Strawberry Fayre

This is the way things have turned out.

I'm 21 weeks pregnant, living with my fiance and dreaming of nothing more than being organised. Today I shuffled around furniture in our student house room. We are alone. The other tenants have escaped back to home, which is alright for them but this is the only place I want to be. Maybe I miss some of the company from back South; that's all. My DVDs are rearranged into colour order. That rainbow cheers me up when I see it. Everything's not so bad, really.

In just four months our futures will be sealed. Dan and I are bored waiting already. It doesn't help that there is no work for anyone, let alone us, in Carlisle at the moment. Which is why I seem to have time for trivial things like blogging. Well, that's the plan anyway.

My course was successfully changed and in September I return to University as a 2nd year in Creative Writing. That kind of made taking up this again a good idea. Plus, I miss the company.

For now, I'm afraid, my rumbling stomach and very flat car battery are calling me to better things. But don't worry, this growling of empty gut will not be the last you hear of me.

Reasons for Feeling Shit for No Reason

from 16th January 2009


I
Although there is no definite evidence of such a downfall, everything could fall apart at the tip of the see saw of life. Tip, like a fucking retarded, fucking, black girl opposite a midget.

II
The red bull and vodka I'm drinking, that was left over from last night, has lost it's bubbles.

III
Knowing that although things aren't totally shit right now, certain people and things not being in your life would ultimately make you happier. I am a coward.

IV
Memories of when things really were going badly, how little you could do to stop them then and how little you will be able to do when things go that way again. Made worse by those in a position to help doing fuck all and consequently even after resolution, bitterness and mistrust remains.

V
Weakness in other people pissing me off is only a distraction from my own faults.

VI
Procrastination from productivity.

VII
Petrol will not stay cheap for long.

VIII
Eternal youth is unachieveable; there's not much time left before hitting reverse.

IX
Being really happy only means that an abrupt end to everything going well is suffered a hundred times worse, so why fucking bother?

X
The need for appreciation, in every form.

XI
Knowledge, and lack of it.


Conclusion, There is always a reason.
It's nice to have someone around who will take the time to look for it.

Death March

A long overdue explaination;

things have become a lot more complicated since Christmas. I've been constantly ill, stressed and generally had other things on my mind than this blog. Any of these blogs. It makes me sad to see how long ago my last posts were and how little contact I have had with my friends on Blogger. However, while life looks up perhaps I'll find myself touching up the keyboard a little more often. Please don't say I spoke too soon.

Other than that, my status is currently 'ill' shortly followed by 'poor' and 'mildly concerned'.
More to follow, I asure you.

Invincible

I

Blow

Wide eyed my five year old mind cowered

Ten feet flames engulfed the metal frame 

Ten minutes and no rescue had arrived

Tiny hands held safe, huge eyes held fixated

No sound, no screams, my ears were ringing

No escape, carnage blocked the way home

Twisted black shell that could have been a coffin

But I was too young to know

II

Back

05/12/2008 04:20

I dunno what to put my phone light hurts my eyes x x x love you

Trace a line of what we mean 

By our silence

Long held, rush and falter

Don't hold it in any longer

You've used my hand

To wipe away unwanted tears

Butterfly kisses and bruises

That fade

Skin and bone

Drag letters of love

Between your shoulders

And feel you shudder

Fast breaths and eye contact

We are still alive

Teeth in lip and arched back

Collapse

I WILL:

Much to the satisfaction of my ego, every goal except one set for 2008 was achieved. The future looks bright in 2009 although another bout of motivation is required to get us from this side to the next.

So, in the good spirit of an alcoholic, in 2009:

I WILL rent my own house

I WILL get a tattoo

I WILL make an effort!

Chins up, glasses raised - to a year of friendship, productivity and growing up. Chink, drink, down it. May the mayhem and mischief continue. Sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll. INNIT.

2009 (99)

Happy New Year if you are still alive and/or sober enough to be reading this. Can't remember New Year's Eve, let alone the countdown or anything from around then. It's bits and pieces. A bit like everything at the moment, sometimes I'm in my head and sometimes I'm everywhere but. Can't escape for long though, it's more like a prison every day. Who the fuck came up with skulls anyway? I wonder how hard they are to crack.

Passed out on New Year's, haven't really recovered yet. Feel like a zombie, not just because there's still alcohol rushing around my blood stream, but because of the severe lack of sleep. It's not been fun. The goal was to get wankered, to forgive and forget, which was only marginally achieved and now things seem to be heading to worse rather than better. Things just haven't seemed to work out the way they were meant to this time.

If I could fight myself I would, because really that's the only person I have to blame for how I'm feeling. One stupid, naive moment of rushing hormones and this is how it ends, waiting for something to happen. It's not, really, very, fun.

To cheer up, it's been a glad relief to work on 'Dance For Me' and hit the pre-production up a notch. The scene is set, all we need now is a few months of hard work and complete dedication and maybe it will all go well for once and my mind will be diverted to a more productive cause than sitting around feeling sorry for myself and not being able to close my eyes without that illustrious mind's eye of mine taking over and replaying scenes I would rather erase forever.

New Year's resolutions will be up shortly,
to make sure I stick to them.

Happy New Year.

Got no bollocks

Because the cold has frozen them off. Student accommodation might have it's perks but the radiators don't work. Last night is half blacked out, half amazingly cool. My fish tank needs a clean. On the desk is a pile of plasters, drugs and Marlboro Red packets. The washing hasn't finished yet. My flip flops say 'I heart London'. Beside the laptop is a notepad with the words 'So shoot me' at the top of the page and a mind blank underneath it. The colours ran and stained my Sex Pistols t-shirt a weird greeny blue. My MSN is flashing. Every time I think my brain shuts down a little bit more. There's so much to look forward to and such a massive gap between things as they are now and how I would like them to be. It takes hard work.

Red is polysemic for water, bed, smokes, hair, buses, Shaun of the Dead, Paris, love, hate, irony, scars, gel pens that smell of cinnamon, Youtube, Alkaline Trio, error messages, the beads the Jimmy wore a lot, lipstick kisses, being woken up by the sunshine, self destruction

and everything inside my head that doesn't make sense and doesn't express itself properly.