Student Life once more...

A month. Four weeks. About 30 days. Doesn't seem like much does it?

Never does to me anyhow.

And because of that, it often amazes me how much can change in so little time.

I has been, one month and a day since I started my first day at college - and I have to say, a lot feels like it's changed.

I've made many (maybe not many.... a couple.... some?) of friends (well, people that can tolerate me at least!). These people have made my reintroduction to the British education system exciting, interesting and more than fun. They have been my reminders, bag holder, problem fixers and connection makers, and have done more than their fair share to help me out.

I'm having a whole load of fun with each of my courses (three, or now two, of which I was never intending to do.) Learning about the world, healthy debate, strange views, extreme feminists and fantastic literature, all combined to make my learning experience fantastic.

I have met some awesome musicians, all very talented, and indulge myself by attending the open mic once a week, and listening to them cock-up a plethora of my favourite songs, to the point, almost, of tears (I mean who could do that to 'Sweet Child Of Mine'? Or even *clutches face in horror* 'Smells Like Teen Spirit'?!).

I have found the worlds most wonderful T-rex impression, and fallen for it, helplessly.

I have been thrown in at the deep end in biology, and learnt all about things I could never possibly hope to understand, and then run away again.

I have developed several different versions of the same handshake for several different people (and am now becoming increasingly confused about who's is who's).

I have been served what is possibly the worlds worst rendition of fish and chips.

It is possible (although I myself am not entirely sure) that I have been a underground alcohol trafficking mule - because that blackcurrant juice did not taste right....

I have fallen down a half flight of stairs twice (thankfully, both times, no one was present to see.)

I have learnt a load of psychology theory that, in reality, I already knew....

I've gotten myself a new job - and managed to break only one EMPTY beer bottle so far.

In essence, it has been a month of great change. I say great because that's what they are - I've had a fantastic time, it's been wonderful, and as much as I miss my old job and old friends, I love where I am now. Change is wonderful, to be stuck in a life as organic and flowing as this, never knowing what might happen and occur - and it can be frightening, terrifying to know that it might all go wrong any second; one false word, one false step into the street and BAM! It's all gone... But that's what makes it so thrilling. Right?

I left where I was, not only because I wanted to pursue this academic adventure, not only to make friends, but to cut off and cover the exposed nerves that were part of my "old life". Some parts remain, some friends stay in touch, and I welcome them. But to those who tried to hold me back for their own selfish means and whims, I feel, even at this early stage, that I can say I have achieved. This new life, this new adventure that I am partaking in - It's amazing! And I can't thank everyone who supported me, helped me and encouraged me enough, because they've helped make it possible.

And I can't thank all my new friends enough, for their support and guidance, laughter and encouragement. They have been what has truly made my experience so brilliant. It wouldn't be right unless I included them (two specifically) properly.

 Hayley, who is there when I need to find a police station, advice on mascara and a girly afternoon. Whom I support wholeheartedly in all her funny adventures, and whom I never miss a back-handed compliment from.Hayley, who bravely weathers my strange fashion sense, and awful renditions of classic rock songs that tend to rhyme with her name. Hayley - I am sorry I stole your friends, but they have added immensely to my life, some of them more than others *wink wink*.

James, the one with the perfect T-rex impression, who courageously braved a Nerf war in my house, ate my food and spoke with my family. James, who puts up with my cruel ridicule, my mockery of his hair, my over-childishness, my strange musical whims, idiocy and freezing cold hands. James.....

....you're alright ....really.

I would like to thank all of the people at Pizza Hut for employing me and helping me through my training, as well as occasionally giving me the offcuts for they're waffles.... however, none of them are my friends, so they'll never see it anyway.

Change isn't always bad; your life will flow with change, and it may terrify or excite beyond measures you've ever experienced, but your life will shape and grow around change - and when someone tells you that you can't, rub it in their stupid face, because they're wrong.  You can.

And so, click here for a song, because I've just worked out how to do this ting!

Lazing on a Sunday afternoon...

It’s been a while, I understand. However, as silly as it might seem, I’ve had very little to say on any matter in the silent times that have been. My problems are repetitive, and I’m sure no one really wants to hear them. The joys in my life are small and a little silly, so I decided that no news might well be good news for you all. 

But, elongated silence might well lead you to believe that I had given up my writing altogether, which (unfortunately for some) is not the case.

I am on the brink of a change, great change in my life. I have left my job, for favour of pursuing my interest in psychology.  New job opportunities await, new people, new friends, a new life. This of course will go along with the already made changes of a new house, a new hair colour and a new outlook on men (having finally taken the advice that they’re all knob-heads seriously (sorry guys)).

As well as being full of the new, change often means leaving behind things you’ve held onto in the past. Letting people, things, habits, choices and lifestyles behind that you had thought were you, but cannot be encompassed in your new life in a healthy way. And saddening as that realisation is, you must let go of some of your past in order to obtain your future. You will, in the long run, benefit from your choices – and it is the knowledge of this that will bring you through the sacrifice.

However, I’m not here to talk about the morbid issues. I am here in fact, to talk about Sunday afternoons.

Sunday afternoons, all my life have held particular importance out of the week. As a young child, Sunday afternoons would be bath night, a night I would despise and make torturous for all those around me. Much screaming, futile resistance and inevitable crying would take place as my parents in turn attempted to wash and comb the tangled mess of my hair. To make up for that, my father and I would often spend the day out together, on the beach or in the woods, and get fish and chips on the way home, and then he would wash my hair, and begin the arduous task of brushing, and the older I got, the less I moaned.

When I came to Dorset, Sunday afternoons would be spent collecting  my mother from the pub, sitting at the polished wooden bar with the regulars, eating the left over new potatoes and drinking the watered down pub coke. On occasion, I would spend the whole afternoon there, helping lay tables, polish cutlery, moaning that I was bored, and eating Sunday lunch, always with a healthy portion of ice-cream afterwards.

Nowadays, I very rarely do anything on a Sunday afternoon. I’ll sleep in late, rise and dress sloppily – comfy jeans, untamed hair, no makeup and loose t-shirts being my own personal definition of sloppily – and I’ll sit around on the Internet for a few hours, pretending to find things of interest that I’ve already read 10 times.

