3:04.

It was the night when the sky was dappled blue with clouds. I remember it had a pale pink glow towards the east like the clouds were ripped pieces of trace paper in front of a drying watercolour. And it was nights like these where I wished I owned a compass. So that in all the uncertainty, and for when you cannot see the moon or the stars, you will always know one thing for sure. Which way is north. And this also the night when I realised that it’s not as easy to crawl into your parents bed as it used to be. I’d been crying, making the duvet salty with every gasp for air that came rushing from my throat. And this was a rare night because I don’t cry much. The sadness is buried so deep into my bones that it cannot flow with the tears any more so I have no choice but to surrender to the empty void of bleeding lips and forked tongues. I could see the blade that was glinting in the dying light but, although every voice in my head was screaming for blood, I did not reach for it. And then my heartbeat was so loud in my ears that it overcame the whispers of my ghosts and all that was left was the stinging in my bloodshot eyes and the rhythmic beat of my heart against the cages of my ribs. So it was the night I counted to four with each quivering breath and tiptoed out of bed into my parents’ bedroom. I guess I should have known that it would not be like it was when I was little. The last time I’d done this was when I was six and had had a nightmare and was too scared to sleep again. I suppose the only difference, 10 years later, is that the nightmare is this life and that I am now more scared of the monsters in my head than the ones under my bed. This was the night that I stepped over my fathers’ cold feet until I was crouched in a space between him and our dog and, after swinging my lefts over the bedpost into the cool air, sat for a while, the dog sleepily nuzzling my hand with his warm nose. And that was the night when I realised that I could no longer fall asleep safe in the arms of my father and instead I would simply have to return to my own cell of white walls and shredded memories. And so I did and as I did so, I let the water drag my head into the current, leaving my consciousness with the waves.

Coffins behind the velvet.

{POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING}

I think about dying quite a lot. Not necessarily the suicide kind of dying, though that creeps in too sometimes, but it’s never serious… Just thoughts about pain and how much easier one way would be than another. But the kind of dying that has no real meaning; no ending note. No crying, or screaming for the pain to stop. Simply slipping quietly into a peaceful state of non-existance and tranquility. And it seems so appealing. Dressed in white, or maybe black, alone to sleep the hurt away.
And that is how we see it.
But I think that maybe the peace is a facade and that we never really get peace, do we, because of everyone left behind. And death is never easy. There are never the slow, lapping waves of calm washing over you, and instead a dark tidal wave of the regrets of the dead. No memories here. Just our stale hearts as they rest in the cages of our ribs, slowly pumping your remaining sadness round your veins before it finally gives in to the velvet curtain of darkness and it drops to shield your coffin from the tears on the pews, rotted by words of our choking throats.
If peace is the ultimate desire, then surely the nails of the coffin is no place to rest our sorry souls.

She still exists?

This was supposed to be published last night, but I ended up finishing it at 1am and my wifi was non-existent. Damn.

Yeeees, I do.

AND SUMMER IS NEARLY UPON US.

I have been meaning to write at least something but I have simply come to the conclusion that my creative instinct has just evaporated or gone for a long holiday to Mexico.

Hmm.

So, how about a mid-year review kind of thing? oh this will be depressing

So, at the start of this year, I did that… *whispers* New Year Plan and as far as you and I are concerned, it never… happened. Okay?

Okay.

See, thing is, nothing has been done about that.

And this is why I don’t make resolutions.

…So… in a moment of desperation, let’s take a look at this… plan.

Blog reflections ~ Considering I started this blog on Christmas Eve 2012, I may as well look back on some of my worst posts ever and laugh and cringe at how badly worded they are and at my failed attempts to make jokes. And just muse over how awesome you all are and wonder about how you don’t realise how much I suck.
Reflections on the past year ~ Basically where I remember all the really bad/awkward/stupid/idiotic things that have happened over the past year and cry about them whilst armed with a pot of Ben and Jerry’s.
Resolutions (and what happened to last year’s) ~ Oh dear.
2014 Bucket List ~ Bucket lists are good, right?
Hopes for 2014 ~ Probably trying to be deep and failing.
Blog ideas and series that I may or may not keep up ~ I have so many ideas lying around so I may as well list them all and have this list as a constant reminder of my decreasing blogging abilities.

Oh god.

Have I done any of these things?

No, no aaaaaand oh look! No!

So, swiftly moving on from that.

What have I done?

Well, are you sitting comfortably?

…Yeah I got nothing.

Is an existential crisis an appropriate reaction to the moment you realise that you have literally done nothing but eat pizza and cry for half a year?

