Sleepoholic

So back to uni tomorrow. Maybe then I'll actually have something to blog about, something worth reading, or at least worth writing. Maybe I'll get my results for semester one, which would be good. I'm dying to know how I did. Been having some great conversations with my new flatmate Irvis, he's a really great guy. I really like him. He does Radiography, diagnostic, so I can have medical conversations with him and his friends, it's great! Kind of wish I'd taken something medical related now, it sounds like so much fun. And half their degree is done at St George's which is where I wanted to go to do Medicine. My Grey's Anatomy obsession has escalated, I now have a new... responsibility? Is that the word? I don't know.. but it's fun. I like pretending to be someone I'm not. I can live in the Grey's world and pretend I'm scrubbing in and performing actual surgeries. I wish Grey's was real life. I can't stop listening to This is the life - Amy Macdonald. Such a great song. But yes, uni tomorrow, and I'm not looking forward to actually having to get out of bed, but I'm sure I'll enjoy it once I'm back into the swing of things. I should go to bed soon if I want to have any chance of making it in tomorrow, but seeing as I was still awake at nearly 5am last night it seems unlikely. I'm a night owl, I just don't do daytime. Sleep doesn't like me. Well it likes me, just only in the day. Nocturnal.

Four, Three, Two, One, Kaboom.

I'm crying. I haven't cried in ages. I have things I want to say but I can't. I just read over the last email. I can't even remember if I replied. It seems like a world away and I'm not really sure why. And I read that great long thing I wrote. And cried some more. And now I'm still crying. I think what you have to say will be one of three things. All bad. I so want to know what it is, but if it's any of the three as soon as I've read it I'll wish I hadn't. Because being 99% sure of something is easier than knowing for certain. If it's something bad I mean. But I'm not saying I don't want to know. I still think you should press the big orange button. Or email it if it's not that easy. Type it up and see how you feel. I've just thought of a fourth thing it could be. If it's none of these four things then I'll be okay. I just want to know what it is.

More Interesting Than Hitler

I really enjoyed our catch up this evening. So far it has spanned over six hours, but that's nowhere near a record for us. I so nearly told you some of the thing that I'm meant to be keeping a secret, I typed it out fully twice, and thought about typing it about ten times. I think it'll be better if I keep it a secret til May, but I don't know if I can keep a secret for that long. I'm dying to know what it was that you wrote. And it's pleasing to know that I'm more interesting than Hitler. But I really want to know. Whatever it is, I want to know. I have a feeling it'll be something bad. But I've been waiting a long time to find out, it was almost a month ago that you said we need to talk. Anyway. Tonight has reminded me why you're my favourite person. Thanks for the catch up. :)

Fools Gold

From the time you said “Hello” and “What’s your name?”
You were a work of art, played me like a little game
Now you can break my heart, and I will love you just the same
I can see it through your eyes,
Your fingers crossed by your side
But I need your little shiny lies

You promised the world and opened up your door
And the words you fed me left me wanting more
And now I’m left here locked out looking for a key to score
I can see it through your eyes,
Your fingers crossed by your side
But I need your little shiny lies

Fools gold shining

You can break my heart and I will want you just the same
I can see it through your eyes
Your fingers crossed by your side
But I need your little shiny lies

You can break my heart and I will love you just the same
I can see through your eyes
Your fingers crossed by your side
But I need your little shiny lies

Howl

The new year's resolution has gone completely out of the window. I'm miles behind with this blog, and I haven't been doing anything productive lately so I've had nothing to write about. But you've found your words so I don't see why I can't try and find mine. I know that hmm means you're thinking about not doing it, not typing it up. You should always say what you think. The things you write down where nobody can see should be set free. You should be a wolf, howl it at the moon, no regrets. Rip off the band-aid. No anesthesia. Letters should always be sent. I think I've only ever written two letters that I didn't send eventually. One was to my history teacher explaining why I couldn't come on the school trip, and it ended up being pages and pages of A4. And the second one was to Sophie. I should have sent it, I really should have, but I didn't. I couldn't. It was too much. So you should send it. The person it was addressed to probably really wants to know what you have to say. Click the orange button. Howl it at the moon.

