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!

A letter to my future daughter....

My daring little girl (for that is what you will always be). There are some home truths that I felt it best to tell you. Some little bits of advice, that I wanted to share with you.

Fandoms are the best places in the world to get caught in. Never worry that you read too much, or seem too obsessed. It's okay to be a fan girl, and there will be so many of your fellow kind out there, to support you when things go wrong, or even sometimes, oh so right in your fandom. You are all of one, they will become a part of your family. It's okay to immerse yourself in fiction; fill your head with as many pages, words, stories and worlds as possible - for the imagination is one of the greatest human tools.

Never let anyone ruin your imagination, or try to ground you, or bind you with their "realities". There is no limit to what you can achieve if you can imagine it, go for it. Your imagination, and what you can do with it, is the best escape from the harsh reality and difficulties of the world around you. The world is your oyster, and never let anyone stop you. You can be anything you want, if you try hard enough. Don't dream it, be it!

However, there will be times when they set you back, and hold you from your goal, but your family will be here to help you up again, dust you off and push you in the right direction. Never underestimate the power and importance of your family. You'll always want your independence, and that's okay (no matter what I say), but you can always come home; there will always be a shoulder to cry on and a cup of tea waiting for you. Mum and Dad are always here for you, and it's okay to come running home. Don't let anyone convince you otherwise.

Always, always (!) wear sun cream. I never believed them when I was young either - but really, sunburn hurts, and can play havoc with your skin. You could be lucky, but you might not, and then your health will pay for it later in life. You don't want to ruin that beautiful skin, and look old before your time. Believe me.

Maths is difficult - really difficult. If it seems easy, you're most likely doing it wrong. Always go to Daddy for help with maths problems, for I truly have no idea what the hell is going on - and I'll always have a calculator for you somewhere.

Red lipstick is tricky, stubborn, and rarely worth the effort. All your clothes, possessions, friends and family will somehow end up with stains all over them, and they will not be impressed at all.

You never need as much make-up as you think you do. You are so naturally beautiful, don't spoil it with piles of slap. I didn't listen to well meaning friends and family who said the same when I was younger, and looked very stupid for a long time, until I sorted my look out. Men/women (whatever you like - you know I don't mind at all), do not like tonnes of fake tan or heavy eye make-up. You want them to be able to recognise you for the natural beauty you are when all that synthetic stuff is gone. Always use make-up to highlight the real you, rather than mask her completely.

Some girls around you will try and dedicate their lives to making you feel rubbish about yourself. Don't give them the time of day, don't let them get to you, and don't react (unless you have something clever and witty up your sleeve). And please make sure you point these girls out to mummy and daddy, so we can put them in their places - the same goes for those stupid boys! I'll teach them a thing or two if they ever make you cry.

It is okay to cry. It is not a sign of weakness, nor of giving up. Sometimes what you really need is a good cry. Sometimes you'll just feel like going home, crawling up in a ball and crying your guts out. That's okay, because sometimes, you'll feel so much better for it. It's a huge relief. And I'm always here for you to lean on if you need me. I might need you sometimes too. You shouldn't cry for those who don't deserve it though. Those who don't deserve your sorrow and hurt - people who you just don't give another thought to, just walk away. Sometimes, sitting there and crying over them, isn't going to make it any better, and that's when you shouldn't bother.

Worrying about things is utterly pointless. No one ever solved a problem by worrying about it. It's better to take action for something, to try your hardest at it, because in the end, that's all you can do - your utmost best, and no one can ask for more from you. The little silly things you do - the bad joke you made in front of that boy/girl you liked, the wrong conversation you bought up, the wrong dress or shade of eyeshadow you wore at that party - there's no point in worrying about that either, so you may as well just let them go, put them down to experience and forget all about it. No amount of worrying about it is going to change it sweetie.

Algebra sucks, and is utterly pointless most the time, but I'm afraid you'll just have to brave it. At times, there may be things Mum and Dad can do about P.E, but you're stuck with algebra. Sorry.

Ice-cream is amazing. For all situations; celebratory and problematic. End of story.

Cheese-cake is also good.

