Funny facts

Said in a welsh accent.

78. One in six mobile phones in Britain is contaminated with poo.

 

Sweet unrest

Where do I begin

WELL!

Christmas has been amazing!!!

I feel happy and excited and WOOHOO and have so much energy in my head I will really have to run it off at some point. Not with my arms flinging about though.

There's just been lots of nice conversations and time to not think because there hasn't really been much to think about as I know now. FINALLY!!!

I'm going to do the the better thing and not write any of my frustrations out because it wouldn't be fair, and I'm also very bored of reading my frustrations and hearing the same thing over and over about myself, from myself. I'm just going to keep following my instincts as they seem to be the best thing for me.

I LOVE MY INSTINCTS!!!

I've always invented a drink, a 'jen and tonic' as mum loved these and poured them in not so quite measured standards... So they always tasted good :P

Tomorrow I can't wait to take a trip to Somerset to see some of my friends and to laugh a lot. I think that's what has been the best thing this holiday-I have laughed A LOT and now my teeth ache and face hurts in a very good way. I have missed pure laughter so much. SO SO SO SO much. There's been a lot of jeffs this year and it's finally over. Of course they are ALL still pretty fresh in my mind but now i'm ready to look back on them and go arghhh, goodbye-with a smiley face.

It feels so good to be me, and know what to do with me, at last!!! And I think it all started properly from Tuesday 20th December (if you all really needed an exact proper moment!) HA!

I will write soon!

A lot of many many good things to write

Kiss me

independence is a weird, ...

why would anyone wait until everything on their checklist is complete before letting anyone else in?...

Fuck that, I want people!!! I don't' want to feel the accomplished of self, my accomplished of self isn't self unless there is you!

 if we don't let people in along the way then what do we have, ourselves? There always is ourselves but then there isn't always other people. Screw the self yet know the self. I want my other people, at last.

Another thought

When I see families stay together for broken legs, for cancer, for any illness. And then I think of people who aren't together because of certain dreams, because of certain desires and certain ways of self. Perhaps that is just love too. To let them be. Let them go, just because.

Well I have to write don't I!

Whether I have had too much blue cheese, or have had many tonic based subtances. Either way I should write more with my hands then with my head.

I can't fucking wait for 2012. I really can't. I mean, most people say "omg next year is going to be soooo amazing" and then it turns out to be shit. I was that person last year. So many adventures and so many memories and things to come. To be fair, all the amazingness still happened for me, It was just through a lot of stress!

I'm trying to write beyond the ways that we all have seen already. I think, well isn't that the thing about life, the surprise? Or as you get more aware, the essence of surprise-or lack of it. It's hard to try and describe that in the most un-depressing way, though when you just come to that point when most of your desires in life are those that are un-purchasable. I may as well give up now and just literally write the ramblings of my brain. Literally, yes, I said it. You know when you read about celebrities (urgh I hate that whole concept) and those that take drugs and write songs and e.t.c e.t.c. about getting the right pathway. Well perhaps they get to that stage to at least reveal what they are really thinking. Feeling. at least without the protection side.

I think i've become one of those people that just stares and laughs and carries on. I can't tell whether that's worse or better. At the end of the day all that feeling is just fear. A big suppressed fear amongst all the lovely emotions as well.

I see Kylie minogue sing and I think I wonder whether she's had the 'all clear' this year. Whether she has had her mamogram and the doctor has said "that's ok, don't worry about dying for another 6 months"-because that is what cancer is all about. Death. Dying. Very very slowly. Rotting almost.

As for me and my brother; well I have to take my brother's word from him saying he's simple and not complicated and that he doesn't worry about something until he needs too. Unlike me, well, being a mother instead of a sister is something I'm not quite prepared for. And admittedly I do consider If I took off anywhere, where would my brother end up. He's not the most average 20 year old you would ever meet. I want a home, I want a house. I just want love. You watch films like 'Love Actually' and those BBC dramas made about fairytales and Doctor who stories. You see the hope. The fantastic kind of hope I know some people have missed. You know who you are you fricking jeff-don't think I haven't thought about you today because I have! Ok I'm snacking through chocolate coins, pyjamas and Dawn French on tv with cornish pasty hearts. Michael gorgeous Buble and cats skirting around my feet. I know we weren't right. No Way!! No chance! As If!

I think that's the best part of today. Finally accepting things as they are. Finally looking at things at if it weren't now It would have been some time later today. For me and my bro and everybody else, it's just been something too soon. Though now is some time to gander on. For me and my bro. Some time to look at things for how they are and look at them for what we can make them.

I don't really know what else to say. I'm just quite excited to get on with things. Ok, I might have just fallen in love with Michael Buble and his face and voice...

Distractions over. What I know is I have a lot of love, there is love out there and I want to give it. There are people out there that I want to give it to and I can't wait to show it.

Have a nice bloody good Christmas everyone one. If you don't, I'm sorry. But just believe. I still have that stupid magic giddy feeling on Christmas day over everything. I still even get that on brithdays when my hands feel like glitter and my eyes are like stalks. I hope you enjoy your day somehow, even if it's within cake x

p.s please tell me about your day too

A ladybird year

The mum stuff has always had a hold. I get sad, I feel sad, I be sad, I then be around people to replace the loss and bring back hope. With him, it's now anger, and dissapointment in myself. Why did I let myself get so caught up over one person-what an idiot. So much of my happiness was based on him and false hope and hopeless efforts into something which would never ever have been a way to achieve. It was like filling a empty cardboard box and it never got full. Finally I feel done with that limpy limb and love has changed into something else.

I really really need to spend the next couple of days going with my instincts. The most important thing to do is think about mum and have good memories, to try and not be overwhelmed by sadness but full of lovely nice thoughts with all of my family.

And then him. He needs to get out of my head, because all i'm feeling right now is annoyance and why and how could you and how could I and what idiots we are. I don't want to spend my days wallowing over you, not on what I've lost because there was nothing to loose as you have always been as you are, but now it's over what anger and disappointment I feel towards certain views and attitudes of dead ends and lonely life.

My life now is looking on. I have new opportunities in front of me which I have to take, I want to take and share with other people. I should not think of what ifs and waiting for something else. I make my something else, now. My aim to rid the fear and to feel what I know, but what I just now need to believe.

There she goes

Live with me

Liminality

'Liminality (from the Latin word līmen, meaning "a threshold"^[1]) is a psychological, neurological, or metaphysical subjective state, conscious or unconscious, of being on the "threshold" of or between two different existential planes, as defined in neurological psychology (a "liminal state") and in the anthropological theories of ritual by such writers as Arnold van Gennep and Victor Turner.^[2]

As developed by van Gennep (and later Turner), the term is used to “refer to in-between situations and conditions that are characterized by the dislocation of established structures, the reversal of hierarchies, and uncertainty regarding the continuity of tradition and future outcomes”.^[3] Although initially developed as a means to analyze the middle stage in ritual passages, it is “now considered by some to be a master concept in the social and political sciences writ large”.^[4] In this sense, it is very useful when studying “events or situations that involve the dissolution of order, but which are also formative of institutions and structures.”^[5]

The term has passed into broad popular usage, and arguably at least 'the very wide extension of the notion of liminality had the unfortunate consequence of undermining its initial power'.^[6] As an anthropological concept, liminality can be applied to “a variety of concrete problems of transformation in the historical, social, and political world”.^[7] It is particularly useful as a tool for analyzing both contemporary events and problems, and for analyzing and comparing various historical periods.^[8]'

'Step away from the ledge and let yourself fall into the world.'