Musings

I want to go to Brighton. Now. But it's too late, I won't get there in time. Maybe next week. I want to wander around and sit on the beach, even though it's January. I want to go to the pier and browse the shops along the seafront. That's what I want to do now. I'm heading home again, for one more week, then uni starts again. And I'll have to sort my head out and focus again. Had a lovely day with Katy, Matt and Antoine, pub lunch, then board games. And wine. Anyway. I had a thought a few days ago. A little musing that might help me get ahead. Get what I want, in some respects. I've been thinking about it on the train and I had a brilliant idea. It is actually amazing and it ought to open eyes at the very least. So I'm going to put together a plan. Because I work better when things are all laid out. Going to upload this via blog writer since I've got my new iPod now.. Yay!

La La La

Back to Kingston tomorrow. I've been looking at houses online because it's a long time to wait. Hopefully everyone will be out tomorrow night, I need a decent night out. Even Jen's coming, even though she has flu. Went to the crazy hospital today and they put my dosage up. La la la. I guess it's for the best. I found a nice house though. It's really nice. I would tell them but they would think I was over-eager. But I just want somewhere to escape to. Yes.

Postsecret 16/01/11

Check out the postsecrets this week by clicking here.

I think this will be my secret one day.

One Hundred And One

I guess I found my words again. I didn't have anything to say, for weeks. And not just here, I haven't had any words to say to anyone lately. Today my great-great-aunt died. Not many people have a great-great-aunt. Not one that's 101 anyway. One hundred and one. Almost one hundred and two actually. Almost. One hundred and one, that's a lot of years. I'm not even a fifth of that. I'm only eighteen. And eighteen feels like a lot of years. It feels like I've been around for a long time. I can't image living through one hundred and one years. Living through two world wars. Over a century. Think of all the things that must have happened in her life. I can't even picture one hundred and one years worth of love, laughing, loss, life. Just think how many memories that is. How long it must take to look back over what you've been through. I don't know if I want to live for that long, be that old. But with age comes wisdom, and I'd certainly like one hundred and one years worth of wisdom. One hundred and one years. But it's over now. She's at peace. I really hope there's something peaceful and sleep-like after this life.

2am

It's darker in my house than outside. Outside it feels like 5pm, or maybe 6am, but definitely not 2 in the morning. It's supposed to be the dead of night but the sky is blue-grey. Light is flooding in through the window. These last few days, in my nocturnal state I have found myself spending a sizable proportion of my time staring at the moon. It's a full moon, maybe that's why it's so light out there, and maybe that's why I've spent such a long time staring at it. It has a real face. I want to go there.. I want to be able to know what those craters that show up in dark patches look like close up. And it would be nice to escape to somewhere that far away. Some people want to visit India. That would be amazing. I want to go to Venice. And Lisbon. And I want to know London even better than I do. Know every corner, every alleyway. But I'd like to see the moon, from the moon. I really want to escape. I want to escape even more when I'm back here, at home. Home isn't the place you're supposed to want to escape from. But it's nearly February. And after February comes March. And that means we're a quarter of the way through the year. And it also means house-shopping. We're going house-shopping in March. And even though we won't actually have our own house til September, three-quarters of the way through the year, it's a start. I hope we have a shed. So it can be an escape, like Freddie's shed in Skins. If not, I'll make my own escape at the bottom of the garden. Let's run into the sunset and never look back.

My Favourite Covers 12/01/11

Yes, yes I'm a week late again but I will catch up at some point.. I promise. Okay this week I just have one cover to share with you, and it's a bloody amazing one. A friend of mine showed it to me a while ago, and I'm still in love with it. It's just such a different take on the original, and on an instrument I've never actually seen used before.

Real Late Starter - Josie Lloyd - originally by Nerina Pallot. Nerina ran a competition to find the best cover of the first single from her third album, and this didn't win, but I really think it should have done. Josie plays the song here on Kora, which is a West African Harp. This is such a beautiful cover. You HAVE to watch this.

Check back soon for more of my favourite covers!

This Time Last Year 11/01/11

Once again I'm a week late.. SORRY! Here's a couple of posts from my miniblog from this time last year (plus a week).


