No-vember.

I have not written on this thing for a long time; I should write on it more.



So I shall.



Having abandoned the library in favour of a slow and thoughtful walk home (and an admirable avoidance of reading Virginia Woolf) I have had an evening of 'relaxation'. Well, as close to relaxation as I can get.



I keep getting headaches. I am thinking lots every day and my mind keeps throwing up interesting ideas.

I see kids playing by the A3

Scrambling up the stone slope in the underpass

With that sense of urgency that a monster is coming;

Or that you're an expedition leader

The tread of your trainers scrapes cold rock

And with a burst you've bypassed

The cobwebbed white walls with the railway line on the right

Black metal veins pulsing ocassionally with life you don't know

And the light pollution adds a tint to the milky sky

Sickly mix of orange and deepening grey

Black branches; useless capillaries reaching up to

Somewhere.

I saw kids playing by the A3.

The significance of the place is a mystery to me.

I may have a stab at writing 'stream of consciousness' narration. It makes me feel a little less crazy when I read Woolf and Joyce. It also makes me feel a littles less unique. Not sure how I feel about that.

Clocks Go Back.

And you might as well have been

Threading my soul through that wooden reed

Guiding it with your fingertips

And letting it sing so sweetly

Burgundy skirts torn to perfection

A cloud of simple human nature

Pirouette my darling and dance with me

Flags billow and whisper

We're free.

What a crazy few weeks. Not knowing whether I'm coming or going; and generating enough stress to power a sizeable turbine.

My lovely weekend started in a purple 'new' Mini Cooper, made a stop at a beautiful leaf-littered cricket pitch and gorgeous country pub in Sevenoaks, careered its way down numerous motorways and roads before briefly coming to a halt at my house. Cue tea, Mexican food, Mum, Dad, sister, belated birthday presents, labradors, more tea and a midnight bedtime. This stop, albeit brief, was much needed and reaffirmed my affection and love for family and home.

A haircut, new hair colour, shopping, a visit from family friends and a scrumptious (yes, I did just use that word) jacket potato preceded another antic-filled, alcohol-fuelled night of DILLIGAF family madness. Ring of Fire saw Joe in bed by 10.30pm; Tom downing a vase of JD, Coke and Stella; then much cake, dancing, balloons and not forgetting face paint:

So, ideas. I've had a few of them lately, but they've kind of been buried beneath stress and worry and procrastination. They include:

* Ideas for photo shoots. One in particular consists of me photographing head shots of people with their favourite lyrics scrawled on their face. It occurred to me how much I love quoting lyrics and snippets of wonderful stuff that people stay. My Dalai Lama poster informs me that you should share your knowledge as it is a way to achieve immortality. True that. I was also thinking that we come into this world as a blank canvas, and leave it shaped and formed by words.

* Butterfly milk and bumblebee tea. Not as a potential product for the beverage market. Just a phrase myself and Steph Kitchiner came up with in one of our random in-car conversations.

*Autumnal stuff. Leaves, gold, red, colours, smell of fresh earth, rain, nights drawing in.

That's a pick of the bunch. There's a lot more nestled in my mind somewhere if you move some of the boxes around and peer through some windows.

Snippets.

My imperfections lie beneath my fingernails
Scabs and skin harvested in a frantic sweep
My hair is dishevelled by the same thin tools
And my only desire is to fall asleep.

__________________________________


Negative thoughts as chasm filler
Spread them on thick
But the cracks get bigger.

__________________________________


Fairy lights cast colours on bits of yesterday
Pinned into cork to make sure I don’t forget.
All eyes on me; for once this is a comfort.

__________________________________

Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah
Actions speak louder than words
Love is better than obsession
Sparking brain patterns leading into nothing but confusion and pointless random typing spilling guts to a page on a PC that is not even paper
Preen pose giggle hold clammy hands and play fight along the Thames reading each others minds the mirror and the window

New Chapter. Same Book.

Thought I should update as I haven't in a while, and and on this Wednesday evening I am a loss as to what to do.

This summer was one of change, as most summers are.