Cary Tennis I have missed you.

'You have touched on something fundamental. In a dream, it might be something like this: You and I are making our way along a narrow ledge on an enormous sandstone wall high above the city, feeling our way, suspended above the world, thinking if we keep going we will eventually storm the castle. Now we see we will never get over the wall. The ledge does not spiral up; we will always come back to where we were. The only thing to do is to let go and fall backward into the world, where we wake up.

That is the only way. Step away from the ledge and let yourself fall into the world.'

Sticky toffee pudding

Christmas lunch was great yesterday, afriad I didn't take any pictures-too hungry to even wait!

The winner though, was of course the sticky toffee pudding. I've just realised it came with toffee sauce, even though the menu said custard. HA!! Either way, dessert was the blimmin best and I had a wonderful time with everybody. So THANK YOU :D

One more day until one of the best coach trips ever. MMMMMMMMMmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm :)

I've seen all good people

Will it go amis

I've got some opportunities to take before they disappear, forever.

It's stuff like that which makes it very easy, when it comes to choice.

Constants are changing

I'm surprised

I need to wake up...

Or I have woken up. I can't quite tell.

The best part is being in an atmosphere and everything seeming like slow motion. You see, you seek, you savor. That's the most awakening part. Everyone around you, and then there's you. There's you, there's life, and there's your choice.

I've had one of the best evenings since, I don't know when.

It wasn't the food. It wasn't the music. It wasn't the drinks, the profession, the status, the anything. It was the people and the words. Clearer then ever, amongst the sadness, I still wanted to get up and make a move. I don't want to disappear, now.

I finally got the confidence boost i've needed for quite some time now. I finally got a moment in believing in myself, I heard some words which sounded familiar and I couldn't help but think 'that's where they were...'

I feel so ready. I feel like I have a cube and I'm ready to build, there seems to be some courage which I have in my hands and I know what to do with it. I can't believe I lost my self believe, that's what has been missing all along. If there is no confidence, no certainty-then what do you have? How can anyone go on if there is no believe, no knowing.

Plans finally feel ok, and moving on from particular events now is the right thing to do. Before they were moments clinging onto what was known instead of what if or what could. Now it's about what now. What is now, what do I have and what is there... It kind of makes me excited-I remember that energy I had earlier this year. It sounds bizarre, and even if it takes a few ramblings to point it out-well it's those words which tell me what everybody needs to hear. What your doing is right. As if I ever had doubt in what I do, there would be no worth in it at all.

I need to kick people in the arse, that's all I can say. To me those words don't feel stupid; with everything that has happened, will happen, I think the worst thing now could be that no-one will listen and life could become a blind inhibition deaf to self. We cut ourselves off, not anybody else. Most of the time we don't know that though; if we didn't have people we wouldn't have ourselves. There would only be I.

I'm excited about my choices now and once the distraction part becomes settled...once I make the distraction part SETTLED... I WILL MAKE THE DISTRACTION PART SETTLE, then I am the fricking wonder

Christmas lunch

Today is the Christmas lunch and I'm very excited. Work finishes at 12 and then we get to chill in the afternoon with everyone, nice food and drink. :)

Usually when I tell people about my blog, I always say it's not like I'm writing on there what I've eaten for breakfast; so today I'm going to tell you what I'm going to eat for lunch! :P

Wild game and wood pigeon terrine with cornichons and toastSlow roasted Gressingham Duck with cabbage, prune and baconSticky toffee pudding and custard

 

Talk about yum. I hope!

Two more days until I get to be with my family :D

Go

Satisfaction

I can't sleep.

Lying in darkness for two hours when earlier I could have fallen asleep at 5pm.

I know it's not that late, but when work is at 7am I try to get a early night. Seems forever possible to have a solid nights sleep-whether it's interrupted with different dreams or lying awake for ages with a headache.

Again, I'm kept awake thinking about mum, and love. I think about stress, and living, the hypocrisy of my nature-my attitude kept in. I know exactly how I want to live, yet I'm the one who restricts myself the whole time. I'm the one giving myself the headache-no-one else. We don't choose to feel awful, but we choose from our learned responses how to react to it all. I need to learn more, asap.

The thoughts at the front of my mind today, tonight, keeping me awake is the notion of love and it being swept away. I always think of mum. Her life. Mum had the most pain in the arse 12 years of her last years. Suicide. Single parent. Alcoholic father. The dating scene, 'hollie am I going to be lonely forever?...' cancer.

Mum was lonely for quite sometime, until she met someone else. For 6 years, most kept at long distance was a love I had never seen before. A love of banter, a love of friends, a love of food and wine and going out for casino breakfast. A love for music and forever sounds. A companionship she never really wanted to throw away. I think of her moaning; her quivels and drivels over matters too virtual to put into context. In all the anxiety, it was for love. It was 6 years of arghhhblahhhhurghhhahhhmmm which kept them together.

Echoing in my head are the last two years. The climb for their independence, in a house together. 'The tv is too loud, i want to go to sleep, that room was left untidy'. Who the fuck cares-they were together, finally! Four years of long distance and then two years living but not in the ideal home, finally they got their own place, together. Mum had that house for a year before she died.

I think of love and I think of death. I think about me moaning and bitching and being grumpy and being too scared to feel and go for what I want. Just in case, something bad happens. It feels like a slow death already. Or perhaps a fast one if cancer is looming. I like to see things laid out on my hands like a picture from memory and drawn on squiggling about with sway. I think of breeze and sounds, sitting on my own. These are the times when you get the perspective. We don't sleep for a reason-there's something going on.

Mum finally had what she wanted, she had it for a year. That's my most distressing thought tonight. I think of me and my health risks just in case I get what she had and I think of future tests. I have seen her go through it and worst of all i've seen her live frustrated in-between. It sounds harsh to say, but there were times amongst the cancer free days after it all happened the first time, when mum would get so wound up about something so silly, I couldn't understand her rage. It clicks now though, as we all strive for perfect. Why would we want to give up anything else for anything if it affects our perfect? Or if it means more risk? We become strangely selfish because of this. Selfless selfishness. Live in squalor or live in choice? Though the alternative should be the unconditional too, just because of love. There are moments in my life where I have no desire for myself because the other person feels like that's all that matters, and then I'm happy too because of them just being in my life! I don't quite know whether that's self neglection, or just that strive for at least someone else to feel great because you know too well yourself what it's like when things are shit. Really shit.

It scares the shit out of me that I have moments now, where I'm not making the most of. The most annoying part is I know I have to take time to 'chill', which means time to sleep or stay in my room and most of the time just stare, just to try and feel normal again. It's like your head is a puzzle and the only thing you can find to make it fit together is you. That's all there is and no-one can do it for you. It's why I think of my hands, I think of plain paper (never white, a more neutral colour) and I think what there is in my life. I think of what makes me want to get up in the morning, I also think of times too scary one would just freeze in fright.