10th January 2010

I had a dream about you the other night Jordan, it was your funeral again but it was so much more horrible. I was with your sister digging through your things trying to find these letters you had written to everyone. I found mine and took the whole book and was going to read them later, but I never got a chance to before I woke up. I still can't believe you're gone, I think about you all the time. It's so surreal. Come back please, I miss you so much. Love you chef. xxxxx

12th January 2010

Jordan I miss you so much. I want to go and lay you down some more flowers, but I can't get there right now. I need to revise but I can't stop thinking about you, and crying. Things just aren't right. I can't concentrate. I wonder if you read these. I suppose you can't since I stopped uploading them. I think I'll start doing that again. I hope you're okay up there chef, thanks for making it snow, I loved it. If you were still here we probably would have all got together and had a snowball fight or something. That would've been fun. I really hope you're okay up there, and not in pain or anything. I can still hear your voice in my head telling me I looked like a Russian in my hat. And then you put it on :) I think you actually worked it better than I did. I miss you. If I get to bed tonight at all I'll come talk to you at my window, you better be there :) I don't want to wake you up from your bed up there which is probably huge and really cotchy haha, but I fancy a chat. This still seems crazy. Right, better get back to my revision.. any chance you want to help me do well in my exams on Thursday by any chance? Cos that'd be lovely. Anyway, I'll talk to you later. Love you lots chef xxxxxxxxx

No Change, No Tears

Watching Skins. Pretty much all I've done today. Apart from complain about my wisdom tooth coming through and how painful it is. This is now the fifth episode I've watched in a row this evening. I should really sleep, but I only want to watch Skins, and I can't fall asleep watching Skins. I can only fall asleep watching Grey's Anatomy. Tomorrow I have to go to the dentist about my tooth, incase it's impacted. And I have to go and get my new glasses. Change. I hate change. I don't want tomorrow to come so I'm going to watch Skins, because if I can't sleep watching Skins then I won't sleep, and if I don't sleep then tomorrow will take longer to get here. I'm back home again, back from halls because I've handed every single bit of work in, all fourteen pieces. I actually did it. Early. Which is the only change I can cope with. Beneficial change. At halls there's finally a sixth person in our flat. I don't remember his name but I remember that he's studying Radiography. I think I'd like to do Radiography. It's probably bad that I don't remember his name but I remember that he's studying half at St George's and half at Kingston, but I don't like change and I've grown used to having an empty room in the flat. Anyway. Change is bad. Bad bad bad. But sleep is good. Such a dilemma.

Blog Of The Week 10/01/10

Okay so I'm a whole week late with this blog post.. and I broke my new years resolution about being on time, I know. But it's here finally. Okay so I was just browsing Stumbleupon, and I found an ingenious little website created by Drew Olbridge, a computer specialist and artist who designs programmes and has worked on animations such as Shrek and Madagascar. His website is a collection of funny little web pages, that all have a different topic. Some are really strange, such as the 'Thing in a jar' page, which shows a thing that Drew has made, and put in a jar to confuse people and ultimately make them think. Here it is!

This wacky website is definitely worth checking out. Click here to visit Drew Olbridge's website.

Fullstop

London let me down tonight. I said it wouldn't happen again and it didn't. Partly because Rick was there.. partly because of Erica and Alex. And partly because Patrick called me a fucking dyke bitch and we were all so pissed at him. And partly because I sung to you.. 'you had your chance, you blew it'. I didn't mean it. With me, it's never blown. Then on the way home you texted me saying 'what's with us?' And I asked what you meant but you didn't reply. But if I was to try and answer.. this is all I can say. I want you, but I'm trying really hard not to. That is all. I listened to Kelly Clarkson all the way home, and I learnt some thing, I was thinking a lot. Most importantly, my life would suck without you. I mean, we're the same. I even asked you the make or break question tonight.. if you could have one of Girls Aloud, who would it be. And you said Kimberley. You said the right answer. So it's make, not break. And even though we weren't holding hands on the way back to the bus stop this time, at least we were still singing Jessie J. It's okay. Because we can be friends. Just friends, no ten. Not like Soph. Just friends. Just really good friends. Because I need you. As just that. Yeah.

