November 2009
Just Magic
There's nothing like the smell of burnt wood in my hair! When you've camped out over night with a bonfire. The general atmosphere of camping where your cold and all your clothes damp, the warmth of that camp fire blazing on your face i adore. The crisp smell of a forest at night time, where you can smell the cold breathing against your ears. Wrapped up warm, with a marshmallow on the end of a stick and baked potatoes hidden by foil thrown into the depth of the fire. Where, through the gap in the trees above you, you see stars shining bright a million light years away. Whispers of "Ce soir on va voir les etoiles" and the tip of your nose is pink with excitment. The temperature rapidly drops, so you edge closer to your friends. A burning, magical glow engulfs you and you can't help but smile through the bitter cold.
Friday, 30 October 2009
Losing you
Why does it feel like no-one understands. Here I am alone with only cold air for comfort. My nose touched by the frosty autumn weather. What should I say, how should I act? I’m good I say, I’m fine I fib. Is it better to hide away from my emotions, hide away from what I want to do, what I feel?
I’m losing control, it’s out of my control! I can’t do anything but let go, yet I’m holding on. Being pulled through this field of grass, wet up to my knees from the damp morning dew. I’m stuck where I don’t want to be right now, but theres nothing I can do.
Are you ok? Questions with a thousand answers. Yet they tell no truth. I need a friend like I’ve never needed one before, but can you see? Do you know it’s you I need, to hold me. To kiss me goodnight and let me know it’s going to be ok. Even if we both know it’s not, it’s not going to be ok, it never can be. Not right now atleast. But one day it will get better.
One day soon I might wake up and feel I have the strength to face the world of strangers, the life of ‘normality’ I am supposed to lead. I hope that day comes sooner. Waking at the moment has become a tiresome event never knowing how the day will lead. Will I make it through with a smile? Will I put on a brave face for everyone, because thats what they need? I will walk on. Walk on through this cloud. I can’t see through this cloud, its too steamed up with sadness. But when the fog is lifted, then I will smile again, then I wll say hey I’m okay, I’m fine and it not be a lie.
Yes, my friend, life is difficult when all you want is for that person you love so dearly, is for their wish to be granted. For them to go home, back to their father. No longer suffering, no longer in pain. No longer broken hearts surrounding them. Peace, this is what we need, she has it. This is what those left behind need to carry on their sleeves.
It’s talk of ’you have this’ and ‘I’ll get that’. Talk of a presence gone forever when still they remain. How can this be? One person already lost, another no, it can’t be, but it has, it’s already began.
Monday, 5 October 2009
I am a flower quickly fading..
"Here today and gone tomorrow, a wave tossed in the ocean, a vapour in the wind, still u hear me when I'm calling, won't u catch me when I'm falling and you told me who I am, I am yours"
This pretty much sums up how I have been feeling over the summer. I felt as if I was fading away from everything that I have ever believed in, from all the things that make my life what it is. I am defined by the things I have experienced in my 20 years of being alive, which is not a long time at all. As if the one thing in my life that I fully and truly believe and trust in could be here one day and gone the next day. The belief that millions of people share, yet was it ever really gone? Or was I so blinded by my own selfish ambition as to fully comprehend its existence.
Today is the start of my second year at uni, and ironically I don't actually have uni today, but I thought I'd start as I mean to go on... by writing my first blog entry in quite a few months.
When you grow up you go through a lot of changes and I know that over the long 5months break I have experienced a lot of change in my head, my heart. New people coming into my life, new friends, some I know will not fade. Yet even amongst my busy time going from one country to the next, from one event to another, I still carried you with me. Then when it came to a stop, a halt, a massive slow motion picture, you were there to catch me as I fell. Fell into the doubts and confusion of this world, fell into an uncertainty and an eagerness to understand what it was, what it is that I believe in.
Some one once said to me "that it is not the size of your faith that matters but the size of the one in whom you believe that makes the difference". It certainly does. I may have found myself fading away from the one thing my life revolves around, but I sure know it hasn't gone. I am nothing but a wave tossed in the ocean, I am nothing but I am something, I am someone. But like all things in creation, they grow again, flowers are reborn and life is made everyday. My life is never as dramatic as I make it out to be, but it is sure comforting knowing it is significant, even in those days of 'nothing much going on'!
I think all of this is entwined into feeling uninspired this summer, so being able to write something again is a real comfort..
This pretty much sums up how I have been feeling over the summer. I felt as if I was fading away from everything that I have ever believed in, from all the things that make my life what it is. I am defined by the things I have experienced in my 20 years of being alive, which is not a long time at all. As if the one thing in my life that I fully and truly believe and trust in could be here one day and gone the next day. The belief that millions of people share, yet was it ever really gone? Or was I so blinded by my own selfish ambition as to fully comprehend its existence.
Today is the start of my second year at uni, and ironically I don't actually have uni today, but I thought I'd start as I mean to go on... by writing my first blog entry in quite a few months.
When you grow up you go through a lot of changes and I know that over the long 5months break I have experienced a lot of change in my head, my heart. New people coming into my life, new friends, some I know will not fade. Yet even amongst my busy time going from one country to the next, from one event to another, I still carried you with me. Then when it came to a stop, a halt, a massive slow motion picture, you were there to catch me as I fell. Fell into the doubts and confusion of this world, fell into an uncertainty and an eagerness to understand what it was, what it is that I believe in.
Some one once said to me "that it is not the size of your faith that matters but the size of the one in whom you believe that makes the difference". It certainly does. I may have found myself fading away from the one thing my life revolves around, but I sure know it hasn't gone. I am nothing but a wave tossed in the ocean, I am nothing but I am something, I am someone. But like all things in creation, they grow again, flowers are reborn and life is made everyday. My life is never as dramatic as I make it out to be, but it is sure comforting knowing it is significant, even in those days of 'nothing much going on'!
I think all of this is entwined into feeling uninspired this summer, so being able to write something again is a real comfort..
Tuesday, 16 June 2009
What a Hiccup
Hiccup is one word to describe my life at the moment. A little bit of a dry patch. I am the sort of person who loves adventure, loves to get excited about life and all the possibilities of it. But right now, in this particular period of my life I am not excited. I am not motivated. I am indifferent and unconcerned, I am not satisfied, mundane is how I feel with a touch of subdued.
I think today is the first time in a few weeks that I have sat down and found some really exciting things for a job that people are doing. All the things I looked at have one thing in common, they are all abroad. Out of this dreary country. OK. So I exaggerate, England is not that bad. However there is something about being in another country which makes it all that more exciting. My point is, I can't do them, these jobs. They have a Lil snag, which is that they cost money to actually to get to these places. If I am broke and trying to make money, this idea will never happen.
For those few seconds when I drifted off into wonderland world, I was in bliss, thinking about how amazing it would be to watch the sun go down over the Himalayas, to scuba dive on the great barrier reef etc etc.. but here I am back in reality, realising that I have the fantastic smell of Barking on my doorstep with a window of opportunity...
....opportunity to waste my days watching mindless TV. Or sitting on the Internet, that's right. Literally sitting on it because it stopped working half way through an episode of Loose Women!