I see what I have and I see what I have lost. And so now I see what I want to build. I also see a process too. Getting upset and actually letting out the pain seems to be something I'm getting better at now, wet face tired eyes and headache sure is a change. From being completely numb and stark. It's all still too loud in the silence, but someday we will get there.

I don't want to live a life in fear, I want to live a life in know. Knowing and feeling and going with my instincts, I know what my instincts are and it is very hard when your instincts aren't quite met with what your desires entail.. It's like in that way I feel about people who have died. I have to live for mum; I live for the years she didn't have, and I live for the years I am lucky to have now.

Always shuffle your ipod

The next song which came on was Nirvana, 'Rape me'.

Only kidding, it was 'Come as you are'.

Twisted limbs

Dancing is yes. Throw it OUT!

Sweet disposition

I have to write before these words stop, absorb...

It's so nice to sit and feel like 'ahhhhh' :) a bit weightless you could say.

Most parts of the day have felt a lot like something sharp jarring into my face. Some sort of disease, illness or feeling sick twisted blerghh yucky feeling that throws you back and think 'what the fuck was that'. Right now, I know what the fuck that was, and it was death.

A change is always a death. It's also a birth as well. We get anxious over change. Anticipate. Nervous. What will life be and how and when and what why who blabbering meaningless words all insignificant drivel we process until everything has happened, and process the 'following' to accept for the future.

Last night I dreamt about mum, being alive. She was alive in a 'hospital' laying place where those who suffer from illness go to chill and be before they die. The difference in this dream was that mum had lingered to that place, where as in real life mum had most recently rocked out to a great people party and celebrated her 49th year of life. It was the best I had ever seen her, all year.

Those thoughts make it hard to believe, and accept, which when you have a dream about your sick mum who is alive, then dead, then not quite dead and is more so seeming half asleep in a dream (probably relating to her last moments on a oxygen machine where every fake breath wasn't actually her coming awake but was really her body pumping out the remaining air), and then actually die...again in a dream!... It's gross. But it was real (oxygen support). And as weird and strange as dreams are when they involve the dead-they have become strangely comforting.

Mum was meant to die. We all are of course, don't get me wrong I'm not religious (perhaps you could say more spiritual), but over the last four months from the exact date I knew mum was really really dying, to last night, I know it was her turn. I don't want to think what if, or how come, or feel robbed anymore. I feel like she knew she was meant to die. In every one of my dreams involving mum and death, mum of all people is the most relaxed about it. Walking to work has seemed empty, walking through holding back tears and biting my tongue so no sea comes out has probably been the easiest part. The hard part is knowing she isn't there, and trying to bring her back in any way possible.

I think mum knew she was meant to die because she always seemed so calm throughout it all. I know she hated it too, who would want to die slowly and realise everything you will leave behind is moving on and you won't get to see it... whether it's these dreams I keep having, or whether it's just knowing mum I know that when she knew she couldn't change anything, she wouldn't fight against it.

The most real mum has seemed to me lately is in these dreams. Her voice, her movements, her calm. I feel like I said goodbye to mum more than twice because of these dreams. You can say goodbye to a body, but a person-you can't put any worth on. I had the most vivid dream the night I knew my mum had died, before I even got to the hospital the next day (before we knew there was no chance of her surviving).

I was rushing to get to a train. I remember the train being packed, and full, and once it came to a halt I was struggling to get out of the train and up to the steps. It felt almost like titanic when they start closing the gateways for those stuck below and all they do is look up at the guards who won't let them out. Some how, I managed to get through all the people, on the stairs, up to wherever it were. There was a chase. Wherever it were was the most clear dark blue space, with the most bright clear lights. It wasn't cold, it felt normal. There was a white ageing building to my left, tarmac paved floor, green surroundings to my right and structured slopes and stepways. Infront, was mum and Brian. He on left and her on right. He was dressed in his suit and mum in her wedding dress. She looked beautiful, and to her side was a tall metal stand carrying a drip. I remember walking over to them and just feeling really there with them, I just knew. I felt like I knew everything without words needing to be said. As I write I know how it was just to hug mum, how she felt, how she hugged me...this stupid linger hug but then became a squeeze. She always squeezed through her pain, she stretched for me. Mum always held me and pushed me away. She always knew things were tough. I remember walking more over to my left, we made our way to the paved slope. Grass hugged the edge and we took a slow walk up the hill, further more into the lights held above us pointing to the way. The next part happened very quickly as all in a moment myself and mum were both on a small milk truck sized vehicle, holding on the sides as we stood opposite each other. She was still in her dress, looking her best the last I saw her.  As the vehicle traveled slow we passed green on either side and buildings. I looked all around calm and back at mum. She had changed and was now wearing a mask, a clear plastic mask covering her entire face. I remember saying I loved her, and that she had to go somewhere, and that I couldn't go with her. I remember her saying she loved me, and that she knew. She nodded. As we grew near, the slope began to curve right, down wrapping around into a place I could not see. I remember hugging mum, kissing her on the cheek and saying I have to go now, I can't go there with you. She shook her head and said I know. We held a gaze, all in the eyes-that look of seeing through someone and into them. Really looking at them with no words what so ever. Whether I was holding her hand, or holding her goodbye, I then lept off the vehicle and looked back at mum. Her glance, continued and stayed with mine as the cart curved around the bend and went into 'that place'. She knew the whole time, that in that dream, that was her time.

How can you replace something that has been in your life for so long, since forever, since you have been born? You can't. But you have to let people be there for you, they have to be right for you as you let them be them.

I don't know how to word anything else right now accept that it all just makes sense. It all just makes sense. Amongst everything that has happened this year to me it's when people go to waste which has a startling misbehavior. For me, lines are now lines instead of bumps and calm really is calm with excitement. Why do we always go by 'what ifs' instead of live for now? There is no certainty that anything is going to be the same as you left it. I know by my facts and If you feel so much just don't postpone it, some instincts are stronger than others.

And for once this evening I've been able to cry. In that strange way, everything feels alright again and I can finally accept things for what they are. And I'm ok with that.

R.I.P

"The only position that leaves me with no cognitive dissonance is atheism. It is not a creed. Death is certain, replacing both the siren-song of Paradise and the dread of Hell. Life on this earth, with all its mystery and beauty and pain, is then to be lived far more intensely: we stumble and get up, we are sad, confident, insecure, feel loneliness and joy and love. There is nothing more; but I want nothing more." Christopher Hitchens, 2007

Mug

Herbal, tea, coffee-whatever. Now that is love in a mug

The journey seems to be

To accept that we are all alone, and to accept that we have to let others in as well, and reach out to them.

Feel

It's amazing what you feel for one person, and how much it makes you want to puke

Face

What's the point in making yourself look good if the person you want to see it, isn't here. There's no reward in it being for yourself.

I'm gonna have to pick myself up, again.






If this were to be tagged on twitter, it would be #stopdoingthistoyourselfidiot

Moob

I've done everything

Tonight I bit off Santa's head.

