Expelling My Thoughts

It's now feeling a little more like it may actually happen again. I'm not worrying about it so much now, I feel like I have a bit more of an answer. We never used to text everyday. Today we texted for hours. I feel like I'm getting to know you better. I'm seeing you Saturday, despite my better judgments and the wise words of my flatmate. I want to see you, I want to avoid words and show not tell. But is this what I really want? Do I just want the feeling you give me? Because I really don't want to break you and her up. I want a bit of fun but what if you want more than that? I don't know. We'll have to see what happens on Saturday. Maybe it'll be completely innocent, back to being just really good friends. But I can't help but feel that history is repeating itself. I wish I knew why my life has to be such a massive deja vu of itself. Around this time two years ago I remember feeling all the same things with somebody else. Somebody who turned out to be a huge part of my life. What if the same thing happens again? I remember sitting in the common room, catching her eye just like I caught yours. Wondering if anyone would see us, just like Friday. Knowing fully well that she had a girlfriend, everything is exactly the same. It really scares me how similar the situations are, and how similar the feelings I get are. I just wish I had the answers to all the questions that keep floating around my head. I wonder when they will all be answered. I hope it's soon. But yes, today has contained a great deal of progression. I feel a bit more sure of the situation now. You've surprised me, I never thought you'd do anything like this. But am I complaining? Of course not.

Postsecret - 31/10/10

It's that time of week again.. Sunday equals Postsecret day. Click here to check out this week's secrets. Once again I'm a bit late, I've only just looked at them, but my secret was really easy to pick out this week.

As you may or may not already know, I am obsessed with Grey's Anatomy. In fact I have the poster of the picture on this postcard in my room. I am completely guilty of using Grey's quotes as my own. I haven't done it so much recently, but this has been my secret since about January 2007, when I first started watching the show. They are ridiculously clever, and there is always a quote that's appropriate for any situation that you might find yourself in. I'm not sure whether anyone I've ever used a line from Grey's on has ever repeated it, but I've definitely never been caught out. It's probably because I know episodes off by heart, and I use obscure quotes. Once upon a time I tried to go a whole day using only Grey's Anatomy quotes, but I don't think I made it. I reckon if I really tried I could though. I wish I could write as cleverly as the writers of Grey's do. They are geniuses. 'The thing people forget is how good it can feel when you finally set secrets free. Whether good or bad, at least they're out in the open. And once your secrets are out in the open, you don't have to hide behind them anymore. The problem with secrets is even when you think you're in control, you're not.'

This is a secret from May 2005. I would say that this is almost my secret, as mine is very slightly different. My secret would be 'I pretend to listen to my ipod, but I'm actually eavesdropping on your conversation'. A lot of the time when I had my headphones in, if I heard a murmur of voices, I'd turn the volume right down, to see if the conversation was about anything interesting. If it was, I'd press the pause button, and listen intently to the conversation, and nobody knew I could hear. I heard a number of other people's secrets over the years by doing this. It did have it's drawbacks however, as now if I see someone with headphones in, I always wonder if they're actually listening to music, or if in fact they're listening to me.

Distraction Of The Mind

Okay I can't stop thinking about it. You're distracting me and you don't even know you're doing it. What if something could have happened, but me coming back home has ruined all possibilities. Has something begun? Or did it just happen, a one off? All I know is that I'm trying to read a ridiculously boring short story and technically analyse it, but I can't. Mainly because you're on my mind. This is one of the things I hate most about myself, my inability to let things go. It was one insignificant night, why can't I think of it that way? Why can't I forget it altogether?

All the things she said, running through my head.

I thought coming home would help me to forget and move on, and granted, I've not been here 24 hours yet, but it's still on my mind all the time. I really hope it passes, or else how will I be able to be friends with my friends again? I really need to stop thinking about it. I need something else to consume my thoughts. And not just for the benefit of my uni work that's due in tomorrow. For my sanity. But I can't help reliving it over and over. I need to know what will happen when I see you next. I can't wait til the moment comes around. I need to know. But I can't ask. Oh but waiting is agony.

Interfering With Nature?

Back home, watching episodes of Grey's Anatomy that I haven't watched in far too long. Kristina reminded me of this episode a while back, and I didn't bother to look up the episode number, so I've only just got around to watching it, and it was by chance that it came on, because I just picked a random dvd from season two. The clocks go back tonight, I've watched my clock tick over to 1am twice tonight. It's so strange when that happens. I like how the government are clearly so powerful that they can CHANGE TIME. They can make there be two 1ams in a day. A 25 hour day. And in spring, they can make the whole hour between midnight and 1am disappear. A day with only 23 hours. That's some serious power. They can make the days longer, or shorter, decide what time the sun rises and sets. How did we let them gain so much power? That's interfering with nature... surely. I heard that they were thinking of making British Summer Time +2 hours instead of just +1, just so that we could have more time in the sun. Not that British summers actually have sun. But to elongate the day. Do we not have more pressing issues that need attention? Are there not murders, wars, scandals and neglect that need dealing with? Environmental issues? Education worries? Granted, it may benefit some activities, materialistic activities such as sport and retails. But on the other hand it complicates issues such as medical equipment, travel and sleep patterns amongst others. I do realise that I'm going off on a bit of a political rant here, and I do realise that I started this by talking about Grey's Anatomy, but sometimes my focus just shifts. I like it when that happens though, when my writing veers off in a new direction, a direction I hadn't even thought of when I started writing. Anyway. I'm home now, home home, not halls home. So I'm going to take advantage of the politically stupid extra hour of sleep, and snuggle up in a bed that's not as hard as lying on a table. Goodnight!

So Many Questions

That kiss that lasted too long, and we probably shouldn't have danced to that song. It was nothing, it was everything, it's really such a shame, it's so hard to explain.

These lyrics sum up how I feel. They've been dancing around my mind for hours. I can't stop thinking about it. I know I'm thinking about it more than you are. But everything makes a little more sense now. The 'friends kiss' in Wetherspoons, the text 'you're fit, trust'.. Maybe I'm reading too far into it, I probably am. I don't know. What have I done? If I don't mention it will it happen again? If I do mention it, will it ruin everything? Do you even remember? Will we ever be able to go back to how we were? You've been texting me more than usual. I've been replying. But you just sent me 'Still, at least the night turned out good ay'. It did. It turned out to be so much more than just good. How do I reply? I want to say 'Yeah, it turned out good'. Or maybe even 'It turned out great'. And make sure I add a smiley face. But is that too forward? Are you trying to say something by that? I don't know what to say. Maybe you don't remember, maybe you were so drunk that you have no recollection whatsoever. I just keep remembering things. Remembering the way you looked at me. It must have meant something. It must have. It's been a very long time since somebody has looked at me like that. I shouldn't be thinking about this so much. And I definitely shouldn't be going through pictures of you. What is wrong with me? There are so many questions whizzing around my head, so many thoughts, so many possibilities. I'm going to text you back now. Haven't decided what to say yet though. Maybe the pause will mean something. Gosh.

Jigsaw Puzzles

It's all a bit I got in at six in the morning. It's all a bit out of tune. It's all a bit jumbled up and nothing quite fits back into place. It's like when you drop a jigsaw puzzle and it's so hard to fit everything back together. It takes time. Listening to Mat Kearney, trying to sort out this puzzly mess in my head. I need to tidy. My room and my brain. File all my thoughts away in appropriate places. At the moment it's as if each thought has been fired from a paintball gun and the sides of my skull. I feel like staying in bed all day long and listening to beautiful music. My head is confused, but not as much as my heart. Amy Kuney's music comes in handy in these situations. One song in particular, the second song of her's I ever heard. Thank you for last night. And not just for what went on for our eyes only, but for stopping me from leaving, stopping me from storming out and probably heading home to self destruct a little more. When I say thank you I mean so much more. I wonder how long it will take to fit my puzzle back together. Perhaps there are a few pieces missing so it can never be corrected fully. But at least I have words today, which makes a change. I've got so many words that I can't decide which order to arrange them in.

Seeing People In New Lights

Isn't it strange when you feel like you know somebody, but then you see them in a whole new light. From a whole different perspective. Last night, I saw three people differently. And not just marginally differently.. completely 100% differently. The first scenario contained someone who I had feelings for, who hurt me. I saw her in such a completely different way after that. Before I'd have wanted to hang on her every word, follow her around like a puppy and dance too close to her. She cried after what she did to me last night but I didn't care, I didn't want to know. I still don't. I give up with her, she's mental, and not in a good way. My view of her has completely changed. I'm pretty sure I'm not interested at all anymore. Maybe not even interested in having her as a friend. I can't deal with her. But this situation was made a whole lot better by the second scenario. This one concerns someone who has been an amazing friend to me ever since I met her; even the first night she rang me up and stayed on the phone to me for half an hour whilst I walked home. She's always been an excellent friend, who I think is hot, but I never would have acted on it. But my view of her completely changed as well. Probably not forever, but I wonder if I'll ever look at her in the same way again. I saw potential for something that could happen but shouldn't. My mind was completely blown. It was exciting, it was dangerous. It was everything that I had never imagined. I'd never even dared to think about thinking about it. And now I'm left here wondering if it will ever happen again. I don't know is the answer. And the third scenario. This involves a girl who I've also always seen as a great friend. But last night I felt like I was betraying her. I saw a whole new dimension to her; before she'd been confident and sure of herself, last night she seemed vulnerable. Did she know? Had she seen me holding her girlfriend's hand behind her back? I did a bad thing. I don't know how else to put it. But it was so good. I don't want to hurt her, I really like her as a friend, I don't want to do anything to hinder our friendship, which is the same as scenario two. Scenario one I've given up caring about. But what does it all mean? Did scenario two tell the truth? Did she mean it? Does she remember it all now? How am I supposed to answer all these questions for myself? I feel like we should talk about it but how? How did this happen? I've never been so confused in my life. Hmmm.