Hopefully it will rain soon and this dry desert will be flourishing, bright and energized again! And just maybe.. this new forest might know what day of the week it is again.
I think today is the first time in a few weeks that I have sat down and found some really exciting things for a job that people are doing. All the things I looked at have one thing in common, they are all abroad. Out of this dreary country. OK. So I exaggerate, England is not that bad. However there is something about being in another country which makes it all that more exciting. My point is, I can't do them, these jobs. They have a Lil snag, which is that they cost money to actually to get to these places. If I am broke and trying to make money, this idea will never happen.
For those few seconds when I drifted off into wonderland world, I was in bliss, thinking about how amazing it would be to watch the sun go down over the Himalayas, to scuba dive on the great barrier reef etc etc.. but here I am back in reality, realising that I have the fantastic smell of Barking on my doorstep with a window of opportunity...
....opportunity to waste my days watching mindless TV. Or sitting on the Internet, that's right. Literally sitting on it because it stopped working half way through an episode of Loose Women!
Hopefully it will rain soon and this dry desert will be flourishing, bright and energized again! And just maybe.. this new forest might know what day of the week it is again.
Monday, 15 June 2009
Memories That Remain
Trudging through the crisp untouched snow, a single breath of cold air feels like daggers on your insides, its sharp pangs blowing down my throat making it dry, as if it would close up with one more gulp of air. One slow step at a time, making my way from darkness and sorrow at one end of the landing platform towards freedom, liberation at the other end which overwhelms my mind. Questions flying around my head about suffering. About God. Human nature. How could this have happened? How could anybody have let this happen?
Faces unfamiliar, strangers in another lifetime. This place, these people, this room, their pain. Where bodies perished and burned alive. Torture and pain combined with small acts of hope, the disgust of human kind, decay and sorrow as strangers lives are torn apart. My mind wonders as I am half way towards the entrance which is so much more than an iron gate patrolled by guards, but it now lays, empty, unoccupied. Darkness starts to fall, the gloves on my hands can’t keep out the freezing temperatures, I am wrapped up so well, I am clothed but they were naked. My hands are painful, my nose feels like it could drop off but they endured so much more. I can only imagine. It is so empty; nothing remains but the memory.
Shivers run down my neck through to my spine making my whole body shake, is it the sorrow I feel or just the cold? How will I ever express how I feel to anybody? All I can hear is the sound of crunching on snow so distinct, so rhythmic, like nothing else matters but to keep moving because if you stop. Silence would immerse the darkness, then and only then you may feel the faint whisper of death whip across your face leaving you feeling helpless. Time has passed by and there is nothing you can do to help these people, they have left, this world, this place. So it’s keep moving, don’t look back, you’re walking their freedom because their legs couldn’t make it.
Leaving, passing through the gateway, it’s only now I know I won’t have to face that in my life, that kind of suffering, never that extreme. A glimpse of life taken, how will I express how I feel to anybody? I know now, sitting at my desk this is the way. So much emotion whirling up inside ready to be let out, this is how I will express it. As I sit pen to paper still struggling with words, just simple words explaining all that aching inside yet when one word is written the rest will follow in full chorus. Through the depth of experience, this is how I write.
Faces unfamiliar, strangers in another lifetime. This place, these people, this room, their pain. Where bodies perished and burned alive. Torture and pain combined with small acts of hope, the disgust of human kind, decay and sorrow as strangers lives are torn apart. My mind wonders as I am half way towards the entrance which is so much more than an iron gate patrolled by guards, but it now lays, empty, unoccupied. Darkness starts to fall, the gloves on my hands can’t keep out the freezing temperatures, I am wrapped up so well, I am clothed but they were naked. My hands are painful, my nose feels like it could drop off but they endured so much more. I can only imagine. It is so empty; nothing remains but the memory.
Shivers run down my neck through to my spine making my whole body shake, is it the sorrow I feel or just the cold? How will I ever express how I feel to anybody? All I can hear is the sound of crunching on snow so distinct, so rhythmic, like nothing else matters but to keep moving because if you stop. Silence would immerse the darkness, then and only then you may feel the faint whisper of death whip across your face leaving you feeling helpless. Time has passed by and there is nothing you can do to help these people, they have left, this world, this place. So it’s keep moving, don’t look back, you’re walking their freedom because their legs couldn’t make it.
Leaving, passing through the gateway, it’s only now I know I won’t have to face that in my life, that kind of suffering, never that extreme. A glimpse of life taken, how will I express how I feel to anybody? I know now, sitting at my desk this is the way. So much emotion whirling up inside ready to be let out, this is how I will express it. As I sit pen to paper still struggling with words, just simple words explaining all that aching inside yet when one word is written the rest will follow in full chorus. Through the depth of experience, this is how I write.
Tuesday, 9 June 2009
Forever never comes around
"Forever and ever, life is for now or never.. you'll never see me again and no ones gonna cry for you, you'll never see me again, no matter what you do"
Lyrics by September from the song 'Cry for you' which I first heard around December 2007 and so a story begins..
Talking to myself,
"I love this tuuune. who sings this?"
I started to hum along to the song on the radio, but forgot how much I disliked my out of tune voice so cranked up the volume a few notches more.
"That's better".
I was wishing I could saver these 3minutes of pure heaven with my windows wound up tight, scarf around my neck. It was an icy evening my windows were still not DE-iced yet, the luxuries of having a car the same age as you! I was so glad to have finished work today, and what a perfect song to go home to, at least it was upbeat. I had to refrain from turning over the radio to a more soppy channel. I didn't want to self-indulge any longer with those songs of 'and i keep bleeding' along with any snow patrol song, Westlife or Ronan Keating.
I needed to cut my ties loose and start afresh, throw out the rags and put on a new set of clothes, put on a new pair of socks and step out into the breezy unknown, you get my gist? Well, there I was rolling along through the streets almost home and preparing myself to be brave, put on a smile and remember it has to get worse before it can get better. Next song.
"Are you serious? I thought this was meant to be a really happy station"
as Avril Lavinge 'I'm with you' rings through my ears, frustration begins to boil up,
"You've got to be kidding me? It's only one song" I told my lonesome self, "it's bearable".
The red light stops me, as I wait impatiently, craving to get back to the security of my home. I notice a couple across the road laughing as they walk into a Chinese restaurant.
"So what?"
Amber, and I am off but I glance across the road, a stranger looks suddenly familiar,
"That's not him" I whisper in disbelief.
"No way. Oh, no wait, it's not"
I'm with you' softly surrounds me. My eyes blurred now, from a sickly song and a deceiving radio station! What is wrong with me today? I was seeing people and crying unneccessary tears. My phone buzzes in the door, stuck in traffic again i take a sneaky look '1 new text message. Read now'. "Hey :)".
"Is that it? Is that all he has to say to me? Why the FUCK did he text me?"
I angrily shouted at no one. All alone in my car I throw my phone on the floor.
Getting in the door I breathe in a waft of sweet curry, dinner must be ready but I didn't think Dad was home from work until tomorrow? He's not back, it's Luke who has left the food to heat in the oven. Oh my head is all over the place tonight. Taking my phone I read the text message again, yes, it still hasn't got any longer. Delete. Are you sure?