A chocolate Santa of course, bought by moi. How sad. Or fulfilling, I haven't decided. All I know is i'm full from a dinner I shouldn't have bought because I can't afford it this month, it being Christmas an' alllll.

'Tones of people make the choice to be alone and they are perfectly happy'

Yes and no. Sometimes I don't even know why I'm writing. I've done everything, and it's over. Rejection is hard, really hard. I'm so glad it's friday.

Who buys happiness? We all do...

Abort mental health

I think there's too much worry about the consequences of such medical procedures, when it comes to choosing whether you want them or not.

Abortion is a choice. I'm very glad this article points out how the woman may feel if she kept the baby. The strain of abortion, panic perhaps of 'shit I don't want to go through that again'. Fear of pregnancy again, repeating pregnancy tests months onwards even though there is no need to, loosing respect for your body. It's better then having a child hanging on your arm which you didn't want in the first place.

'Usually, a woman's risk of suffering common disorders such as anxiety or depression would be around 11-12%. But the researchers said this rate was around three times higher in women with unwanted pregnancies.'

I'm sure these establishments are looking out more so for those women who aren't sure whether they want abortions or not, those perhaps more so in the age range it seems now in society when people have kids these days. People want to wait for children, I think anti-abortion groups need to accept that. Either way, having an abortion must be really annoying to go through, it's just an extra stress and something else you have to sort out. Why keep anything if you don't want it, you wouldn't do that with a piece of furniture in your room?!

Perhaps the anti establishments aren't focusing enough on the relief women feel once they have completed the medical procedure. I don't think they consider the effects unwanted pregnancy has on the couples relationship either. This article misses the point, any change creates stress, an extra something to adapt to.

'We all recognise abortion is a very sensitive and emotive topic. Our aim was not to debate the moral and ethical issues, but to focus on the available scientific evidence."

The scope of the review excluded reactions such as guilt, shame and regret - although these were considered important - and also assessments of mental state within 90 days of an abortion.'

So the study is biased? Consider the shame, guilt and regret if you kept a baby. The possibilities here, are endless. Why pick one when you could pick another?

'Sophie Corlett, director of external relations at the mental health charity Mind, said: "It is important that medical professionals are given the correct information to provide support for all women, but particularly those with a pre-existing history of mental health problems.
"This study makes it absolutely clear that this group is at the greatest risk of developing post-pregnancy mental health problems and should be given extra support in light of this."'

I could have told you that, any extra stress for anybody suffering from any stress related issue is going to react badly to more change. 

"What is clear is that having an unwanted pregnancy has implications for people's mental health and wellbeing."

BECAUSE IT IS A CHANGE!! Idiots, I mean of course there won't be some chemical related womb related sperm blood related impact from abortion. It's the fact you feel shit about having to go through that, regardless. If you feel shit, your brain feels shit, and you aren't happy. Simple. Sometimes I wonder why there are articles wasted like this. (i'm sure i'm a hypocrite in saying that) I just there is better ways in telling the world stories about sensitive topics. Anything which affects your health, of course you won't feel great about it. Any medical procedure is a risk. A blood bath coming from your vagina, not nice! Shouldn't there be an article telling us more about that, and how we are bound to feel awful, whether it's dead fetus bath or a live baby coming out of there-wanted or not wanted. There's pain either way, each experience won't always be pleasant.

Byyyyyeeeeeeeeeeeeee

I look at myself, literally I am looking at a picture of myself at 18 years with these heavy 'what do I care' eyes and all I see is change. Of course there is the obvious change, but the change i'm talking about this time is the spinning plates kind. The kind that balances everything else whilst there is still you.

I listen to songs, I think of journeys; walking to work, sucking necterines hoping I don't puke on the way and that I MUST make it into work for 10am noodle breakfasts...to hear a Ghana voice, to hear clip clop baz and hear about fairies from my angel. There were also messages from a gentlelad of youtube videos I could never access, blog posts and banter building to lunch and dinners. Emails were missing, from mum saying "hello darling how are you today?", because she was too ill to work.  I remember one day I came into work and mum had already emailed me saying good morning. That day felt good, it was like getting my mum back. That piece of my heart has gone, a chunk, I feel like I have lost my hand.

There are parts of me which feel like I can't see anymore, yet I see everything all at the same time. The awareness and blindness juxtaposition. How can you feel like you have so much and so little all at the same time? I've been told to bring people in, but it's so hard when the people you love-die. It's been a tough year. There's no point in denying it and lately i've become quite exhausted again. It's amazing what exercise does to you, endorphins are a beauty.

When I came back from my 35 min run today, I asked myself what did I think about whilst running? I think of him a lot, I pass his street and I think of her being there too. There are shadows of fear still, but at last they are passing, they have to now because I have made that conscious choice. No more, it's just me now.

Loneliness is the most choking part. Because all the while there are all of these thoughts in my head, they don't really come out, out loud. I work, I talk on the surface, I walk home-I blast music, I plan ahead allllll the time. The quickest way to get anything, constant constant constant fix. I enjoy the fix, my pace. I get restless without it. I know something is missing, and that is love. How can you give love when the person you want to love isn't there? You can love yourself, and treat yourself and make yourself feel like everything is ok. I just know I don't want to just share that with myself anymore, is anyone else willing to listen?

My mum had her life in her hands, because she didn't have much of a life left to live. In a way, you could say she had more life than ever as it became very clear how she wanted to live it. Unfortunately mum was forced into a choice, but perhaps all those choices which were blurred before became clearer. All she spoke of, was love. Love for people, love for her friends. Love for her family. Mum would have done anything for anyone. Heart of gold I have heard a lot of people say, and it's so true. My mum was a wonder, her curly hair, her laugh, her confusion and always loosing her keys. The way she never seemed to have socks and would wear flip flops in winter. Her bounce, her wiggle-how she floated in her long black coat. She had so much passion and desire, I can hear her now saying "yeah, so what!" when she wanted to do something and finding the balls to say what she really wanted, perhaps because there was minor confliction behind it. The thing is with mum, she was always right. She knew. She just knew the way, it was always like she could see through things. She through the bullshit (unless it was her bullshit), I suppose we can all do it when we are attached to things. Even so, mum saw through all the bullshit, because she always saw love.

Parents are things you should just never throw away. I don't understand how anyone could turn their back on someone when at the end of the day, there is love. I suppose that is why you turn your back though, because of love. Love for you. I hate the teenage, my parents aren't cool, thing. I'm sure it makes them feel like shit. So helpless. I hate the despair of it all.

I can't cry anymore and I keep getting headaches, it just doesn't feel safe to cry. I mean, would the crying ever stop when you think about what's happened? When you don't have parents who will look after you in that unconditional way parents give? It is never the same. There has to be a balance of trust, and that selfless part of you who lets someone be a parent to you. We take it for granted from parents, in the right way. Enjoy it whilst it's there, it is their job.

I always had a sanctuary. Our home, the welsh one nearer the bridge. I don't feel like there is any now which is probably why I feel so desperate to build one of my own, for me and my brother. It's just us two now. My words sound very unforgiving but our original blood has gone, and everyone else is getting older-they have their own lives. You just get to a point where you know if you want something done, you have to do it yourself. It's just what happens when your closest thing from birth, dies. They die and you become another self. A stronger one because it is tough shit.