Erm

I've just got in. It really is stupid o'clock, stupid being six. Six in the morning. Tonight. Oh my god. Tonight things turned upside down and inside out, and tangled themselves up beyond repair. I never expected anything that happened tonight to happen. Firstly, Erica broke something of mine. On purpose. And it was the straw that broke the camel's back. I wanted to leave, I wanted to get as far away from her and that place and everyone as I could, as quickly as I could. But like before, Izzie came straight to my rescue. Calmed me down and stopped my tears. We sat and talked for a while outside, and I told her what I'd been dying to tell her for so long; the way I felt about Erica. I'm not sure that she really understood, but I'm sure she tried. Once I'd calmed down enough to go back inside, we went to get a drink, and Izzie was still asking me lots of questions about my feelings for Erica. She asked me why I thought there was no chance of anything ever happening between Erica and I, and I replied with the obvious, because she has a girlfriend. And then something strange but beautiful happened. Izzie said that she liked me even though she had a girlfriend. I immediately assumed that she was saying this to try and cheer me up. But by the way the rest of the night unfolded, I realised she was telling the truth. We danced, her arm around me, my hand on her back to begin with, but hands wandered and fingers interlocked. Holding hands behind her back, out of view of everybody else. Hands were on breasts, bums, backs of necks. Long, lingering looks. Eye contact lasted for far, far too long. Sitting down, holding each other so tightly, and then. Then. She kissed me. Or I kissed her. It wasn't either of us, it was both of us. It only lasted a second, but it was the most sensuous kiss I've ever experienced. It was slow, warm. It wasn't desperate, it was surreptitious. Hidden. Nobody knew it even happened. But us. Those looks, sent ripples straight through me. I wasn't sure how many more I could take. Before tonight I thought she was attractive. Now I'm left confused, amazed, in shock? All I know is that I want to hold her hand again. I feel bad. I feel terrible. But I feel amazing. Perhaps that should've been the other way around. I don't know. I never know.

Wondering

Just took my socks off to get in the shower to find that there was another pair of socks underneath them. I know I got dressed without the light on this morning, but I seriously need some sleep. I've been doing stupid things all day. Some days are just like that, it's like my head's not screwed on properly or something. I'm always wondering where sayings like that originated from. I also wondered about dreams. I had a really strange dream last night. I wonder what it is that triggers the subject of a dream, what triggers the characters that appears and what triggers what they do and say. It's so strange. Imagine if what we dream was real life and when we're awake was the dreams. Anyway. Enough wondering for one evening, got to get ready to go out. Have a nice evening everyone :)

Ramblings

Reading week has started! I'm so happy, I really need a break. I'm fed up of this cursed flat where Wednesday's always attract the Emergency Services, and I can't work properly here since the fire. I have so much work to do, something due in on Monday, two things due in next Monday. Ergh. Supposed to be going out tonight, and I do want to, despite my tiredness, but forever lingering in the back of my mind is the amount of work I should be doing instead. I've hardly had time to blog. I need to tidy, I need to think but there is not enough time. Time management, I should have done a degree in that instead. I want to talk to friends, friends I haven't seen in far too long. I want to sleep. But tonight I'm going to a Halloween party that I should've started getting ready for already but I felt like I should blog. There are words in my head that needed to come out and I thought I'd be kind and set them free. I planned to do work this afternoon, but I've had a brief look at the instructions then given up. Tomorrow I'm going home for a week, which will be so refreshing. It's also my great-grandad's 101st birthday... Wowieeee, so we're having a party for him. It's also Kirstie's 19th.. everyone's getting so old! It's such a long time til my birthday, but I like being a summer baby. I finish uni before my birthday next year I think so I won't have any exams or anything to worry about. Shower time now, then I need to dress up as a cat. Popstars here I come!

Nostalgia

I remember lying there in that hospital bed, wondering each day if today would be the day she'd visit. She never did, and with every second that she didn't make the effort to be there, my heart broke a little more. I've only just realised, three years on, that it wasn't her fault; I just needed somebody to blame. I don't have anybody to blame these days. If it happened again I do't know who I'd be longing for a visit from. I wonder if anybody would notice if I vanished. I wonder if anyone would visit. If anybody would care if history repeated itself. Who knows? I can't predict the future. It's like when you wonder if anybody would actually attend your funeral. I do wonder. Not that there would be nobody there.. but who would actually come. I don't know. I'll carry on thinking this out loud later on. Peace out for now.

Analogies

I had so much to say that I had to write it down in my own way. It was paper that had been written on before, but in different corners of the page. I wrote over words that had been written years ago, a long, long time ago in a different world. New words, clearer words, words with different meanings to those written before. I will remember these words now though, now they're written down for my eyes only to see. I probably should have written on a blank canvas, I probably shouldn't have written at all. But writing feels good. I wrote longer words than I'm used to, outdid my previous scribbles and note-takings. But not as many words as I'm capable of. Maybe one day I'll write an entire novel. Maybe one day I'll write and write and write until I am no more. I wrote through the anger, I wrote through the tears that have returned. I cried until the tears dried up, until I shook, until everything ached. I feel drained in more than one sense of the word. But I feel like I should keep writing, carve words into the paper with all my remaining strength until it rips. I feel like I could write forever. Pages and pages of thoughts and feelings that can never be erased. Irresponsible writing that can be read by others should I wish to share, but never understood. My own secret words. In my own secret language.

Why don't you be the writer and decide the words I say?

Back To Blogging

I haven't been keeping up with my blogging. I've been so busy with uni work. Suddenly a whole swarm of assignments have descended on me and I'm fighting to keep above sea level. I really meant to blog last night, but I was up until 3am reading a short story I had to comment on and completing a letter writing exercise where I had to write in the voice of one of the characters in the story. It wouldn't have been so bad if I hadn't needed to be up at half seven to be in uni for 9am. I also had to memorise 100 words from the reading for this week and read it out in my seminar today. Luckily, with my freakish memory I pulled it off word for word, but my letter exercise never got checked so technically I stayed up until stupid o'clock for no reason. However, on the brighter side, I didn't fall asleep in my lecture today! I usually do in my 9am Wednesday lectures so yay! I've been working really hard today as well, had quite a lot of exercises to do in the lectures and seminar today, and also I had to read Lies of Silence by Brian Moore. Bearing in mind that I was on page 60 when I woke up this morning, I think I've done quite a stunning job since I've read all 251 pages now, by quarter to nine. Impressive I'd say! I really enjoyed the book but it has a horrible ending! Not quite as horrible as Letters from the Inside, which I think I'll review on here at some point when I'm not as bogged down with work. Right now I'm drinking homemade Cherry Coke, and when I say homemade, I mean I mixed Sainsbury's Coke with Sainsbury's Cherryade, et voila. It's better than either of them by themselves at least. And costs about 60p for four litres, which you really can't argue with. Given up on work for today, I'm drained. Settling for a night in with Hollyoaks and The Million Pound Drop, soaps and gameshows that I've grown too fond of since I've been here. I now regret saying that I had nothing to do here. Suddenly I've got so much to do that I'm struggling to picture when I'll have time to do it all. I'm supposed to be going back home on Saturday for a week, but I've got an assignment due in on Monday... which hinders my plans. I suppose I'll figure it out. Well I bloody well hope so.

Indirect Messages

I really like indirect messages. I suppose it's similar to my love of private jokes. It's the times in front hundreds of people when it's only you and that person who understand the words being said that are the greatest. I often wonder the extent of our indirect messaging, I wonder how many of them are aimed at me, and I sometimes wonder when I indirectly reply whether the original message was aimed at me in the first place. I don't want to make a fool of myself by replying to something that wasn't aimed at me.. so sometimes it might seem to you that I don't see your indirect messages. I do. See now I'm wondering if I'm writing this for no reason, because what you said wasn't to me in the first place. And I'm also thinking that this might be pointless because you might never read this. If I was more confident I'd send you more indirect messages.. I find them really interesting. I also wish I was fluent in sign language. Or I could lip read. I'm nosy like that, I just think it would be really interesting. So I'm going to finish here, wondering if you'll ever read this or know what I'm talking about. Maybe it'll go right over your head and we'll never say anything more about it, simply settling for a small indirect message, a lyric, a few words, every so often, lost in the mass of other words we use.