Submission

Today I wrote my last analysis of technique, sorted all the documents out, and submitted three modules worth of work. It is such a relief to have them handed in. Just one essay left to go, and that's due on Monday. Right now I'm having a Grey's Anatomy marathon, because I was meant to be going to my friend's for an L word night and a few drinks but they haven't got back to me. When I'm ignored like this I feel like they might have found my blog, read everything. But they would have to search back a long way, I mean I've written over 150 of these blog posts now. There's a lot to trawl through. I'm knackered, but I really fancied just chilling with them. Another time maybe. Grey's Anatomy is weird at the moment, I really don't like the Mercy West residents, not one bit. And the whole Izzie situation and the Chief is being strange. It's just changed. I want it back to the original cast. I miss Burke, just like Cristina does.

It's Good To Be Back

My amazing flatmate just did me the biggest favour. She found the handout from week five that nobody else seems to have, on how to do the analysis of technique, and has lent me it. Even the lecturer didn't have it.. what's that about?! So I thought, I can finally get number 13 ticked off the list. But I'm tired, and I've had a few drinks, so I'll do it tomorrow. I had the longest journey trying to get back to Kingston today. Got to the station at quarter to four, but the overhead lines had gone down, so I had to drive across the county to get on at a different station that was unaffected by our part of the line. Then the trains were delayed there too, so it was gone half five by the time I actually got on a train. And the train I got on was the slowest train in existence!! Then once I'd got to Tottenham Hale and been on the underground, when I got to Vauxhall I couldn't even get on the train because there were so many people on it. Literally nobody could get on it, it was jam packed. So it was nearly 8 by the time I finally got to Kingston. But then I went out to meet my lovelies, which was nice. We went to Spoons, and Patrick was hilariously drunk. He's so funny. Spoke to Annie about the thing again, and she said, again, that we need to talk. But I don't want to. Because it's not going to happen again and that's final. The end. Anyway. I'm going to meet Antoine outside in a bit. It's good to be back.

REVIEW: The Big Sleep - Raymond Chandler

Raymond Chandler introduces the world to a series of crime stories in his first novel ‘The Big Sleep’. In a style of writing that has definitely stood the test of time the reader is introduced to Philip Marlowe, a private investigator hired to aid Old man Sternwood and his two promiscuous daughters who are being blackmailed by a man named Geiger. On the hunt for the blackmailer, the story quickly transforms into a thriller and a murder mystery.

Chandler’s vivid description is the most powerful factor in this novel, for example the captivating line “dead men are heavier than broken hearts”. However, the sheer amount of similes and metaphors is overwhelming at some points, and this gives a sense that Chandler has foraged through notebooks of the ideas he has collected over the years and poured every clever comparison he had ever written into this, his first novel.

‘This Big Sleep’ is a thriller that is very hard to follow due to the ludicrous number of important characters, and the plot is often confusing. It is clear that Chandler has stuck to his favourite motto, “If in doubt, have a character pull out a gun”, making for an unconvincing and implausible novel. The only key theme is here is death, which even the title of the book is an analogy for.

Uni Work Overload

Uni work is killing me, slowly and painfully. Today I planned to write an essay on jokes. But then I decided that I couldn't think of a joke, and I didn't know how to analyse it for 1,000 words, so I scrapped that idea. I think when I get around to it I'll write an essay about adapting to a new culture instead. I just hate essays with a fiery passion. So I opted for the next thingonmy to-do list, which was my 750 word short story. It took me all day, but I finished it. And it is so sad! I nearly actually cried, at something I wrote myself, what a loser am I!!! But it was really emotional. I might post it up here tomorrow. I've nearly finished my work.. I've got an analysis of technique (which I've lost the sheet for), a book review (which I've started) and an essay left to go. So it's not going too badly. Going back to Kingston tomorrow, to attempt to finish it all off and hand the majority of it in, then for a good night out with my lovely friends. Spoons it is :)

Postsecret 09/01/11

I've just had a little look at this week's Postsecrets, and I think you should do the same by clicking here.I'm on a lot of medication, some for physical health problems, some for mental health problems, like Bipolar disorder and insomnia. I've always wished I could be a person who can survive without medication, and I've tried completely stopping taking them all before. But it just doesn't work. I don't sleep, I double over in pain from my stomach, I get acid reflux, I go a little bit crazy. And I really wish I knew how everyone else did it without them. I so want to be a normal person without pills, more than anything.