'Whenever I come back, the air on railroad is making the same sound' [A Movie Script Ending, Death Cab for Cutie]

Lately, whenever I go to write, everything escapes me.

I am sleeping a lot, but not enough, sometimes too much. Submerged in a dream. Intoxicated by the first throes of something that I won't refer to by using the 'l' word. Partly because I'm scared to admit it, and partly because I don't want to sound like a simpering schoolgirl with a crush. You know the kind. Etching your 'beloved's' name on your exercise books and inking heart shapes on your hand with your new glitter gel pen.

Nope. No etching or simpering.

Nervous energy and oodles of spare time aren't a happy pairing. My new house is beautiful, clean and cosy- but I am vexed by the endless amount of hours that plead to be filled upon my waking up.

Creatively, I'm a bit all over the place. Ideas come and go like lights blinking on enough. Add to that the fact that I have once again misplaced my camera cable (which I only purchased a couple of months ago) and I'm at a loss.

I'd be lying if I said I felt content.

Supercalifraglisticexpialidocious!

I couldn't think of a word that summed up the week I've just had- so I stole one from Mary Poppins. She won't mind.

Where to start? Folk Week was, as it has been for the past 3 years, an incredible experience. Meeting a wide range of people of all ages and backgrounds, spending my money on alcohol and hot chocolate infused rum; not to mention all of the sausage sandwiches and burgers I stashed away after a hard night's drinking and dancing. The colour, the freedom, the movement. Truly amazing. But the best thing was the collective that I camped with.

We really were (and are) like a family. With a matriarch with a passion for vodka and a daddy figure with a kind heart, us 'children' were definitely on to a winner. The youngest being 15, and the oldest being 63, we really did span a wide range of ages! But the barriers all melted away and we indulged in water fights, singalongs and story telling.

I am starting to realise who I am and what I love, which is so refreshing; if not a little scary. I intend to transfer the freedom I feel at festivals such as this and nurture it so that it becomes a fixed part of my every day life. I'm starting to have more ideas regarding where I want to go after university; although I am now a firm believer in not looking too far ahead. Why would you want to do that when you could be living in the moment?

So, in general, I feel enlightened and happy. And it's great. This summer may not have been an extravaganza, but it's been emotional and educational. I'm itching to get back to university and back to my friends, new house and course. For once I feel that I've got some direction.
The funny thing is that I'm actually itching- I'm covered in insect bites following a week camping in a school field.

Priceless.

Defective Refridgerator.

I want to be a tower of strength, like a shining, smooth refridgerator. Cool, calm and collected. Keeping things fresh.
I have no idea what I'm on about. Bear with me.
But I worry that someone will pull the cable out of the back of me, and all of that coolness will go. Then everything I've worked so hard to preserve will go rancid.

Anyway, in other news, Folk Week is edging nearer. Colours, morris men, rum and hot chocolate, friendly strangers, dancing, stars, tents, beer, cider, laughter, free spirits, poi, lights, dresses... yes.
I'm a bit 50/50 in terms of whether or not I'm looking forward to it. Much has changed in a year, but I like to think for the better.
Very dry creatively; my main idea has been a personification of the cafe where I work. Rough notes include:

Raspberry ripple stretch marks
Each dirty table the cut on the knee of a youngster, needing attention and cleanliness
Customers' orders the wishlist of a wanting child

Blah. I should write more down.

Easyworld and Restlessness.

I went to Warwick Folk Festival this weekend. Whilst not as free-spirited as my beloved Broadstairs Folk Week (which is creeping ever closer), it was an enjoyable experience. Above are some photos.

I feel like I could write everything and nothing all at once. I am feeling rather restless and indecisive, which isn't great. I have this desire to write but I have no idea where to begin or even if I should. Sigh.

And it came to me in a nightclub toilet..

The title of this particular entry refers to a nugget of an idea that did indeed present itself in the toilet of Totally Wired, Margate. I had no pen or paper to hand so I went to type the muddled idea into a draft message before forgetting the order of the words. Cue me silently cursing myself for misplacing what could have been the beginnings of a masterpiece inside my alcohol addled brain; before rehashing the original idea and thinking 'Fuck it, that will do'. If said nugget does develop into anything, you'll hear it here first. Promise.