Maybe talking about my current state of affairs would be a better idea. you wish, don’t even pretend you’re doing something with your life

Currently, I am a pizza-devouring, guitar-playing, peach tea-drinking almost-sixteen year old on the brink of crisis. I’m constantly torn between the lust of having electric blue hair and keeping it dragon-scale blonde, as one of my best friends once described it. I long to be a mermaid in a sea of fairy lights but also a shadow, writing dark poetry in the moonlit corner of a room. I watch Supernatural too much and I cry when Dean gets hurt, but I can’t say I care so much about Sam. I eat a lot of pizza and Oreo chocolate and I thank God for fast metabolism. I have the best friends in the universe and am ever so slightly in love with them. I want floral skateboards and snakebites and black and white dresses and books and an endless supply of Ryden fanfic and films and bottles of Jack Daniels and I want 50s swing dresses and Alex Turner and to kiss Andrew Garfield on the cheek and I want tickets to see Arctic Monkeys and to travel the world and I want to feel intoxicated.

But also?

I’m average. I’m fifteen and working at a little garden centre on Saturdays to pay for my music addiction. I’ve talked four people out of suicide and I would be lying if I said I can cope with that. I’ve been advised by a doctor to see a councillor, which isn’t possible for me until next term at least. I’m in a constant battle with my mind and I have a few too many scars to prove it. I’m scared to let people down and I’m scared to see myself get any worse. I don’t know where my relationship is going; I don’t know where I want it to go. I don’t like to admit that I get jealous, or paranoid. I don’t like to admit that I still want to die. Or that I still want to see blood. And I’m sorry we don’t talk as much as we used to. And that I ignore you sometimes. It’s just so loud in my head that I can’t string two words together to tell you that I love you. But I am okay.

And I was not the girl who listened to The Smiths before she heard Asleep in Perks. And sometimes I don’t read the books before I see the films. And I don’t have a fake ID and I’ve never even properly got drunk. I get nervous putting my hand up in class, but I’m good at small talk. My idol appears naked on her album cover and is known to be one of the most reckless females in the rock industry but I’m self-conscious and I’ve never had a detention. And I would like to say I don’t care about anything but I have to please people. And sometimes I like to talk to people just because they try. And I’m prone to mood swings and sometimes I hurt people and say the wrong things. My sister is one of my closest friends and I rely on her a lot. I’d like to say that the only person I rely on is myself but I need certain people to stay alive.

And I would say that I am rather quite unextraordinary.

So.

Mid-year review?

Ordinary. But okay.

One day left.

Tomorrow is my last exam of this year which means that I can finally start blogging again, after weeks of revision, procrastination, crying at Supernatural spoilersand, honestly, lack of inspiration.

So, before disappearing for another week or so (from Monday night – Friday, I’m in France on a school trip shit… I’m actually going to have to speak French… I can’t bullshit my way through this now, lord help me but I’m hoping that’ll be hella fun), I thought I’d make a quick post or something just to remind you of my existence.

And it’s only three weeks until summer break! I’m like, 9462865% done with one day weekends (I now work on Saturdays and my boss is an A+ asshole) so it’ll be so good to forget about everything and actually have time to hang out with friends.

Also, I went to the advanced screening on The Fault in Our Stars a couple of weeks ago and oh. My.

I literally came out the cinema with eyeliner streaming down my face.

It’s very close to the book, and the casting is perfect, despite having doubts about Ansel when I first saw the cast list, and it’s everything I wanted it to be. GOSEEIT GOSEEIT GOSEEIT.

And that is me done for now, I’ll see you in a week or so ^-^

Xx

Les nouveaux événements dans la vie de Alex.

(I have no idea whether that title is even remotely right am I supposed to care about this but yeah this is an update post after my shoooooort *cough* month-long *cough* absence… come on, it’s not like no one else takes a hiatus once in a while, shut up and judge me)
It’s the Easter holidays right now where I’m from (yeah we apparently have different holidays to the rest of the UK, like whose amazing idea was that, HMMM?) so I’m still off school for another week-SWEAR TO GOD, WORDPRESS ON TABLET IS THE MOST GODDAMN PISSTAKING THING EVER TO GRACE THE EARTH-. I’m visiting my grandparents from Tuesday to Thursday this week in the south so chocolate, coffee cake (best thing ever) aaaand a load of posh accents ^-^ *casually offends like, a third of the British population*. So that means no wifi unless casually walking through Chichester where random wifi signals decide to throw themselves at me. Also, Chichester means Jack Wills. Jack Wills means basically looking at all the clothes that I can’t afford and then wallowing in my sadness as I eat overly expensive cupcakes for the sake of it.


…That means no posts or replies hahaha like I post anyway for a few days buuuut I’m sure you will all survive without me.