Summer Sundays hold a particular charm – the lazy sun that lingers through the long evenings, casting golden glows in the halls of my new house. Reclining on the sofa, knitting, an LP playing, my mother practising base and my family chatting and going about their evening. Preparations are made for the evening meal, my mother usually having slaved over it, though it is rarely a typical roast dinner, usually some sort of model around it instead. We all sit together and eat these days, which I love. And sometimes, afterwards, we’ll sit around and play a board game (which I pretend to hate but really I love) or even dance, around the living room, my mother and I, eliciting odd looks from the boys of the house on occasion.

And even when the evenings turn grey and the chill descends, when we’re all huddled in blankets around a large fire; even then, Sundays hold this rosy glow of warmth, through the shared smiles and moments.

In these shared moments is the best place to experience the feeling. I can look back on previous Sundays, on this here grey one, and see the glow and feel the warmth of the memory only to an extent. The best place to live these memories, is inside the moments that create them, which is why I cannot fully express or describe the feeling to you – only you would be able to live in your moments and understand the feeling, but would struggle to create an apposite description for yourself either.

I spend Sunday nights, when I’ve said goodnight and finally gone up to my room, much like any other night; I lie awake and think for many hours – sometimes browsing the Internet, sometimes listening to music, sometimes writing and sometimes sketching – but when I’ve exhausted these activities, and finally laid down, I spend many more hours lying awake in the dark and pondering things – Life, the universe, everything, whether jellyfish have a singular, advanced consciousness, or whether they’ve simply a primal functioning. Sometimes, my brain produces thoughts in a manner not unlike creating quotes, or simple lines that aren’t all that simple at all. For instance, Last Sunday, I had a thought that made quite the impression;

Life is about creating and living in the moments that take our breath away. It is in that exact circumstance that life is measured.

This may have already occurred too many of you – it may simply be that I’m late in catching up with this idea, but I remember being a little awestruck when I thought of it, for one reason among many. This reason is that I’m often looking for a way to measure the success of life, but unlike someone, who view financial stability or great career achievements or amazing academic progress, I’ve always deemed my success to come from experiencing love, in all it’s wonderful formats. But I realised then, that I had found a better measurement – the moments which take your breath away. The sort of moments that make lasting beautiful memories, big or small. The moments that leave you in awe. I realised then, that as well as waiting for these moments to happen, you can take part in creating them.

Spending time with your family, taking that walk in the afternoon, sitting on the roof in that thunderstorm (sometimes ill advised but I certainly enjoyed it!), saying yes to that date, dancing/leaping/laughing/running in the rain – Because even if it ends horribly, even if it’s terrible and you feel you made a horrible decision, and you’re stood there at the end soaking wet and sniffling – you gave chance to a moment that otherwise wouldn’t have happened – you created a moment, you have that story to tell at dinner parties, where people will laugh and forfeit their own silly stories.

These moments, usually, aren’t all as “extreme” as that – sometimes just a lovely Sunday afternoon is a moment in life – a memory that will stay with you through your time.

This may all seem terribly naïve, but I certainly know people whom don’t allow these moments, or even don’t appreciate them fully – but you should, you know who you are, and you should create as many moments as you can. Because you’ll end up as the boring person with no stories to tell at the party.

P.S. I am fully aware that the song is "Sunny afternoon" and not "Sunday afternoon" but you'll have to deal with it, as I couldn't think of another song that seemed to fit.

What do you want from me?! Or I from you.... what?

Sometimes I stop and look at the world around me (usually when prompted) and think about what I want out of life. The answer is simple really, although not always simple to attain.

Love.

Oh tis love, tis love that makes the world goes round. Or sometimes just fucks it all up completely.

Love has always meant a lot to me. It is the only thing I really aim for. While others may spend their time dreaming of vast, famous, successful careers, or trips around the world to see the millions of beautiful things there are, I dream only of surrounding myself with things and people that I love.  To me, that is my sole purpose for existing (as well as being too awesome for words, obviously!).

So, I suppose, the answer to their question is, in the long term, that involves creating a home, and a family with the man I love and children I care for, and in turn, grandchildren I cherish as well. This is what’s important in my world, what makes my world turn.  And it’s odd, because whenever I say this to my family and friends, my employers, or even my boyfriends, they all instantly assume I mean tomorrow! They always say things like,

“Don’t you want to live a bit first? See the world and enjoy yourself before everything else ruins you?”… Or words to that effect. Well, yes, I want to have my own life – I want to go out and get drunk and do stupid things and have fun just like everyone else…. I don’t want a heavily committed relationship tomorrow and kids within the next year. When I say things like that , I’m thinking in about 5 or 10 years’ time. Calm down!

So yeah, I want a family. But it extends beyond that – it extends to my friends as well, of whom I have so few that most I class as family anyway. These people, whom although they are not connected to me by blood, have become connected to me with love, sometimes even stronger than the “necessary” bonds that are formed of blood ties (however gay that may sound of course).

I once – and on occasion still do, when my mind allows me respite from my nightmares – had dreams about my “family” and I (my partner, our friends and our children) all sat around in my kitchen, laughing and talking, reminiscing, while I make batch after batch of pancakes. That’s my perfect day, somewhere far off in the future, but people always assume I want it now.

But I am young, careless and free (as I am frequently reminded) , and so, they ask what I expect of my life now, from my immediate future. Now what I want and what I expect are two very different worlds (we won’t go into what I expect to happen). Now the answer is fundamentally the same, it just takes different forms and leaks onto different planes.

Now, to what people somehow… expect me to want or think I want…

I worry a lot, about my life, about the lives of people around me, and of those whom I love. Now, when I vent these worries, I find the reaction at once odd, embarrassing and hilarious. A large proportion of my friends suggest that perhaps, in order to ease my worries, I should…..

How to put this poetically?...

Indulge in my needs for physical affection…

These are friends suggesting that I use non-committed physical companions, in order to… vent some steam.

But then, the more I think about this, frankly strange, idea, the more I begin to believe that I could never really do it that way…  Because there is, in a sense, always going to be an emotional connection between two people who… you know… and that’s how it should be. However much you try to deny any arising feelings from that, there will always be a connection. So I don’t think that would work at all… however well-intentioned the suggestion is.

Moving swiftly away from that subject of conversation, I begin again to think about what it is I want in the present. Well, I want someone/something to love. Now, I have no passions besides music, in which I possess no reputable talent. In addition, the whole “just buy her a cute fluffy pet to give her attention to.” Really doesn’t work all that well…. So that leaves you with people.

