Oh Manchester, so much to answer for.

I should be in Manchester tonight.

It's not fair! Haha.

Is evil just something you are, or something you do?

I'm not really up to much blogging tonight, so instead I leave you two lovely poems by two of my favourites.



'Not Waving But Drowning' - Stevie Smith

Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.

Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he's dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.

Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.

***

I want a cat a little bit too much.

Why did you go... (IV) - e. e. cummings

why did you go
little fourpaws?
you forgot to shut
your big eyes.

where did you go?
like little kittens
are all the leaves
which open in the rain.

little kittens who
are called spring,
is what we stroke
maybe asleep?

do you know?or maybe did
something go away
ever so quietly
when we weren't looking.



Poetry calms me.

Feathers bend like trees in the moonlight.

I feel awful. I feel like a horrible person.
I can't keep myself from crying sometimes - three & a half years. That's a long time for someone of my age. I never meant to hurt anyone, let alone someone I care about deeply. I just hope that he knows how much I care. If he were to hate me - it would hurt, but I would accept it.
I've never deserved someone so understanding though. I'm too messed up, haha.

I hope that he is okay. I want to phone him up, just for a chat, but I'm scared that it will all end in tears. I don't want to mess his feelings around.

I would like to say that I'm coping well, but that would be a blatant lie. I definitely don't feel proud or happy with myself. Quite the opposite. I just hope things will work out okay. Friends is a nice way to be, right?

***

I'm just so confused.
I don't want to be hated by other people, I don't want to be seen as the 'bad woman'. At this current moment, I hate the decision I made. However, I feel like I can maybe accept who I really am now. I'm sick of being in denial. I'm sick of being so in denial that I can't even see it anymore.
I don't really quite know who to tell, to be perfectly honest.
I often think about saying it, but the words simply hover over my tongue & retreat back to the safety of my mind. I'm like that with a lot of things though. It's something I should've fixed a long time ago. Perhaps, I should start this year. Start afresh.

***

In other news, it is Bank Holiday Monday next week, which can only mean one thing... Going out on Sunday night! I'm looking forward to it. I just need to forget about the horrible thing I've done. I need to be all dressed up & cheered up. I might also go into Sixth Form tomorrow, to give Simon his present (finally). I just hope that he will be there. I hope that he'll like it. In fact, I'm pretty sure he will love it! Fingers crossed.

Anyway, I think it's time for a bath.
I'm also going to go drown my sorrows in Ashes to Ashes on BBC iPlayer, with some chocolate biscuits. Yay for police brutality - 1982 style. ;)

"There's a law against me now."

Keep my heart breaking in the dark, come & spend the night.

I feel sick. I don't like Sunday nights. They always make me feel horrible & detached.
I should be getting some sleep tonight, as I'm up early in the morning. I just can't.
My head is whizzing around like a toy car. Baaah.

Devils & Gods, now that's an idea.

Rain, rain, rain. Plip plop.
Tonight, whilst walking home from work, it began to rain. Not the nice plinky-plonky type of rain or that 'fine stuff that gets you wet' (according to my mother), it was the sweeping kind that always seems to have it's own malevolent ideas.
As I continued walking, I thought about how much I enjoy the sound of rain falling on my umbrella. No sooner had the thought come into my head when the heavens opened. The wind whipped up around me, attempting to lift me up, up, up and away, but I stood firm. I was soaked to the skin - the thought of a nice cup of chamomile tea warmed me from the outside in.
By the time I had reached my front door, all was still. The rain was over as quickly as it began. I scrabbled around in my bag, shivering and hunting for my key. I love returning home from bad weather. I was welcomed home by the all too familiar process of steamed up glasses and aching hands. (I have bad circulation.) However, the thought of a nice chamomile tea was at the forefront of my mind, when much to my dismay, I realised we had none left. Oh well.
At least I'm wrapped up in my pyjamas now.

***

I don't really have a lot to say. I left Ashfield for good on Thursday. It was a strange day: tinted with nostalgia, but also full of joy to be leaving that place behind. I have a lot of bad memories of that place - the good ones outweigh them far too much though.
I will miss the Philosophy & Ethics class. I joined that group feeling totally left out. I never really felt like I integrated well enough at the beginning, I always felt on the fringes & as if no-one would miss me if I left. My attitude has totally changed in the short space of about two years.
I now feel like part of a group. There is not one person in that class who isn't great in their own way. Everyone works together & even though we are all distinctly different - there is just something about the group that clicks.
I feel so fortunate to have met those people.

Top row:(L-R) Mr Ackerman, Ebbie, Maria, Bryony, Emma, Simon, Me
Bottom row (L-R)Laura, Bekky, Gabrielle (I was going to type Gabby, but I like Gabrielle better, ha.)

***

I have been looking through a lot of my old photos recently. There's a few good ones in there. I may post them up here. Photography is a habit of mine that I don't indulge in enough. I like to take pictures of all sorts really. I just wish I had the money to afford a good camera that would help me broaden my distinctly amateurish skills!

I really should get a dailybooth, seeing as I'm so narcissistic with a camera. ;)
I like self portraits though, if I can be pretentious enough to call them that.

***

I don't really have much more to say, to be perfectly honest. I'll leave you with a passage from the book I'm currently (re-) reading: 'number9dream' by David Mitchell. I don't care what people say about his borrowing of ideas & themes from Murakami - this book gripped me in a way that Murakami's writings never have. Oh and on a final note - when he uses the word 'submarine', he is really talking about an underground train.

"Us drones all swing and lurch in droozy unison as the train changes speed. Normally only lovers and twins get this close to other people. I like the way nothing needs to be decided on submarines. I like the muffled clunking. Tokyo is one massive machine made of smaller components. The drones only know what their minute component is for. I wonder what Tokyo is for. I wonder what it does... I like the brew of swear, perfume, crushed food, grime, cosmetics. I like how you can study reflected faces, so deeply you can almost leaf through their memories. Submarines carry drones, skulls carry memories, and one man's shithole may be another man's paradise."

Meet me at the fountain, shove me on the patio.

My thought of the day:

Is it wrong to detest a political hate group?

Simply because I bloody hate the BNP.

I dreamt about you last night & I fell out of bed twice.

I miss laughing so hard that my stomach hurt.