Blog of the Week! - 25/10/10

Finally got around to writing my Blog of the Week for this week. Since I need cheering up a bit, I've opted for an amusing blog this week... Failblog! You can visit it by clicking here. It's a collection of funny images and videos showing the stupidity of the human race. Go and have a look and cheer up your immature side!
Comment with your own blog links if you want to be considered for Blog of the Week! :)

Postsecret... A Day Late

Firstly... apologies for the lateness of this blog, I know I said it would be a Sunday thing and usually it will, I just forgot this week. Anyway, as I write this I haven't even looked at this week's Postsecrets yet, so I'm going to look at them now, then write this blog properly.

Okay so I've read the Postsecrets. I wouldn't say that any of them are 'my' secret this week, but here's one that's quite topical.


So I never actually wished that my house would catch on fire, but I've often wondered what I would grab if it did. Back home, if I could have taken five things, I would have grabbed my pet rabbit, my signed Nerina things, my laptop, photos from the kitchen and the parrot. And my toy cat I've had since I was a baby. That's six but I can't sacrifice any of them. I really had to think about that. This is quite a topical secret for me, because as you may know, our flat caught fire last week. And the reality was that in the heat of the moment (excuse the pun) I didn't actually grab anything, even though two of the above were in my room. I think I trusted the fire door not to let the fire spread to my room. But I didn't even think. I didn't pause for long enough to even put shoes on. But I would never wish that my house would catch fire; even more so after experiencing a fire where I live.

Every week I will go through the Postsecret archives and find a secret that is 'my secret', and post it here. This is a secret from May 2008, which has been my secret for almost a year. It's been my secret since I started looking at University courses on UCAS. When I set my heart on a Creative Writing course, I began to worry about my future after I finish my degree. With a Business Studies degree, or Journalism, there's a future laid out on a platter in front of you. But with English Language and Communication and Creative Writing, I worry that I won't know where to turn after my degree. Once again this is a secret that didn't mean anything to me when it was posted, but now it really does. Back in those days I dreamt of being a surgeon, which is still in the back of my mind, but now my real dream is to be a writer. But it hardly works out for anyone... does it?

I Am Useless

I am useless at keeping promises. I was meant to do a Postsecret blog yesterday and a Blog of the week today, which I had completely forgotten about til now. I haven't even looked at this weeks Postsecrets! That's got to be a first for me. Once again I've had a wholly unproductive day, haven't even been outside the flat. Apparently I have a letter but I haven't had the motivation to go and get it yet. Wish post would just be posted through the door, like a regular flat. This evening everyone was in the kitchen, for the first time in ages. We can't eat around the table again yet, because of the amount of junk on it, so we ate around the work service. It was awkward but funny. I just did all my filing, and now my work is all in order. I'm so much more organised here at uni than I was in sixth form. And I actually do my work now, which is new. I've got some work to do for Creative Writing for Wednesday, which I'll do between blogs. I've also got to memorise a passage of 100 words from this week's reading and read it out in my seminar. Not feeling that at all. I've got quite a good memory but I get nervous when reading out loud. Suppose I should actually do this week's reading, that'd be a good start. Expect more blogs later, including a Postsecret blog and a Blog of the week. I will get round to it, I promise.

Just Incase You Were Feeling Nosy

It's nearly half two in the morning, I want to blog but there's not much to blog about at this time. So I'm going to blog about the windows I have open on my laptop!

Firstly there's Tweetdeck. It's a program I use for twitter, which I am admittedly 100% addicted to. Follow me on twitter, I'm @missfranklin .

Then we have good old Firefox. I'm rubbish at closing tabs, so there's loads open.

• Blogspot! The first tab is my blog, on the view that you all see.
  
• Blogspot again! On the posts page; I was adding tags to a couple of my blogs earlier because I keep forgetting to do it.
• Google! Was just looking up whether 'learnt' or 'learned' was the correct term. I'm boring like that :)
• Facebook! It's just always there in the background. I don't use it as much anymore. Twitter's pretty much taken over.
• Blogspot...again! This is the tab that I'm writing this is now.
  
• A game called Ancient Jewels. It's basically Bejeweled but a tiny bit more complicated.
• Sainsbury's Opening times. Didn't know what time it closed on a Sunday, went to get some bits that didn't require the cooker to prepare earlier.
  
• Twitcam. Was watching Shabby and her band Voodoo Hussy the other night. They were completely wasted, it was priceless!
  
• Youtube. Rickie Lee Jones - Skeletons. Absolutely love that song.
  
• Thesaurus.com - Essential for a budding writer. I use the word ominous too much, so was looking up antonyms.
• Twitter. Not really sure why that's up when I have Tweetdeck running. I think I was checking the trending topics.

So that's it. It's now ten to three, and I'm still bored. La la laaaa.

I Think I Found Some Words

There is one thing I love more than anything else about living in halls. You can go downstairs, go outside at any hour of the day or night, and there will be someone to talk to. Someone interesting. I just went outside for a smoke, and found myself chatting to a guy called Aaron. Immediately we bonded over a love of menthol filters, and then over a love of Grey's Anatomy. There we were, laughing about plotlines and going over characters and their affairs. It ended up in a Grey's Anatomy trivia quiz, which I won, of course. My questions were superior: 'What is the full name of Bailey's baby?' William George Bailey Jones, of course! 'What time did Denny Duquette die?' 7:42 pm, obviously. His were far too blatant, I answered them all correctly: 'What was Derek's wife's name?' Addison Forbes Montgomery Sheppard. 'Which wire did Izzie cut that almost ended her surgical career?' Denny's LVAD wire. It was so much fun, and I maintain the fact that if I were ever to be on Mastermind, Grey's would be my specialist subject. He was moaning at me because I haven't got onto season 6 or 7 yet; I just haven't had the time since I've been here at uni. I just made a new friend. I never found it easy to make friends back home, but here I've been doing quite well. I've definitely surpassed my own expectations anyway. So I think I found some words, I can write freely for the first time today. Except it's not really today.. it's 2:12am, it's tomorrow. I'm so, so glad I have Mondays off. I've been writing this blog for over a week now, and I've written as much as I have done in multiple months on my previous blogs. I'm definitely a little older, but a little wiser, in writing terms at least. Days when I can't write are made up for with the days that I can. When I reached writers blog on my old blogs, I just stopped. So I'm a little wiser. With age comes wisdom. And with wisdom, comes fatigue. :)

Words And Tears

It's amazing how long you can stare at a blank screen without any thoughts worth writing down entering your mind. Today has been a bad day for writing. I've sat here, eyes fixed on the white, empty space before my eyes, banging my head backwards into the wall repeatedly without bruise or positive effect. There are no words in the front of my head as there usually are. Where have my words gone? Where have they flown off to? Where have they crawled away to? Maybe my words were so alive that they upped and left. I'd also like to know where my tears have gone since I can't cry anymore. Maybe they ran away together and found a better life somewhere obscure and far away. I hope I get them back one day, perhaps they'll return together. I hope they do.

A Lost Battle Isn't Worth Fighting

Today I'm back to square one. Yesterday I felt better but today I feel down again. Been in bed most of the day watching television and eating cheese and crackers. Can't wait til this week is over and I can go home. Although I will miss Laura, Jen and Yaz, and the flat mates. Last night was really beautiful. We went to the vigil in Trafalgar Square and lit candles in the bitter cold. The Policewoman from Lip Service was there and presented the whole thing. My candle kept going out in the breeze, I took it to mean something spiritual, which it probably wasn't. After the vigil we went down to the Thames and climbed up onto a bridge and lit lanterns that flew way up into the sky until they were meek specks of light in the distance, in memory of those who lost their lives due to hate crime. It was really beautiful.

I have been writing this for a number of hours now. I guess I lost my inspiration. I'm definitely down again. And the worst part is, I don't know how to bring myself up again. I don't know how to get back to normality. I want to give up. I don't know what I want, but I don't want to try anymore. It's such a battle, and I'm fed up of losing it.

Soho Square

Typed up from earlier.

For the first time in many months I am home. Not home where I was brought up, or home where I live now, but home where I feel like I belong. And feel comfortable. Home in the tranquility of Soho Square. The trees are swaying gently and whispering in the breeze; there is only the very slight murmur of chatter and traffic. I wish I lived in one of the towering buildings surrounding the square, it would be so convenient. I'd get so much done. I'd be writing around the clock. It's such an inspiring little place here. It's bang in the middle of central London, but it's comparably it's so quiet. I'm writing about Annabelle and Charlie, some fictional characters I've been writing about for a while, at the moment, and Yaz just texted me with an idea for a new story, so I've started that. I've written a couple of pages, it's turned into quite a sordid tale. But I like it. It's different to my usual stuff. I've been sitting here thinking, and trying to sort my head out. It really needs sorting out, but I'm beginning to feel a little bit better. I've been so tense since the fire. Going to the vigil at Trafalgar Square later, in memory of Ian Baynham who was murdered there last year. It's basically a big anti-hate-crime thing. I'm really starting to fill my notebook up now. It's great flicking through all the pages of my writing.. I can't decide whether I like full notebooks or empty notebooks better. Anyway. Back to writing stories. I'm too inspired for simply blogging.