I give as much love as I can to my family (most of the time) and my extended family (which consists of my closest friends). Obviously, they are a huge part of my life, and I would more than likely cease to function without their presence. Unfortunately, however much love you throw at these people, there will still remain a part of you that is not quite sated.  So the next option is to find yourself a partner.

Now, as my friends and family, and everyone who has read my other blogs, will now that in this venture, my efforts remain fruitless.  But my family and I have figured out the precise 

cause of this.

I’m crazy.

Well, not crazy, but perhaps, a tad obsessive – like a lot of women really, in my defence. Now, this never really occurred to me before because, when I’m in a relationship, I have what I want, so this part of me doesn’t show through, and when I’m not, I’m so busy denying the very idea that I’m acting a little odd, that I don’t notice myself being a little odd. But hey, everyone’s got their quirks .

But it’s okay, I’m working on it.

But all I really want, in all honesty, is to give my attention to someone. To spend evenings curled up on the sofa, watching sci-fi or fantasy, Supernatural, or Dr Who, or Breaking Bad (whatever you want really). To introduce to my parents and cook odd meals for (sometimes even successful ones!). To laugh at me when I do stupid things, and to comfort me when I mess up. In essence, I want someone I can be the real me with, and whom enjoys being with the real me – just like everyone wants really. Someone who loves you for you. If not, then I’m certain you should.

But like I said, finding it difficult to find someone who fits that description.

So what’s left when you haven’t quite found that yet? You’re left with yourself…

But, as many of you may understand, loving yourself is tricky. I think a lot of people find it hard because we all, including me, believe we see the “true” and most complete version of ourselves, when that simply isn’t the case. For example, most of us get up in the morning, and look at ourselves in the mirror, and we immediately pick at what we look like, or even the decisions we make or the way we act. We question all these things.  I’m always using the argument “only I see the real me!” but that just isn’t true, I’ve come to realise. I’ve noticed, you predominately notice the bad parts about yourself. You may add a few positives to try and escape that negative part of your being, but you mainly pick on yourself.  So you slap on the “façade” – the face that you want everyone to see and the act that you use every day – and you leave the house, still not loving you, and still not seeing the real you either.

Other people do though, despite what you may believe. They see your acts of kindness, your sense of humour, the way you smile, or laugh, or look at certain people or talk about certain things. When you look at yourself in the mirror, your face lacks the animation that the ordinary and extraordinary events and happenings of everyday life and the people around bring to it, and so you can never see the real you. Very few people ever will.

Which is why it’s so difficult to love yourself – you can’t see yourself. And I think that’s why so many people in the world are co-dependent on the people they love, like their families or their partners – because they need some input f love to support the output they give. Which puts you right back to square one I suppose….

I guess the message is attempt to love yourself, and fill the world and people around you with love and happiness at every opportunity….  

And also, stop asking me what I want, or what I want out of life, or where I see myself in a years’ time, because I haven’t got a fucking clue.

Gut Fellings and Snap Decsions....

That gut feeling you get is difficult. And where the difficulty lies is in trusting it. Because so often, you jump to quickly, aim to fast for what you believe you, and what you think you need, that sometimes, you fail to see the truth that hides in the corners of your mind.

Hidden away behind your oversights and mistakes, behind all the compliments you brush of and all the insults you receive. All the things done wrong to you, and the things you’ve done wrong. All the people you’ve hurt and rejected, and all those whom have hurt and rejected you – behind all the heartbreak, somewhere, lies what you truly want. But they hide so well, camouflage themselves so well, that you don’t truly believe they’re there at all.

So you throw yourself at the mercy of all those whom seem to want you – all those whom might take interest, who make a sly comment, or give you a compliment. And you don’t shield yourself; you don’t protect yourself, and you don’t protect them.... not even those who take you with good intentions. You listen to the gossips – the snipes and japes at who you are and whom you are with, and you end up being broken again, or worse.... breaking another heart. Because it was never your intention; you perhaps, honestly believed it may work, or perhaps you were so fed up of being alone, of not being appreciated or sought by what you truly want, that you resign yourself.

Or perhaps, just perhaps, you inflict it upon yourself. Perhaps, in your head, you call yourself worthless, and you put yourself down, and you seek innocence, purity, fun and vulnerability to destroy. Perhaps that is all that you feel capable of.

Maybe, you uncovered that person, waiting in the corner of your life, hiding in the masquerade of friendship and alias, and bound by your misunderstandings. Maybe you finally found them, and maybe, just maybe, like every other mistake you’ve ever made, you threw yourself at their mercy.... and they didn’t catch you either.

Perhaps they pretended to be friendly – perhaps they were plain and open about how they loathed you – perhaps you were too late – or perhaps there was always someone else. ...

And so you crumble, or you endure – there is little beyond that, and the results are much the same. Those who crumble will do as I have mentioned, and seek more people, as a replacement for the “true happiness” they think they have lost. They may turn, as I said, deliberately (perhaps unconsciously) to spoiling innocence and taking advantage of vulnerability. Those who crumble, have given in to the idea, that their ‘happiness’ is a singular entity – a single person, whom once lost, may never be recovered or properly replaced.

However, those who endure, see hope. They will hold on, and wait their time. They will keep holding on to the very thing that represents their happiness, and they will fight for it with all their might. They not give in on their mission – they may receive side missions, which bide their time, and seek to ensure them of their true wish.

Sometimes, those who endure may wait a very long time. They may find something new – a new happiness; a new object of happiness, a new goal to aim for. But it will become, very hard for them to ever forget, their original ‘true’ happiness. I believe they will always reserve part of their heart for that person. They will always, give anything for that person. And why not – so long as you endure, no harm is done....

Hugs Not Drugs....

There was a situation recently, where upon leaving work, I was following a relatively older- and therefore some would say, more experienced – gentleman (debatable) up through the yard where I worked. I noticed, quite plainly as one might, that he was smoking a Cigarette, one of the crude handmade fashion. And, a few steps later, I noticed the seemingly impenetrable aura of cannabis scent that surrounded this particular guy.