"Yes, I am sure",
I rifle through my phonebook and delete his number too. 'Forever' that's what he said. Today I achieve the award of first class fool. Tonight it is the bravery award, and tomorrow, maybe tomorrow it will be one step closer to contentment.
Stepping in my room I scent his hoody laying on my bed, I think it's time. I find my mum and dump the betrayal tainted items on her bed.
"Get rid of them, Please Mum" I look at her and stand in helplessness.
She hugs me tight, "No more tears now my dear, no more tears".
I hugged her back even tighter for fear of letting go she might see my red raw eyes. Back to my room, I slowly gather up all the old photos, cards and any other sentimental rubbish I had lying around.
"Here I go" I murmured to myself.
"Let him go".
The noise of the shredder echoed in my mind as I slipped into my PJ's and got into a hoody-less bed. That's better. Time to be upbeat, but not right now. Now is the time to let it out one last time I thought as a tear trickled onto my pillow. This time it felt neccessary. The flood followed and soon I was sub-conscious in a pool of aching tears.
Lyrics by September from the song 'Cry for you' which I first heard around December 2007 and so a story begins..
Talking to myself,
"I love this tuuune. who sings this?"
I started to hum along to the song on the radio, but forgot how much I disliked my out of tune voice so cranked up the volume a few notches more.
"That's better".
I was wishing I could saver these 3minutes of pure heaven with my windows wound up tight, scarf around my neck. It was an icy evening my windows were still not DE-iced yet, the luxuries of having a car the same age as you! I was so glad to have finished work today, and what a perfect song to go home to, at least it was upbeat. I had to refrain from turning over the radio to a more soppy channel. I didn't want to self-indulge any longer with those songs of 'and i keep bleeding' along with any snow patrol song, Westlife or Ronan Keating.
I needed to cut my ties loose and start afresh, throw out the rags and put on a new set of clothes, put on a new pair of socks and step out into the breezy unknown, you get my gist? Well, there I was rolling along through the streets almost home and preparing myself to be brave, put on a smile and remember it has to get worse before it can get better. Next song.
"Are you serious? I thought this was meant to be a really happy station"
as Avril Lavinge 'I'm with you' rings through my ears, frustration begins to boil up,
"You've got to be kidding me? It's only one song" I told my lonesome self, "it's bearable".
The red light stops me, as I wait impatiently, craving to get back to the security of my home. I notice a couple across the road laughing as they walk into a Chinese restaurant.
"So what?"
Amber, and I am off but I glance across the road, a stranger looks suddenly familiar,
"That's not him" I whisper in disbelief.
"No way. Oh, no wait, it's not"
I'm with you' softly surrounds me. My eyes blurred now, from a sickly song and a deceiving radio station! What is wrong with me today? I was seeing people and crying unneccessary tears. My phone buzzes in the door, stuck in traffic again i take a sneaky look '1 new text message. Read now'. "Hey :)".
"Is that it? Is that all he has to say to me? Why the FUCK did he text me?"
I angrily shouted at no one. All alone in my car I throw my phone on the floor.
Getting in the door I breathe in a waft of sweet curry, dinner must be ready but I didn't think Dad was home from work until tomorrow? He's not back, it's Luke who has left the food to heat in the oven. Oh my head is all over the place tonight. Taking my phone I read the text message again, yes, it still hasn't got any longer. Delete. Are you sure?
"Yes, I am sure",
I rifle through my phonebook and delete his number too. 'Forever' that's what he said. Today I achieve the award of first class fool. Tonight it is the bravery award, and tomorrow, maybe tomorrow it will be one step closer to contentment.
Stepping in my room I scent his hoody laying on my bed, I think it's time. I find my mum and dump the betrayal tainted items on her bed.
"Get rid of them, Please Mum" I look at her and stand in helplessness.
She hugs me tight, "No more tears now my dear, no more tears".
I hugged her back even tighter for fear of letting go she might see my red raw eyes. Back to my room, I slowly gather up all the old photos, cards and any other sentimental rubbish I had lying around.
"Here I go" I murmured to myself.
"Let him go".
The noise of the shredder echoed in my mind as I slipped into my PJ's and got into a hoody-less bed. That's better. Time to be upbeat, but not right now. Now is the time to let it out one last time I thought as a tear trickled onto my pillow. This time it felt neccessary. The flood followed and soon I was sub-conscious in a pool of aching tears.
Friday, 5 June 2009
what is this?
writing a blog? what is this? what am i meant to write about on here?
Maybe this is just a freeway to let out all your anxities or emotions, yet i fear if this was the case i would either bore people or wouldn't have enough space to write..
I think the weather can sometimes match my mood, I don't know about you, but when it's really sunny outside something inside craves to get out of bed and go and enjoy life. There is something about the sun which makes you want to live a little, embrace the day and at the end of it, you can't remember why you don't get up early everyday and pack it full of things to do.
I guess for me, in perfect coincidence with the weather i often find things around me that let you down. People or situations you put your hope into and it's taken away in a brief moment you haven't realised it's gone until hours later.
I think it is key to be optimisitc in times you find difficult or uncertain yet being human and full of a mixture of emotions it isn't always easy. One thing I know I can always rely on is that one thing in my life that is full of hope, full of restoration and love. How could I have ever turned away from you? How could I ever weep those tears and not let you wipe them from my breaking heart. When I can't face the day, you can.
When I am on my knees and praying to you, something has happened to make me need you, because this weak frame can't muster the smile to tell the world everything is going to be ok. Without you I would be lost, blind in a sea of people trying to find the right direction.
Is this a tad deep for a blog entry? Or maybe this is just that release I need because when i try and talk it doesn't always happen, being an English student is an ironic part of my life. Constructing a sentence is difficult enough, finding the right words, not blabbing out everything other than what I am trying to say, everyone has a flaw right?
enough said.
Maybe this is just a freeway to let out all your anxities or emotions, yet i fear if this was the case i would either bore people or wouldn't have enough space to write..
I think the weather can sometimes match my mood, I don't know about you, but when it's really sunny outside something inside craves to get out of bed and go and enjoy life. There is something about the sun which makes you want to live a little, embrace the day and at the end of it, you can't remember why you don't get up early everyday and pack it full of things to do.
I guess for me, in perfect coincidence with the weather i often find things around me that let you down. People or situations you put your hope into and it's taken away in a brief moment you haven't realised it's gone until hours later.
I think it is key to be optimisitc in times you find difficult or uncertain yet being human and full of a mixture of emotions it isn't always easy. One thing I know I can always rely on is that one thing in my life that is full of hope, full of restoration and love. How could I have ever turned away from you? How could I ever weep those tears and not let you wipe them from my breaking heart. When I can't face the day, you can.
When I am on my knees and praying to you, something has happened to make me need you, because this weak frame can't muster the smile to tell the world everything is going to be ok. Without you I would be lost, blind in a sea of people trying to find the right direction.
Is this a tad deep for a blog entry? Or maybe this is just that release I need because when i try and talk it doesn't always happen, being an English student is an ironic part of my life. Constructing a sentence is difficult enough, finding the right words, not blabbing out everything other than what I am trying to say, everyone has a flaw right?
enough said.