Thoughts on the train

I've just left Surbiton station, on my way to Waterloo. I planed on reading Lies of Silence by Brian Moore but the scenery beyond the window pane is too good to miss. I've previously only done this journey in the dark and I like to know where I'm going. After reading Loitering with Intent by Muriel Spark I have a new obsession: looking at people's faces. I look at them and I wonder if they could be the characters in a story that I haven't yet dreamt up. It's just building on my love of people watching really. The sky looks like it's about to split apart and rain for twenty years right now. The clouds are low and a dreary grey colour. We're just travelling past the biggest graveyard I've seen in my life. I don't know what I want done with my body when I die. I can't imagine ever knowing. Pins and needles. Needles and pins.

To London

Tomorrow I think I'll go into London. Do some reading, and some writing, and try and sort my head out. Soho Square always seems to have an uncanny way of doing that for me. I don't know what time I'm going, and I don't know exactly what I'm going to do, I'm throwing my plans out of the window for a day. The vigil is in the evening so I'll be going to that I think. Kristina's coming to Kingston for an open day and I want to be here in case she comes to see halls, but I also want to go to London. Decisions. This is going to be a mini blog because I'm really tired. This is the first time I've genuinely been tired since the fire, so I'm going to take advantage of it. It has been a productive day of blogging. I think I managed to successfully transform emotion into creativity. Which was exactly my aim :)

The Fire Part 2 - What Actually Happened

I finally feel comfortable to write this. This is an account of the events of Wednesday 20th October.

I fell asleep watching Hollyoaks at about 8pm. At half past I was awoken by my flatmate Michaela banging my door down screaming 'FIRE!'. I opened the door and she seemed obviously panicked wandered out into the corridor in my hoody and joggers, blinking, bleary-eyed. I was hit immediately by the choking cloud of smoke that filled the corridor that traveled straight to the back of my throat and made me cough. I was in a daze, not really understanding the situation, until Michaela said 'Look' as we hurried past the kitchen, which I did, only to be greeted with a roaring blaze that filled the room. With that we left as quickly as we could, and I don't even remember running down the stairs. The next thing I recall is standing outside, shoeless, frozen, staring up at our third floor kitchen, illuminated with the glow of the fire blazing away. We could see the flames from the ground, and smoke poured out of the window. At some point the fire alarm had started going off, but I don't remember the exact moment when that happened. I just stood with Michaela, and a growing crowd of people, watching the evacuation of the building. Everyone began with annoyed frowns on their faces as they exited the door, turning to gasping countenances as the realisation that it was a real fire set in. Hundreds of people stood with me, shivering, as we watched the ominous red glow from the kitchen window grow brighter, then more clouded as the smoke particles multiplied. At some point I had to borrow somebody's inhaler as a mixture of smoke and stress gave me an athsma attack. I subconsciously noted that every time there had been an un-fire-related alarm go off, the fire engines had arrived in a matter of seconds. This time it seemed to take an age, which was ironic, because we actually needed them this time. Two burly security guards ran towards the building and sprinted up the stairs and we watched their shadows in the kitchen, fighting the fury of the fire and smoke to attempt to extinguish it. After many failed attempts, and the flames growing exponentially, they managed to put the fire out. The kitchen grew dark suddenly, lit by the only remaining intact light. It had a toxic grey tinge to the once-white walls, and I prayed that the damage wasn't too bad. The fire brigade finally arrived, and more firemen than I could count ascended the two staircases and paraded into what was left of our kitchen. From the murky puddles left in the aftermath I take it that they hosed the remains of the fire out. I found myself telling strangers what had happened, how my flat mate Mohammed had been deep-frying chips and the fat had got hot and spontaneously combusted. I then told how another of my flatmates Josh had thrown the fire blanket over the flames, which in turn caught fire and made everything ten times worse. After a few repetitions of the tale it became second nature and I didn't have to think about the words that were coming out of my mouth.

We were left outside in the bitter cold for multiple hours, and finally the rest of our block were let back into the building. We remained outside, but once deemed safe enough we were allowed to return, but only quickly, to retrieve keys and shoes. And I'd never imagined it could be that bad. The walls were sooty black. The ceiling was blacker. The cupboard doors were peeling. The kettle cord had burnt right through. The oven top was black all over. The fridge door had melted out of shape. The light had melted and fallen from the ceiling. It was a mess. And the stench was rancid. I'd never smelt anything like it. It was smoke, burning plastic, and burning wood, and burning fat, all rolled into one, but worse. The corridor walls were grey. I took a finger and stroked it down the wall, uncovering the original colour but blackening my finger. The whole flat was disgustingly warm, hot not humid. Even my room stank. We were led back outside again and the fire brigade were leaving. We were told the flat needed to air and we could go back in an hour or so. By the time we were let back in it was about midnight. The windows were all open and the heat from an hour ago was mixing with the cold of the night. It's two days later now. I'm haunted, not sleeping right, afraid it'll happen again. We can't use the kitchen, at the smell still hits me hard every time I open the door. It's just one of those things you think will never happen to you. But it did.

My Top 10 iTunes Tracks

1. Starry Eyed - Ellie Goulding
2. The Call - Regina Spektor
3. Idaho - Nerina Pallot
4. First Train Home - Imogen Heap
5. Turn To Stone - Ingrid Michaelson
6. Neopolitan Dreams - Lisa Mitchell
7. Put It Back Together Again - Diana Vickers
8. Break Up At The Disco - Nerina Pallot
9. The Chain - Ingrid Michaelson
10. Half Life - Imogen Heap

Skeleton Key EP - Nerina Pallot : REVIEW

Skeleton Key is Nerina Pallot's third (and in my opinion greatest) EP to date. It went on sale in April 2010, and Pallot has called this her 'most thematically linked EP so far'.

Wolf And I 4:33
And So It Should 3:07
Break Up At The Disco 3:25
Is This A Low? 5:56
Skeletons 3:31



The opening track is 'Wolf and I', the only track I'd heard prior to the release of the EP via the 'I Don't Want to Go Out' sessions that Nerina broadcasts on ustream on Monday nights at 9pm. I had heard the song played on the piano, but the EP version contains spooky electronic backing music, a haunting drum beat and eerie intertwining backing vocals. The first line bears reference to the final track on the EP, a cover of 'Skeletons' originally by Rickie Lee Jones; 'I dream of a song from 1981'. Fans of Nerina didn't find out the true meaning of 'Wolf and I' until September 2010 when Nerina gave birth to a beautiful baby boy nicknamed 'Wolfie', and the lyrics finally revealed a whole new meaning. This song shows a whole new side to Pallot that we have not witnessed before showing thoughts about motherhood, fears during pregnancy and life with child. 'Wolf and I' is such an honest song, and this contributes magnificently to the overall beauty of it. This really is an excellent opening track.

'And So It Should' is the second track on the EP. This is a really wonderful acoustic guitar track, capturing some of the most prominent worries that growing up entails. It is also a tale of wanting more from life. The song begins rather quietly but as Pallot's voice grows stronger, the track brings in piano and backing vocals. 'And So It Should' contains some of Pallot's finest lyrics to date, including 'cast like a stone in the deepest blue, rolling oblivious 'til I came to', and 'blinded by beauty that I have seen, in this world we've never been', and of course, the repeated line that acts as a sort of chorus: 'My heart cries out for more, and so it should'. The lyrics suggest that Pallot is secretly hoping for more from life. I absolutely adore this song; it shows a slightly darker side to Pallot than the album released six months before this EP, 'The Graduate'.


The third track on the EP is the fantastically upbeat 'Break Up At The Disco'. Pop takes over completely in this song, I feel like it's something I ought to have danced to in the 90's. This is my favourite track on the EP for a number of reasons, including the ingenious lyrics. Some of my favourites are 'I don't lose but this ain't winning, take me back to the beginning, I've just about had, just about had just, just about had enough', and 'when I said I was open-minded, what did I know'. Also, the widely used repetition creates a great effect that adds to the excellence of the track. The electronic beat works perfectly with Pallot's strong vocals and this really positive song makes me smile every time. The 'so what?!' attitude that Pallot portrays here gives us a different perspective from her usual sombre and melancholy song-writing; which is a warmly welcomed change. It's almost too good for an EP, and I still have my fingers crossed that it will make Pallot's fourth album. There's a reason why this is one of my top 10 most played tracks on iTunes.