So lately I have produced next to nothing, which I find very sad. To be honest I've been preoccupied in trying to focus on the good and positive when things have gone wrong. Luckily, things appear to have resolved themselves and two of the three planned events of my summer are going ahead with some of the people I love. Excellent!

I go away to Warwick on Thursday to steward at their 30th annual festival. Whilst folk festivals and music may not be to everyone's taste (I'll be honest, it's not all to mine!) there is something about the spirit, colours and freedom that radiate from the people who are part of these events. I'm hoping to get some inspiration from all the heady mix of morris dancers, music and sleeping under the stars. Ooh yeah.

Love Is All Around (?)

These 3 pictures are of random heart shapes that appeared to me on 3 different occasions. I find it comforting that these 3 hearts cropped up over time; I took it to be a sign that I shouldn't give up on finding love.

These images were taken at the modest but charming Guildford Castle. I loved how the purple flowers exploded out of the old brick wall, and the winding passage caused my imagination to run wild. I really do love Guildford.

More photos/poetry/collaborations to follow soon. Brighton this weekend, so hopefully lots of lovely images and inspiration.

Channel.

When we met I was in awe
From day one you were so high
Up there in my estimations
I wished that I could fly

So I could hover with you
Wherever you chose to go
Lovesick stupid and struck right down
My feelings were always on show

Wearing your heart upon your sleeve
For all the world to see
Is all very well when someone loves you
But I don't think you love me

Maybe I am wrong
But to me this string is tangled
My sleeve's unstitched and the heart it fell
But I caught it before it was mangled

By my defiant footsteps
As I hold my head up high
See when we met I wasn't myself
I was sad, and self deprecating, and shy

Treble twelve months or thereabouts
And the same cracked record is on
But these days I can turn it down
Even though you're not totally gone

So I don't know where this is going
Or indeed where its gone
One thing I do know, however
Is that I'm better, happier, and strong.

Rough and Unpolished.

Submission One: untitled.

Inspired by a failed trip to the beach in which a bikini was worn in vain. The weather was really cloudy and gave off an odd, eerie and threatening feeling which I likened to the aftermath of a nuclear holocaust. Add in the fact that this was on a beach in June where people steadfastly stayed on the beach despite the lack of sun and you have a strange yet absurd poem.

Summer light falls in squares upon
Green lino and yellow walls
It was warm in the back garden; a contrast
To this afternoon’s bleak beach
Mist rolling in from the sea
But everyone seemed oblivious
Ploughing on in idle bathing
Both on land and in water
Not disturbed by the grey pall swathing
Sickly sunshine, just how I imagine
The end of the world to be.
And somehow it was funny
That no-one was choking or
Running for their lives.

Instead, they sat
Content with sand and lacklustre weather
A stiff upper lip and a sticky ice cream fist.

Submission Two: untitled.

Another weather-inspired piece. I have a fascination with the sky. Reading this back, I can't remember what the lines Would she bare her teeth?/Or sigh with relief? mean; I think I was trying to personify the sky and imply that a turbulent storm may be an expression of anger on her part or perhaps an outpouring resulting in relief. Or something.

The sky is yellow and sick with rain
Scarring the shielded window pane
Peering through the white wish nets
Would she bare her teeth?
Or sigh with relief?
The gold ball sun glares defiantly
Attempting to add colour to a crying shame
I can’t decide if it looks like the end of the world
Or a sickly child trying to get well again.

Quiet Window.

What a pleasant few hours.
Yesterday evening I went to Spoons with a few friends, some of whom I hadn't seen in such a long time. I felt much more relaxed than I have at recent meetings with people, which calmed me quite a bit. I had feared that I had moved on and was at risk of leaving people behind because I had outgrown them. Thankfully, this doesn't appear to be the case.