Wednesday, 3 June 2009
It's the small things in life
Those little words of encouragement, they are behind that glint in our eyes.
Small favours, no problem. Means more to me than you'll ever know.
A text goodnight, sweet dreams my dear, it's the small things that matter.
When you fall asleep on the sofa, after a long day at work, your mum, your friend, pulls a blanket over you to keep you warm.
A nice cuppa tea waiting for you when you get back after a frantic phone call.
A cake, for me? On my birthday so far away from my family.
That extra long hug, it's just what you need.
Your mate tells that awful joke or pulls that stupid face. Every time. It gets under your skin, you erupt with joy..
laughter that makes you stomach full of pain. Stop! You cry, but it's not what you mean!
Laughing when it's awkward and in silence, that's the moment that makes you tingle with excitment.
Laying in the sun, the frosty snow or rain, with nothing ahead, no regrets but knowing your free.
Free to live, make decisions, fall in love, change religion, say no, say yes, live for whats now and whats to come.
Being 19 it's not so bad.
Small favours, no problem. Means more to me than you'll ever know.
A text goodnight, sweet dreams my dear, it's the small things that matter.
When you fall asleep on the sofa, after a long day at work, your mum, your friend, pulls a blanket over you to keep you warm.
A nice cuppa tea waiting for you when you get back after a frantic phone call.
A cake, for me? On my birthday so far away from my family.
That extra long hug, it's just what you need.
Your mate tells that awful joke or pulls that stupid face. Every time. It gets under your skin, you erupt with joy..
laughter that makes you stomach full of pain. Stop! You cry, but it's not what you mean!
Laughing when it's awkward and in silence, that's the moment that makes you tingle with excitment.
Laying in the sun, the frosty snow or rain, with nothing ahead, no regrets but knowing your free.
Free to live, make decisions, fall in love, change religion, say no, say yes, live for whats now and whats to come.
Being 19 it's not so bad.
Tuesday, 2 June 2009
A head full of buttercups
Sitting in a field of yellow buttercups. I sprawl out my arms and lay back, the long grass tickling my neck. Eyes wide open staring into a dreamland, a sky so fresh, the air so clear. I smile as if all the warmth of the sun was coming from my face, breathing in second by second, wishing it would never end. A scent of unpolluted air, sweet and drowsy.
My hand is suddenly gripped by another, the soft flesh making me nervous and a reminder your here. I roll onto my side to see what connects that other hand. My smile deepens as I see your bright face. My face to touch is red hot, a gentle stroke and you put my hair behind my ear. I won't burn, I never do. No thanks. No need for suncream. I'm too cool.
A small glimpse of whats to come, a day where my mind is not deep in confusion. Instead, I'm blissfully ignorant, one step at a time, taking it all in. So much to breathe in. Too much beauty for one day. Then from nowhere, one pink flower says it all in an act of thievery.
Now I've said goodbye. Perhaps not to all the flowers in the field, but there will be time. I sit on my boat home, floating into land. Still I gaze at that sky and breathe in that sweet scent of pollen, only this time it's mixed with gritty fumes. All alone in my field of beauty tainted by petroleum, noise pollution and thoughts.
Thoughts once confused, no longer. A smile never lost, remains for now as I lay my head down upon a pillow of buttercups. Memories are what make a life, a life full of memories is one worth living. So lets start living.
My hand is suddenly gripped by another, the soft flesh making me nervous and a reminder your here. I roll onto my side to see what connects that other hand. My smile deepens as I see your bright face. My face to touch is red hot, a gentle stroke and you put my hair behind my ear. I won't burn, I never do. No thanks. No need for suncream. I'm too cool.
A small glimpse of whats to come, a day where my mind is not deep in confusion. Instead, I'm blissfully ignorant, one step at a time, taking it all in. So much to breathe in. Too much beauty for one day. Then from nowhere, one pink flower says it all in an act of thievery.
Now I've said goodbye. Perhaps not to all the flowers in the field, but there will be time. I sit on my boat home, floating into land. Still I gaze at that sky and breathe in that sweet scent of pollen, only this time it's mixed with gritty fumes. All alone in my field of beauty tainted by petroleum, noise pollution and thoughts.
Thoughts once confused, no longer. A smile never lost, remains for now as I lay my head down upon a pillow of buttercups. Memories are what make a life, a life full of memories is one worth living. So lets start living.
Monday, 18 May 2009
Late night scrawls
Walking through the under pass, all I could think about was what had been. I knew I had to come back at some point, but not now. I wasn’t ready to face anyone, especially those things which I knew would take more strength than I was capable of presently. I was weak with luggage and tired with anticipation. My own bad decisions coincided with my own stupidity. Stepping out into the street, chills abruptly coming and going, the sun hit my face. My vision was momentarily blocked when I stumbled forward, my case in hand and a dozen other bags balanced on my arms.
I had begun to make my way ‘home’. I looked from left to right and then straight ahead, with everything so familiar yet my mind elsewhere. I crossed the street as a single tear splashed onto my hand, but I quickly brushed its remains from my face. This was the last place I wanted to be, especially all alone with a weight upon my shoulders. Someone rescue me? Please, someone take me away from here, and take me to my real home.
Wednesday, 22 April 2009
DMU Library
WHY does the library insist on being like a sauna?
Maybe it is the perfect remedy for sweating out all the alcohol from a night out..
00h my goodness it is SO flipping hawttt!
I can't understand how this is healthy or helpful for students?!
Maybe it is the perfect remedy for sweating out all the alcohol from a night out..
00h my goodness it is SO flipping hawttt!
I can't understand how this is healthy or helpful for students?!
Wednesday, 15 April 2009
The road to a friend's house is never long
They say that friends come and go, but your family are for life. BUT, what if your family don’t stick around?
The friends you make in primary school, how many of them are you still close with? I think it is a rare occasion that you would have kept up a friendship all the way from primary school, unless it was without the help of family connections or good timing. Friends do tend to come and go through your life, but there are those people in your life that you hold on to. Those friends who make that difference enough in your life, those friends who care enough to go out of their way, the ones who put your needs above that date they had planned, they are worth your time.
These people listen to you, they know you, your loves and your hates. They see your imperfections and love you for them. Friends who know exactly how to embarrass you, who know what face to pull or joke to say, sometimes just a word and it puts a smile on your face. These friends are rare, they make the effort with you, even when you feeling like shutting the world out. And when this friend goes through tough times, it’s you they turn to because they know your one of those rare finds.
They believe in you, even when you’re making an awful decision. They are patient, with your lateness, your strops and relationship dramas. They know how to make you the perfect drink, tea, coffee, whatever it is you love. They tell you the blunt truth; you look like death, and I don’t think that guy is right for you, I saw her cheat on you, that dress looks too tight.
These friends don’t need a reason to give you a hug, to bring you your favourite food, or cook you dinner, to take you out for the day and turn up on your door unexpectedly. They do it because they love you, they would not want to be anywhere but sitting in front of a crummy movie eating ice cream, or down the pub having a pint with you. These friends need you as much as you need them; they would be as lost, without your all night sessions of playing computer games or a heavy night of drinking as you would be.