Track 4 on the EP is 'Is This A Low?'. This track is something entirely new that we haven't seen from Pallot before. Nerina herself described this EP as some of her darkest work, and that is displayed overpoweringly in 'Is This A Low?'. What a contrast from the tracks on the 'Junebug' EP and Pallot's third album 'The Graduate'! The strong guitar contrasts with the softer voice that Pallot uses on this track. The lyrics tell a story of depression and low emotions and confusion. This song shows a more experimental side to Pallot's work, demonstrating all sorts of ideas that we have not seen from her before; however it reminds me somewhat of a song that would fit into 'Dear Frustrated Superstar, Pallot's first album quite nicely. The closest song of Pallot's that I could compare it to is 'If I Know You'. A very 'different' track, but beautiful in it's own right.

The final track on the EP is the previously mentioned cover of 'Skeletons' by Rickie Lee Jones. The first word that springs to mind is 'beautiful'. Such beautiful vocals from Pallot, laying on top of delicate piano. This track especially demonstrates Pallot's abilities as a vocalist, as she is not the lyricist here. The song tells the tale of a pregnant woman whose husband gets mistaken for a criminal and shot whilst they are on the way to the hospital to give birth, based on a real story. I believe that this is a track that Nerina would not have been able to put her heart and soul into had she not experienced pregnancy and such worries herself. Such a beautiful track that is so different to Jones' original, but so similar at the same time.



This EP is a masterpiece of creative ideas and insanely brilliant music. This is a great album to listen to if you want to hear something a little different and a lot darker than Nerina's usual music. Recommended to anyone who enjoys music from Nerina Pallot and is interested to hear to new ideas that are presented in this much deeper and darker, but equally brilliant EP.

Sky blue pink

Maybe the reason I'm feeling so down at the moment is because my plans have been changed so much this week. I blogged earlier in the week about plans, and how much I use them to control my life. And this week everything has gone straight out of the window. I'm not going to the cinema today, which is a change of my plans... but to be honest I'm grateful to have a night in with the television for company ahead of me. My plans have been messed up so much this week that I just want to crawl into bed and sleep for...ever? For a long time at least. Until the kitchen is fixed and the stench has gone and I can pretend that nothing ever happened. Or at least attempt that. It's just the sort of thing that you think will never happen to you. I'm exhausted but I haven't really done anything strenuous. Mental exhaustion perhaps. It's odd how much easier I find it to write when I'm feeling low. The words just flow better. I'd like to be lost in my own little world right now but instead I'm stuck in this one feeling lost. I don't know if I'm hungry, or if I'm thirsty, or if I'm anything. Not knowing seems to be a recurring factor in my life at the moment. I want to be in a magical land. A land where I can control what happens, sort of like a dream, but easier. I want to be in a world where the sky is sky blue pink all day and all night and there is no such thing as a problem. Take me there?

Despair?

Last night I thought about doing the bad thing again but my friends unknowingly stopped me. I have such great friends here. I should thank them but they wouldn't understand. We've not known each other long enough for them to understand and I appreciate that fact. They knew something was wrong. Actually it was 'things' plural but they didn't know that. I went to get my post from the front office this morning and the halls staff had drawn red flames all around my room number on the board. Which I suppose was funny to them, but wasn't quite as amusing to me. In fact it wasn't amusing at all. I'm finding it hard to control my emotions at the moment, which is usual, but what is unusual is that I've lost my ability to hide my feelings. I get angry and I can't help it. And I get upset but I can't hide these things at all. Last night I almost broke down in Wetherspoons. I want to scream but the walls are so thin here that it would disturb everyone. I don't know why I'm that bothered as there are always people making noise in the corridor disturbing me. I don't know. The contract cleaners came in this morning, and cleaned the walls of the kitchen. They've transformed from a sooty black to almost white, with a tinge of smoky grey. They made a pathetic attempt at the ceiling as well. Pathetic because it's still black with a couple of small sections that are a medium grey hue. They are supposed to be professionals! And the flat still reeks of smoke. Ughhhhh.

Catch Up

These are a few bits and bobs I've typed up from the last couple of days. I haven't been feeling great, been quite down, so I haven't blogged. I do realise that I haven't written The Fire part 2, but I will, trust me. But yeah, here you go...

Shell shocked, still recovering from the events of yesterday. Something tells me I will be for a long time. Sleep was agony last night; I woke up more times than I could count, then struggled to drift off again. I'm frozen to the bone after having the window open all night to air out the flat. It still absolutely stinks. My dad rang me earlier to say that he'd found a newspaper article about the fire (already!) which I had a look at. Those bastards... they beat me to it. The article isn't correct though.. it says that the chip pan was left unattended when it wasn't. I thought about commenting on the article but then thought against it. I can't be bothered. I feel so.. I don't know how I feel. Washed out, drained, lots of things to do with water, which is somewhat ironic. Ahh, I don't have the will power to write anymore. Not just now anyway.

The Fire... Part 1

Tonight there was a fire. I can't really talk about it... I'm in too much shock. I will blog about it when I feel comfortable enough to talk about it. I just stood in the shower just now, letting the water thunder on and around me, unable to move, just thinking. Thinking so many things. I think this may be the turning point. I've been mostly happy whilst I've been here, it's as if the bipolar has been on hold. But now I feel... down. That's the easiest way of putting it. I feel on edge, uneasy, not quite here. I don't know what's going on. I can't sleep, I'm too scared of the nightmares that will surely follow. Ever since I woke up to Michaela banging my door down screaming 'FIRE', and stepped out into the choking clouds of smoke that filled the corridor, I've been back in my old ways. Distant. Disorientated. Disengaged. I really don't want to go back to the depths of where I've been before, but with my condition it is inevitable. I've never felt so haunted as I did standing out in the cold, shoeless, watching the flat go up in flames. And now I feel so lost. I think it's a bit early for post-traumatic stress, but that's what it feels like. But I should know by now that I get like this. I just don't want to get lost in another week, at least, of despair and loneliness. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to think. I'm just sitting here, frowning subconciously at the putrid smell of smoke that's lingering in every room. I feel exhausted, I feel as if I should sleep but I'm so afraid. I want to stay in bed for a week and cry, unndisturbed, to my heart's content. I can't though. Lectures, seminars, assignments, effort. I feel like if I close my eyes the place might start burning down again. I'm crying now with that fear. If it does I'll stay in here, go down with the ship. I shouldn't feel so on edge but I can't help it. And it didn't help that as I stepped out of the shower the lyrics 'Fire burning, fire burning... KINGSTON' echoed eerily through the room. Sean Kingston - Fire Burning. Coincidence? It's pretty spooky if it is.

Prisms of values

None of the clocks in this place work. I'm not used to it at all; they're all stuck on the wrong time. Ever since I learnt to tel te time I have maintained an unhealthy obsession with it. I have to keep checking the clock, constantly. When I was about 8, I got into the habit of checking the clock exactly every five minutes, but without realising. I know at the time I found it amazing that every time I looked, the minute hand was on a number. Maybe it was my imaginary psychic abilities. Maybe they aren't so imaginary. I've got a ridiculous amount of pages to read for tomorrow, of The Big Sleep. Put it this way... I'm on page 60.. and there are 251 pages. So I'm nearly a quarter of the way through... poor effort. Not sure if I have the time of the will power to finish it. It is a good book, but I just read two chapters here in the library and I can't keep my eyes open. It's nothing to do with the actual content of the book, it's the lack of sleep. We were reading a passage in my Creative Writing seminar earlier.. and everyone had completely different views on the same text. I think it's so interesting that there can be so many different opinions on ideas that are essentially the same. It's intriguing that everybody reads the same words, but they see them through a prism of their own individual values. Light splits in countless directions, so there are countless different ways that a text can be received.

So that was quite an in depth ramble I just embarked on. Will get back to reading my book... and update you on the progress via here and twitter too probably.

After gratuitous amounts of alcohol

After gratuitous amounts of alcohol I am feeling all sorts of things that I shouldn't be feeling. All sorts of things that I feel whilst sober. And I write about these things. But not here. In a more private way that people can't read. Well... only people that I let read can read. I shouldn't be feeling these things because... oh there are so many reasons that I shouldn't be thinking this or feeling this. And I can't say, I can't let on what these things are because it would ruin far too many things. Friendships. Everything. Shit for a minute I thought I lost my phone but Selvi rang it and I found it. Thank fuck for friends. I have some really lovely friends here. My friends back home are so amazing too. I say back home but really they're all over the country now... they are everywhere.. Leeds, Bournemouth, Bath, Cambridge, Manchester, Norwich, Wales, Scotland, and other places that I can't recall the names of right now. I've lost track of what I was saying. I digress. In fact I've digressed so far that perhaps what I was saying isn't even relevant now. But I had a lovely evening. Amazing. Maybe not as far as amazing, but, good. Such a boring, overused adjective. Grammar. English. Some wonder how I can spell so well after such a lot of drink, but I'm such a perfectionist over spelling, I couldn't possibly let myself fall to such standards as to spell badly, whatever state I was in. I'm obsessed with it. Things are just so much clearer when you spell correctly. So it takes a bit longer. So the backspace key has a little more wear than the others. I don't mind. I prefer it this way. And I paused to watch the television and I've lost my drift once again. Maybe I should end here. Not such a long post, but hopefully I've conveyed my somewhat pointless message. Maybe there was no message. That is more probable. Oh. I remembered what I was going to say. I'm an English geek. So what?! That is all :) NIGHT!!

