Well, currently I am all free and lovely but previously I was not. Exams make me mean, cold, harsh and incredibly boring. I do apologise if I have bored anyone *Glare at Stagbitch*. Back to normal posts.
Friends
Well the majority of my friends are fine and I think it's going to get more stable from the shaky position it's been during exams. However I have recently lost one friend, he's not dead, just a dick. Marshal was just totally cutting and harsh for no apparant reason and he makes no effort with me. I have no duty to him to be his friend or put up with his shit, so fuck it. He's out of the picture in my mind.Two of my girlies have new male interests, one of them being rather aged compared. I'm really happy for them. Their secret smiles make me all fuzzy inside.
Family
My mum recently gave permission for me to sleep over at Him's house which is amazing of her as she's usually quite controlling. I think she's really proud of me for getting through these exams without another break down. Last exam season me and her argued pretty badly and I like screamed and shouted, it was not pretty. Sisters awesome, if a little annoying. N is nice recently. I feel suspicious of him though. There was a huge scandal a while ago where my sis had some suspicions about his fidelity. I check his history now and keep watch, just to keep mumsie safe. He's alright most of the time, when he's not whining. Dad's awesome and C is also coolies, seeing them this weekend.
N's daughter is pregnant with her second child. My aunty recently got engaged. Sitatution with crazy Cousin is no better, her sister is doing well and wants to go into Criminal science.
Bus
This has been a big thing recently, so I want to moan. Frodo has moved downstairs bringing the second Bummer Twin with him. Urgh, as if one wasn't bad enough. The Handsome One seems to be a little reserved, but has come to accept his position as rejected in favour of Headphone Mans coolness. Owl Boy...my darling. He's growing up and it unnerves me, I don't know whether to treat him like a kid or like someone my age. I might try the latter tommorow.
School
Psychology - Went okay. Almost well.
Biology - Felt I did crap.
English - Felt I did crap.
Philosophy - Felt I was a crap.
Love
As mentioned earlier, the Mutti has allowed me to sleep over Him's so I'm super psyched about that happening someday. I want to fall asleep knowing he's a moment away from me, sleeping in his arms has been so safe before. He even shhs me when I twitch like a freak. I feel totally wrapped up in cotton wool type love and it doesn't bother me I'm not super in control, being taken care of has been a welcome break especially in the exam season. I just wish I could hold him and kiss him all the time. Oh I'm close to crying now, MOVE ON.
Mind - Stressed
Body - Tired and flabby, will feel strong and toned when I get the energy soon.
Soul - At peace, was all worked up in a flapper but is on a come down off a high.
Hobbies
I want to write, I've been pouring out endless creativity recently and I just want to bottle it and share it around. Especially in the romance tragedy area. I feel another Lovers Grave coming along....Yay or Nay?
Thursday, 10 June 2010
Tuesday, 8 June 2010
Ten Minutes as Me
She ran, her feet hitting the pavement with a rhythmic smack that satisfied her yearn for movement. Her muscles felt like a plant starved of water, finally feeling the first droplets of rain. She ran without grace, in a primal way. Her run was hectic and rushed, not that of the joggers at the side of the road. She seemed to mimic more a person in trouble, running from danger or punishment.
Her fear that she ran from was distant, it was the fear of failure. By running she felt that instant gratification, no chance of getting it wrong, just one foot, next foot, left right. Past her she saw the monotonous landscape of identical houses. With each one she could track her pace, counting how many houses till the turning or how many she passed with 50 footsteps. Unfortunately, it wasn’t running without purpose. Her mother had asked her to go and buy eggs for Yorkshire puddings, and since the girl herself did like to eat eggs with breakfast, she decided to oblige.
With the shop in the distance her pace slowed to a swagger. Feeling it silly to walk into a shop huffing and puffing she dawdled along, catching the breath that had escaped her. Success flooded through her, even at the small achievement of being able to run to the local store; nothing was too small to be proud of. Inside the store was blaring with the shouting colours of packaging, each one boasting to be ‘Best in the market’ or ‘Even tastier!’. She scoffed and found the plainest carton of eggs, scooping it into one of her arms. She grabbed some chocolate off the best shelf in the shop, a bargaining chip thrown in to convince her to get eggs. She sighed and approached the till.
“How are you?” The brightly ginger woman said from behind the till, her voice distant and uninterested.
“Good” The girl replied. She was stuck for words after that, not knowing how to interact. The woman recited the price and she paid, silently pondering what she could say.
“Have a nice day” The woman said and the girl murmured “You too.” But it was too quiet and too late. She wandered back out in the street, disappointed she couldn’t run back home. The handful of change, eggs, chocolate and mobile was too much to try and keep track of when trying to run in her own way.