These friends come and find you when you've “gone to clear your head”, they come and see you when they are missing you, they let you cry in front of them then take the mic out of you enough to make you smile and they give you the pep talk you need to face that person who is making your life a misery.
These friends are rare, normally formed in the shape of one.
They hold onto you because they know you are worth it too. This friend can go months without seeing you, but when you meet up it’s like no time has passed. They never forget your birthday, because they are either with you or wishing they could be.
To find so many qualities in one person, practically impossible in this world, right?
But when you have a friend that comes pretty darn close, you know their worth holding onto.
It’s time to return those rare qualities...
The friends you make in primary school, how many of them are you still close with? I think it is a rare occasion that you would have kept up a friendship all the way from primary school, unless it was without the help of family connections or good timing. Friends do tend to come and go through your life, but there are those people in your life that you hold on to. Those friends who make that difference enough in your life, those friends who care enough to go out of their way, the ones who put your needs above that date they had planned, they are worth your time.
These people listen to you, they know you, your loves and your hates. They see your imperfections and love you for them. Friends who know exactly how to embarrass you, who know what face to pull or joke to say, sometimes just a word and it puts a smile on your face. These friends are rare, they make the effort with you, even when you feeling like shutting the world out. And when this friend goes through tough times, it’s you they turn to because they know your one of those rare finds.
They believe in you, even when you’re making an awful decision. They are patient, with your lateness, your strops and relationship dramas. They know how to make you the perfect drink, tea, coffee, whatever it is you love. They tell you the blunt truth; you look like death, and I don’t think that guy is right for you, I saw her cheat on you, that dress looks too tight.
These friends don’t need a reason to give you a hug, to bring you your favourite food, or cook you dinner, to take you out for the day and turn up on your door unexpectedly. They do it because they love you, they would not want to be anywhere but sitting in front of a crummy movie eating ice cream, or down the pub having a pint with you. These friends need you as much as you need them; they would be as lost, without your all night sessions of playing computer games or a heavy night of drinking as you would be.
These friends come and find you when you've “gone to clear your head”, they come and see you when they are missing you, they let you cry in front of them then take the mic out of you enough to make you smile and they give you the pep talk you need to face that person who is making your life a misery.
These friends are rare, normally formed in the shape of one.
They hold onto you because they know you are worth it too. This friend can go months without seeing you, but when you meet up it’s like no time has passed. They never forget your birthday, because they are either with you or wishing they could be.
To find so many qualities in one person, practically impossible in this world, right?
But when you have a friend that comes pretty darn close, you know their worth holding onto.
It’s time to return those rare qualities...
Saturday, 4 April 2009
First tattoo (July 2008)
This is a piece of work I wrote as part of my course at university about my first tattoo, which I got done whilst in India in 2008..
I can’t believe I am actually going to do this. My hands are shaking and I am breaking into a cold sweat. Why did I let her talk me into this? If I go first and she doesn’t get one done too I am going to flip out. At least it will be worth it when I go home because If I don’t do it now then I will definitely never do it because I’ll just chicken out. Just think of the cake, think of the cake. The cake. No I can’t do this, it’s too scary. Oh crap we are here; there is no going back now. If this man gets it wrong I think I might cry.
He says it won’t be painful but I am not convinced. My hands are so sweaty. It’s really hot in here or is that just me, maybe it’s just me. Oh gosh don’t look at the needle. Oh crap I looked its massive. Oh fuck this is actually going to happen. If she lets go of my hand I might scream or cry, maybe I’ll even pass out then I won’t have to do it.
Those needles best be clean or my mum will kill me if I come back with an infected tattoo. Wow. I can’t believe, oh fuck that hurts. Ouch. Why the hell did I let her talk me into FUCK. Wow this is painful. Everyone told me it wouldn’t hurt. Why does he have a strange look on his face? This is creeping me out. What am I doing? It’s so scratchy it’s like torture.
Ok. The worst is over with. Cool. It looks cool. I have a tattoo. Awesome. I am so cool. I wonder what my mum will say. Maybe I won’t show her first of all. What a surprise everyone will get, innocent little Alice has a tattoo. Ouch!! Not again. Please God. Not again. Shit. Shit. This is more painful the second time round. It’s ok. It will be over soon. Any minute now. No? Keep going. Ok. I hate you! You are causing me so much pain. Oh it’s done. Phew that was quicker than I thought. I wonder if it will bleed.
So glad it’s over. It’s really sore. Jeepers, no one said it would be this sore. Now it’s your turn missy. Bet she will cry, I hope she does, it caused me enough pain. Now there is no getting out of it for you. I hope she doesn’t break my hand.
I can’t believe I am actually going to do this. My hands are shaking and I am breaking into a cold sweat. Why did I let her talk me into this? If I go first and she doesn’t get one done too I am going to flip out. At least it will be worth it when I go home because If I don’t do it now then I will definitely never do it because I’ll just chicken out. Just think of the cake, think of the cake. The cake. No I can’t do this, it’s too scary. Oh crap we are here; there is no going back now. If this man gets it wrong I think I might cry.
He says it won’t be painful but I am not convinced. My hands are so sweaty. It’s really hot in here or is that just me, maybe it’s just me. Oh gosh don’t look at the needle. Oh crap I looked its massive. Oh fuck this is actually going to happen. If she lets go of my hand I might scream or cry, maybe I’ll even pass out then I won’t have to do it.
Those needles best be clean or my mum will kill me if I come back with an infected tattoo. Wow. I can’t believe, oh fuck that hurts. Ouch. Why the hell did I let her talk me into FUCK. Wow this is painful. Everyone told me it wouldn’t hurt. Why does he have a strange look on his face? This is creeping me out. What am I doing? It’s so scratchy it’s like torture.
Ok. The worst is over with. Cool. It looks cool. I have a tattoo. Awesome. I am so cool. I wonder what my mum will say. Maybe I won’t show her first of all. What a surprise everyone will get, innocent little Alice has a tattoo. Ouch!! Not again. Please God. Not again. Shit. Shit. This is more painful the second time round. It’s ok. It will be over soon. Any minute now. No? Keep going. Ok. I hate you! You are causing me so much pain. Oh it’s done. Phew that was quicker than I thought. I wonder if it will bleed.
So glad it’s over. It’s really sore. Jeepers, no one said it would be this sore. Now it’s your turn missy. Bet she will cry, I hope she does, it caused me enough pain. Now there is no getting out of it for you. I hope she doesn’t break my hand.
Monday, 23 March 2009
Anger is an issue
Appologies for swearing, this is a fictional piece based on a patient in a mental asylum..
"I’m Angry. Apparently, they put me in here because I go blind with rage. Silly fuckers. Do I look angry to you? I am not angry at all, that’s not the right word to describe how he made me feel. When he pinned me down. And used my head as a hammer, my body as a tool. He should be in here. Locked up without a key. Being told your crazy, a psycho, mental, abusive, a disturbed human being who is a bit fruity, a loco lunatic. My brains unstable, unbalanced, I am a tad nutsy but i’m not fucking angry. When they pulled me from the mess of his body they shouted at me, deranged, schizoid, fucking nutter, stupid screwball, she is off her nut, crackpot. Wanker. That’s what I echoed in return. You try living with someone who puts his fag ends out on your face. That’s right, I’m the fucking lunatic. I’m the one who got locked away because I am the one who got abused, who got thrown about as if i was a sack of potatoes. He had it coming. Fucking good. That’s what i felt when i saw the blood pour out his skull. But i’m not angry, not me."