The hardest part of spinning plates is change. It's like the weather now, it's really windy and we are all thinking 'what the fuck!'. We aren't used to it, it's always the hardest part. When it snows, everyone freaks out because it isn't the norm in Britain, where as people experience this everyday in other parts of the world and they just get on with it. And so, we have to adapt. We have to fight against pain that change causes. We fight against wishing for what we had, for what we knew and still know-it just seems like we aren't getting there anymore.

Sometimes there's a danger in being too practical. The practical becomes a distraction. When your energy becomes sad energy, you have to do something with it-otherwise what are you going to do, give up? Giving up seems too scary just in case there is that off chance you feel better, you don't want to cause even more problems for yourself if you do get better-and it all becomes a trap. That circle. So I begin to list. When I feel good, what is happening? What do I do, generally what do I do? What makes me excited and happy like I'm on cake or something?...I mean, if I'm not happy with me then nothing seems worth living for.

Mum had her life in her hands, and what did she do with it? She lived. She saw. She went out. She bought what she liked. She had good food. She enjoyed the people she knew. She loved the people she knew, every one of them. And she always laughed and called me a stupid cow over the phone in her wispy voice. Her texts asking where I was every few more train stops I got closer to her. The unfortunate thing is I think I understand mum more now that she's gone, and I wish I could just have one last conversation with her. Because, she was snatched. But, I have to focus on what I do have now. I have an amazing brother, I'm so proud of him I can't even understand how chilled out he is. Simplicity is a gift. I have an amazing step dad and sister, a new home is home because they are there-and of course the dog and cat. I have amazing family nesting down in Dorset. My grandparents are like my new parents, my Nana is one of my best friends. We dance about in her room wearing vests and pants because we can, we make cake loafs, drink lots of tea and read in lamp lit rooms listening to silence. My granpop, my auntie's and uncle's, my cousins and of course the family who aren't my family but will always be my family. It's a wonderful intertwine. I have new people in my life and past people in my life, and I'm so lucky. It's all there for me to make something with and I choose those people. I choose me and those people. You just have to, because that is you. Everyone makes you you, because they are your love. If there is no love, I'm nothing.

There's one other thing I want, but I can't have him...and I accept that now. He's too big a star for my to hold-i'm not that strong! So what can I do, push away or welcome? I have life in my hands so what do I do with it? Well I live it of course, I try and live it through the pain-but I know it will be all worth it. The moment you get to look back and think, ah, should have taken that opportunity, then you know you have screwed up. My choices make my opportunities, they make my stories and they make my words. That is who I am.

SARK

I like stories like this, you just have to make them happen for yourself.

wons

Lemons

I've fallen in love

This week, i've fallen in love, with Kit Kats. Four bar kit kats. Cup of tea and choc. Bliss

I can't hold back anymore

It's takes a tv-show, it takes blindness, it takes love, it takes having nothing, it takes some good news, it takes 'what do I do now'. To choose, and know, and to stop waiting. And knowing.

I have the world to take and to not let it take me. It's my choice to get up and walk, to really walk and be like POW, go get 'em. It's sounds typical I know, but I can't keep listening to beautiful empty lyrics. They are stories of others I find meaning in for myself-I just want to make meaning for myself now instead of waiting for everything else to happen. You have to make it right and make it happen for yourself, and others too.

I know my choice. You know yours, just say it now, out loud. It doesn't take much anymore. I think I have my answer, but I hope it's wrong. If a ball of fire were in my hand right now, I wouldn't let it go.

Steppenwolf

This will be a long post. Below are sections of a book i'm reading and I love these parts.

'My regret for the present day for all the countless hours and days that I lost in mere passivity and that brought me nothing, not even the shocks of awakening. But, thank God, there were exceptions. There were now and then, though rarely, the hours that brought the welcome shock, pulled down the walls and brought me back again from my wanderings to the living heart of the world. Sadly and yet deeply moved, I set myself to recall the last of these experiences. It was at a concert of lovely old music. After two or three notes of the piano the door was opened all of a sudden to the other world. I sped through heaven and saw God at work. I suffered holy pains. I dropped all my defences and was afraid of nothing in the world. I accepted all things and to all things I gave up my heart. It did not last very long, a quarter of an hour perhaps; but it returned to me in a dream at night, and since, through all the barren days, I caught a glimpse of it now and then. Sometimes for a minute or two I saw it clearly, threading my life like a divine and golden track. But nearly always it was blurred in dirt and dust. Then again it gleamed out in golden sparks as though never to be lost again and yet was soon quite lost once more...

How can I fail to be a lone wolf, and an uncouth hermit, as I did not share one of its aims nor understand one of its pleasures? I cannot remain for long in either theatre or movie. I can scarcely read a paper, seldom a modern book. I cannot understand what pleasure and joys they are that drive people to the overcrowded railways and hotels, into the packed cafes with the suffocating and obtrusive music, to the bars and variety entertainments, to world exhibitions, to the Corsos. I cannot understand nor share these joys, though they are within my reach, for which thousands of others strive. On the other hand, what happens to me in my rare hours of joy, what for me is bliss and life and ecstasy and exaltation, the world in general seeks at most in works of fiction; in life it finds it absurd. And in fact, if the world is right, if this music of the cafes, these mass-enjoyments and these Americanised men who are pleased with so little are right, then I am wrong, I am crazy. I am truth the Steppenwolf that I often call myself; that beast astray who finds neither home nor joy nor nourishment in a world that is strange and incomprehensible to him...

In this connexion one thing more must be said. There are a good many people of the same kind as Harry. Particularly many artists are of his kind. These persons all have two souls, two beings within them. There is God and the devil in them; the mother's blood and the father's; the capacity for happiness and the capacity for suffering; and in just such state of enmity and entanglement were the wolf and man in Harry. And these men, for whom life has no repose, live at times in their rare moments of happiness with such strength and indescribable beauty, the spray of there moment's happiness is flung so high and dazzlingly over the wide sea of suffering, that the light of it, spreading its radiance, touches others too with its enchantment. Thus, like a precious, fleeting foam over the sea of suffering arise all those works of art, in which a single individual lifts himself for an hour so high above his personal destiny that his happiness shines like a star and appears to all who see it as something eternal and as their own dream of happiness. All these men, whatever their deeds and work may be, have really no life; that is to say, their lives are non-existent and have no form. They are no heroes, artists or thinkers in the same way that other men are judges, doctors, shoemakers, or schoolmasters. Their life consists of a perpetual tide, unhappy and torn with pain, terrible and meaningless, unless one is ready to see its meaning in just those rare experiences, acts, thoughts and works that shine out above the chaos of such a life...

Men if every kind have their characteristics, their aspects, their virtues and vices and their deadly sins. It was part of the Steppenwolf's aspects that he was a night prowler. The morning was a bad time of the day for him. He feared it and it never brought him and good. On no morning of his life has he ever been in good spirits nor done any good before midday, nor ever had others. By degrees during the afternoon he warmed and became alive, and only towards evening, on his good days, was he productive, active and sometimes, aglow with joy. With this was bound up his need for loneliness and independence. There was never a man with a deeper and more passionate craving for independence than he... 