Booze, however, is not - it's also not that cool. It'll make you do stupid things, feel and smell awful and can really mess your insides up. It's okay in moderation; and also when I know where you are, who you are with and what you're doing. You must be the right age, or there will be trouble. Trust me.

Take good care of your teeth, and your eyes. They are valuable assets, and you only really get one proper set. You can enjoy your favourite treats much longer, if you take care of your teeth. Missing teeth is not a very attractive trait.

Boys/girls will come and go; family, and most friends, will remain. Boys/girls (delete as applicable if you wish), will sometimes try and hurt you on purpose; they will lie, deceive, manipulate, physically and psychologically abuse you to try and get what they want. You do not have to stay with these people. You can do so, so much better - believe me - you do not have to waste a second with them. Just leave, and Daddy and I will make them stay away.

There will be many heartbreaks and faulty relationships before you find someone you really, truly love. It will take a long time, and you have to try and be patient, please. (I definitely didn't listen to that). There will be many times that you'll think you're in love, and you'll be insistent to me that you couldn't see yourself with anyone else (and it'll wind me up no end). But I will keep calm for you, and ride through all your difficulties with you, because I know what it's like to be there. I was young once. When you find the one for you, you will definitely know. Believe me.

White shorts are usually a terrible Idea. As are white shoes.... and most white clothing in fact.

Never be afraid to ask me for something. There will be times where I cant get you something right away, or when something you want really isn't practical - but I will always try to find a way to help you.

Be kind, caring and loving, and you will glow, and people will flock around you because of it. People will be drawn to you if you radiate happiness. Don't let them take advantage of it though - you must know when to draw a line in your generosity and caring, and tell people to leave. Don't let them leach of you and steal your energy - that's when to make distance.

Never measure your success in money; measure it in what you love most, whatever that may be, even if people don't understand.

Your brain and your heart will always disagree, and no-one really knows whats going on in their gut - you will usually end up following one of the latter, and the brain will always be there to say "I informed you thusly!".

For some people, whatever you do will never be enough. Don't give a toss about them. I will be proud of you whatever you do, even if I don't understand or approve - and so long as you are happy, then that's all that matters.

Be creative in whatever way you can. Everyone has a spark of creativity in them, they just have to find it. It took me a very long time to find mine, and I'm still searching. Just look at your dad though - he breathes creativity. Be like that.

Music is an amazing thing; a truly inspiring, brilliant, fantastic, outstanding, magical thing. It is a fabulous combination of imagination and creativity. There is music for every emotion, and a song for every situation. Old music is amazing, despite what you may think. Listening to good music can make you forget all your worries, even if only for a short while.

Dancing is brilliant; never be afraid to dance. No mater how silly you think you look, there is usually someone who looks sillier than you (it will usually be me). And even if you do look silly, those who mind, you need not care about, and those you care about, shouldn't mind.

Sneaking out is not cool. You could get hurt or in trouble, and we wouldn't know where you are, and that would terrify your Dad and I. Please always ask, because although there will be times where we might still be worried, we will find a way, that means you can have fun and be safe. I'll usually be okay with you going out, believe me, so long as I'm fully aware of whats happening. Honestly, just try me!

There will be times where you and I argue with each other, of course there will. There will be times where I'll be stressed, tired, worried or upset, and I might need your support. But please understand, that if ever a day goes by, where I don't tell you I love you, you must know that I always will. No matter what.

Oh, and please don't chop off, dye or in any other way, ruin that lovely hair - take it from my personal experience on that.

And before you get all stubborn and smart-arse on me and say "what do you know, you're a grown up, you're old! Of course you don't want me to have fun!".... I wrote this when I was 16, I know what I'm talking about (some of the times). Okay?

P.S. Guys are knob heads. Full stop.

Cause I don’t Bite my lip or bat my eyes....

When you walk by, you walk by.

Following a humorous section of “disruptive” conversation with a fellow blogger of mine, I’ve been thinking about the ways in which males and females attempt to woo one another. It appears there are many weird and wonderful ways that singletons attempt to make people believe that they want to spend the rest of their lives (or at least the rest of the night) with themselves, cavorting in whatever way they seem fit.