"I’m Angry. Apparently, they put me in here because I go blind with rage. Silly fuckers. Do I look angry to you? I am not angry at all, that’s not the right word to describe how he made me feel. When he pinned me down. And used my head as a hammer, my body as a tool. He should be in here. Locked up without a key. Being told your crazy, a psycho, mental, abusive, a disturbed human being who is a bit fruity, a loco lunatic. My brains unstable, unbalanced, I am a tad nutsy but i’m not fucking angry. When they pulled me from the mess of his body they shouted at me, deranged, schizoid, fucking nutter, stupid screwball, she is off her nut, crackpot. Wanker. That’s what I echoed in return. You try living with someone who puts his fag ends out on your face. That’s right, I’m the fucking lunatic. I’m the one who got locked away because I am the one who got abused, who got thrown about as if i was a sack of potatoes. He had it coming. Fucking good. That’s what i felt when i saw the blood pour out his skull. But i’m not angry, not me."
Tuesday, 17 March 2009
Nothing beats a bit of tlc
When the clouds start to gather over head,
when your crumbling into blindness,
when your vision is your reflection,
when you want out, but have no hands to reach it,
a little bit of tender loving care is all you need.
If you end up suffocated with no cash back, no guarantee,
if your creeping into a pit where nothing seeps in,
if your being here is a hollow absence,
if you can't understand or comprehend yourself,
a little bit of tender loving care is all you need.
Then you can wipe the salt from your eyes,
then your shoulders become much lighter,
then your not alone, but your embraced,
then you can say yes, a sweeping revelation,
a little bit of tender loving care is all I need
to be comforted with my head held high,
to forget my deep cuts caused by their words,
to remember I am worthy, I am someone,
to say yes, with an arm around my shoulder,
a little bit of tender loving care is all I needed.
when your crumbling into blindness,
when your vision is your reflection,
when you want out, but have no hands to reach it,
a little bit of tender loving care is all you need.
If you end up suffocated with no cash back, no guarantee,
if your creeping into a pit where nothing seeps in,
if your being here is a hollow absence,
if you can't understand or comprehend yourself,
a little bit of tender loving care is all you need.
Then you can wipe the salt from your eyes,
then your shoulders become much lighter,
then your not alone, but your embraced,
then you can say yes, a sweeping revelation,
a little bit of tender loving care is all I need
to be comforted with my head held high,
to forget my deep cuts caused by their words,
to remember I am worthy, I am someone,
to say yes, with an arm around my shoulder,
a little bit of tender loving care is all I needed.
Saturday, 14 March 2009
Inhibitions
These are things that we are so afraid of saying, or acting in a certain way...
For me, I hate karaoke, at least when I am sober i do. But if I am honest, even when I have had a few to drink I still find it scares me silly. I just KNOW that I can't sing, I wish I could, but I am not going to do anything about it because it doesn't bother me enough. When I am out in a club and I know a song I will just sing a long fine and happy because I am being silly and no one cares when your in a crowd full of people, you don't care. What matters is the unified voice singing above the noise of the song, every drunk face joined in unison to bring about a murmur of noise.
Inhibitions come in so many forms, mine come in worrying what people think about me too much when it comes to singing karaoke, or becoming very rowdy and silly. It's a great feeling when you don't let your inhibitions rule you, but instead, you go crazy!! For most people this happens when you are drunk, except you take that step and run a mile... everyone tends to take things a little too far!
I have given up alcohol for lent and it is proving to be a challenge so far, but it has been over 2 and a half weeks an i have managed it so far. So when I am in a situation, such as a club, surrounded by drunks, i can let my inhibitions go as well. They won't remember. These drunkards around me won't blink an eye, so who cares if i dance crazy and sing painfully, if I am really loud and rowdy, who cares? No one but me will remember in the morning. And waking up feeling o.k is a pretty good feeling. Not wasting my day in bed or feeling hungover.
So i think once you put yourself in a situation where you have no choice but to let go of your inhibitions, regardless if you are drunk or not, I think the results can be incredible. I had an amazing night on Thursday when i didn't drink. So perhaps I will continue this. I will at least until Easter, which is about 4 weeks time. Maybe I will learn a lot from this experience, I definitely am learning people think I am a little crazy because I am giving up alcohol which in their eyes is "impossible". I will prove them wrong.
I can't say that, whenever I am in a karaoke situation ,I will go up and sing, alcohol or not, because I haven't quite got to that stage. I will need to work on this one...
For me, I hate karaoke, at least when I am sober i do. But if I am honest, even when I have had a few to drink I still find it scares me silly. I just KNOW that I can't sing, I wish I could, but I am not going to do anything about it because it doesn't bother me enough. When I am out in a club and I know a song I will just sing a long fine and happy because I am being silly and no one cares when your in a crowd full of people, you don't care. What matters is the unified voice singing above the noise of the song, every drunk face joined in unison to bring about a murmur of noise.
Inhibitions come in so many forms, mine come in worrying what people think about me too much when it comes to singing karaoke, or becoming very rowdy and silly. It's a great feeling when you don't let your inhibitions rule you, but instead, you go crazy!! For most people this happens when you are drunk, except you take that step and run a mile... everyone tends to take things a little too far!
I have given up alcohol for lent and it is proving to be a challenge so far, but it has been over 2 and a half weeks an i have managed it so far. So when I am in a situation, such as a club, surrounded by drunks, i can let my inhibitions go as well. They won't remember. These drunkards around me won't blink an eye, so who cares if i dance crazy and sing painfully, if I am really loud and rowdy, who cares? No one but me will remember in the morning. And waking up feeling o.k is a pretty good feeling. Not wasting my day in bed or feeling hungover.
So i think once you put yourself in a situation where you have no choice but to let go of your inhibitions, regardless if you are drunk or not, I think the results can be incredible. I had an amazing night on Thursday when i didn't drink. So perhaps I will continue this. I will at least until Easter, which is about 4 weeks time. Maybe I will learn a lot from this experience, I definitely am learning people think I am a little crazy because I am giving up alcohol which in their eyes is "impossible". I will prove them wrong.
I can't say that, whenever I am in a karaoke situation ,I will go up and sing, alcohol or not, because I haven't quite got to that stage. I will need to work on this one...
Tuesday, 10 March 2009
Every time I travel
... I end up with a story. Why is that? Do you think it's because of the way the world is created... full of people so unlike each other, so unique, with their own mannerisms, quirks and practices? When different cultures meet perhaps they sometimes collide?
Every time I travel i see a new expression, a new face with their sadness, joy or confusion. Their smiles from soft to exuberant. Every inch of their face tells it's own story, their outfit chosen for the day, none the same. Young couples who like to show each other off, to old couples who still hold hands.
Is it true the further north you go the friendlier people get?