Now I wont pretend to not know what it smells like, and I wont pretend to not understand – but what I simply do not understand is how you wander around the streets of your hometown, smoking that, and emitting a cloud strong enough to waste a horse, when you know damn well it’s really quite Illegal! If you walked past a policeman, or he happened to bump into you, he’d have you in a minute.  I get the same issue when I walk through a particular section of a council estate in Gillingham, there is a certain scent of “giggle weed” in the air, always around a house, and that house very particularly.... now, If a officer of the law strolled by, and noticed that, their suspicion would easily lead them to take action on your house. Once again, the same issue occurs on Facebook regularly – now I’ll admit, I have friends who smoke weed. Good for them, I couldn’t care less, so long as you don’t ram it down my throat I don’t give a crap. But if you choose to share shit tonnes of pictures, and update you’re status in such a way that obviously tells people you take drugs, or smoke weed –WHAT THE HELL!? That is to fundamentally ignore the fact that everything, you post, share and write is monitored - I mean, I’ve posted things that I regret, but nothing that clearly admits that I regularly partake in something that’s illegal – that’s stupid! Police could find that at anytime – it’s very easy to report that kind of idiocy! And you won’t be giggling when they do. 

It’s not cool, it’s not big, and it’s not clever. 

Take drugs, that’s fine, whatever floats your boat – just don’t broadcast it. Despite all you hope for, it’s not legal yet...

The next part of my blogging rant is still about drugs, but more about their production and consumption on a practical level. 

The other day, when the sun was shining and the yard was bathed in a nice relaxed atmosphere, the conversation with two friends of mine turned to Breaking Bad. Now I don’t watch Breaking Bad, but given the inevitable stream of information that comes your way on the Internet these days, I know pretty much what it’s about. I also know that Meth (the subject of the show) is highly addictive and can mess people up – a lot. And so, one of my friends stated that they would much prefer to make less money, and produce a drug that made people much happier during use, and didn’t hurt or ‘mess up’ the user at all. We went through the pros and cons of all different drugs, and it was an interesting conversation. 

Later on, on my journey home, I was thinking about just how much I hate people who make drugs that they know are going to fuck people up. Marijuana is a perfectly nice, relaxed, safe drug – yeah sure, there are risks, but there are risks with everything, so deal with it – But there are things like Crack, Cocaine and Heroin, that just fuck people up, and people make things – they mix and create new drugs, in an attempt to get a bigger high or a better trip, but ultimately, people just get hurt. You should create and sell something that means people will enjoy themselves, not spend the evening passed out and drowning in a pool of your own vomit – that’s not the point of drugs.

And then there’s addiction - i don’t know what it’s like to be addicted to something (except possibly potatoes), but i understand okay – I understand it’s a struggle.

There are people in the world who have very serious problems – emotional trauma, psychological issues and other such difficulties. Some of these people, inevitably, will seek out a way to numb and control the pain and anger they feel because of these problems – some of these people, will turn to drugs, in an attempt to block out their world, escape to a new one, or simply qualm their nerves - but these people will become addicted, instead of the drug simply being their coping mechanism (which is a dangerous place to be anyway) it becomes how they live – it becomes how they function. It becomes the reason they wake up in the morning and get out of bed, and it becomes the only reason they are alive. But are they even alive, or are they simply existing?

You see, the purpose of life, in my view, is to enjoy yourself, and make the most of it, which is why I accept the use of recreational drugs – even if it isn’t my thing, I still want to people to enjoy themselves, and if drugs do that for you, then that’s fine by me. But when these drugs, even by name, are not medicinal in the psychological/mental side of things – there is debate about their physical medicinal value – they should not be used in such a way, because they simply become a new problem that you have to try and solve, on top of the problem you were trying to solve with the drugs in the first place. That goes against the entire point of drugs – drugs are to be enjoyed, they are to be enjoyed because they are different – they are a difference in routine, a change in how you usually work, feel and experience things. However, if you being to take drugs constantly and they simply become the routine, you lose that effect, and you lose what is special about them. And then, you lose the entire point – so why bother?

You will only create hassle for yourself...

Being a disbelieving sceptic....(Part Three)...

Now, as I'm a redhead, may of you will understand that I have no soul... or so people seem to believe. My friends state I sold my soul for hair dye, and that I will now burn for eternity in the fiery pits of Satan's sauna..... 

Whereas I believe I have no soul, I don't believe that I will receive any divine punishment for the "crime". 

In fact, I don't believe anyone has a soul... I believe we are all meaty cases wondering on a (possibly) lone inhabited planet, and that we are controlled entirely by electrical impulses. 

By this, I'm not saying that we don't truly have an independent conscious, nor am I saying that no other creature does.... but given that an octopus is considered fairly intelligent among creatures, but has the mentality of a 3 year old toddler, I think it's fair to say that humans come out on top of the evolutionary heap. 

That's not to say other creatures are not intelligent - they are, scarily so sometimes - but none seem to have evolved quite as much as people. And that is the reason they are intelligent, and they do the things they do, is because they have evolved a pattern, and leaned a behaviour or technique, that aids them in surviving in the wild habitats which they inhabit. It is simply that pure animal instinct, that drives them to eat, thrive and multiply, by whatever means necessary. Just like in the same was as people have leaned everything they need to survive.... but we are simply further evolved than our primate counterparts. This higher intelligence, has allowed us to discover wonderful and amazing thing, to help the world be a better place, and help the human population thrive. 

However, human consciousness seems to be a curse to the world as well - with a further developed conscience, we have created myths and fables which have torn sections of the world apart, and caused horrible wars, and great crimes to humanity. We have allowed our opinions to divide us so much, that the world now seems to be split into extreme factions. There are those of us however, who feel the need to fight against this difficulty, and try and heal the wounds torn in the world by man kinds own fatal fear.... 

The fear to admit, that you have no idea what is happening.... 

See, I believe that mankind, that all people, have a fear of the unknown, and the unexplainable.... so they invent religions, philosophies and reasons for the terrible things that happen in the world, they cannot control, or to attempt to control the people, who are also afraid, and allow their fear to control what they do.... 

And that's where the invention of a soul comes in. People are afraid of the unknown, and nobody knows what really drives us, what guides us in life and controls who we are. The truth is it's nothing - we are simply lumps of flesh wondering around, controlled entirely by electrical impulses caused by chemical activity in our brains... but people find this difficult to fathom, the idea that we are probably alone in a universe with no meaning or control, or no purpose - they begin to think "well then what is the point of being?"... 