I am listening to Radiohead in an attempt to see what all of the fuss is about. Currently ploughing my way through their extensive Spotify archive, and am on 'Fitter Happier' on OK Computer. So far, I'm enjoying this album. I can't quite sum up in words how I feel about it but it seems to be striking a chord somewhere.

Had a great day today with friends in Canterbury. It's been such a long time since I went out for lunch with more than one friend at a time, and it was good to enjoy each other's company in an easy-going and enjoyable manner. I'm feeling quite content; if you disregard the slight ache in my ribs and the fact that I unashamedly shed a few tears and had to exit the room following Paris Michael Katherine Jackson's heartbreaking tribute to her late father.

Ah, and now on to my 'art'. If you can even call it that. I don't feel justified in calling it that because it has been so long since I actually produced anything that I feel is worthy of that label. Anyway- I have so many ideas, it's just a question of printing the photos and doing something with the words I have jotted down in yet another notebook. I feel slightly bad that I have neglected to do anything else to my poetry book which I started a few weeks back at uni. A lack of a USB camera cable is also not helping. I definitely need to be more proactive and thus more prolific.

The first folk festival of my summer is almost here. On the 22nd July I will go to Warwick with a few Folk Week friends to volunteer and camp for a few days. I will try to take my camera and capture some of the colour, dance and music that I associate with my beloved Broadstairs Folk Week- which is itself only a month away. It seems silly to me that I am yet to produce anything artistic relating to Folk Week, as there are reems of possible ideas. This is something I hope I can correct.

We shall see what the next couple of weeks holds.

Love, Ire & Song.

Well, it's been a while.

Have had a hectic weekend, as the cafe where I now work is situated in Palm Bay, which has hosted Margate's Big Event for the past four years. Cue shitloads of people all wanting hot food, drinks, ice cream and our souls. I may be wrong about the last part, but at some times it felt like it. All in all, it was a good weekend, and quite fun at times!

So here I am, sitting in bed with 15 minutes to go before I have to get up and get ready for another day at the cafe. It's nice to have money, but I feel like my summer hasn't started yet. I haven't seen a lot of my friends, although some of that has been due to an inexplicable feeling that is similar to apathy. It's not how I want to feel; and I'm learning that it's pretty much impossible to try and figure out what I'm feeling and why. So that's how it is. I'm hoping to see some people soon as I don't want this summer to be a total non-starter.

As of tomorrow I'm off for three days which is lovely. I've got so much to do; decorate my room, read books for next semester, make jewellery, and of course see my friends. Part of me is really tired and weary with a certain part of my life, and each time I think I've gained some clarity it seems to escape somehow. I sort of wish that I lived back in a time where people had to communicate via letter or in person, as they had no other choice. I think these two methods of conversing are so much better than texting or phoning; although phoning is pleasant as it's often really comforting to hear someone's voice.

9.23- seven minutes to go until the morning work routine. Another day of dishwasher, hot plates of food and numbered wooden spoons.

9.27 now. The hour will be old in 3 minutes.

Brenda's A Bitch.

In the title I am referring to Brenda Chenowith, a character from Six Feet Under. I was just listening to 'Kool Thing' by Sonic Youth and it reminded me of her.

Anyway, in other news, I can finally sigh with relief as I found something to do! Huzzah!
Today I purchased a lovely hardback brown page notebook from Paperchase and walked around Guildford taking photos. I now have ideas for new poems and stories as well as a scrapbook.

The idea is that I will go through my word docs and Deviant Art submissions, edit them if I want to, then word process and print them off and stick them in the lovely Paperchase book. I then plan to add photos, collages and embellishments until I feel I've made the work more than just lines on the page.

Amy had an idea AND ACTED UPON IT. This is rather groundbreaking and thus deserving of capitals.

Peaks and Troughs.

The title of this blog pretty much sums up how I feel about this week.
It started off with a lot of mixed feelings, having visited my cousin and her new baby. It was so lovely to see them and my other cousin and her boyfriend, and at the risk of sounding gooey, it was really something quite special when I held my little second cousin twice removed (or something). Babies do have this amazing ability to reduce me to sentimental slush.