Stress

I got up the motivation to sit down and do some work for uni, I even made a list of things I need to do. It's been going quite well, I've crossed three things off already. Three down, seven to go. Then I thought, right, let's get one of the harder things done. An analysis of technique. But... the sheet explaining how to do it has completely vanished out of my folder. AGH! Having a bit of a panic at the moment. I emailed my tutor, and sent a message round to all the people I have on facebook who also do Creative Writing but it's not looking good. Stressful. And I'd geared myself up to doing that, and now I can't think where to start on the rest of the work. Gahhh.

So Fly

It feels like it's been a really long week, I keep thinking it's Monday or Tuesday, but it's only Saturday. I'm so mixed up with the days. I'm completely fed up with uni work now. I just want it all to be done. Anyone fancy doing it for me? I just can't seem to get motivated today. I'm just listening to the same four songs on repeat:

Turn & Turn Again - All Thieves
G6 Refix - Charli XCX, Mercedes & MNEK
In My Head - Until June
Life on Mars - Nerina Pallot & Theoretical Girl

And eating Dairylea lunchables... takes me right back to my childhood. I want to go back there.. when homework was so easy! By Monday, I've still got to write an essay, finish off an essay I've started, write and reference 200 words on an email alteration, edit a short story, write 750 words of creative work, edit a critical analysis, write a critical analysis, and write one more book review. I don't know how I'm going to get this all done. I just want it to be Tuesday so I can go out and get wasted with the uni lot. And then I have until February off. Bliss. I just have to make it there.

& Now I'm feeling so fly, like a G6. Ha.

Blindness

Today she text saying that the weirdest thing just happened. And I got really scared that she'd found this blog; seen what I'd written about her. I'm far too paranoid these days. Sometimes I look at her and I think I can see it in her eyes that she's read everything. But then I flick the reality switch back on, and know that she probably hasn't. It turned out someone we know, but not overly well had rung today, just being really strange on the phone, and with no real reason to ring up. Very odd. But it got us talking. I spent twenty minutes on the phone with you. Which was nice. That's what friends do. I went to the opticians today; my eyesight's got worse again. Whenever people try my glasses on they're always saying how blind I am; so today I asked what my prescription was, and apparently I'm a -4. I don't know why but I was under the impression that once you get to -10, you were declared officially blind, but apparently not! My optician is -10, and the secretary is -16(!!!) in one eye. CRAZY. I still have so much uni work to do, but I'm gradually getting through it. Piece by piece. I only have one book review to go now, and I've been working on the take-home test for English in Action today. I'm almost through it, just got two questions to go. Tomorrow I'm going to have to work solidly all day. I can't wait til it's all handed in though. I plan on catching up with Grey's Anatomy, I've been doing season 6 this week. I need to catch up with Kristina! Right. Back to studying, fun fun fun!

REVIEW: Lies Of Silence - Brian Moore

Brian Moore whisks the reader into a world tortured by political problems in the plot-driven novel ‘Lies of Silence’. Moore’s fantastic imagery paints an incredibly convincing picture of the troubled reality of everyday Northern Ireland. In a very powerful opening chapter the central character Michael Dillon decides to leave his wife for his mistress Andrea. The reader is lulled into a false sense of security, naïvely picturing lovers escaping to a better place, but Moore had a deeper, darker story to tell.

On the night before he plans to confess his affair, Dillon and his wife are held hostage in their own home in Belfast by the IRA. The thugs plant a bomb in his car boot and order him to drive it to the hotel where he works. Internal conflict is a key theme in the book, and Dillon faces some huge dilemmas, including choosing whether to save hundreds of people, or his wife. The book quickly transforms into a thriller as Dillon finds himself on the run from the IRA.