I don't think there is a point in being, I think that the whole thing is one huge freak accident.... It may sound implausible, and impossible, and improbable, but the implausible and improbable happen every day, on a much smaller scale, but they do happen.... so there is no huge meaning of life... we simply exist. 

And as scary as that may be, you don't have to fight and argue about the way we should live our lives... you don't have to invent gods and spirituality's in order to come up with a reason for being... there is none - we are no better than all the animals, we serve no great purpose other than to exist, thrive and multiply.... 

This shouldn't make anyone lose hope though - I believe our "purpose" (the purpose I have given myself, and Will give my  children) is to enjoy out lives while we can - our lives are short, and relatively unimportant in the grand scheme of things (in comparison to the age and importance of the universe that is), and so we should enjoy them; have fun, laugh, dance and sing, even if there is no-one there to see it or listen but you. Fill other peoples lives with as much enjoyment as you can as well; food, drink, hugs and jokes, a shoulder to cry on and a friend to rely on - try and achieve what you want to achieve, and try your best; love easily and freely, and don't spend time with people who hurt you, put you down, use or abuse you, or that don't love you. 

Because ultimately, this is your one life, to spend in whatever way you want to do it, so make the most of it, because there is nothing more, there is not second run, there is not "restart at last checkpoint" and there is no afterlife in which to revel.... It's your one life, and it is precious and important, so cherish it, and use it right.... 

I think people are so afraid of dying, because they believe it is a conscious eternity of nothingness.... it isn't,. you're dead, your brain has stopped working, nothings happening, it all just stops - I'm sorry if that's worse, but the truth is the truth.... 

But death should be the reason you should have all the fun you can, make the most of it -because you have a deadline after all.... 

Don't spend your life trying to elongate it, at the risk of your enjoyment; people spend so much time fretting about eating healthily and exercising, saying "you must not smoke, or do drugs, or drink booze, or anything like that, it's bad for you!" they claim that "you take valuable minutes of the end of your life!", but that's exactly it - they're at the end of your life, when you're lying in your death bed, peeing into a pot and wheezing for air, and they're trying to keep you hanging on for the sake of preserving life - that's not how I want it to end at all! 

I believe it's better to burn out  than to fade away - I want to go with a bang, not wheezing quietly or simply falling asleep, that's no where near good enough! So I'll eat what I like, I'll drink if I want to, I'll smoke or do drugs if I want to (I wouldn't, but that's besides the point!) - anything that will take those nasty end-of-life moments away, because those are the minutes you can have... 

I think enjoyment and achievement are the things we should aim for, and I think that should be enough to justify why we are here..... You shouldn't have to invent reasons to exist in order to make people happy. 

As always, this is just what I think, I'm open to discussion and debate, so please feel free to comment, e-mail or message me... I'll also take a request on a subject to write about if you'd really like.... 

As per usual, just trying to help you get to know me a little better, so thanks for reading :)

Being a disbelieving sceptic.... (Part Two)

I have explained before that I am not usually a believer of the explanations that are made for the "Unexplainable". People seem to have the tendency to come up with strange and unusual idea's to explain the things they are afraid of, or, in their ignorance, have no explanation for.

Today, I'm being a sceptic about magic and the paranormal. Well, not just today, all of the time in fact.

Or at least, I try to be.

A recent conversation about the matter with a friend led onto the subject of paranormal activity, as in the films. Now, I have seen the first 3 films, and they do scare me, I'm almost not ashamed to admit. When I said this, my friend started talking about how freaked out she was that they were based on true stories. I had to interrupt her, and tell that they weren't really, and that statement was just added for the pure affect.

But I continued from there.... Even if they had said that with the honest intent of basing the events on an first hand account of what had happened, it's still not true. Paranormal happenings are events created and fabricated to help explain strange occurrences which people would usually have doubted, or haven't the knowledge to attempt to explain.

Paranormal investigators, in nearly all circumstances, turn out to be fakes, frauds, delusional or downright liars. It is strange to think we live in a society, where this kind of forgery, is openly used and commonly acceptable.

Mediums and the like, for example, who claim to channel "mystic energies" in order to communicate with the deceased, are most commonly visited by grieving members of the public, looking to seem commune or closure with their deceased husbands, parents, children etc. I fail to see how allowing a woman who claims to be "in touch with the other side" to lie to people in order to benefit for themselves.

The same goes for people who claim to have "magic healing hands", and seem to benefit generously from supposedly healing the sick and feeble, whether through god or through magic it doesn't matter - neither has any realistic affect. For those who are miraculously healed, there is a rational, logical explanation for everything (which does not involve divine intervention or mystical energies). Just because you cannot understand or concoct this explanation, does not mean it simply fails to exist.

Magic is also guilty of this failing. All forms of magic, which claim to be able to control people, create money, love, happiness and health, simply prays on the desperate and despairing, in order to try and soothe them, and in some cases, to benefit financially. Magic itself was invented in a time where science was sorely lacking, and people were desperate for a way to explain the good and evil that occurred in their world. Some people claim that magic is simply science which is unexplained, in which case,  you are still merely fabricating a false pretence of something logical, in order to explain something you don't understand. Just admit that you don't understand that. People ask me why I enjoy watching Magicians such as Darren Brown, if I don't believe in magic. The answer is Darren Brown and his affiliates are Illusionists - they do not claim to do magic, and In a lot of cases, they explain how they did what they did. Those who don't, you can still understand that they did it in a normal, realistic fashion.

Books on magic, available for the public to buy -those that contain spells for them to use - are a very public homage to fraud. These books nearly always insist that the spell will not simply be enough - for instance, you cannot cast a spell that will make you thin, and simply sit on your arse eating chocolate all day, you must eat well and do some exercise. You must have willpower, and sometimes "the timing of your spell may not be right, in which case you should try again."

Do you know why they say this? BECAUSE THEY DON'T WORK AT ALL! IT'S ALL LIES!

They are giving you the spell as incentive - because you probably wont do something on your own, if you believe in spells, but if a spell tells you that you have to do something for it to work, then you would probably walk around with shards of "lucky glass" in your shoe if you thought it would help!

Spells do nothing special whatsoever, they simply attempt to harness and kick start your own personal willpower.

So my friend asks me why I wear crucifixes, or pentagrams, or collect stones, or feathers or crystals.