As nice as the visit was, it got me thinking, which isn't always a good thing. I started to think about family; my place within it; the people I never see and who I have no real attachment to; and how I hope that in the future I'm as happy as my cousins are.

I have discovered Six Feet Under this week, thanks to my friend Dawn who owns all five series on boxset. It really is one of the best shows I have ever watched. Deep, gripping and darkly comic, I viewed it as a productive way to spend Tuesday. I am now hooked and craving my next hit in the form of Season 2 Episode 3.

I have been very up and down this week. Right now I'm thinking about how good life is right now. I have a week left of being a fresher and all in all, I'm happy with what I've achieved this year. I'm a better person, a stronger person and I have ideas, enthusiasm and energy that I plan on using in my second year. I don't plan to let any of my black clouds rain on how good it feels to be focused and appreciated.

Sometimes it doesn't matter how much thought-provoking American TV drama you watch; or the amount of low light emitted by bulbs of the fairy variety that are positioned strategically in your room in halls. The nagging feeling of discontent cannot be displaced by a filling meal, or soothed by the calming tones of chill out tunes.

It occurred to me earlier on, just as I was reaching for the door handle to my bedroom, that it doesn't matter how far I travel or where I go: a part of me will always be susceptible to these bouts of feeling 'a bit odd'. The longer I wait around for a revelation, a cure, a magical elixir, the more disappointed I'm going to be. Because really, I can't do anything about it. Sometimes can't articulate how you feel or why you're feeling that way, and that should be okay. Even if it does mean sitting on my arse conjuring up justification as to why I should have another chocolate bar or how its perfectly acceptable not to venture out of my halls all day.

In other news, I have some random ideas floating around.

Sugar rain
Flecking the window pane
Like childhood grazes from playground games
A spattering of scabs in a straight line
Only this time
They're droplets, and I'm much older
I like to see the effect I have upon their form
As I pull the window shut
And one bleeds into another.

There's been a lot of rain here recently. No, really, there has. That's not a metaphor for once.
I worry I'm too self-absorbed.

Holding On To What You Have and Hilltop Sunburnt Heaven.

Today I journeyed up to Pewley Hill in Guildford, which is quite near the castle, with some of my friends. After stocking up on strawberries, humous, bread, muffins, ginger beer, home-made cupcakes, cloudy lemonade, crisps, raspberry sponge and cheese strings, we were ready to climb THE HILL.

It is no exaggeration to say that Pewley Hill is immensely steep. But the sight at the top was worth it.

Alas I don't think I have my camera lead, but as soon as I do I will upload the photos I took today. It's beautiful up there, it almost makes you forget that you're in Guildford. It's almost like you're nowhere and everywhere all at once. The sun on my back may have crispened my skin but I don't care. For at least half an hour I was quiet and at peace, despite numerous thoughts rolling through my mind. At least they weren't bombarding me, as the often do when I can't sleep and lie awake thinking of everything and nothing.

I have just skim-read a blog called sweetbabyjames, about a little boy who was born prematurely and who encountered numerous problems in his short life. The fact that his parents had the courage to document their experiences about caring for a special needs baby touched me deeply, and made me realise even more that you have to appreciate what you do have while you have it. An old cliche, I know, but so true.

Tomorrow I have a meeting with my tutor to try and decide whether or not I should continue with my Creative Writing module. We shall see how that goes. I am also meeting with my soon to be housemates to discuss who is having what room. I already know which one I'm going to bid for, and as it's the smallest room I don't think I'll have much competition!

I really need to get working on my Bridport entry, although I don't think my initial idea is good enough or exciting enough. I am definitely my own worst critic.

There don't seem to be any stars out, this saddens me. I think I can see one but it's blinking rather rapidly so I think it's actually an aeroplane masquerading as a star.

Ho hum yes... I have nothing else to say.

Sleepy Satisfaction.

What a crazy end to a manic week!

Yesterday I took my World Literature and Cultures exam which concluded my first year at university. Although I had prepared for it, adrenalin and general overload of information prevented me from writing a decent answer. This was something I chose to ignore as I led the cry 'Pub!' after we left the exam hall.