Moore’s skilled writing techniques make this novel impossible to put down; a real page turner. This is a first class novel from a highly underrated author; the only factors that let it down are a rather hostile central character with a lack of emotion and an overly objective view of the world, and a very predictable ending. I would highly recommend this novel to any reader mature enough to appreciate the complexities of the situation in Northern Ireland.

REVIEW: This Boy's Life - Tobias Wolff

Here's another review for my creative writing course, comment if you have any constructive criticism!

Tobias Wolff tells a story that can only be described as twisted truth in his minimalistic memoires, ‘This Boy’s Life’. Powerful description immerses the reader in an adolescent tale of an ambitious boy who changes his name to Jack, after his hero. The reader follows Jack through a number of escapades, through gun-play, fist fights and the realisations of the ins and outs of life as it is. Many of his tales are hard to believe, due to the outlandish content and the excessive amount of detail used to describe them, however Wolff manages to create an amusing and captivating representation of the essence of growing up. We follow Jack as he is integrated into different families that his mother becomes involved with, including a cruel father-figure Dwight, who only complicates Jack’s childish dreams of escaping.

Wolff displays an incredible ability to use description and emotion in his writing to demonstrate the repercussions of the events in his youth. The reader follows the young narrator as the story strays from being simply memoires and borders on the genre of thriller at times.

I believe that the author’s intention was to relive his teenage years through wiser eyes, but in doing so some of his memories have been enhanced for the reader’s benefit. Nevertheless ‘This Boy’s Life’ still captures a raw and entertaining view of Wolff’s coming-of-age story. I thoroughly enjoyed ‘This Boy’s Life’ and would certainly recommend it to any reader old enough to look back and appreciate these adolescent adventures.

In My Head

So today's been quite productive. Woke up feeling really ill, think I might have flu or something, in the least hypochondria-esque way possible! So I didn't know how I was going to get anything done, buying my brother's birthday present (for today!), writing yet more reviews, and then going to some award presentation at school in the evening. I say at school, what I mean is, at my old school, because I've left now, but it's still strange to think of it that way since I was there for seven years. Anyway, I started, well into the afternoon now, by wrapping what I'd already got my brother and giving up on the other ideas, which paid off in the end because someone else got him what I was going to get. Then I actually managed to write two reviews, which are both almost finished, but not quite; I'll do that once I've posted this. One of these was quite an achievement seeing as I can't find the actual book I'm supposed to be reviewing anywhere. Then I felt just about well enough to go into school to get my A-level certificates. I thought it would just be me, Beth and Aphra who bothered to turn up, but nearly the whole year was there. It was really strange. I kept thinking.. ugh when I left school I thought I'll never have to see some of these annoying people again, but I did. Oh, they weren't that bad! It was really nice to be back, but really quite odd. It was great to see Forbsey and Sully babes, and even Tulkinator; it was great to catch up with them all. Kirstie and I spent most of the actual ceremony laughing at the people playing the recorder, and picking out all the lesbians from Year 11 out of the list of names, there are just so many! Oh and laughing at one teacher who claps in the stupidest way I've ever seen. So it was nice; but I wasn't feeling up to going to JRs tonight. So here I am. And I better get cracking on these reviews now. If I finish these two tonight then I've only got one more to go. Yay!

REVIEW: Noughts & Crosses - Malorie Blackman

Here's one of the reviews I've been writing for the Creative Writing half of my university coursework. Comment if you have any thoughts or ideas on how I could improve it, it would be really helpful!!

Blackman, award winning author of children’s novels ‘Thief!’ and ‘Pig-heart Boy’ explores teenage friendship, desire and segregation in this beautifully sculptured romantic thriller that I wish I’d had the imagination to create. Noughts and Crosses is set in a world divided by race, where the Crosses (the black people) dominate over the Noughts (the white people), and prejudice is a key theme. The story is narrated by Sephy, a young Cross girl from a privileged and powerful family, and Callum, a slightly older Nought boy who’s family live in poverty, in alternate chapters. Sephy and Callum have been friends since childhood, and maintain their friendship in secret as their families drift apart, despite their relationship being severely frowned upon. The novel follows these two teenagers as they grow up in the same town, but in entirely different worlds, and as they both face their own difficulties, their relationship morphs into something much deeper than friendship. A tragic twist in the tale provides an unpredictable ending, but readers should follow the story as it progresses in the other books of the series, for more shocks, surprises and impeccable writing.