"Because they are pretty - it's a stylistic choice... I simply like how they look. Precious stones and gems are very pretty, and decorative, that's why I have them."

 The reason I buy stones that claim to have special qualities or powers is because of the sentiment. I don't believe they are really going to work - I don't think they will actually heal you or make you happier, but it's the thought behind it that  I want. It's just a physical way of me representing my wishes and hopes for someone. If someone believes that what are essentially glammed up rocks have these magic powers, then good for them, I hope it helps. But I don't believe it myself.

So my friend asks me why I watch films about fantasy and paranormal happenings, or horror films like paranormal activity, or even the show Supernatural, and still get affected. 

It's because those shows tap into the part of your psyche that makes you doubt what you believe - I'm fully aware they aren't real, and that everything is still fiction, but it taps into the part of me that doubts my own self-assurance. In fact, my favourite horror films, are ones that I know, that if someone was crazy and messed up enough, could actually happen, whereas that's not the case for paranormal activity. But it still creeps me out, because it's a well made film, with good builds of suspense.

And even so, just because I don't believe in the supernatural, does not mean I am not allowed to for the sake of pretence and entertainment. Films, books and TV shows are a form of escapism and fantasy, to distract us from the harsh reality of everyday life. It still doesn't mean I believe in them when the credits roll.

Again, believe in whatever makes you happy, this is by no means a campaign to change people's view of the world, it's just a vent for my opinion, to help you get to know me, a little better. 

Being a non-believing sceptic (Part One of Three)

Okay, I'll be honest, I'm usually a sceptic. I don't believe things easily - I toss aside the fantastical, the mythical, the conspiracies and the tales, and I strip things down to pure logic and science.

Or at least I try not to.

Horror films never (used to) phase me, nor did religious preaching, or paranormal investigations. I like to think that I can steadily hold the bombardment of rubbish and ridiculous notions at bay.

I do not succumb to faiths or teachings, or to threatenings of demonic absorption, or eternal damnation.

Or at least I try not to.

And yet, of course, I know there are many things we cant explain in our lives. There are many questions that we really have no answers to. But I believe that, behind every question that looms over mankind, there is an answer out there somewhere - But I don't believe that those answers will be found by lots of hairy old men sitting around on their ass and thinking, constantly creating new rules and fables in order to drive people to believe what they want them to believe.

Because that's what religion is all about. It's a bunch of elderly men, seeking power, reeling out lie after lie, in order to answer the questions that they're too scare to admit they don't have answers for.

It is fables, stories and rulings, created in order to attempt to control a populace, which in essence, they are aware they could never really control.

It's about leading that same populace, and themselves, to believe there is some fantastical eternity of life and joy after you die, in order to mollify their extensive fears of death and destruction in the world, and to justify and coincidental suffering that occurs during their life.

This shouldn't be the case. The acknowledgement that death exists and surrounds us every day, should be what drives us to attempt to make our lives better and worth living, for our own personal sakes. The fact of the matter is, your lifespan, and your physical presence, pales into significance at the age and sheer size of the whole universe. Your life is short, and (as hard as it is to hear) seemingly insignificant. There are people, of course, who contribute greatly to our world, and then there are people who don't - but you should strive to be one of the contributors. Every little action brings something. A hug where someone needs it, or that idea or dream you had, you should go for it, because, at the end of the day, you really have very little to lose, when you think about where you are in time and space.

The acknowledgement of death should be what makes you grab life by the balls and try to squeeze as much fun and love out of it as you can.

It shouldn't be some ridiculous story of a divine being, whom guides you through your life, coddling you and reassuring you all the way. What you should understand is that life is shit! Shitty stuff happens to the best of us - honestly - you are going to suffer, at some time, one way or another, and no story, or little hymnal or righteous act will stop that. It may help ease your ravaged conscience, and help convince you that all will be forgiven one way or another - but there is no-one up there to forgive, besides those you have hurt. If you fuck up, or something goes wrong, there's no fate, or divine intervention that's caused it - It just happened.

But that should be the reason you try hard at what you do, and if something goes wrong , believe that it'll all work out in the end, and that you'll come out the other side much stronger - not because of some retributional force like Karma, but because you made it happen yourself, and that that the people around you whom love you, helped you get where you needed to be.

Because you can never underestimate the power of love.

Believe in yourself, and believe that you can make things happen - don't let the opinions of others cloud and cling to you, because they will drag you down and they will never truly understand who you are. Because if you can believe in that, and you work your hardest, that's all you can do at the end of the day - all anyone can ever really ask of you. People who believe that your best isn't good enough, aren't worth your time.

Don't blame your failings on some "all-powerful-being", and don't blame yourself too much by the same token - because in the end, when you've tried your best, and you've failed still, you should rest easy, knowing that was all you can do.

But if you do need some support - don't turn to a God, because they just aren't there - self delusion is a wonderful thing, but too much will drive you insane. Turn to someone real, solid and sensible (or sometimes, they don't even need to be sensible). In times of hardship, when you're losing your way, or struggling to carry on, turn to a real person, who will comfort you with love.

We all, despite what we may believe, have someone who loves us - and the people who love you, want to help you where they can. Of course, some of these people will need your support from time to time, and sometimes they will hurt you. But you need to accept that everyone is going to hurt you in your life, one way or another, you just have to hunt down the people worth suffering for, because they are who you need.

Sometimes it's hard, because these people are hidden, in fake intentions and persona's, and you don't know how to develop the correct relationship with this person. But it's then you need to realise that love is not divisible and split into categories.

Love is a constant, that surrounds us everyday - it is simply the intensity to which love is felt that varies. People, as so often happens, find it hard to judge the varying intensities of feeling, and so, confuse them self, thinking they love someone when in fact they feel nothing more than lust, or the strong bond of friendship. People like this will realise sooner or later how they actually feel, and they will begin to understand, and be able to give you the love they need. You can either get over it or move on, or put it down to experience and leave them behind - the decision is of course, yours.

Love is so much more important than anything else, and ironically, it is religion that tends to preach it's benefits most of all - because everything in the universe that has been created by man, has been based on a fundamental idea or belief. These ideas get morphed and abused, made into something they aren't and used as a weapon against our world.

Of course, I'm not saying there aren't people who don't believe the religious concepts faithfully, and I don't mind that.... I try very hard not to judge, and I myself once believed the good lord would rescue my soul, but I'm saying what I believe, in the hope of enlightening people, or perhaps just making them think - I don't say anything with a view to forcing people to believe something.