After a few drinks in Channies bar, I headed back to mine to a healthy dinner, several wardrobe malfunctions and a giggle with Rhiannon before heading over to Cathedral Court for drinks with my lovely EngLit buddies! To get us in the mood for Chav Night, we pulled several stupid poses and danced to classics such as 'Put A Donk On It'. Classic. Incriminating evidence is now on Facebook.

After much dancing, (which included not one but two rather energetic skanks to One Step Beyond) the time was 1am and along with Stephanie D I graced the HRB's DJ booth. I absolutely love DJ-ing, both on radio and at No Wave nights. It gives me such a buzz, and when I put All The Small Things on the decks everyone was up and dancing. Was a great feeling! I did however feel rather bemused after a guy who requested ska shot down my suggestion of A Message To You, Rudy by saying that it was too commercial... WHAT?!

Then I dragged myself out of bed this morning to join Dawna on Flip the Switch. I'm really proud of us and the show, we're getting better at smoothing out the glitches.

I'm now free for 5 months! Am planning to go to London for the day soon with my limited funds... But for now, all plans will be put on hold for some sleepy time. Yeees.

Trials, Tribulations and Wondering Where You Are.

It has been a rather hectic weekend. I won't go into details, but it has been very emotionally draining and has caused me to experience anxiety that I hadn't felt for a very long time.
With a bit of luck, everything is now resolved and I can sleep easy. A lack of sleep is such an awful thing; especially when you finally drop off to sleep only to find that your dreams are infected with the things that were bothering you whilst you were awake.

But, in order to get to the good, you have to wade through some crap first. Maybe not the most poetic or eloquently-phrased thing I have said, but I do believe it is true.

What a year, or to be more accuarate, September-October-November-December-January-February-March-April and now finally, May. My first year of university will be over in a matter of weeks. Quite something when you consider that there was time when I found it hard to emerge from my room and speak to people face to face.

I feel like I've come a long way. A few months back I wouldn't have thought it possible. But I've moved away from home, learned to look after myself, taken responsibility, co-hosted a cracking radio show (www.gu2.co.uk Flip the Switch Saturday mornings 10-12, couldn't resist a cheeky plug!), edited the Literature Section of the uni paper and made loads of new friends. The only thing I'm a little sad about is that I haven't befriended more boys; not in that way, but most of my best mates back home are guys and I miss the banter!

I won't be sorry to leave halls, although I will miss some of the people. I will miss living on campus though. The lake and scenery is beautiful.

I'd be lying if I said everything has been resolved. There's still something that is at the back of my mind and on the tip of my tongue. The difference is that it doesn't cripple me in the way it used to. But if fate and reason and all that stuff really is true, then it will work itself out in one way or another. I like to think that the person concerned knows me well enough to understand the choices I've made.

I have to go to the library now. My exam is on Friday, and then, after that, let the good times roll.

x

Reading about things I don't understand.

I haven't done much today at all.

I'm listening to Bob Dylan and the sun is shining through the window. Lovely and warm.
I'm now listening to Bob Marley. Thanks to Spotify and The Guardian online, I've managed to access a playlist of songs about revolution. If only it were enough to drown out the boisterous sound of bass speakers from the room down the halls.

Returning to the topic of what I have done today, well, it hasn't been entirely unproductive. I cleaned by room, wrote a blog (two in one day for those of you who actually read this), re-read some of 'A Grain of Wheat' (a novel by Ngugi wa Thiong'o about the effects of colonialism on the people of Kenya) and made some notes. I also read some online news articles including a piece on Carol Ann Duffy becoming poet laureate and Stephen Fry's letter to his 16 year old self.

Bob and his Wailers are wailing at full volume now; the boys are chanting something or other.

Intermittent Sunshine.

My first week back at university is almost over! It has been a lovely few days; with last night and Tuesday night being the highlights. Nothing like bursting into song in Wetherspoons, gobbling down battered mushrooms and watching live bands at Open Mic whilst defacing the tealight candles set on the table. Anyone who thinks that English Literature students are placid, peace-loving, flower-bedecked poets should think again. Really we're booze-guzzling, raucous arsonists.