Only through his virtue, he was bound the closer to his destiny of suffering. It happened to him as it does to all; what he strove for with the deepest and stubbornest instinct of his being fell to his lot, but more than is good for men. In the beginning his dream and his happiness, in the end it was his bitter fate. The man of power is ruined by power, the man of money by money, the submissive man by subservience, the pleasure seeker by pleasure. He achieved his aim. He was ever independant. He took orders from no man and ordered his ways to suit no man. Independently and alone, he decided what to do and leave undone. For every strong man attains to that which a genuine impulse bids him seek. But in the midst of the freedom was a death that he stood alone. The world in an uncanny fashion left him in peace. Other men concerned him no longer. He was not ever concerned about himself. He began to suffocate slowly in the more and more rarefied atmosphere of remoteness and solitude. For not it was his wish no longer, nor his aim, to be alone and independent, but rather his lot and his sentence. The magic was had been fulfilled and could not be cancelled and it was no good now to open his arms with longing and goodwill to welcome the bounds of society. People left him alone now. It was not, however, that he was an object of hatred and repugnance. On the contrary, he had many friends. A great many people liked him. But it was no more than sympathy and friendliness. He received invitations, presents , pleasant letters; but no more. No one came near to him. There was no link left, and no one could have had any part in his life even had any one wished it. For the air of lonely men surrounded him now, a still atmosphere in which the world around him slipped away, leaving him incapable of relationship, an atmosphere against which neither will nor longing availed. This was one of the significant earmarks of his life...

Finally at the age of forty seven of thereabouts, a happy, but not harmless, idea came to him from which he often derived some amusement. He appointed his fiftieth birthday as the day on which he might allow himself to take his own life....

To make all of this come true, or perhaps to be able at last to dare the leap into the unknown, a Steppenwolf must once have a good look at himself. He must look deeply into the chaos of his own soul and plumb its depths. The riddle of his existence would then be revealed to him at once in all its changelessness and it would be impossible for him ever after to escape first from hell of the flesh to the comforts of a sentimental philosophy and then back to the blind orgy of his wolfishness. Man and wold would be compelled to recognise one another without the masks of false feeling and to look one another straight in the eye. Then they would either explode and separate forever and there would be no more Steppenwolf, or else they would come to terms in the dawning light of humour.   

Bedroom hymes

Cramp

Let's let out and rise. Shake it out shake it out she's just like the weather it's cutting down the family tree in-between you and me she wants to be alone and together with you.

open up the ages darling. Tap tap tap pow pow pow chatting chatting chatting cause it's burning in the blood line smoooooooth I wanna give it all

The interesting thing about depression I've read lately is, well once it were called beautiful. That note I disagreed in my sick stance reading it and thinking why. But now, things change. I decide perhaps it is. The ugly part is how exhausted you feel-like there is end to life but you have to continue feeling that end and there is no escape. But also, you see beyond what others see too. It's not magic, perhaps realism. Of course you are so blind as well but sometimes in it all you get those second lasting rare moments when everything seems ok, or it all just makes sense. It's like a drug. Pop pop pop. Argh argh argh. Mmmmm. Second gone. Done. And that will make your day, or hour. It depends. I don't know how long that can be the source of your day, it's agonising and stale too. Count on your hands the things which are good and it does help to bring it all back. Self assured, not in words, in mind. Ahhhhhhhh like a fizz pop beer can soda. 

Let's let bones sink and I'll find my place. Bones get worse, have got worse and creaky. how low can you go? how low can you go?... get up. get up. get up. do something!

Too insistent

By the way

Stripped childhood

dead parents. two. dead. that's it. The unconditional is gone, that from birth unconditional. the love that's there when a lesson isn't to be taught, it's not about elders or wisdom or learning or bringing up. It is just about love.

thing is, you can hide away. you can bawl. I pretend, and hide, and show a bit, and don't let you in-that much. others are the priority and this screen is a place. funny you know what you have, had, once it's gone. Not so funny though, it's sad, and rubbish, and shit. You will never get it back, ever. It's gone. dead. finished. no going back now. gone.

people don't last forever and I can't go back, so i live in memory. on my todd

and how do we create now? us. others if they let us. so much energy has to be put into something. at present, sleep, and then go all over again. whats different about tomorrow will be different from today. constant constant thought allllllllllllllllllllllllllllll theeeeeeeeeeeeeee tiiiiiiiiiiiiimmmmmmmmmmmeeeeeeeee. enjoying squalor because nothing else matters but to feel the pain process and the weight. the constant look at that observe this hear things pick up on that reminder, see those colours take me back there move forward back up down left right spin sit still. switch off? seems impossible. it's all buzz buzz buzz it's never quiet. I don't know what quiet is. it's always scream.

what do I want to admit?

Leave my body

Yellow walls

alone. I hate it. We are all alone but I hate feeling really alone. I'll make a friend with Tracey. I'll learn from other tales. I'll make my own too from puzzles and patterns I shape. Dot dot dab dab click click tap tap. There must be something else. There is something else I just don't know if that wonder is also wanted from me. I keep ponder ponder ponder when really love must be used. For what! Prevent the linger and dance it away-but bubbles must form because if one is not lite then lights will not appear, only dark clouds. And freeze. Where's my wonder apart from me. I know me but I want to know you. Heartbreak is so heavy. Who would have thought so many tiny broken pieces weighed so much as they sit by themselves. Self. Individual. One piece scattered into scats. Drinking gin and sunbathing. You were my star ball of fire crystal diamond rock. Now I just have my hands empty and to what shall I grip onto now. I can't hold myself as I am me. Him? Others.

There ain't nothing empty about me because it's filled of so much. Experience. Trauma. Desires. But tasteless as they achieve nothing. As per usual the self is on the side. Fillet sag squash

Going going gone, guilt

What am I bidding for?

I feel a bit beyond trying to hide now. Because who are we if we are always trying to hide-another person? We would hate to walk away from another person, though I think it would be worst if we ended up walking away from ourselves. 

I still read Alice's blog. A young girl who hasn't turned 16 yet, however she celebrates life one month early than her due date 'just in case' she's not well, or not around then-because of her terminal cancer. I keep saying to myself things I have been taught, words I have heard but still I haven't quite learned from. How loud does a message have to be for things to finally be heard? I worry about today because then tomorrow will take care of itself. A few words a lovely friend of mine passed onto me over a year ago.

Perception is vital. If we hold guilt about things, doesn't that make it wrong? Guilt must be a sign that we know something we are doing isn't quite right, perhaps we are looking for validation from somebody to sign off our actions as OK... Of course, I'm talking about common sense here, don't steal, don't murder e.t.c are things you know not to do without having to say about in this case! Guilt in this case means associating this emotion to your behaviour. Why feel bad about something you have done, or may do/are planning to do in the future? We get ourselves into such ruts.