Each to their own. 

Daddy's Little Girl....

In the beginning, when I first decided to start a blog, I spent a long time looking for a subject. I couldn’t think of something I could give, that was unique to me. But then I thought of something – Me! I could give you and insight to me, because as silly as it may seem, nobody really knows me all that well. Not even my best friend. So, that’s what I endeavour to do – to give anyone who decides they want it, a little insight into the workings of my mind.



The reason I say this, is because today’s blog has a rather large and slightly unpleasant dollop of just that – Inside information. I was thinking about a simple phrase a fellow blogger of mine used the other day.



All he said was 10 years ago... I thought that was fairly unremarkable, but then, when I really think about it I was a little 6 year old. 6 years old! It would be a further 6 years before I would even move to Dorset. It would have been around the time I went to live with my dad. And then I mentioned this to a good friend of mine, the one whom I mentioned in my last blog, and she said I must have loved that period of my life, being so young and utterly care free, and It saddened me to point out this wasn’t true.



But you were daddy’s little girl; it should have been lovely? Well yes, it should have, and there were times where it was, but not all of them.



To understand this, you have to know that my mother and father broke up when I was five. For a short while I lived with my mum, but then, because my dad was all alone, I decided that I wanted to live with him. So after a very, very big tantrum, my mum gave in, and let me be.



Now, when I was growing up with my family, and had a brother and a sister, I was aware that they were not my full brother and sister. I was not aware of my fathers past, or of what happened to my family when I wasn't looking. To this day they wont explain fully, but I can make an educated guess.



My father was from a.... troubled background, from what I can gather. His father was abusive and my father was a fan of excess in... Many things.



And see, because I was his only daughter (for all I knew) – the only one who he could really say was of his own; he treated me very well, or as well as I could hope for. I never really saw or understood what happened to everyone else. Or perhaps, I did, but I simply blocked it out from plain denial.



But so, I had no real Idea what my dad was like. He was lovely and caring to me, so I simply thought the people around me were overreacting and slandering him, and I protested this, because I loved him of course, he was my daddy after all.



So around about the time I turned six, I moved in with my dad, and I received quite a culture shock. He wasn’t who I thought he was. He had a dark past, a complicated one, full of difficulty and in some cases, heartbreak. He relied on me heavily, which is not something that should be forced on a child. He made me feel guilty and he suppressed my view of who I should be, and he did many other things that I don’t care to mention.



And so, when I said this to my friend, she went just said that she could see why I left. I was affronted; I told her I didn’t chose to leave, not really, just that someone came and got me and moved me elsewhere.



So she asked me if I would have stayed, and I tell her of course I would have then, because he needed me. But then, I wouldn’t on reflection, with the benefit of hindsight, because I can see who I would have become. And I don't like that person.



I wasn’t allowed to interact with boys around my father, so perhaps I’d be a little better off. But I would have been suppressed; he wouldn’t have allowed me to grow up or change who I am – No make up, No boys, No different music. I wouldn’t have been able to mature, because the more I did, the harder he would have made it.



And as much as I wish I could have stayed, I realise sometimes, with stunning clarity, just how much better off I am here. I have done better than I ever would have if I stayed there. I am happier than I would have been, I have met people who have changed my life, and without whom, I couldn’t imagine being.



I’m not saying I don’t miss the people I left behind, I do, more than they might know, but sometimes, to move on and be who you need to be, you need to let go of something else.



These days, I feel safer and more comfortable about the idea of going home. I feel like I could handle it now, where as I couldn’t before.



I cant thank the people I’ve met enough, for everything they’ve done for me, everything they’ve taught me and coached me through.



To my friend Martha, who was the best teenage health advice guru anyone ever had, and a great fan girl relief at times.



To Christopher, My best friend and comrade in arms, who has terrified me with his sheer scale since I was a child, and continues to do so today. My adopted brother, who has helped me through so much I wouldn’t even know where to begin.



To Jake, my brother, who although irritates me more than I can say, I still love him, and he’s still there when I really truly need him, and I like to think I reciprocate.



To Ziggi, my beautiful sister, who I understand has been through a lot, and possibly some of it is my fault. I’m here, if you do need someone, I swear.



To Jennifer Twist, because you’ve always been there to stick my broken confidence back together, and put a smile on my face.



To Mrs Twist, who has been a great mother figure, and taken me under her wing, making me feel truly accepted somewhere.



To Abbey, for being there as a friend, through all my silly phases and shortcomings, and still supporting me at the end. Thank you for teaming up with me, and I promise you, L will come out of hiding some day!



To Sarah, for being a quiet counterpart, but still someone who enriched me and made my time at school bearable.



To Dominic, for still being friends with me, even in the circumstances in which we met, and for being such a gracious, supportive and long standing friend.... (10 years, 6 months, 13 days and ..... god knows okay!).



To Luke Howie, for dragging me into anime, and for enlightening and comforting me in ways I never thought possible. I value your continued friendship more than I show, and more than I think you know.



To Zara McQueen, for being such a creative, spiritual, sensible, emotional and brilliant guidance along my road through life. I’m sorry I wasted so much of your time with silly trivial dramas.



To Tamara Essex, for having faith in my maturity, even when it didn’t shine that brightly, and for giving me the compliments and confidence boosts when they were needed. All  the little pushes have helped me come a long, long way.



To Tom Crockford, for coming out of absolutely nowhere and saving me from myself.  Thank you for sticking by me, through every silly little thing, and you know I’d do anything for you, even if saving you sends me to heaven...



To Budgie, Ben, Matt and all the rest of the 2FM gang – thanks for doing what you do, and giving young, incredibly bored people somewhere to go and something to enjoy. We all know how difficult it is to have nightlife in these parts.



To Budgie specifically, for keeping me calm and serving me many, many bowls of onion rings – and eating them with great comic dexterity! – And to Emma as well, for keeping him safe, and not so sane, keep up the good work! :)



To Joshua, for also coming out of nowhere and turning everything back to front – thank you for inspiring me to blog, and for still being my friend, despite how crazy I may seem.



Thank you to Nikki, my godmother, for keeping me safe and sane, for taking care of my mother and stepfather when they needed it, as well as the rest of the family. Thank you for loving and accepting me, despite what I’m responsible for and associated with. Thank you for all the hugs, and the musical inspiration.... but I will never forgive you for the sofa.