The sun is shining down on Surrey today, although it does have a tendency to keep disappearing behind clouds every now and then. I've tidied my room and am currently listening to bands who will hopefully appear at the proposed Lyrics at the Lake festival. The brainchild of Ollie, our EngLitSoc president, will find out its fate this afternoon at 4pm as Ollie, his VP Sarah and others will meet with uni bosses to find out whether or not they will be given the green light. I for one am crossing my fingers! I am on the panel that will be deciding the line up and putting the bill together. We have the power!

I should really start some revision soon, but saying that I have been very good this week. Revision has been taking place everday, with some sessions more productive than others. Yesterday turned into a Smith/Nouvelle Vague/Neutral Milk hotel- soundtracked procrastination session, with the odd conversation putting the world to rights before arriving at the morbid topic of mortality. Pissheads we may be, but damn are we deep!

I'm happy to say that myself and Dawn Harman will be back on the air tomorrow on Flip The Switch. Listen live (or listen back at your leisure) on 1350 AM or online at www.gu2.co.uk. Am a little nervous as I'm worried I've forgotten how to 'drive the desk', but I'm sure we will be fine! On another musical note (haw haw) myself and Steph Davies will be DJ-ing in the Helyn Rose Bar next Friday night as part of No Wave's Chav Night. Provisional set list includes Modest Mouse and Dresden Dolls.

Now just to get this pesky exam out of the way! Then BBQ's, cheap juants to London and friend-fuelled drinking. Then back home to Thanet at the end of May to a cafe job, festivals and good times. Good times TBA.

I have run out of things to say, although I did read the blog 'Scared of Dying' the other night and was bowled over by the art. Go have a look, it inspired me to draw!

Merry weekend and best wishes xxx

So I told my problems, you're never gonna get me, if I'm too busy..

I am listening to the Sunshine Underground very very loudly.


Shortly, I will be listening to Frank Turner's cover of The Postal Service track 'The District Sleeps Alone Tonight'.








I seem to be enjoying my melancholy music at the moment. Oh yes indeedy.





I'm annoyed at myself because although I've changed in lots of ways, and have gained confidence in myself, I'm still so closed off when it comes to relationships. I blame that on someone else, naturally, it's all their fault. I'm 20 years old and can't be bothered, thank you for that.





So I'm sitting here belting out Frank Turner and half-admiring, half-cursing the leafy trees that I can see from my window (they look lush and pretty, but they obscure my view and now I can't spy on people. Don't worry, I mean 'spy' in a light-hearted, jesting sort of way.)





I also seem to have this nausea that keeps revisiting me at annoying moments. It probably didn't help that I decided to spin around on an office chair in the common room in attempt to clear my head of the things I was thinking; however, as with most observations of hindsight, I did not realise this until after I had done it.





I am now going to have a 'rummage' through my file of writing to see if there is something I can post here...





*rummages*





Ah screw it. You shall have something new. Spontaneous.

Redundant metal

Once clasped between fingers; now

A relic of then.

Best wishes xxx

Raindrops and Blossom.

What an odd yet mundane day.

I woke up having had a strange dream about travelling to Africa and becoming very fond of one of the girls I met there. I recently decided that next summer I want to travel, and with a bit of luck I will soon send my passport off.

When I opened the curtains, I was surprised and somewhat dismayed to see that it was raining quite heavily. The wind was blowing the white blossom off of the tree near my window, peppering the glass with petals. One of the blossoms was heart-shaped, and I kept thinking to myself 'I should take a photo of that before it falls off or is blown away'. I put it off for a few hours before getting my camera, and, sure enough, it had moved ever so slightly, ruining the heart-shape. I reached my arm out of the window before taking some macro shots. Sadly I have misplaced my camera lead so I'm not sure when my new photos will be making their appearance on here.

I am back in Guildford for the final semester of my first undergraduate year. It has been good in so many ways and bad in others, but on the whole the good prevails. I definitely feel more creative; I just struggle to put my ideas down on paper. I took a fair few photos when I was home last, and have a few ideas for poems.