This blogger friend of mine has a very individualised way of attempting to woo a lady (or, in more effective ways, a gentleman). It works on the law of infinite probability, meaning that if you continue to use it indefinitely, it is bound to work one day. I suppose this is true for any given technique within context, and I love the thinking behind. It his incredibly comic stunt/pulling technique he would use (if he were brave enough I feel, or possibly excessively inebriated). I won’t tell you what it is, for fear of embarrassing the poor soul, but you’d probably love it if I did, or it would at least raise a humorous chuckle.  

Anyway, this conversation floated back to me later that evening, and raised a smile, and then got me thinking.

I am one of the ilk that are very fond of one liners and cheesy pick up lines used by willing men in pubs and bars across the nation. However, I feel there aren’t many of my kind left anymore; Most of the girls I know say that they would run a mile from any man who dared use this “old school” technique. My sister simply stated that she would ask the gentleman to buy her and her friend a drink, and walk away, which I thought was a hideous concept, one that I would never employ.

See, I adore one-liners, cheesy chat up lines, and downright insane pulling techniques (like my blogging friends). If someone had the courage to use those sorts of things, I’d give them the time of day the rightfully deserve. I have a rule of thumb when it comes to this sort of exercise; If a man can make me laugh (or indeed will dance with me if the situation allows) he’s usually got a good headway. I will stay and talk to him, and he’s definitely got a look in. I love it! I love someone having that courage, and actually doing it.

But there in lies the issue; the type of gentlemen I like (Nerdy boys who love music and also happen to be brave enough to approach me with cheesy one liners) don’t appear to exist, or if they do at all, they are in no way shape or form interested in me at all, which is depressing to say the least. I do so wish that men had the balls (ironically) to do that sort of thing.

I am, however, being a tad hypocritical. I do not possess or put to use, any predominant way of chatting up boys, or seducing them in any such way. It’s incredibly difficult, being me, to stand around in a room full of people, including young men and women, and attempt to find someone to take interest in. The main reason for this, is that compared to some of the other females in the room usually, whom spend much of their time plucking and pruning, straightening and getting their breasts out, with which I cannot really compete. But also, a large proportion of this competition, have some form of flirting ability. I have none; that sort of ability comes with measurable outward confidence (or at least the fake version of it!), and also good looks usually helps. See, the issue is that I’m not one to bite my lip or bat my eyelashes when I see a guy I like. I just sort of, use wishful thinking, to try and will him to notice me. This is probably why I’m so in awe of men who can use they’re humour and fun nature, to try and grab the attention and affections of someone. It sort of amazes me really.

So, just a little hint to all the men out there; even if you’re a bit shy, and a little bit worried about trying to get a girls attention, just go for, use a cheesy one, a really bad one, one that’ll make her laugh – because in the end, she’s a complete stranger usually, so what have you got to loose really? You never have to see her again if you don’t want to, and if she doesn’t find it funny, or uses your bravery to score a drink, she’s not worth it.

I’ll leave you with my favourite chat up line, one that a friend and I found in a book full of them, and we had great fun with. We had to edit it to make sense to me.

“Do you have any Cornish in you? Would you like some?”

Or, even better,

“If I said you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?”

Or apparently, my new personal favourite, a llama impression is always good :)

Thanks for reading 

You know I've got an awful lot of big dreams....

Trouble with dreams is you never know, 

When to hold on and when to let go, 

Trouble with dreams is you can't pretend, 

Something with no beginning, has an end....

Theres a question a friend of mine keeps asking me. It's a joke, I know it is, and I take it in that context every time. I say the same thing a lot myself.  

What is wrong with you?  

It's such a simple question really. Not said with any malicious intent. And yet I've been thinking about it a lot recently. And then I thought about something else. I thought about the two new recurring dreams I've been having. 

They came out of nowhere; I'd never had them before, and the night before I had them, I was feeling quite happy, rather positive about it all, and then they bought me right back down again. 

The first one has me a little confused; I can't quite suss the meaning of it... 

I am walking up Shaftesbury high street, and I'm arguing with someone. In the weird back story type thing you know in dreams, I know that he's my partner, and that's all. I don't have a name, I don't have any other info. I don't have a face even. I don't remember a face from the dream. I only know he's with me. He's so angry, and I don't even know what about. I'm trying my best to calm him down. My arms are full of paperwork, and I'm carrying a cup of coffee in my free hand, and occasionally spilling some on my hand. I can actually feel the burning of the coffee, and my rising panic, which makes it feel all so real. 