Thanks to David, my amazing stepfather, who puts up with so much rubbish, nonsense, bull-crap and stupidity (from all of us!) that I don’t get how he’s still standing. Thank you for being my friend, and for taking care of my mum and my family (a lot of the time at your own cost). Thank you for all the advice I ignored, and the little that I did listen to. Thank you for teaching me so much, and coaching me through maths when it made me cry. Thank you for not being too harsh when I did bad things, but for also teaching me the lessons I needed to learn..... Like all boys are knob heads!



To my ever patient mother, who copes with all my tantrums, tall tales, food thievery, messiness, tears, cuts and bruises, burns and scars – both mental and physical – Thank you for teaching me so much, and bringing me to where I am today. Thank you for feeding me, clothing me, entertaining me and sheltering me, even when times were hard. Thank you for lifting me up when I fell, and for pointing out how stupid I was being. Thank you for loving me, even when it’s hard to show it. Thank you for guiding me, even when I wasn’t paying attention. I love you so much, and I will always, always be here if you need me at all, a shoulder to cry on and a warm hug waiting, because after all you’ve done for me, and been through for me, it’s the least you deserve back.



So really, I was daddy’s little girl, and I think that I still am deep inside – there are things that haven’t changed about me at all, and I can still see traces of him when I look in the mirror. It’s fair to say I’ve got his blood in my veins, but I hope it’s the good bits; the bits that no-one saw but me, the bits that he hid away and was ashamed of, and the bits that no-one believed was there. Because I still like to think that deep down, somewhere within all the messed-upness that we both suffer from, and that most people suffer from, we’re still fundamentally good people, even if it’s only a smudge. It would still make all the struggle worthwhile to me.



I think that people seem a little shocked when I tell them I love my daddy – I tell them that I’m shocked they think I wouldn’t. Whatever he’s done and said, to me or to anyone else, I can see right through that, because I saw the loving, caring, vulnerable and carefree bits underneath.



Because, flawed may be the object of your affections, but love them you will, for the rest of your days.



There’s nothing wrong with being daddy’s little girl – I love both of mine unconditionally, and equally. I couldn’t Imagine who or what I would be without either of them.

 
So yeah – thanks, to everyone, for everything.

Another Year....

So here we are in the fresh new untrodden midst's of 2014. People all around the world have been talking about how bad 2013 was for them - and I'm afraid to say, I am going to be one of those people.

See, usually I am pretty optimistic and positive in everything I do. I try to keep on top of negative thoughts with the Idea that it'll all work out where it needs to (I can often be heard saying "It'll be fine!"). But last year, I sometimes felt that things were getting the better of me, and that maybe my catchphrase wouldn't hold me up this time. 

Those of you who read my blog regularly will know about my multitude of failed romantic attempts (or just those of you who know me well). One of these in particular really got to me this year. I had so hoped that I could finally make this relationship last, but in all fairness, I was deluding myself in the hope of finally ending my difficulties in the romance department. But, I am moving on from that, in the hope that "It'll be fine". 

This year was difficult in terms of stress levels as well; with exams, results, apprenticeships (two!) and a whole load of social situations, I felt a little drained in the end. Leaving school, despite my relief and excitement, was a lot harder than I had factored in for. You spend the whole beginning of your life in a (mostly) safe and protected environment, where you see your friends nearly every day, and don't actually have to do an awful lot. I miss my school friends dearly, as well as my teachers and classmates (I have no idea why about the latter - a large proportion of them were incredibly cruel). And in all reality, I was wholly unprepared for the world I was going into. It's quite different, but then, no different at all. 

Bowling for Soup said "High school never ends." They were bang on. 

So at the end of all the tears and goodbye hugs, when the dust clears, you're stood in a world of people who you think know what they're doing, and you haven't a clue. It's scary, very scary, and there were times I was trying to give up, to find easy ways out - but then I really enjoy doing what I do, and I'm lucky to work with friends, in such an amazing environment. The idea of that, brings me back from the brink of giving up. 

And this year was all about shifting styles. I spent a lot of time trying to discover what I like and where I fit in. I spent a lot of time trying to figure out the real me, and then trying to cover her up, and put the cap back on that soul-searching fountain. I went through several different hair colours and styles (some of them monstrous and highly regretted!). I tried to devote myself to one genre of music or one main TV show, and found out that I'm just not media-monogamous. It's quite depressing to venture down all these routes, and then find that you don't really fit anywhere. That you're a strange combination of fandoms and social stereotypes, and that, in reality, you're not truly accepted anywhere.

And so, it is because of this I have decided to make a few new years resolutions. Because that's what it's for - for bettering yourself and improving lifestyle, as well as moving on from the difficulties of the past year. So that's what I'm going to try and do... 

1) Cut down on chocolate; I know, it sounds insane and ridiculous, but honestly, its playing havoc with my skin and it's not good. And it's not like I'm going to eliminate It altogether (I don't have that kind of willpower!). 

2) Be myself more often; It's easy to say, of course, but not so easy to do. In fact, being myself involves some deception; Like dying my hair is part of who I am, but I have resolved not to cut it at all (besides trimming to aid healthy growth.) But I shall resume my usual/natural ginger self. I have decided that's what I'm most happy with, many of you will be pleased to hear. Lying less is also a part of this list; I'm going to stop trying to pretend to be someone I'm not, in an attempt to fit in. Although this might be slightly difficult - I spent so long pretending to be someone else, I almost completely forgot who I was. 

3) Eat more salad and exercise regularly;.............................. YEAH RIGHT! BAZINGA PUNKS! :) 

4) Stick at it for once; With regards to my love life, I am determined to not give up this time round. Not in a creepy, desperate way of course (moi? creepy and desperate? Never!), but there's been so many times where I have given up hope, because of low self-esteem or difficulties. But I don't want trivial issues to try and drag me down anymore; I want to try and be happy for once. 

5) Be more decisive; Because I am continually told off for not making decisions - whether it be what I want to eat, What film I want to watch or what job I want to do.... So, I must try to stop say "I dunno!".

So, I am aiming to make this year, the year of the real me - I hope it works, otherwise, it's going to be another unlucky year. 

I wish you all a happy, hairy, fun and bubbly 2014! 

Ciao!