Maybe my stories came about because my personality tends to be one that is inevitably going to get itself into an awkward situation to a journey from hell. You hear about those people that things happen to, I think it must be the way the world works, that i am that person. I have been hand selected to take on what this unexplainable planet has to dish out. If something is going to go wrong it will. It's not always a 'bad' thing that happens, but it is definitely, at the time, a cause for considerable patients.
So. My story. When I travel. Do you think I end up with something to tell because my being is destined this way, after every journey and because I look friendly so an advantage is taken?
These people must specifically be placed to find me. To torment me, talk to me. To frustrate me or bother my peaceful reading. The reading I am frantically trying to catch up on for uni. I feel ready for anything with the knowledge of past experiences packed in my bag. My book and headphones at the ready.
Phone? Check
Food? Check
Now all I have to do is aboard my mode of transport and hope for the best. Hope that today, it won't be my day. that today I will get to my destination in peace, unstressed and ready for whatever, or whoever awaits me at the end.
But, with the ways of the world as they are, and the people within it being out of my control, I can only go prepared. My hope is packed and my patients is within snatching distance.
Here.
I.
Go...
Every time I travel i see a new expression, a new face with their sadness, joy or confusion. Their smiles from soft to exuberant. Every inch of their face tells it's own story, their outfit chosen for the day, none the same. Young couples who like to show each other off, to old couples who still hold hands.
Is it true the further north you go the friendlier people get?
Maybe my stories came about because my personality tends to be one that is inevitably going to get itself into an awkward situation to a journey from hell. You hear about those people that things happen to, I think it must be the way the world works, that i am that person. I have been hand selected to take on what this unexplainable planet has to dish out. If something is going to go wrong it will. It's not always a 'bad' thing that happens, but it is definitely, at the time, a cause for considerable patients.
So. My story. When I travel. Do you think I end up with something to tell because my being is destined this way, after every journey and because I look friendly so an advantage is taken?
These people must specifically be placed to find me. To torment me, talk to me. To frustrate me or bother my peaceful reading. The reading I am frantically trying to catch up on for uni. I feel ready for anything with the knowledge of past experiences packed in my bag. My book and headphones at the ready.
Phone? Check
Food? Check
Now all I have to do is aboard my mode of transport and hope for the best. Hope that today, it won't be my day. that today I will get to my destination in peace, unstressed and ready for whatever, or whoever awaits me at the end.
But, with the ways of the world as they are, and the people within it being out of my control, I can only go prepared. My hope is packed and my patients is within snatching distance.
Here.
I.
Go...
Friday, 27 February 2009
Knowledge, Wisdom & Imagination
"Imagination is more important than knowledge. For while knowledge defines all we currently know and understand, imagination points to all we might yet discover and create" (Albert Einstein)
I think it is so important to be 'wise' but i believe this is different to having a lot of knowledge. Having knowledge is about knowing a subject so well you could answer any question on it or tell me any fact about it. However you could be very knowledgeable and have no wisdom. Wisdom is so different to knowledge because i believe it comes from your 'life skills' and what you experience as an individual as to why you acquire wisdom. I believe that knowledge can help in some understanding of say different cultures, different literary texts and authors however it is the wisdom you have behind this 'information' that defines you as a person.
I prefer to live my life in learning more about how acquire wisdom rather than someone who is full of useless facts and general knowledge. I am not saying I am very wise, in fact far from it, but I would rather attain to be wise over having my brain stored up with useless information which helps you win pub quizzes. Which ironically I am useless at.
I think that wisdom comes from a deeper sense of understanding of life and the things we experience. Wisdom is something that can help you in the darkest moments of life, something that brings optimism and a new idea into the depths of our human emotion. I think it can also be a guide into the way you live your life, to make the most from your life in a full and loving way.
Albert Einstein was, as we know, a genius. He understood that it is our imagination which helps open up new ideas and new thinking. Being a creative writing student I am not forced to learn facts or rammed with information on a daily basis, if anything it is the opposite. I am learning to use my own mind, not force fed from other peoples minds. I am left to think, to build upon ideas and create writing, from what at first, would appear no where. From the solid substance that is my brain. Some might argue that it is your imagination which is more valuable than all the wealth of knowledge in the world.
Without an imagination you are left to dry up like a well in a dessert. An empty waterhole with nothing to flourish from. But by using your imagination and creating ideas which you never thought yourself capable of, gives you a new lease, a new sense of freedom which could take you any place. Along with this, having wisdom about living your life, in the way you deem things righteous and good can be used to apply into your writing, along with the things you experience.
I think that with wisdom & imagination something incredible can happen. Something which can inspire or intrigue people, but it has be acquired and learnt, often through the day to day lives we lead. The trials we face and the blessings we receive. But we learn, through every right or wrong decision. We are always learning...
We don't need to have facts flown at us from every side to justify ourselves as learning or working hard through our writing. It is only the ignorant that think this is an easy course, an easy way of life. What they don't realise is that they are missing out on their own imagination, which is key to life, key to creating and developing not only academic skills but life skills.
We are being enabled to see ideas and life from another side.
A creative side.
Tuesday, 24 February 2009
Sweet Kid
Sweets always make me think of something innocent or something sinister. Never in between. After having a phone conversation for over 2hours it refreshed my memory as to how much i love sweets. every colour, every shape, every taste different to the last. The moment it touches the tip of your tounge it sends your taste buds flying off the walls.
From gummybears,
to bubblegum bottles,
lemon bonbons, eclairs and sweet sweet cheeries,
apple laces,
dipdabs,
swizzlers and palma violets,
from "mmm" to "ugggh", too much colouring, too tangy, too sweet?
My, shall we say, obbssession? Has got me nowhere but brief minutes of heaven tainted by teeth needing fillings and an addicition, craving, for more sweets, for particulars.
'Craving', this is defintaley something I used to experience when I hadn't tasted something sweet for a few days.
Never good, for you,
sherbet,
saucers,
jellybeans,
cola bottles,
toffee apples?
Where do I stop? When should I stop? Lucikly I am not so dominated by sweets in my life turning into a 20 year old. However I do still love them, but I am not so controlled by them.
My sweet tooth steadily turning into love of savoury items even more so. Is this because I am older? Will my child inside die with this enthuse for sweets?
Not yet, not now, I am still a child. Despite a little more freedom, a little more responsibility for my life, I am still a kid. Still immature, still loving sweets.
Bring on Pancake day, a good day for this sweet toothed kid :P
Monday, 23 February 2009
Coach Terror
I have never been on such an awful, hair-pulling, boiling my brains journey in all my LIFE! Which is a long 19 and a half years... It was THE definitive torture with undisciplined and uncontrolled children banging on the back of our seats. Their whining and singing in our ears with random outbursts of screaming with excitement, telling the whole coach we are going to Manchester. REALLY??? As if I didn't know what I paid for?
And breathe. Talking of this journey just brings back the whirl of anger i could feel roaring up inside me, which caused me to go slightly mad and get blind drunk once i had reached my destination. I blame the people on the bus. I blame the coach driver, a lairy bromey who thought he was funny but the fact was his comments WEREN'T JOKES!