After a minute of me trying to calm him down, he turns and grabs the tops of my arms. He shakes me viciously, and the coffee spills all over my chest, scalding me. Now I can really feel the burn, the great pain, and it all feels so real, which is what has me so frightened. I cry out in pain and panic, and none of the public turn and try to help me. They don't even look at us. The stream of people part around us like a rock in a river, and still he keeps yelling. 

He notices I'm not listening, and that flames the anger. He pulls back his fist. It all happens so slowly, and yet so fast, all in one. He strikes me hard across the side of my face, and I fall, and smash my head to the side of me. He stands there and stares at me, but he shows absolutely no remorse whatsoever.

I realise then, I am looking down at myself and him like a spectator. I am outside of my own body, but I still feel the pain; of the burn, and of the punch. Still no one turns, no one tries to help. They just leave me there. 

I watch for a long time. I watch my body, crumpled ingloriously on the pavement; I watch it rot away, and leave the bones behind.... 

And then I wake up, there are tears over my face, and I can still feel a dull burning sensation. It's disconcerting, to say the least, and I just cant make sense of it whatsoever. 


The other dream is much more frightening. It happens several times a night, and lasts on average between one and two hours. It's the exact same every time. I'll fall asleep, have the dream, and wake up crying, again, only to calm down, fall asleep, and repeat the pattern. 

I am standing on a hill, in gale force wind and thrashing rain. I am cold, very cold, and it's nigh time; pitch black all around, with no stars, and only the occasional lightening strike to see by. Again, through some kind of back story, I am aware that I'm waiting for someone, and I know who they are, but can't bring a name or face to mind. It's all of this knowledge and sensation, that again makes the dream feel so real.

And oh so suddenly, He's there (the person that I'm waiting for.) Theres a pull, a very strong pull, and I've no idea why. I feel his presence before I see him, and then, in a silent flash of lightening (presumably somehow drowned out by the rain), he's there in front of me. I try to say something, but no sound emerges. Another flash; He shakes his head wordlessly. And then he grabs my hand, and begins to pull me with him. 

He starts of walking, but soon speeds up to a run. He drags me all the way, pulling so hard my arm aches. All the time the wind and rain lash out against my face and hair. He picks up pace, faster. I cant keep up, I begin to trip up. I try to call out for him to slow down, but he doesn't hear, because I make no sound at all.  

I fall more often, and he just drags me on my front or knees, through mud and puddles, thistle and weeds. I can't see where we are going, and I don't know where we are anyway. I keep trying to plead and beg, to kick and scream, but still no sound comes forth.

Soon things begin to snag at my heels and calves. The sting and scratch, and I cant place what they are. They increase ferocity, scratching my hips and stomach, and creeping up between my shoulders. He doesn't slow, he simply drags me through them, which makes them cut into my flesh, and coat the new wounds in mud and puddle water. 

They soon begin to slow me down though, reaching up around my neck, and my silent pleas continue to silently spew out, but this time, he turns and stops. 

Elation takes over; pure joy, love and adoration is the place of terror. 

But he just lets go. His face un-illuminated by the persistent lightening. He rips my hand from his and drops me. The things take advantage, holding my down; they cover each limb, and pin me down, crossing over my vision, but not enough to make their forms clear to me. They dig in and drag me down into the earth, and all the time, he stares down at me, silently shaking with laughter, and staring straight into my eyes. 

It's the greatest pain, an empty void pushing at the edges of my chest, making it ache.

I stop struggling. I know there is no point anymore. And everything in my vision, including his mocking figure, is turned to black. There is some relief in that. And that's when I wake up again, tears streaming once more. 

And so, you can see why I find it difficult to sleep at night. When I nap during the day, they don't come to me, only shadows of fears I have drift across my vision then. But at night, alone in the dark, that's when they manifest, revealing everything I hate in my mind, with no way of stopping them.... 

 A bit dark, I know, and for that I apologise. But if anyone has any suggestions or helpful comments, please feel free to let me know. 

Thanks for taking the time to read - sorry it's a little fucked up :/