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.