I would really like to take some grainy photos, ones that appear older than they are. If anyone can suggest a camera that I could buy or some software that would be great.

I don't have much else to say, words seem to be escaping me.

Best wishes xxx

Pathetic Fallacy Fails.

It was raining heavily when I emerged from Spoons this evening following a great night shared with good friends, some of whom I hadn't seen in a long while. It was pleasant to see that despite distance and time I still enjoyed seeing everyone, and that they enjoyed seeing me too.





Josh and I had a brief yet insightful conversation beneath the shelter of Samo's whilst waiting for my taxi. He quite rightly pointed out that the next few years are ones to be treasured, as after those years have passed chances are that meetings like tonight's one will be few and far between due to jobs, relationships and the general reluctance to return home to Thanet.





We all laugh and joke at its relative 'scumminess', but really it's made us who we are and has had more of an effect on us than any of us are willing to openly admit. It's my home, all of it, from the pretty multicoloured lights recently installed on the otherwise bare jetty to the barren highstreet that seems to get worse with every return visit. I unashamedly admit that I do love certain parts of Thanet, the beaches namely, but other spots too. Everywhere seems to hold a memory, from the seemingly indentical avenues of Palm Bay where I learnt to drive to the hill leading from Northdown to Dane Valley which I walked down many a Sunday morning following a drinking session at Tucker's old house.





I feel I'm straying from my original point. What Josh said saddened me, but in a way it was also quite refreshing. Gradually I am realising things that would have been more use a few years ago (never mind) when I was point blankedly refusing to socialise due to the persistent presence of a rather sizeable black cloud. Better late then never though.





It doesn't matter about two years from now. It doesn't matter about tomorrow really, because to an extent it's predetermined by something or someone who isn't going to disclose the details any time soon. What matters is now, no matter how mundane that may be. Of course this old bumpf has been regurgitated both by well-meaning elder family members, advice-dispensing parents and sentimental fridge magnets alike for as long as anyone can remember. Until you realise it for yourself though, it just sounds like a tired corny Band Aid; a sticking plaster designed to make you worry less and enjoy life more.





But it really is true. That's why it didn't matter that mine and Josh's conversation wasn't the happiest. It didn't matter that it was pissing it down with rain either. What mattered is that the past few hours were spent laughing and enjoying the company of people I know NOW.





To add another dimension to this blog before I sign off, I have included one of my recent photos for your persusal. Feast your eyes (or avert your gaze, it's not like I can tell).

More poetry/photos/musings to follow soon.

Best wishes xxx

#1

Good evening.

This is my first blog entry. After an on-off relationship with DeviantArt and several half-hearted subscriptions to various 'creative' circle websites I figured it might be best to start afresh. Again.

After a fairly unproductive day (though numerous attempts at beating a smug computer-animated moo named Angelina on Nintendo DS Scrabble and the beginnings of an essay plan are not to be sniffed at) I am sitting in my room in low light listening to Porcupine Tree. They are rather good, and thus join the list of my current favourite music. For those that are interested, it consists of the following:

*Golden Silvers
*Pretty much anything Zane Lowe plays on his show
*Porcupine Tree
*Eugene McGuinness
*Four Tet
*Joy Division
*The Skids

Ahem. So, to the purpose of this blog. I intend to post photos (new found 'hobby' thanks to the gift of a rather nice camera for my birthday) and also some of my poetry, which has been festering and collecting cyber dust in the folder marked 'My Writing' on my laptop.

As a reward for reading this, here's a new one I wrote yesterday.

You sat quite contentedly
Recounting the time when
Your network failed.

It let you down.
In a way that your etched skin mural
Never will.

A piece of your heart died
And there were engineering works
Biro spiral springs to hold open tunnels.

Luckily for me, my scanning was insufficient
And the bit that ceased to work
Was not the part concerned with me.

If you have never listened to Lazarus by Porcupine Tree, then do. You will thank me for it.

Best wishes xxx