Noughts and Crosses is an extremely cleverly written novel, which dabbles with the complex issues of racism and terrorism, and ventures into a reversal of racial history as we know it in the world we live in, displaying the immense bravery of Blackman’s writing. This is a novel that not only inspired me, but changed my outlook on life. It can be read over and over again, and still have a colossal effect on the reader every time.

It’s easy to mistake this novel as one about young teenagers for young teenagers, and although I first read it at a young age, some of the issues dealt with are aimed at a more mature reader. I would highly recommend this work of genius to any confident reader aged 14 upwards.

No More

New notebook, new pen, new beginning. It's little, for all my little thoughts. London never lets me down; it's always eventful, but I have to stop it, even if that means not visiting one of my favourite places on Earth for a very long time. It's gone too far now, I mean, you're engaged, and there are rings. And you really do love her, and you don't love me; that's the difference. But it's not a problem, because I don't want it. What you two have is real, and I don't want to ruin it. It's rare what you have. I don't want to be a home-wrecker, and I don't want to break her heart by her finding out. It happened, but it doesn't have to happen again. I have to stop looking at you that way, and you have to stop the eye contact. Because I really value you as a friend. And if we don't find Erica, we'll need to pull together, because I feel like it's our fault she's gone missing. We didn't look after her, we left her there, and for some reason thought she'd be okay with those people from the club, they seemed lovely. I haven't cried yet, I'm too scared something's happened.

My Favourite Covers 05/01/11

Right, this week for my favourite covers, I'm going to pick some that I've been listening to and loving for years.

1) Regina Spektor's beautiful cover of the classic Chelsea Hotel #2 originally by Leonard Cohen. I've always loved this song, but Regina brings a whole new dimension to the song. I really love this cover.


2) Nerina Pallot's cover of 'Frank Mills' from the musical Hair. I hadn't heard this song before I saw Nerina sing it live, but it really is beautiful. In my opinion this is one of the only songs in existance that works despite the fact that it doesn't rhyme. A stunning cover. Unfortuately I could only find one clip of this, and it's sandwiched between two other songs, but it's still definitely worth a listen.



3) Emiliana Torrini's breathtakingly beautiful cover of 'I Hope That I Don't Fall in Love With You', originally by Tom Waits has been one of my favourite songs for a number of years now. This is definitely worth a listen, especially if you haven't heard Emiliana's music before. Such a great cover, check it out!!

This Time Last Year 04/01/11

Once again.. on time, I'm pretty proud of myself! Here's an extract from my mini-blog last year. Check back for more next week!

5th January 2010

'I cried a lot about you today Jordan, was watching something on the tv about a girl who was refusing a heart transplant; a chance to live. And I just kept thinking about how you didn't get a chance or even a choice of a chance, and she had one but didn't want to take it. Life is so unfair. So I cried and cried and made my face all red. Hope you're having lots of fun up there babe :) Its really starting to kick in now that I'll never see you again, and that thought is so, so crazy. I miss you chef. Love you lots, and I'll talk to you soon. Xxxxx'

Scaling Fences

Am I really about to do this? Go and try to be friends with the people I don't want to know? I spoke to you today. Because it seemed like you were actually genuinely worried about me. Which is.. new. I didn't realise you actually cared. But you do, from talking to you, I realise that you actually do care. And I'm being a bitch trying to cut you out of my life. I just didn't know how to deal with it all. It was too much for me to cope with. And I'm hoping it won't be too hard to cope with when I actually see you. And if there's a big massive shiny engagement ring I will probably cry. I don't need reminding, thanks. But I'm going to try and be friends with you. I mean, I overcame one hurdle today and started my uni work. So can this one really be that much harder to scale?

Blog Of The Week 03/01/11

Once again, my blog is on time, well almost, if I manage to write it and post it in the next ten minutes before midnight. Okay so I'm not sure this actually counts as a blog.. but it's a collection of photographs taken between 1992 and 2004 that's part of a bigger website. Since it's not really a blog it doesn't have a blog title, so I'm going to name it: David Shrigley's Photo's.. and I found it via StumbleUpon, click here to check all the photos out. Just click back to take you to the full list. I love how creative all of the photographs are, they are definitely worth checking out and worthy of my first non-blog Blog of the Week!!