Sooooo, the happenings.

Only 18 days until I see my babies, Panic!, in Manchester, which I’m incredibly excited about because YES. This being the second time of seeing them, I think I’m possibly even more excited as I know how amazing it’ll be aaaaand I know how excited it’s making two of my besties as this is their first time a) seeing Panic! and b) going to a gig like this. Another of our… Well… I’m not going to refer to him as a friend because he was pretty much 50% to blame for a fall out that pretty much split our group into thirds… But anyway he (let’s call him N) decided to invite himself which pissed us off to no extent. However, this does mean that if he decides to be a twat again, as he’s relying on the one person he’s been the worst to for transport, we can just casually drop it that he’ll have to find his own way to Manchester. Hah.


Also, I got tickets to see Tonight Alive at the end of November which will be amaaaazing ^-^ Plus tickets are pretty cheap (£13.75) sooooo why not?

Moving on, it’s almost 5 months with Skate now. He’s trying to get me into skateboarding so I now have one of his old decks propped up against my radiator. It is a loooot harder than you think, but it is fun so we’ll see how it goes.

Last night I went to a funfair for like, the first time possibly in my life? It was on my bucket list so myself, my sister (C), my friend (L) and her sister, also friends with my sister (M) went to the local Easter fair which, I believe, happens every year round here.

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There was this small caterpillar rollercoaster (exactly the same as the one in Twinlakes if anyone from the UK has ever been) so, naturally! my sister, who is now 18, and I sat at the back like mature teenagers and definitely did not scream when it dropped like, a metre don’t judge me, okay, I wasn’t expecting it. There was one of the sky flyer things, the one that has the swings on the outside and then it goes up and spins around. It was pretty high so you could see the sunset and it was pretty beautiful. Then we ate candy floss amongst all the lights in the dark and it was just a really nice night, almost like living my childhood now as I never really lived it when I should have done.

Speaking of childhood, I was in WH Smiths the other day and came across a shelf of books from a series called ‘Magic Kitten’ by Sue Bentley. You may have heard of them or seen them around, especially if you live in the UK. They look like this:

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These were like, my favourite books from when I was about 6-7 years old and so, in 2007, I wrote to the author and we ended up writing to each other until late 2011. That’s pretty cool, come to think of it, but the coolest thing is, in 2009, she actually based the main character in one of the Magic Pony books (adventurous titles, I know), on me so it’s no coincidence that the girl in Showjumping Dreams is called Alexandra. I just remembered that the other day when I saw it on the shelf. I also got one of the Magic Puppy books before it was published, being the special kid I was.

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So, there’s a piece of nostalgia for you. But I’m going to end this now as I can see you getting excruciatingly bored, plus I have an awards post to write see, Mia, I did post… Eventually so adios, cuties, until next time. Xx

The happenings.

So I realised that I haven’t actually done an update post as such in a while… Since 31st December actually.

I KID, I KID. I am very sorry indeed.

After a lot of low-mood posts (which, again, I apologise for as this blog has lacked happiness lately), this one should be a little more lighthearted.

Anyway, let me start by letting our dear Channing Tatum tell you a thing.

Awh, cheers, Channing.

stop talking to gifs you idiot

I can tell this post is going to be so ridiculously crap… TURN BACK NOW. 

please don’t go

*Josh Franceschi voice* STAAAAAAAAAAY WIIIIIIIIITH MEEEEEEEEEE-goddammit, Alex, shut up.

get on with it

Okay, so, firstly, last week I saw Fall Out Boy who were absolutely incredible. They were supported by The Pretty Reckless, who were just… I can’t even begin to describe how amazing that was, and New Politics who are still as adorable as ever.

We were in one of the middle stands so although we were pretty far away (meaning I couldn’t see Taylor Momsen’s face *cries*), we still had a pretty good view.

New Politics

New Politics

New Politics were the first support act and, as these have become one of my favourite bands since they supported Panic! At The Disco, myself, my sister and two of my best friends were screaming… Pretty loudly… Alone… In a room full of people who didn’t give a shit. Same for The Pretty Reckless:

The Pretty Reckless

The Pretty Reckless

Plus, of course there had to be the awkward silence during Heaven Knows where literally no one was singing back to them. *cringes*

Anyway, they were friiiicking amazing, Taylor sounded exactly as she does on the records and just… YES. SO MUCH YES.

(Heaven Knows – Sorry about the sound quality)

Fall Out Boy then came on and the entire place went wild.

Fall Out Boy

Fall Out Boy

IMG_2201

(My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark – again, apologies for quality, and the out of tune screaming at ‘I’m on fire’ XD)

Anyway, that’s enough of that for now (there’ll be a post about this up on my music blog, which I will introduce in another post as it’s not ready yet procrastination, soon).