Sauntering back she took more time to look at things, namely people. Two boys on bikes passed her, both peering inquisitively at her. They were blatantly younger than her but she felt closer to them than the two teenagers in bright hoodies and dark hats across the road that probably were her age. She saw a woman moaning at her teenage daughter about presents and wondered if all teenagers looked so moody and then deliberately brightened her face. She watched her shadow for a moment, watching her hair writhe around her in the breeze. She liked her hair in this style, front sections tied at the back of her head but people called it ‘odd’ and ‘unusual’ so she tended to not do it.
Her house came up quicker than she expected. A car blared past with grime music playing loudly out the rolled down window. Home felt so good, although it never felt safe. She felt like often she couldn’t be herself in the presence of her mother; censoring her words, toning down her actions and tiptoeing around feelings. She quickly threw down the eggs and change, running upstairs to her personal haven. She stopped off on the way to place a chocolate bar on her sisters laptop, to surprise her for when she got home after her hard last day on her project. Smug at her thoughtfulness she returned to her cushy bedroom. Swathed with fur, fans and clutter – she loved it. Flopping on the bed she picked up her laptop and began typing, perhaps a little too hardly, as a creative idea zipped its way inside her head….
Her fear that she ran from was distant, it was the fear of failure. By running she felt that instant gratification, no chance of getting it wrong, just one foot, next foot, left right. Past her she saw the monotonous landscape of identical houses. With each one she could track her pace, counting how many houses till the turning or how many she passed with 50 footsteps. Unfortunately, it wasn’t running without purpose. Her mother had asked her to go and buy eggs for Yorkshire puddings, and since the girl herself did like to eat eggs with breakfast, she decided to oblige.
With the shop in the distance her pace slowed to a swagger. Feeling it silly to walk into a shop huffing and puffing she dawdled along, catching the breath that had escaped her. Success flooded through her, even at the small achievement of being able to run to the local store; nothing was too small to be proud of. Inside the store was blaring with the shouting colours of packaging, each one boasting to be ‘Best in the market’ or ‘Even tastier!’. She scoffed and found the plainest carton of eggs, scooping it into one of her arms. She grabbed some chocolate off the best shelf in the shop, a bargaining chip thrown in to convince her to get eggs. She sighed and approached the till.
“How are you?” The brightly ginger woman said from behind the till, her voice distant and uninterested.
“Good” The girl replied. She was stuck for words after that, not knowing how to interact. The woman recited the price and she paid, silently pondering what she could say.
“Have a nice day” The woman said and the girl murmured “You too.” But it was too quiet and too late. She wandered back out in the street, disappointed she couldn’t run back home. The handful of change, eggs, chocolate and mobile was too much to try and keep track of when trying to run in her own way.
Sauntering back she took more time to look at things, namely people. Two boys on bikes passed her, both peering inquisitively at her. They were blatantly younger than her but she felt closer to them than the two teenagers in bright hoodies and dark hats across the road that probably were her age. She saw a woman moaning at her teenage daughter about presents and wondered if all teenagers looked so moody and then deliberately brightened her face. She watched her shadow for a moment, watching her hair writhe around her in the breeze. She liked her hair in this style, front sections tied at the back of her head but people called it ‘odd’ and ‘unusual’ so she tended to not do it.
Her house came up quicker than she expected. A car blared past with grime music playing loudly out the rolled down window. Home felt so good, although it never felt safe. She felt like often she couldn’t be herself in the presence of her mother; censoring her words, toning down her actions and tiptoeing around feelings. She quickly threw down the eggs and change, running upstairs to her personal haven. She stopped off on the way to place a chocolate bar on her sisters laptop, to surprise her for when she got home after her hard last day on her project. Smug at her thoughtfulness she returned to her cushy bedroom. Swathed with fur, fans and clutter – she loved it. Flopping on the bed she picked up her laptop and began typing, perhaps a little too hardly, as a creative idea zipped its way inside her head….
Sunday, 6 June 2010
My Competition Entry
Cannot be bothered posting the first part of it, I didn't write it after all so it don't really matter. This is my bit. (Basically a girl called Lucille is in her cabin when the boat she's on in caught in a storm and a hole is created in the wall then this bit happens)
The ship rocked and rolled beneath her and she watched the view of the sea through the hole in the wall. The sky was grey above her, with huge clouds bucketing down rain that sprayed her. The sun was setting in the distance, setting the bottom of the clouds on fire. She gasped as the ship tilted further and further in the exact direction she wanted to avoid. She felt her steady seat on the floor begin to give way. Her sweet silky dress felt like a mistake as it gave her no grip. He fingers scrabbled at the floorboards, bloodying the tips as her nails broke against the rough wood. She screamed as she felt her toes hit the remaining wood underneath the hole. It buckled against her oncoming weight and she prayed one last time that it held.