Fear

I wrote this last night, but it was so late I didn't get around to typing it up.

Just lately the only way I know I'm alive is that I still get scared. Irrational fear, but it rips through me like fire. Like I watched a film about a man who drowned three women in a bath, and I get scared walking down the street. My street. You can't get drowned walking down my street. And a while back I read a conspiracy theory about Paul McCartney, and I was so scared I couldn't move from this one corner of my bedroom. It wasn't even scary, but I was petrified, for no reason. Everything else that used to make me feel alive, or even just remind me that I was alive has lost effect. Pain, nothing. I am becoming a recluse. Phone off. Abandoning Facebook and Twitter. I will fade away and update only this blog. People will forget I ever existed. Sounds good to me.

I turned my phone on, just now, and Izzie has been bombarding me with texts that lay unread until now. She's worried, everyone's worried. Blah. I wrote a ridiculously long Facebook message to her as a reply, said my phone's broken. Explained Bipolar with an analogy about a car. It was pretty creative. So I'm not doing so well at becoming a recluse. But I want to be one. I'm always wanting the simpler option and it sounds easier to just be a nobody.

Lisbon

Everytime I watch Love Actually, it makes me want to go back to Portgual; back to Lisbon. It's the music that plays when the story focuses in on Aurelia and Jamie. A dusty guitar in a lonely bar, olive trees, drinking wine perched on the edge of illuminated fountains. I want to jump on a tram, and not worry about where I end up. Wander the winding streets and get lost in a place I don't know well, but love more than any other. The bluest skies you'll ever see, beyond an ocean of terracotta rooves. I want to spend my days writing anything and everything; inspired by the scenery and the people. And my nights in one of the squares, busking with my guitar. It just sounds perfect. Learning the language, learning the culture, embracing everything that this beautiful country has to offer. I'm so sick of England. I need to escape. Lisbon. Take me there?

Talking

When you say we need to talk, it makes me scared, and I don't really know why. I think it's because you never really reveal whether it's going to be a positive talk or a negative talk, and I'm the kind of person who appreciates a hint. It was just three little lines in your blog, but it felt like the whole post was leading up to saying something. I'm a bit scared, it's probably going to be something that I don't want to hear, like you've decided Kingston isn't for you, or.. I don't know. Something worse. Although you've measured the days out to the 1st of September, which is when Kingston say they start their terms. Which they don't, actually.. you'll end up moving in around the 16th, with enrollment the next day, a week of introductory lectures, then you'll start. I don't know if that makes you happy, another couple of weeks of summer.. or unhappy that it's longer til you can finally grasp your freedom. Also, I am extremely jealous of the Grey's Anatomy DS game. I saw it in the summer and thought about getting it but I lost the charger and was using my brothers and he wouldn't let me take it to university with me. Is it actually good? I might buy it. Anyway. The end.

PS. Talk to me? And if you don't know how.. you could always try writing in french?

Postsecret 02/01/11

So I'm actually posting my Postsecret post on time this week! Keeping in nicely with my new year's resolution to post my blogs when I say I will. Just been looking at this week's Postsecrets, which you can check out by clicking right here. There are lots of good ones this week. Here are a couple of postcards I've picked out, as secrets of my own.

I'm not sure if I'm waiting for someone or something to come back, except perhaps my sanity or youth. But I don't expect they'll ever return. Certainly not the latter anyway. But I always feel like I'm waiting for something. Some people feel like they've always forgotten something, but I always feel like I'm waiting. I remember in the summer, when I'd been waiting so long for my exam results, and to find out whether or not I'd got into university, and then everything came at once. And then, there was nothing left for me to wait for. It was really unsettling. But that feeling passed after a while. And I'm still waiting. I don't know what for. The end maybe? Or for somebody to come back to me; I don't know. But what I do know is that I don't know what I'm living for. I just keep going in the hope that what I'm waiting for turns up, and turns out to be good.

This one isn't my secret; I'm still thinking.