Back in February, I saw Taylor Swift in London, supported by The Vamps and a surprise appearance from Ed Sheeran (I see the envy in your eyes hehe). I think I screamed louder when Ed appeared than when Taylor did, but there we go. 😀 That was also amazing.

The O2 Arena, London

The O2 Arena, London

*cries because Ed Sheeran*

*cries because Ed Sheeran*

Lego House

Lego House

Again, there’ll probably be a full post up on my other blog soon, if you’d like to read it.

Hopefully, HOPEFULLY, I might be at Reading festival this summer… HOPEFULLY. I’m relying on my sister to drive… (if you’re reading this, you know I love you and you know you really want to go, don’t you 😉 ) Hehe. The line up is incredible this year:

Paramore, Deaf Havana, Jimmy Eat World, Arctic Monkeys, Imagine Dragons, Foster The People (I rediscovered Pumped Up Kicks and oh my), Blink-182, You Me At Six, A Day To Remember, Sleeping With Sirens, Disclosure, The 1975, Clean Bandit (the amount of times Rather Be has been played on the radio is ridiculous but I can’t help but sing along), Don Bronco… Plus so many others.

Hit The Deck festival is also a possibility, with Kids In Glass Houses and The Maine, plus a shit tonne of others.

So, with a bit of luck, something might be possible.

Anyway, I guess I don’t have much else to say.

Life has been pretty uninteresting recently, apart from friends being twats, boys being twats, parents being… well, twats aaaaand that’s pretty much it!

It shouldn’t be too long before another post like this, or at least something lighthearted. A summer post will be up pretty soon too (I was making a moodboard in media class and it made me lust summer so much, like, I can’t even):

The amount of hipster on this is dangerous...

The amount of hipster on this is dangerous…

And so I think I’ll end that here, thanks for reading as always, I love your face.

xx

P.s. Pssst, you can follow my tumblr (http://onthecornerof4thandfremont.tumblr.com/) for a load of band posts and random shit (I’d like to say I have a theme but I really don’t XD) Xx

Reintroducing myself.

When I was younger, sometimes my grandparents would come and stay with us for a few days. One time, my grandmother and I walked down to the park in my village and we bought ice cream and a magazine and we sat on a bench by the pond facing away from the road and directly onto the fields and the hills. That was back when I was four years old, maybe five and I haven’t sat there since. I’m not sure why.

Also, we used to be really close with our neighbours. We’re still close, I suppose, though not so much. They have a son my sister’s age (let’s call him T) and a daughter my own age (M), so it was always pretty cool having two best friends living next door to you, well, strictly speaking, as our houses are semi-detached, in the same building. At one end of the hedge in our gardens, it was cut short and replaced with a little black gate that would always jam shut or not open properly, and we’d meet there, myself and M, whatever the weather, and then go to one another’s houses and play make-believes and make cupcakes and start projects that would never be finished. Then in the summer when the days were longer and everything was warmer and nothing had to be done, my sister, T and M and I would open the gate and we’d play Tig using both our gardens and cricket and Stuck In The Mud and football and T would swap teams because we all knew that he’d win the game. Then during the day, we’d take out all our brightly coloured pop-up tents and tunnels and join them together to make a giant network of tent forts and we’d have blankets and cushions inside them and we’d stay in there all day until it got dark. If it was raining, we’d go inside and make blanket forts in M’s room and we’d have chocolate bars and we’d talk about what we wanted to be when we were older. And then we’d fall asleep because it was 10 o’ clock and it was late.

And then M went to high school (she’s only six days older than me but is in the year above) and so we didn’t have much to talk about any more; she was grown up at a big, expensive school and I was still at primary, only just learning the things she learnt a year before. Sometimes we do still meet up to watch films or to thrash each other on Mario Kart or sometimes to just talk and I love that, and sometimes we’ll just talk about all these memories.

As myself and my sister, C, got older, we began to find ourselves needing each other more than ever. The pressure of high school and college and growing up in general began to get us down and we found that we actually could rely on each other when times were tough. When we got our dog, we began taking him for a walk every evening, just us, and we’d talk about everything. In summer, we’d walk for hours, around the fields and the housing estates and the hills and we’d sit down at the side of a flower-filled field and lie in the dwindling sunlight for a while, forgetting about everything.

And that is part of me.

The point of this is, it’s not your name or your age or where you live or anything that really matters. It’s about your story, and the things that have made you who you are. So those are just a few parts of my story and I think I might share some more with you soon, if you’d like me too. Also, you guys should also try this, make it however long or short you like. Let’s make this a tag, anyone up to help?

xx