Some days this week have been the most anxious I've felt in a while. Quite strongly anxious and even dreams prove those thoughts are alive in my mind (not that I need dreams to prove they are there). It's just interesting what recent events do to you and how we can adapt them to ourselves. Meeting new people, what we learn from conversation. It's a constant mould mould mould to learn more about what we want, after all-life is that constant chase circle which will always be ongoing. Pick, choose, do you like this, do you like that? There will never be a time when we think, yes, all is satisfied, I have everything. I mean, it's all quick quick quick get get get have have have take take take. During this constant time it's recognising those parts in your life that you want to have and hold onto a bit more (in a non possesive kind of way!) People, objects-what makes you happy? Don't get rid of it just yet if it's something that makes you feel good, in a positive sense (not a 'life drug' kind of sense). Just don't allow certain things you think are right in your life, to mask deep down what's going on in your head. You'll end up being fucked in the future, believe me. Disguise is sexy, just not all the time.

Alice celebrates her birthday and Christmas one month on before, just in case; we hesitate to buy something we want, be around the people we love, because there are other priorities like our own being and health to think about. Whats more important? Suppressing your own desires or going with your instincts? It all depends on whether the instincts change. I've learned to go with mine a bit more now, because if we hold off with guilt of the consequence-how else are we ever going to know what makes us happy?

People advise, people question. The words they say only make sense if we are willing to accept those words. I mean, you won't agree with anything if it disagrees with how you want to live-right? If your heart tells a different story to the words you keep telling yourself in order to get by, surely something must change-a centre? Act on it. Hesitance is no guilty pleasure, just self doubt.

We're all fools

The sheets smell. The walls tell. Echos are too familiar.

We are all fools following in our trails. We always learn the hardest way. and cries for help may not have their worth anymore. we are all a mess. i'm too tired to learn, I should know by now.

Heartlines

H.A.P.P.Y

So happy when people I know who usually aren't in London, are in London, and we meet up for din dins and chat and laugh and go mmmmmmmmm and have nice food babies and then go home and feel very very lucky and wow and yay.

That is all.

I love London.

Itsu: I really like their food, but not the pictures

Why does Itsu's marketing look like a Linx deodrant spray advert. 'Eat Beautiful' and look like these toned slim hourglass shape women smiley and happy. Have they not heard of the variety of shapes woman can differ? No, i'm not a bitchy woman because my shape isn't there, I am hourglass shape. I just know amongst the women I have met, that if the varieties aren't represented, most feel like they aren't good enough or desired enough in society.

Even under skin, our bones are shaped how they are. No less fat will change this, it's just genetics.

Crayon face

I've felt like a wintery bear the last couple of days balancing work and snuggling like a bear in my bed, I think yesterday I slept for 11 hours to recouperate from a silly cold, sick thing. Eww!! Colds are tedious, if you let them be tedious. I'm quite chuffed I didn't stay at home yesterday and instead pulled my ass together, refrained from throwing up over towerbridge and made it into work!

KAPOW!

It's amazing what sleep does for you! I don't usually sleep so suddenly after my head reaches the pillow, but the last couple of days...mmmm it's been good!

In turn, I made a good catch on an error at work today which went down well. The sleep paid off in other areas too :)

The adventure is back

The adventure is back. There has been some awkward moments...ok some very frustrating moments some which seemed impossible to break through. Though, that's just it about adventure, the next one is all the more grand if the one before be gritty. The words let go have never seemed so relevant before.

The thing is, we can only teach ourselves, we have to let the lessons in to learn. I think I've learnt a lot about myself and my behaviour, and my behaviour now (even behaviour over 7 years ago!). I know I can't change anything, and my frustrations and angst in trying have been wiped away because, it just isn't down to me to make that change. It is down to them. Only, we have ourselves. We make everything what it is, like when two people look at the same object yet have completely opposite feelings about the same thing. We can only do our best, I'm not going to beat myself up anymore with wishful thinking. Some things are just out of your hands and I think the more time you spend thinking about them less, certain particulars fall into place.

We have our guards, we all do. Our guards are that we think too much, nothing is what it is unless we have our emotions attached to them. So, taking a step back is healthy. The objective can help. The advise we give to others is probably the advice we should give ourselves, it's always easier to say to someone else how to be because our emotions aren't all that attached to their problems. We learn from the learned; experience, and failings over time. Even if those failings are the same mistakes repeated. We will get back up again.

Some of my frustrations have turned into something else, I've finally accepted I can't wait for that day anymore. For change, or even a sign. We fall sick into a pattern of knowing only us and being blind by what else is out there too. In a surprising way, my loss has put things straight and it is so nice to feel quite level again. We all spin plates though we choose which direction they will turn, how many plates we carry though will always be the variable. I'm going to stop looking for answers because I finally have them, less false hope and being proved right again. In some cases, being proven wrong is nice, but we can't argue against our gut instincts. Sometimes, we just know, yet it will take that little bit longer to learn.

You are here

Happy

Smiling is great with your lips, it's even better when you smile with your eyes-and believe it.

Victims of ourselves

Only if for a night

Blinking pigs

Dissociation

I think i've let go of you in a way I didn't think I could before.

There's lust and then there's love.

Love is the harder emotion, I still think the physicality of two is a lesser way to express love-all it is is giving into desire. The tasty bitch. How about expressing love with the mind and not other parts of your body? Physicality only represents, though how much is truth? People these days want evidence of love, it's something hard to see so I guess we have to believe instead.

Choices

I know you are tired, but you do really need to ask yourself:

 

What do you really want in your life, now? and what do you want to do with yourself? I know you know most of the answer.

 

You seem in angst, hopefully not in despair.

The oak tree and the willow, over ice

So, my friday night involved going to the opening of an ice rink Canary Wharf, London.

Myself and friend were lucky enough that our names were on the guest list, we had free drinks and access to the cabin type bar lounge which is set next to the rink. Leather chairs, wooden everything, barrels in the middle of the room to function like standing tables. It did look and feel quite nice. Great Russian ice skating display and banter along the side. My Samantha style sex and the city jokes didn't go a miss.

The night got a bit more interesting though, when we were propsed with the question of:

"excuse me ladies, have you by any chance seen my mini bongo drums?..."

Now if that isn't a line I don't know what is, I wished I had seen this middle aged guy before he came over, just to see he had wooed the room with his question to others. Of course, we had not seen his drums. The more interesting part was this guys jumper, a v neck sleeveless knitted top you see guys wear over shirts. His was a mint green with random tiny flowers over it-something which only certain people can pull off, I'd say this guy pulled it off because his overall look wasn't impressive anyways (wow i'm harsh...) so the jumper was lost.

As conversation grew over jumpers questions and wine... Stuart was soon to announce he is a writer/producer. I'm not even sure how or why his occupation came up so quickly as we were talking, but having a film background I couldn't not be drawn in. Though, I still thought this guy was a berk. Why, well-not at one stage did he ask about the two girls he was with. His manner was less loud than some I have met, clearly trying to boost their ego and deciding what to do with their cocks- this guy seemed patient and self assured, I think in a good way.