One good thing was the company of my friend Nat. Luckily she was feeling the pain too. 5 and a half hours after leaving Leicester we finally arrived practically dripping with sweat having stripped off the 3 layers i was wearing. Requests to turn the heating off seemed to be acknowledged, but clearly my rosy cheeks, and banging headache said otherwise!!!
I praise God. The journey home was like chocolate melted over candy floss. Pure heaven. At least it was in comparison to the way up. I literally, have never felt so angry, at parents who just can't control their kids. I cannot comprehend what goes on in their brains. I know the coach breaking down added an extra cherry to our already perfect dessert of a trip. Mm how I wish I could re-live that moment in another lifetime, so this time i can forget my morals, forget my patients, a world where I wouldn't be arrested for lashing out on the people in that coach!
I am not a physco. But i can say, that all the possibilities of murder where going through my head. Ashamed? Not particularly, not after the pain they caused me. In reality of course I gritted my teeth, as soon as the coach pulled into the station I jumped up , pegged it as fast as I could off the bus, and into the happy arms of my friends. They were carrying a bottle of wine. True friendship. They had read my mind!
And breathe. Talking of this journey just brings back the whirl of anger i could feel roaring up inside me, which caused me to go slightly mad and get blind drunk once i had reached my destination. I blame the people on the bus. I blame the coach driver, a lairy bromey who thought he was funny but the fact was his comments WEREN'T JOKES!
One good thing was the company of my friend Nat. Luckily she was feeling the pain too. 5 and a half hours after leaving Leicester we finally arrived practically dripping with sweat having stripped off the 3 layers i was wearing. Requests to turn the heating off seemed to be acknowledged, but clearly my rosy cheeks, and banging headache said otherwise!!!
I praise God. The journey home was like chocolate melted over candy floss. Pure heaven. At least it was in comparison to the way up. I literally, have never felt so angry, at parents who just can't control their kids. I cannot comprehend what goes on in their brains. I know the coach breaking down added an extra cherry to our already perfect dessert of a trip. Mm how I wish I could re-live that moment in another lifetime, so this time i can forget my morals, forget my patients, a world where I wouldn't be arrested for lashing out on the people in that coach!
I am not a physco. But i can say, that all the possibilities of murder where going through my head. Ashamed? Not particularly, not after the pain they caused me. In reality of course I gritted my teeth, as soon as the coach pulled into the station I jumped up , pegged it as fast as I could off the bus, and into the happy arms of my friends. They were carrying a bottle of wine. True friendship. They had read my mind!
Sunshinecity... YOU WHAT?
I am sunshinecity, I created it, it comes come from my imagination and has no real meaning. Maybe it's because I was born in the summer, my favourite time of year. Maybe it's because I wanted something that sounded 'cool' or 'inventive' for my blog!
"YOU WHAT YOU WHAT??"
It's the same old chant, the same phrase repeated everynight at a club. The, dare i say it, chavy group of people who claim to be 'cool'. In those moments of hearing their cliche chants and drunken shouts I thank God I am not a part of it.
"YOU WHAT YOU WHAT??"
It's the same old chant, the same phrase repeated everynight at a club. The, dare i say it, chavy group of people who claim to be 'cool'. In those moments of hearing their cliche chants and drunken shouts I thank God I am not a part of it.
Sunday, 22 February 2009
Intoxication
This is what it feels like to be intoxicated, where my blood runs thin with poison. I could say 'It was an accident' or 'they bought my drinks' but that would be lying. 38hours later and I am still feeling the affects of downing a whole bottle of wine in 15minutes.
Why do we do it to ourselves?
Sleep deprivation and lack of food consumption is lethal. I need to rest my sore eyes, close my body down into a sub-concious state. If only to feel right again; to feel relief from this horrific self-inflicted illness.
The night itself was epic. From the meeting of an old friend who I haven't seen in a year to the forgetting about my life back in Leicester. Being with my closest friends, laughing at old times, enjoying the night life of manchester whilst keeping each other steady on our feet.
Flash Flash
A kiss on the cheek and it's captured forever. A hug with a silly face, a pout, a laugh and so it's all 'remember this', 'remember that' as afternoon dawns. 3 in the bed and the little one said 'oh my head'. Paracetemol? Toilet basin? Shower?
But all I want is good health. Tommoro it will arrive, or maybe the day after.
But for now sleep is all i hear. calling me. begging me. needing me.
Why do we do it to ourselves?
Sleep deprivation and lack of food consumption is lethal. I need to rest my sore eyes, close my body down into a sub-concious state. If only to feel right again; to feel relief from this horrific self-inflicted illness.
The night itself was epic. From the meeting of an old friend who I haven't seen in a year to the forgetting about my life back in Leicester. Being with my closest friends, laughing at old times, enjoying the night life of manchester whilst keeping each other steady on our feet.
Flash Flash
A kiss on the cheek and it's captured forever. A hug with a silly face, a pout, a laugh and so it's all 'remember this', 'remember that' as afternoon dawns. 3 in the bed and the little one said 'oh my head'. Paracetemol? Toilet basin? Shower?
But all I want is good health. Tommoro it will arrive, or maybe the day after.
But for now sleep is all i hear. calling me. begging me. needing me.
Tuesday, 17 February 2009
Why do I feel like this?
This day, it passes me by so quickly. I need to sleep but i don't want to sleep. Why should I? I have other things to do, I have a life. Don't I? Maybe not...
All that my limbs want to do is rest untill the sun goes down, and then rest again, until the sun comes up. Stress has it's way of overcoming everything that we rely upon. My strength to make it in to Uni today, my strength to motivate myself to do anything active.
All this is waiting, holding onto, giving into, thursday. Nothing special to the naked eye but to me it is a day of realising that being ill is all in my head. Or a day of understanding, moving forward, getting better, peace, reassurance that it's not all in my head.
Let that day come. Let me have strength to not go mad in these four walls. Let me go home! :
All that my limbs want to do is rest untill the sun goes down, and then rest again, until the sun comes up. Stress has it's way of overcoming everything that we rely upon. My strength to make it in to Uni today, my strength to motivate myself to do anything active.
All this is waiting, holding onto, giving into, thursday. Nothing special to the naked eye but to me it is a day of realising that being ill is all in my head. Or a day of understanding, moving forward, getting better, peace, reassurance that it's not all in my head.
On a more positive note...
I am happy that I managed to make cookies yesterday and they tasted delicious.
So excited for pancake day aswell.
Going to eat SO many pancakes. :D
Monday, 16 February 2009
And we all float on..
I love the song 'Float On' by Modest Mouse. It's so good it's my ringtone...
And here we are, creative writing students waiting to go to the pub. to have food not to drink. Being 10.22am it's a little early, even for me.
My sleeping patterns are seriously in a mess at the moment. Sleeping well over 12 hours both saturday and sunday and then lacking in sleep last night. Not being able to sleep until 3am!
A serious issue.
What to say?
And here we are, creative writing students waiting to go to the pub. to have food not to drink. Being 10.22am it's a little early, even for me.
My sleeping patterns are seriously in a mess at the moment. Sleeping well over 12 hours both saturday and sunday and then lacking in sleep last night. Not being able to sleep until 3am!
A serious issue.
What to say?
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Overlooking Mumbai
'Bliss'
