Postsecret 10/04/11

Sorry, I'm a few days late with my Postsecret post this week, sorry! Just had a browse through the secrets and picked out my favourite. Check out this weeks secrets by clicking here.

As you may know I'm a bit of a Twitter addict. Twitter's strange, because you can have complex relationships with people you've never met, interlinking conversations with multiple people at once. You build up a knowledge of a person based on a collection of 140 character tweets. But it's brilliant in the way that you can send out a message to all your followers, hundreds of people, and it can be completely indirect to most, but be very clear to a small number of those followers. And you do have to wonder sometimes whether someone's indirect tweets are ever aimed at you. I think I only wonder about it because I do it to other people. Guilty as charged!

The Freedom Of The Mind

The freedom of the mind is a beautiful thing. Most of the time you can't say what you want to, unless you're alone. But sometimes even then your thoughts are too honest to be spoken out loud, to be thrust out into the real world. But inside your head, you can think whatever you like. You can think terrible things about the person sat next to you, and nobody will ever know. You have the power to destroy a whole manner of things, but you don't because nobody can hear what you say with the voice inside your mind. I don't use the freedom of my mind to its full extent because I tend to be quite a paranoid person. I think that since we are unaware of what so much of the brain is capable of doing, there must be the possibility that somewhere somebody has mastered mind-reading and would be able to hear my thoughts. And if somebody did develop that skill, the whole world as we know it would collapse. Think how much of everyday life relies on secrets. Bank details, computer passwords, shop till codes, business breakthroughs, things would totally fall apart. Relationships would end, families would split up, mind-reading could prove more fatal than nuclear bombs. I think I'll start using the freedom of my mind as much as possible before evolution gets the better of us.

Impossible Task

So on Wednesday night I had to complete a writing task for creative writing, due in the next day. It was 500 words, and it wouldn't have been so hard had the instructions been less complicated. I worked on it all day and the ideas only came to me at 3am. I gave it a quick edit this morning before I had to read it out so this is the second draft. First take a look at the instructions we were given, and see what I mean by impossible. Or near impossible. But I gave it a stab.

'Describe a building in 500 words. It must be from the perspective of a woman or man who has just lost their son in the war. You must not mention the son, or the war.'


Here's my take on the task.

I stood at the bottom of a long winding driveway, the ground littered with confetti trodden into the grass. I looked up at the turreted roof and grand spire and acknowledged the intricate detail on a background of blood-red skies. I’d been here before, but never had the time to stop and really look. I’d always been rushing, usually in vibrant colours and oversized hats. Only a few times in monotone like today. But I blended in well with the surroundings; dull brick, grey stones cluttering the lawn. I wondered how anybody could observe a joyous occasion in this morbid building. How could anyone welcome new life into the world or celebrate the joining of two people in marriage surrounded by the constant reminder of death? Right now, stood just inside the gates I was just meters away from bodies buried beneath the ground. Walking over memories and lives cut short. Treading on the past.

The wind whipped up and the trees swayed in sympathy. I pulled my black coat more tightly around myself and wondered why I’d stood there in the cold for such a long time. My eyes narrowed as I watched church-goers returning down the path with smiles plastered across their faces, enlightened with a new-found appreciation for life. I sighed and doubted that I’d find any here.

A woman walked past me and leant down before a gravestone. Of all the places you could visit to remember somebody you lost, this had to be one of the most ghastly. So there were flowers and notes claiming everlasting love but these mere amenities didn’t cloud the overwhelming deathly atmosphere.

It was eerie too, and lonely. The uncomfortable pews for seats and long, echoey rooms. Such a mysterious building when you’re alone. I bit my lip. Candles lined the front wall and seemed to flicker as the sound of my footsteps filled the room. As I paced down the central aisle my eyes rose to the stained glass window casting a red haze over the sanctuary. Reaching the front I struck a match against a matchbox. It snapped in two and fell to the floor. Frowning I took out another match and struck it three times before it lit. I picked up a long white candle with the other hand and held the flame to the wick. Replacing it in its stand I forced a brave smile and sent up a silent prayer. The flame danced before my eyes but only brought distressing images to my mind. I took a twenty pound note out of my purse and posted it into the donation box. And with that I turned and left. I refused to cry as I knew the next time I’d be there there’d be no way I’d be able to fight back the tears.

Monophthongs & Diphthongs

I don't understand how it's so easy to learn the alphabet when you're three or four, but it's so hard to learn the international phonetic alphabet now that I'm 18. Granted, there are 44 phonemes, but some of them are just impossible to remember. I'm sure I could have designed better symbols for most of the diphthongs and monophthongs. I do like those words though, especially because they have four consonants next to each other and that amuses my linguistically trained mind. I've made revision cards for the exam tomorrow, and most of it is sinking in, just not the symbols I need to learn. I'm going into uni in a bit to meet Alicia for a revision session, so hopefully we'll come up with a witty way of remembering them. I think I preferred revising for Chemistry A level. That's not good...

Postsecret 03/04/11

It's that Postsecret time of week again kids! Just had a look at all the postcards and there's quite a good variety of secrets this week. Click here to check them out for yourself!

I tend to be a person who doesn't have many regrets. But I always think that towards the end of life, when you have lots of time to think over the things you've achieved or done, the things that you remember most are the things you shouldn't have done in the first place. They become more memorable because they were more fun, more outgoing, more risky and more amusing than what you should have been doing. Over the years I've made a fair number of irresponsible decisions, but I hope that, whilst attempting not to ruin my life, I make more in the future. I want to have some brilliant things to look back on when I'm older. Also, I love how drunk this sheep looks.

My Favourite Covers 03/04/11

So it's half two in the morning, I should be asleep, but I was just randomly browsing youtube. And I found this. It's absolutely brilliant! Discover the secret behind Rebecca Black's youtube anti-hit 'Friday' in this fantastic cover. It's turned a bloody annoying song into something I'm now listening to for the fourth time. I much prefer this version! Check it out!

Running

I wish I knew if there was something I could do. Turning back the clocks simply isn't an option, but I'm sure there must be something. Because I actually really miss you. We were running at the same speed for such a long time, completely in sync, but you've sprinted into the distance and forgotten to look back. I think they call it moving on. But you just moved onwards. I don't think we were running in a race, I never pictured a finish line. It was about the journey, not the destination. But now you're running so fast that I don't know if I'll ever catch up. But it's not about the speed. It's about the distance. You want to be as far as possible. And I don't blame you. And as much as it would have hurt me that you just ran away, it hurts more that you never said why. You thought about it, teased me, 'we need to talk'. But then you legged it, faster than lightning into the vanishing distance. You've passed the sound barrier and hurdled over the horizon. Gone. And I fucking miss you. I miss you so much.