Seconds that felt like hours passed, the wood was firm against her feet, the boat still tilted further. She felt a glimmer of hope; if she could push against the board she could reach the bed that was firmly attached to the wall and pull herself away from the danger zone of the weakened wall. Gradually she began to extend her arms in front of her, lying face down on the floor. Her fingers brushed the bedpost and she gritted her teeth. With one last push, she practically jumped off the wall.
Then it broke. She screamed as she felt herself hurtle backwards off the boat. Briefly she caught a glimpse of the boat, tilted on its side against a huge wave, the crew attached to the boat with thick ropes around their waists. Falling, she wondered what drowning felt like – but only briefly. The water slammed into her back, breaking her weak spine. She knew she should have felt pain but none came, only numbness. The water crept up behind her ears, flooding them and muffling the noise. Salt water reached her nose and mouth and she gasped at the burning cold that make her skin contract and hurt. At the shock her eyes shot open but then began to burn against the salt so she shut them quickly, the damage already done, grating pain made her want to rub her eyes but she found that the muscles in her arms wouldn’t obey her.
The breath that she was holding on to for her life escaped her lips, creating perfectly formed spheres that drifted away from her like a soul leaving a dying man. She took a tentative breath and began to choke on the salt water that flooded her lungs, causing her to inhale more of the cold hurt. The pain began to fade and her breaths faded into stillness, a complete ecstasy washing over her. Death crept upon her disguised deceptively as extreme happiness. It curled its long fingers around her heart, crushing the weak beats with a morbid chuckle.
“Another child.” Death said, chuckling to herself. She was pleased with her work; the storm she had conducted was truly a beauty to behold. The rumble of thunder over the clouds was her roar of laughter at taking a strong heart of a spoiled girl. She felt the squirming life between her fingers and placed it in the stream of souls that floated around the nowhere. Death herself took no form, just a power that could chill the hearts of her victims and paralyse those who took her fancy. She stretched herself and felt a wash of boredom. Her hunger for new additions to her prized collection of souls never ended and with a passion for drama she began to conduct another theatrical performance that ultimately lead to the most impressive of all endings: a meeting with Death.
The ship rocked and rolled beneath her and she watched the view of the sea through the hole in the wall. The sky was grey above her, with huge clouds bucketing down rain that sprayed her. The sun was setting in the distance, setting the bottom of the clouds on fire. She gasped as the ship tilted further and further in the exact direction she wanted to avoid. She felt her steady seat on the floor begin to give way. Her sweet silky dress felt like a mistake as it gave her no grip. He fingers scrabbled at the floorboards, bloodying the tips as her nails broke against the rough wood. She screamed as she felt her toes hit the remaining wood underneath the hole. It buckled against her oncoming weight and she prayed one last time that it held.
Seconds that felt like hours passed, the wood was firm against her feet, the boat still tilted further. She felt a glimmer of hope; if she could push against the board she could reach the bed that was firmly attached to the wall and pull herself away from the danger zone of the weakened wall. Gradually she began to extend her arms in front of her, lying face down on the floor. Her fingers brushed the bedpost and she gritted her teeth. With one last push, she practically jumped off the wall.
Then it broke. She screamed as she felt herself hurtle backwards off the boat. Briefly she caught a glimpse of the boat, tilted on its side against a huge wave, the crew attached to the boat with thick ropes around their waists. Falling, she wondered what drowning felt like – but only briefly. The water slammed into her back, breaking her weak spine. She knew she should have felt pain but none came, only numbness. The water crept up behind her ears, flooding them and muffling the noise. Salt water reached her nose and mouth and she gasped at the burning cold that make her skin contract and hurt. At the shock her eyes shot open but then began to burn against the salt so she shut them quickly, the damage already done, grating pain made her want to rub her eyes but she found that the muscles in her arms wouldn’t obey her.
The breath that she was holding on to for her life escaped her lips, creating perfectly formed spheres that drifted away from her like a soul leaving a dying man. She took a tentative breath and began to choke on the salt water that flooded her lungs, causing her to inhale more of the cold hurt. The pain began to fade and her breaths faded into stillness, a complete ecstasy washing over her. Death crept upon her disguised deceptively as extreme happiness. It curled its long fingers around her heart, crushing the weak beats with a morbid chuckle.