SHOES :)

So I said I'd write a blog about my new shoes... but this is going to mainly be pictures because they are just so amazing. TK Maxx is just heaven for me... after so long I was going mad because there were just so many shoes that I wanted to buy. These are my favourite type of shoes, high tops, but I like most shoes. I started wearing high tops more after my friend passed away last year, because Nike dunks were her favourites, and we did it out of respect. But I grew to love them as my own favourites, and now I have three more pairs to add to the growing collection!!

My beautiful black Nike shoes :) £24.99 down from £59.99. Nommmm.



Mmmm the black and white Ponys :) £16.99 down from £55. Bargainnnn!


And my favourites... *drum roll* the Diesels. £39.99 down from £135.


Yayayayayay :) Shooooooooooooes!!!

Plans

I like having plans. My life works a whole lot better when things are in order and I know what's going to happen. Plans plans plans. I had to change my daily plan a lot when I came here, but I'm getting back into the routine now. The main changes have been staying up later and having longer lie-ins, which I can cope with :) It's been hard to set plans in stone here, usually because of money issues; sometimes I can afford to go out but sometimes not, like if it's the end of the week and I've gone over budget. Plans really are a good thing for me, they help me keep my head straight, keep focused. It's strange how much things have changed, planwise. I used to go to work, finish work and meet Jordan outside, and go off to the waterfall with her and Frankie and everyone. Then back to Ollie's. After those days we used to go to Barlicious, then after that the Boars. Now I'm here and my plans are so different. Plan tonight is Yaz is coming over to watch Lip Service. Missing Ama-gi for once tonight and opting for a night in instead. On Thursday we're all going bowling; hopefully I'll do better than I did last time :/ That was shocking. And cinema on Friday, to see Paranormal Activity 2, which I haven't seen the first film of. I need to watch it. And it makes me comfortable having a set routine that I can stick to. Then I know that if things go wrong it's because I've strayed from my plans. But I don't really have a ten year plan. I'm more of a right now plan person. And my right now plan is to go and get some food. :)

Between title and blurb

Just got out of a lecture that I wasn’t really paying attention to. Apart from when the lecturer started singing the riffs in adverts, eg ‘A Mars a day helps you work, rest and play’. I really wasn’t expecting her to suddenly burst into song. She had quite a good voice though. We were talking about language in the media and advertising, which I found quite interesting especially as in Sixth form I did a study on language in the media. It’s amazing the extent of techniques that adverts use that we understand subconciously, without really thinking about it. I keep thinking that it’s Monday, which is one of the insignificant downfalls of a four day week, it mucks up my internal time scale. It feels like a Monday. Don’t you think that’s such a strange thing to say... how can a day feel like a Monday?! I’m in the library at the moment, which is a strange old place. Thousands of books, thousands of ideas locked away between title and blurb. I’m always disorientated in here; it’s an unusual shape. Out of the window there are some trees but it’s completely unrecognisable. It’s unsettling not knowing which direction you’re facing. I also find it odd how quiet you have to be in a library. There is so much information, so much learning in here but you aren't allowed to discuss it. Perhaps it's to prevent the hidden ideas from escaping. Although I highly doubt it's that profound.

Blog of the week!

Okay I just found this, but this can be my Monday thing, like Postsecret is the Sunday thing. This is the best blog I've seen in a while! Basically the guy puts his camera down, sets the self-timer to two seconds, then tries to run as far away from the camera as he can in those two seconds. Obviously, the camera takes a picture of him running, and he uploads the pictures onto his blog. I have to say this is one of the most unusual blogs I've ever seen.. but it's really quite interesting, and definitely different. And the most amazing thing is... he's been doing it for four years! Go and check it out!! :)

Running From Camera

Hills, Ducks, Shoes and Writing

Today has been lovely. Went to meet my mum just after midday, which was so early for me to be awake! We had a great meal at Wetherspoons, then later on went shopping. I bought some amazing shoes :) I will write a whole blog post about them at some point including pictures! It was so good to be reunited with my mum, especially after such a long time. I say such a long time, really it's not even five weeks, but it's a long time for me. Once I'd got used to her being there, I kept expecting to see other people from back home around. It was strange. Got to try and keep my room tidy now; I hoovered and it's really super clean now. Did a lot of walking again today; I walk so much here. I think I'd walk more back home if it was as flat as it is here. When I went to see Izzie in Caterham it was so hilly, so I figured since here is in Surrey too it would be the same. But it's so flat here, so I can get lots of effortless walking done. I love walking along the river, with the swans, the geese, the ducks, I love it, Duck would love it too :) It seems really inspirational, but I haven't really had the time to go and sit in places and be inspired. There's also a little park that I want to go to, and sit and write, but I still haven't got round to it. I reckon I could get so much writing done there. It's like when I used to go and sit in Soho Square and write, which I haven't done in ages, and I'd get so much done that I'd still be writing on the train home. I loved being that inspired, but that was a long time ago, before the months and months and possibly a year of writers block. I stopped writing and everything just stopped flowing. It's back, touch wood, and I hope it stays.

This always cheers me up :)

I stuck it up on my noticeboard because it's so colourful and so... complimentary. It's just a sheet of white paper with lots of words in different coloured felt-tips written all over it. It was made a few weeks ago at a society meeting at my uni - we had to stick a piece of paper on our backs and go around the room introducing ourselves and having a chat with the other members. Then after a few minutes we had to write a word, or a few words on the piece of paper about them. This is mine, it always makes me smile!!


Granted... some of them are a bit immature, but I'm a bit immature so it just amuses me. So it's up on my noticeboard, along with letters from my family, to cheer me up. :) Lovely!

So little time

This is far too early, shouldn't have stayed up til stupid o'clock again last night. Today will be good though, seeing my mum for the first time in over a month; makes it sound like I'm in prison or something. In fact I chose to keep a distance so I could try to become independent, which I feel is going well. Once I've hoovered the room will look respectable; worried about what my mum will say though when she sees all the untouched cooking utensils on my shelves... haven't actually cooked a proper meal! I've assisted my flatmates making curry and pasta and stuff, in fact I did cook chicken once, but the rest of it's been ready meals and take-aways, uh oh! I'm really in the mood to watch Grey's Anatomy, but it'll send me to sleep and I've got to be up and out soon. Not sure I even have time for hoovering. So much to do, so little time..

Last blog of the evening

Finished tidying for the night; it's a big improvement but I still wouldn't consider it tidy. The shelves look like a jumble sale. It's really colourful, I like it! Just in case you really were interested in that bit of pointless information... here's a picture :)

So it's not exactly tidy, but I've given up, I'm too tired. I should probably hoover the floor as well, maybe tomorrow. I should have used an empty day to my advantage today and read 'The Big Sleep' by Raymond Chandler, for Creative Writing, but I managed a lowly 2 chapters. I thought many times about picking it up again, but it's really not that interesting. I've got washing up to do; I washed up everything in the sink this evening, much to my flatmates shock. I've got clothes that need washing as well; I'll get round to it at some point. Now I'm just watching Road Wars; rather coincidentally because my friends told me to watch it and look out for Rosie, (not exactly sure why...), but it's only on because it came on after what I was watching before, which I now have zero recollection of. Rosie's not all that to be perfectly honest. I've got to get up early tomorrow, but only because my mum's coming to visit, not because of Uni. Having Mondays off is such a blessing, I can't imagine reverting to a five day week now. It's a bit like when I made the transition from Year 11 to Sixth form, and I couldn't imagine going back to five lessons a day with no free periods. It's funny how life works like that. I'll be screwed when I finish Uni and go to get a full time job, it'll be such a shock to the system! So it's the last blog of the evening; today has been a much more productive day than yesterday. I'm going to settle down in bed now and try to squeeze some reading into my not so busy schedule. Night all!

Thoughts whilst tidying

Tidying, as much as I hate it, helps me to think of things to blog about. I don't really understand how that works but maybe it's to do with all the things I find and the thought processes that they trigger. I was tidying up my pillboxes, and I'm seeing my mum tomorrow and I've got to give them back to her. Which made me think about my mum, and in turn, my family. I've been alive for 18 years, 4 months and 28 days. In my eyes, that's a really long time, because I suppose, for me, it's forever. But I was trying to think what the longest period of time that I'd previously been away from all of my family for. The answer that I conjured up after much thinking was about a week and a half. 10 days. Which really isn't long at all. I've been at university, separated from my family for 32 days now. Three times the previous length I'd been away from them. I have amazed myself with how well I've coped. I came here thinking that I would make no friends and be extremely lonely. Even when my friends, Alex in particular said that I could make friends without even trying, that I'd have to work really hard to make no friends, I didn't believe a word. It made no sense to me. But now I've been here for over a month; I have made friends. I've made friends with my flatmates, friends in my block, friends on my course and some friends from LGBT that I know will be friends for life. Even after two weeks we were talking about getting a house together next year, we all just click, which is such a cliché, but it's true. I never thought I'd be able to make friends so quickly, and feel the essential trust that you need to acquire to call somebody a friend in such a short time. It's amazed me. I really have shocked myself. Anyway, back to tidying.