The underlying question though, is what on earth was a guy of his age talking to two young girls in their twenties-why did he stay after looking for his bongos? Well that one is obvious, he wasn't looking for bongos otherwise he would have buggered off to find them. Should we be so skeptical about someone older than us starting conversation? I'm someone who is quite prepared to listen, and have my judgements-I think it's healthy that way instead of an instant too harsh dismissal. Also, I was interested in seeing what he had to say as opportunities like this don't come this often to chat with someone working in an industry, only a year ago I would have ran a mile to meet, just because of their job title. I think in the process of challenging this guys perseverance I might have come across a bit obnoxious in questioning most points he raised. I wasn't shocked by his documentary about the history over bras, his facts to impress females with a males knowledge in how a bra should fit correctly, and that most women don't know they are wearing the right bra size-I already knew. Whether I'm being arrogant, he just didn't grab me in the way I feel he wanted to, but he hid disappointment very well...


Over time, he left and reappeared with drinks. Fair doos, he had a conversation and decided to come back for more. I have to be honest though, it's not like his conversation was boring-I think it was just a good let out for me that night to stretch my brain into a frenzy of, how much could I piss this guy off by not being in awe of him... Perhaps it was also because earlier I noticed an even older guy walk past, glance at Stuart (in a knowing way) and have a smirk on his face-did he know what Stuart was up to?

So I was being the dick. For once, but I liked it though because he was still coming back with other points to say-my assumptions were proved wrong as such because there wasn't a moment when he didn't have anything to say, though the conversation wasn't balanced in his sincerity of getting to know two girls. All I know I wanted to do was not give him the whole 'ohh woooow' and 'that's sooo impressive' bullshit. I think he knew all I wanted was conversation, not money or anything else superficial so i'd get my kicks.

For some reason Stuart and I began to talk about life lessons, whether this led from me questioning what he wears to his film meetings (his response was, 'I go as me'). All in all I think it stemmed from him quite keenly showing how he was calm and chilled, compared to two girlies who liked to question him about particulars. It most likely came across as, what we didn't know about-he became the guru. However, when someone says that 'our winters' now are nothing compared to 'the winters you will face in years to come', in aid to shock us and make us take a step back-say that to someone who has lost both her parents and had numerous other events to cope with, you think 'please just shut the fuck up, i am not like most you meet...'. Which, he actually went onto say 'unless you have lost your nearest and dearest, winters now aren't going to be so bad as they will be later in life.' Once I'd told him I had, he did look the other way slightly. Stuart said, he wanted to be the oak, 'strong and steady' but when a massive storm brew he broke, where as now he is 'the willow tree, spread out and swaying'. I can see his point, but sometimes the way we put things (me included) you have to laugh!! We get very silly sometimes. I can't really fault him, he seemed happy and was definitely showing it through his words of 'wisdom', it was like he was on a high. I just don't think he expected to bump into someone like me that night-an exception to his rule.

Throughout the night my most interesting conversation was with a 40 year old Irish woman from Dublin who openly chatted about her sex life, lack of fertility, bitchy boss and how she see's myself and my other 20 something friend. With this lady, I had the best conversation of all that night-because she talked about what she felt and there was no instance of saying anything that she thought I wanted to hear. There was no fear to her words, only facts, experience and brutal honesty. And that was what gave me the most to think about.

Will I contact Stuart, who knows (I have his card). I know very much I certainly am not the person I was over a year ago, I'd much prefer to talk with Dublin again. And, I could not delve into the crooked world of seeming interested in someone to get guest list events, free drinks or nice dinners. As exciting as it may be, I prefer people not professions.

Some words I wrote today

I'd rather say:

"I’d take a taxi across town to see you for even just a minute. I'd wait outside all night even if I didn't know you would open the door in the morning. If you call me and say ‘Will you…’ my answer is ‘Yes’, before your sentence is out. I spin worlds where we could be together. I dream you. For me, imagination and desire are very close. But there is also reality..."

I'm willing to take that chance.

Some words I read today

“While I can’t have you, I long for you. I am the kind of person who would miss a train or a plane to meet you for coffee. I’d take a taxi across town to see you for ten minutes. I’d wait outside all night if I thought you would open the door in the morning. If you call me and say ‘Will you…’ my answer is ‘Yes’, before your sentence is out. I spin worlds where we could be together. I dream you. For me, imagination and desire are very close.” 

Jeanette Winterson

Shake it out

Your song

Interesting post coming tomorrow

my night with the writer/film producer...

'I was the oak, now I am a willow tree'...

Don't worry baby

Discovery

If we weren't curious, the world wouldn't be as it is, today.

Jambo

A song from Kenya, family holidays, elephant poo and giraffes. Hakuna matata.

iiiiiii Willlll Alllllwaaaayyyyssssss L...

Now I'm going to watch Moulin Rouge and probably get emotional because I am a big sap and of course it is a film all about love (my mum also used to cry at Beauty and the Beast). Moulin Rouge is a film full of desperation and determination for love, I mean, what else could anybody want except love?...

It's still hard to watch because of the song which ends up singing "I will always love you" by Whitney Houston. I used to sing, or more so shout, this line at the top of my lungs to my dad when I was a kid. I can see his face now wincing whilst holding a big smirk at the same time, sat on the sofa. It is a very hard song to hear.

Love lasts longer than desire.

I wish I could say

I wish I could say something good. I mean, something which makes sense, because a lot of the things we experience don't make sense for why they happen and it gets tedious sometimes.

I remember Shakespeare's words of 'Fortune turn thy wheel', as we are forever destined to experience ups and downs. Sometimes I say fuck your wheel because it isn't fair, and shouldn't have been my time then. Then I think, well I wouldn't be the person I am today because of everything that has happened and yadayadayada. I just want to take this moment to be pissed off because I feel like my mum was taken from me, too much has been taken from me and yes, I suppose sometimes people can't win. I'd rather not point out the positives of such situations because, well, it doesn't feel like it is the right step in accepting things. Can't I just be with my anger? Circles are sound but they aren't always fun round. And, I am tired of playing this game, I like my shapes miss-matched and squishy-that way things always get a bit more interesting. If your brain works in the same way all the time, you just get bored of yourself!

It's time to make sounds and shape your 'known' into something you actually like.

You look so fine

Bloody hell, oww

It's just not fair. Ciao mum.

You've seen the world, what did it look like?

Snug as a bug in a rug

Why would a bug be snug in a rug. But then I realised, bugs like rugs-eww!! That is gross.

Duh Flounce!

I'm not a bug for sure, i'm more of a cuddly curly fluffy head squidge...

Take the world apart

I can't survive

on a half hearted love that will never be whole

Choosing life

Falling away with you

I can't believe I forgot about this song, it was always one of my favourites as a teenager. Mmmm

A tune for Jack

My usual place

It makes me smile when I'm sat here, my kitchen in Wales. Pyjamas, fluffy hair and mug half empty at my side. As the fresh cold comes through the door I flash back to November last year remembering where I was in my life, and then there is now.

This year has been mental. It has been, too much.

I listen to songs, old playlists and my brain feels like it is running up behind me, beside me and then it goes too far forward into the unknown. Though, that unknown isn't scary anymore-it's just bloody exciting!

I know what parts are missing, something to come home to. I mean, I've so desperately tried to work out the idea of getting a cat tho it is something not allowed by my landlady. Crazy cat lady holls. I think it could work... though people and pets always work together much more. I need to build but not with bricks, I need to build with charge and initiative. I'm not tired anymore, even though there are a couple of things which tighten the chest, I think I'll be able to work through them.