“Another child.” Death said, chuckling to herself. She was pleased with her work; the storm she had conducted was truly a beauty to behold. The rumble of thunder over the clouds was her roar of laughter at taking a strong heart of a spoiled girl. She felt the squirming life between her fingers and placed it in the stream of souls that floated around the nowhere. Death herself took no form, just a power that could chill the hearts of her victims and paralyse those who took her fancy. She stretched herself and felt a wash of boredom. Her hunger for new additions to her prized collection of souls never ended and with a passion for drama she began to conduct another theatrical performance that ultimately lead to the most impressive of all endings: a meeting with Death.
Saturday, 5 June 2010
My Day - Episode Twenty Eight
Sat down ready to tell you all about my wonderful day filled with gifts and love.
Then I realised I cannot be arsed.
Goodnight!
Then I realised I cannot be arsed.
Goodnight!
Friday, 4 June 2010
Songs of the moment
I wanna have your babies - Natasha Bedingfield
The Bad Touch - Bloodhound gang
Fireflies - Owl City
Break the Ice - Britney Spears
The Bad Touch - Bloodhound gang
Fireflies - Owl City
Break the Ice - Britney Spears
Therapy
Lots of people might admit that they would benefit from therapy.
WELL IT'S YOUR LUCKY DAY!
Cosmopolitain July Issue now says that the best way to keep your emotions, goals and life under control is... to keep a diary! Even if it's just for bitching or private celebrations of your awesome grades you can't boast about publicly. A diary is the best friend and the best listener. You can read back your depressed entries and realise what went wrong and how to deal with it next time, you can write notes to your future self when you're happy to remind you that you are awesome! I love it. I can write secrets and then censor them with extra paper labelled "Super private!" so I feel even more mischievious. You can keep a secret and tell it at the same time. You can make lists about good and bad things about things and make decisions wisely. You can doodle and then interpret them later. You can note an amazing song that made you feel good so when you read it back you can listen again and re-feel every precious emotion of that time!!
Okay, so it might not be for everyone. But I love my diary and it's been the best commitment of my life. Now you will excuse me, I have a pen to find...
WELL IT'S YOUR LUCKY DAY!
Cosmopolitain July Issue now says that the best way to keep your emotions, goals and life under control is... to keep a diary! Even if it's just for bitching or private celebrations of your awesome grades you can't boast about publicly. A diary is the best friend and the best listener. You can read back your depressed entries and realise what went wrong and how to deal with it next time, you can write notes to your future self when you're happy to remind you that you are awesome! I love it. I can write secrets and then censor them with extra paper labelled "Super private!" so I feel even more mischievious. You can keep a secret and tell it at the same time. You can make lists about good and bad things about things and make decisions wisely. You can doodle and then interpret them later. You can note an amazing song that made you feel good so when you read it back you can listen again and re-feel every precious emotion of that time!!
Okay, so it might not be for everyone. But I love my diary and it's been the best commitment of my life. Now you will excuse me, I have a pen to find...
Thursday, 3 June 2010
Revelations
Okay, I will admit I was not totally honest with you over the past few days. I wasn't lying, I just didn't tell y'all what's been going on. XD
Well, recently I've filled my hours with revision, sitting in the sun, eating oreogasms and wondering about life. And I have come to one solid conclusion. I really like my life just how it is. I don't want a new partner, I don't want a new school, I wouldn't accept different friends and I love my family just as the nutjobs they are.
OH MY GOD
THERE ARE HANDS GRABBING ON TO THE FENCE AND CHILDREN LOOKING OVER. IT'S THE MEXICAN CHILD.
And he has back up. O.O
"I am trying to be philosophical here!!"
"AIII AIIIIIII"
Back to reality. I've been feeling stuck in reverie, self reflecting and pits of swirling self-analysis and it's really bugging me. I feel like a horrible person when I say things but can't stop them coming out, I'm slacking on revision though I want amazing grades. Urgh. I'm happy with everything in life except BUG ON MY ARM...except me. :(
Cheer me up buttercup?
Well, recently I've filled my hours with revision, sitting in the sun, eating oreogasms and wondering about life. And I have come to one solid conclusion. I really like my life just how it is. I don't want a new partner, I don't want a new school, I wouldn't accept different friends and I love my family just as the nutjobs they are.
OH MY GOD
THERE ARE HANDS GRABBING ON TO THE FENCE AND CHILDREN LOOKING OVER. IT'S THE MEXICAN CHILD.
And he has back up. O.O
"I am trying to be philosophical here!!"
"AIII AIIIIIII"
Back to reality. I've been feeling stuck in reverie, self reflecting and pits of swirling self-analysis and it's really bugging me. I feel like a horrible person when I say things but can't stop them coming out, I'm slacking on revision though I want amazing grades. Urgh. I'm happy with everything in life except BUG ON MY ARM...except me. :(
Cheer me up buttercup?
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