3am

Today was supposed to be my day of productivity, a day for poem writing. I've written one, but nothing came to me until about 3am. Nothing ever comes before 3am. I think it's the hour things start happening inside my head. I need it to be 3 am all day long. I feel like the poem collection is coming together rather slowly, but I don't know how to speed up the process with only one 3am in the day. And it's straining staying up all the time. But I guess this is what lies ahead until I've written enough poems. The problem I'm having is thinking of things to write about. I think I need a day out in central London to get inspired. Trouble is I'm pretty broke until the next loan comes in so that's not really an option. But if anyone has any ideas.. let me know? I just need to get my brain in gear.

And Here The Fun Begins

I had my meeting today, it was brief but very interesting. I took him the three latest poems I've written and he said I was a wonder child. So here's the plan. See how quickly I can churn out 30-40 poems, and boom, the publishing process will begin. It's actually looking like this is a dead cert. Just think, this time next year I could actually have my own published little collection of poems. My own book! On a shelf! But yes, he said we can work on this on any sort of time scale, over a couple of years or less, but I want to try and see how fast I can get the poetry out of me. And we talked about how exactly he'd market me, really interesting. Exciting times people! Anyway I was doing a little light research tonight and I discovered said poet is not just a poet but also an actual publisher, so I suppose he'd be the one publishing it. Which cuts out a lot of the process I assume. But yes, it's a really exciting opportunity. Just got to take the bull by the horns and see where it takes me to.

Chuffing Poetry

You know what, okay, I'm going to tell my good news because I think I am actually happy about it.
Basically I got a pretty good mark (okay the best in the year) for my poetry module and a certain poet I am friendly with is interested in helping me put together a collection with a view to publishing. Which is quite exciting, in fact, I have a meeting tomorrow about my writing career. Anyway, I've known this for a few weeks now, and was umming and aahing over the whole thing because, let's be honest, poetry isn't really my thing. In fact I kind of hate it. So much that I actually remember tweeting when I submitted the work for the poetry module 'That beautiful moment when you can throw your anthology of poems across the room and know you never have to pick it up again'. Ha. So really.. I appreciated what an amazing opportunity it was, but I wasn't sure it was really for me. For the most part I was just being miffed as to why I can't be good at something I enjoy. Sod's law innit.

Anyway. For this meeting tomorrow said poet requested that I bring what I'd been working on since we last met. Which, obviously, is nothing because I hate poetry. So I figured, cos I quite like this chap, that I would force out some poetry, and actually it's kind of really easy. I've just written two villanelles and another six stanza poem. Took a couple of hours. So I figured, if he likes these tomorrow, I might as well give this whole poetry business as whirl because if it makes me money, it sounds like a plan. And then, if I do actually get a poetry collection published, then my name would be out there if I then wanted to publish a novel. So, I'll give you an update on events after tomorrow. Now I must go and work on my 'I love poetry it's so fascinating' face.

Apologizing Uninformed

I don't want to become the person who apologizes for things she doesn't even know she's done. 'I'm sorry if I did something wrong.' How can you be sorry when you don't know what you've done? I suppose I said it because I'm sorry if I upset you, because I didn't mean to. You're very... eratic. I don't know where I stand with you, I don't know what annoys you yet, and what makes you smile. But you make me smile. I just want you here all the time but even though the other night went exactly how I wanted it to, I can't help but feel that I've upset you, and if I have, I'm sorry, because you know all I want is to make you happy. It's difficult this. Maybe I'm out of the swing of things but I don't remember it being this hard.

On another note, I have had a very productive day, writing wise. 600 word short story, done. 5 page radio play, done. Poem, done. Tomorrow I just have to sort out my 1,000 words of Dylan, just got to pick which part I'm going to submit and tighten it up a bit, then write another two poems and then I'll be up to speed. It was about time I started to do some work, I've been slacking this semester. But I don't feel so behind anymore, I feel like I've made a start and that's always the hardest bit.

One Last Try

If you're not here by midnight, I might just give up. It's hard work, all I want is to see you. One hour. I'm counting.

I Knew It

I knew you wouldn't show. I think you get really nervous. Saturday? Will it happen though? You confuse me so much. Complicated, this one. Let me try and make you happy? Go on, I dare you. You funny, beautiful little thing.

What will I do with you?

Catching The Uncatchable Fish

I think it's off. I just knew it would happen. I think she's just hard to catch, I just wish I could catch her. It's never easy. I so want to see her, I know we could be good together. Nothing's ever simple, I thought I deserved a break for once, but obviously not. Please, please, please. I have everything crossed, I so want to see you.

Ahead Of Myself

Yesterday I got all caught up on something that really meant nothing. My brain was working overtime and made me a little bit crazy for a bit. But I'm back on planet earth now. I think I just need to learn to trust people. I so hope I can trust that she'll come on Thursday.

Why Not?

She squeezes my hand when I talk about my Dad. She insists she's the one who gets to spoil me, not the other way around. She falls over when she's drunk, and when I go to help her up she pulls me down with her.

She's what I need.

Take My Hand, And Take My Whole Life Too

I think I've turned into a soppy romantic fool. That MCR phase didn't last long, probably because Katy has forbidden me from listening to them at any time when she's within earshot. Bad times! Anyway.. it's all got a bit soppy, I think maybe something which I'd come to terms with as being off might be back on? And it's prompted a change in music. I wrote something in my notebook today. It's been ages since I actually wrote what I was thinking out on paper. It's a bit scary I think because it makes things concrete, once they're down in black and white. I don't want to get caught up in silly things, but. I don't know. She makes me smile. And smiling is good, right?

I Am Not Afraid To Walk This World Alone

Just rekindling my love for My Chemical Romance. Before yesterday I hadn't listened to any of their songs for probably at least three and a half or four years. But that car ride home last night was like a smack in the face, mainly the ears, it was like they woke up and wondered why I hadn't listened to any of those songs recently. But I still knew all the words. I don't think I realised at the time just how good some of their songs are. I suppose as I've got 'a little older, a little wiser' I've begun to appreciate good music more. I don't know how these songs droped off the face of my ipod, I don't know why they've been missing from my life, but I do know that they're back for good. It's like they have a whole different meaning for me. The music never changes, but you do.

Big Spoon, Little Spoon

Don't you worry there my honey

We might not have any money

But we've got our love to pay the bills

Maybe I think you're cute and funny

Maybe I want to do what bunnies do with you, if you know what I mean

Oh lets get rich and buy our parents homes in the south of France

Lets get rich and give everybody nice sweaters and teach them how to dance

Lets get rich and build a house on a mountain making everybody look like ants

From way up there, you and I, you and I

Well you might be a bit confused

And you might be a little bit bruised

But baby how we spoon like no one else

So I will help you read those books

If you will soothe my worried looks

And we will put the lonesome on the shelf

Lets get rich and buy our parents homes in the south of France

Lets get rich and give everybody nice sweaters and teach them how to dance

Lets get rich and build a house on a mountain making everybody look like ants

From way up there, you and I, 

You and I

In a perfect world, you'd be my big spoon, I'd be your little spoon, we'd stay in bed Sundays and eat pancakes in bed, then go down to the kitchen in our underwear when we'd run out and make more.

I just don't know if this is a perfect world.

As Time Passes

I am forever haunted by the events of that morning. I feel like I need to know everything in exact detail to finally come to terms with it. I want times, events in a chronological order, I want last words, last efforts. I just want to know how that last day went. It's been nearly three months. And I miss him like hell.