Kaleidoscope

Sometimes the world gets a little much. I have the feeling to run, to escape. It's like everything was black and white but now, it's a kaleidoscope of colours running into each other and hurtling in all directions. Dizzy. Muddled. I spend all day in a white box with ugly blue curtains. You couldn't even play ping pong in this tiny little hovel. I thought I'd cherish having my own space and being independent like this. But I feel trapped. I know a lot of people on my English Language course are wondering at the moment whether they've paid thousands of pounds for a pointless degree; I don't blame them half the time, because it's mostly just recaps of what we learnt at A level as I've said before. So I'm trapped on a course, as I've paid, and it's money I have to pay back. And trapped in this room. It wasn't what I had expected. I don't feel like this all the time. Sometimes it's enough room for me, but it's never quite enough room for me to sort my thoughts out or make the world seem any less messed up. I don't know what to do. I hope I feel more straightened out tomorrow, more plain and simple. Let's see.

Postsecret

Sunday is Postsecret day. Check them out here!

I'm always wondering what my secrets would be. I ought to know them, they ought to be at the front of my mind, but they aren't. I find it hard to work out where they are hiding. They must be in there somewhere. But postsecret helps me to discover my secrets, by giving me a list to look at. That way, I can scroll down the list and pick out the ones that I feel are mine too. This will be a regular Sunday event. I'll also go through the archives and find a past secret that I really relate to, or feel that is mine as well. So let's go!This week I'd say that this is my secret. I think I'm definitely a better writer for all that I've been through with mental illness. It's given me a lot of experiences to write about, and most importantly an alternative way of thinking. Thinking about life, thinking about the world, thinking about death. Just thinking in general. But personally I feel that I write more confidently and about wider topics due to my own experiences. Also, when I used to paint, back in the day, I felt like a lot of my work was related to my experiences of mental illness too. So I completely feel like this secret is mine.

This is a secret from December 2007. At the time it meant nothing to me, but now it means something. It's a secret that's only been mine for two months; and for me it relates to my A level results. My predicted grades were B in English Language, E in Biology and U in Chemistry. These predictions were written down on my UCAS application, making it hard for me to apply to high-achieving Universities. It's fair enough, what kind of great University is going to accept an applicant who is predicted to fail an A level?! But what wasn't fair was that I knew I could do better than that. And I did prove them all wrong, because I ended up with an A in English Language, a B in Biology and a C in Chemistry, and 100 more UCAS points than I needed to get into Kingston. I've never been so happy to prove somebody wrong, but I still feel a little bitterness, especially as I could have applied to a much higher-achieving University than I did. Luckily, I'm happy here at Kingston, but the feeling is still there, at the back of my mind, just like my secrets.

Sunday Afternoons

Sunday afternoons here usually consist of a trip to Wetherspoons with Katy and Matt, sometimes Anthony, Darren and Hannah, sometimes others. Followed by a walk along the river in search of a coffee shop. I like to think it's more about the journey than the destination, but thirst can often get the better of me. No such luck today, which in a way is a good thing as I can't really afford a meal out, but it's something to do I suppose, not to mention great company. So instead, I've started reading 'The Big Sleep' by Raymond Chandler, (expect a review by the end of the week) and I plan on tidying my room some more, then possibly writing another music review in the evening. If you're lucky! But I need the practice so I probably will. But yes, I've started reading 'The Big Sleep' and it has a much better beginning than 'Loitering with Intent'. I'm only on chapter two but I can appreciate the difference. I have until Thursday to read it, but it's 251 pages, ouch. So I really ought to be reading rather than blogging, but I can't fight the newly recovered addiction. I really fancy some orange squash, but that involves going to the kitchen to get water and ice, (ice is a necessity with everything as you will come to know) and a glass. I really miss my guitar. This is why I need to live with the girls so I can use Yaz's. I'm contemplating bringing mine down after reading week, but I don't want it to get damaged. But I'm aching for chords and riffs and music. So I think it's a must.

Night life.

I much prefer the world when it's dark. It's mysterious, it's quiet. Quieter. I get so much more done at nighttime; in the day I can never muster the strength to do anything particularly productive, but at night it's a whole other story. Tonight I've tidied my room, picked up all the clothes from the floor and found 81p. But it's still a mess. I like it messy, it matches my brain. It's an organised mess, I know where everything is; bar the 81 pence, I didn't know that was there at all. I've also found two badges, the rest of my bracelets, hundreds of things I got from Fresher's Fayre, about ten lighters, plasters galore and an endless stream of rubbish. And now I'm watching Men Behaving Badly, wishing I'd had the money to go out with Jen, Laura and Yaz tonight. 'If women could only have breasts or buttocks, which would you get rid of?' An interesting question, personally I'd get rid of buttocks, but it's a hard choice. I'm not tired at all. I'm wide awake. I wonder if the term 'wide awake' has reference to the eyes being wide open, because aside from that it doesn't really make any sense.. does it? I'm quite excited, because during my tidying session, I found the notebook I bought last week, but haven't written in yet. I love new notebooks.. they're a beautifully blank canvas. And I love filling them up with ideas and scribbles. It's meant to be used as a journal for Uni, but instead I'll use here as a journal, and the notebook as a portable noticeboard for my ideas. Plan. I'm about to venture out into the night for a little walk, see if I can burn off some of my energy. I should never have had that lucozade, I'll be up for hours. Ooops.

Thoughts glued to the page.

I like the sheer amount of power I have over Kristina :D I can't wait for her to start blogging again, I absolutely love reading her work. She writes so creatively, and personally as I do. I don't suppose there is much point to this post; it's merely thoughts glued to the page. I like days when I don't have to make food, Josh had leftover pizza and Fash didn't want his doughnuts. Unhealthy, but cheap! Better than cheap... free! I have had a really unproductive day, I should have tidied, I should have attempted my assignment, maybe even done the washing but lazing around and blogging seemed a better idea. My mind is less confused today, fewer thoughts whizzing around and smacking into the sides of my skull. Chicken broth is remarkably soothing, maybe that's what has calmed me back into my sane state. My addiction to blogging is back in full force, and I love it. I've been yearning to write properly again, and I feel like this will be great practice for my degree as well. I suppose it has been quite a productive day with all the writing I've cracked out; I typed up my review of Loitering with Intent, and wrote a review of the Junebug EP by Nerina Pallot. I really enjoy reviewing, perhaps I should have taken a Journalism degree! Perhaps perhaps perhaps. I must stop what-if-ing.

Junebug EP - Nerina Pallot : REVIEW

Junebug was the second of three EPs released by Nerina Pallot, a London-born and Jersey raised singer-songwriter. It was released in June 2009, three years after the second release of her second album, 'Fires'. Pallot is renowned for writing her own songs, but on this EP she introduces her husband Andy Chatterley into the works as co-writer.

1. Junebug 4:10
2. Bloom 3:58
3. God of Small Things 3:21
4. How Do We Cope? 3:06
5. This Will Be Our Year 4:00


The first track on the EP is the title track: 'Junebug'. Penned by Pallot and Chatterley the song kicks off with a rather risque first line: 'Let's take off all our clothes'. A lively guitar song, much more 'pop' in genre than tracks from Pallot's first album 'Dear Frustrated Superstar' and much of her second album too. The chorus begins 56 seconds in with the fantastic lyric 'How did we know, when we met, we would feel this? How did we know it would be so beautiful?' This is where I realised that this is a love song, a very personal one. Admittedly it took me a few listens to really love this song, and now I find it rather Kylie-esque. Nerina's voice works beautifully with the strong guitar chords. A very pretty little ditty.

'Bloom' is the second track on the EP, a very summery song indeed. Another guitar track which tells the tale of wishing and dreaming for the future, for a successful life, 'It's never too late to bloom'. It describes a girl who grew up believing she'd make it some day, and at the same time a woman who asks 'Do you wish your life would go another way?'. The lyrics appear to me as tentative, for example 'we close our eyes and dare to hope', which I find an extremely beautiful line. Bloom is a very thought-provoking song, made up of positive chords and strong vocals from Pallot. I really like this song, it always cheers me up with it's optimistic views on the word.

The third track is 'God of Small Things', the only track I'd heard prior to the release of the EP, as it had been posted on Nerina's Myspace page a while earlier. This is my favourite track from the EP; to me it comes across as an innocent message to God. Pallot is a religious person, and she conveys some very personal thoughts in this song. The piano creates a more melancholy tone to such an exquisite track. Pallot questions a number of things including God's existance, the workings of the world and my personal favourite, 'Do you keep your blessings for the rich, the pyres and their guns? Or if you're half the man I hope, you root for everyone'. This is much a softer song than the others on the EP, but so very beautiful.

'How Do We Cope?' is the penultimate track on the EP, the last guitar track. 'How Do We Cope?' presents Pallot's strongest vocals on the EP, and uses repetition in the lyrics to incredible effect. The title explains the song well, but I think it's about the decline of a relationship. It is a very powerful song that boasts a number of excellent lyrics, for example, 'My heart beats like an express train'. I would yet again describe this track as 'Pop' in genre, it's very catchy and rhythmic. I have a lot of love for this song.

The final track on the EP is entitled 'This Will Be Our Year'. A stunning piano song full of hope for the future. Once again Pallot presents us with powerful vocals and beautiful lyrics, including 'Hope we're heading for a future and not heading for a fall'. It's a song about making do and keeping on keeping on, because everything brightens up eventually. I feel like 'This Will Be Our Year' is a sad song, yet has optimistic connotations. It encompasses feelings of doubt about the world, and life in itself, creating a very thoughtful track. I adore this song.

Junebug is a very exciting EP, beginning with very summery and light music, which evolves to show a darker side of Pallot. I would highly recommend this EP to anyone who enjoys Nerina's music, and anyone who enjoys pop, acoustic music and beautiful lyrics.

A topical blog

What I need is some kind of job, any kind of job that can support me financially through University. My parents earn a figure that is marginally over the threshold value, meaning that I am not entitled to a grant, only a loan. A loan that I must pay back at double the current interest rate, thanks to the genius that is Nick Clegg. I can't believe I supported the Lib Dems, who aimed to reduce or even eliminate tuition fees, for this to happen. So tuition fees are going up, even though student loans aren't enough to cover the cost of living as a student anyway. The problem with the current system is that the amount that you are entitled to is based solely on what your parents earn, and not what they have to spend it on. So student from a family that earns just over the threshold but have to spend X amount on medical expenses or for some other unpreventable reason still do not qualify for a loan. And the same problem occurs with family size, as this is not taken into account either. So a family who have 10 children to support who want to go to University don't qualify for any different measures than a family with only 1 child to support who wants to go. I feel that the system should be changed dramatically. The pressure on students is ridiculously high; and I, as a student, worry constantly about my budget. A student at my University recently committed suicide because of debt worries; proving that this is an extremely serious issue. My parents are willing to lend me small amounts of money, but I feel guilty borrowing from them, especially as I wanted this to be an independent experience. Does anyone else feel that the system should change?

Loitering with Intent - Muriel Spark : REVIEW

An enchanting short novel, set in the middle of the 20th century, in a world still feeling the effects of the 2nd World War. In a very intelligent twisted tale, we see cold but confident young novelist Fleur Talbot take up a new job at the 'Autobiographical Association'; a bizarre collection of illiterate memoir writers, where she is employed to retype the scrawlings of the lives of six grandly-titled individuals. Despite the exaggerated characters and unusual settings, the novel begins somewhat slowly; the author introducing us to the ins and outs of the main character's life and relationships, and the progress she makes with her own novel, 'Warrender Chase'. The reader is present for Fleur's realisation that the members of the association all appear to bear striking resemblances to the characters in her novel, and Fleur, in turn uses these compelling people to build on her characters. Fleur is overwhelmed by the intriguing personalities with such potential for her writing, and takes a particular liking to the head of the association, Sir Quentin's 'Mummy', Edwina. Described as an ancient 'English Rose', a 'tall, thin and extremely aged woman with a glittering appearance' and a 'scarlet gash of a smile'.

The book begins to lived up around half way through when the reader learns that Fleur's only manuscript of her novel has been stolen from her small dingy bedsit. As 'Loitering with Intent' transforms into a thriller, multiple thought processes occur in the mind of the reader: 'Who has stolen the manuscript?' 'What were the thief's intentions?' 'Will Fleur ever get her precious first novel back?' The book rapidly becomes overpowered with desperation for the relocation of Fleur's work, and the unnerving realisation that Fleur's fiction writing may have some impact on reality. The lives of the members of the 'Autobiographical Association' unfold to be intricately intertwined with the events of 'Warrender Chase', leaving a labyrinth of discovery for the reader.

Muriel Spark is clearly a highly intelligent and witty writer as she has created a brilliantly entertaining and colourful novel, working her own experiences into her work with flawless effect.

Reviews are the way forward

I've decided I'm going to start writing some reviews, to get some practice on review writing, and to fill this blog out a bit. I'm not sure yet if it will be mainly music reviews, but I know I've got some books that I need to review, as well as some short stories. I don't really have a plan, so we'll see what happens. Perhaps I'll even do some television or film reviews; whatever gets me writing. I expect most of the posts on here will be pointless ramblings, so hopefully if I do a review every so often it'll liven things up! So keep checking back for reviews on just about anything!!

About Me.

I've decided to construct a new 'About Me', since I haven't made one in years; I was going to build a new one for my Facebook a few months ago, but ended up just changing the age from 16 to 18. So let's go.

Catherine Franklin, 18, aspiring writer and generally creative person. I love writing just about anything; fiction, fiction based on my experiences, prose, poetry, reviews, short stories, longer stories, anything. Love my guitars, and my football boots. Shoes are amazing. High tops are just so beautiful. I need some Dr Martens in my life, so if you fancy buying me some, that would be amazing. I like to experiment with spelling, pronunciation, emphasis and rhyme, but never in any of the work I value; mainly just in everyday spoken language. Amezzin. I really like the word 'genius', it works just about anywhere. And the word 'undulating' has a pleasing sound to it.

I love Caesar dressing, Soy sauce, Chicken Chow Mein, Irn bru and Vimto. I watch Grey's Anatomy every night before I sleep, I can answer any question about the show. Geek. Fantastic memory. If I was on Mastermind, it would be my specialist subject. I adore beautiful music; Nerina Pallot in particular. I've seen her live nine times, make that ten in December. She is beyond indescribable. Imogen Heap, Regina Spektor, Ingrid Michaelson, Lisa Mitchell, Florence Welsh, Ellie Goulding... All lyrical geniuses.

Most of my favourite memories are in Lisbon or Dublin. Two of the finest capitals I've visited, I wouldn't mind settling down in either of them. Lisbon is absolutely divine, and somehow even more wonderful by night. The most inspirational places I could ever imagine. And Dublin is full of the kindest, happiest, most helpful people on the planet. And one person in particular, a bouncer, took my breath away. The rest of my favourite memories are either in Devon, or in my home town of Bishop's Stortford, Hertfordshire. And the memories I'm making now, they're in Kingston-upon-Thames.

I'm at the University of Kingston studying... wait for it, English Language and Communication with Creative Writing. It's an experience to say the least. The people I've met are amazing; I'm happy to call them my new friends. Not to say that I've forgotten my old friends. They are amazing too, I love them to pieces. Socialising is one of my favourite activities, especially if it comes with a double vodka and cranberry or a cider or three.

I can't stand bad spelling; perfectionist. I live my life to a routine, but it doesn't bother me. As much as I like in-depth conversations, I love a good chat about practically nothing. Small talk. Gossip winds me up though. Most tend to call me Frankie; it's much easier. I get on with just about anyone, I think I'm quite easy to get to know. So try it :)

MahJong is the way forward, life is a party, rainbows, butterflies, BOOM.

Definitely not feeling right.

However unsure of how I am feeling. I'm not tired, nor am I unwell. I'm just... absent, in some way. I have yet to call this place home, despite being here for a month now. I have yet to feel that I am really here, or that I belong. I was aching to study in London, because I always felt at home in the capital. I haven't been for a whole day in London yet, like I always used to when I was residing at home. I do need a day out though, a day away, a day of writing maybe. It might fix me; make me feel myself again. I often feel like crying, but the tears don't come anymore, not like they used to. I think it's probably because I don't feel comfortable enough here to let my real self come out. I never know what to do with myself; I've resorted to watching shitty game shows to while away the hours. And all the work I've been given gets done as soon as they hand it to me due to sheer lack of other means of entertainment. If my loan was enough to fund socialising then I'd be out every night, but on £50 a week I'm rather limited. Perhaps this contributes to my low moods. Perhaps it's just the way I'm feeling this week. It scares me so much thinking that I've got to stick at this for three years, especially as I'm such a 'live in the moment' person. I just hope it becomes more stimulating. Creative Writing has be captured every time, but English Language feels so repetitive. I despise saying that because it's my favourite subject, but I feel like all we do is recap A Level work. A Level work that I've already learnt, and learnt well enough to achieve an A grade. I'm yearning to learn something new, something that makes me go 'Wow', like I was all the way through sixth form. If that happened maybe I'd feel more enthusiastic about everything. More confident that I'm spending thousands of pounds, and setting myself up for decades of debt for a decent education. Maybe the reason for my worries is simple; lack of sleep, and the answer is as plain as 'Go to bed'. Perhaps I shall.