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.

I am human and I will let you down.

Here, for those of you in the Supernatural fandom, have a shit-tonne of feels. I found this song through an Instagram post a short while ago and it was the shot of Jared holding the card saying, ‘I am human, I am human, I am human and I will let you down.’ This is not okay. Not. Okay.

Anyway, I found the song just today however the picture itself hadn’t left my mind since the first time I saw it. And maybe that’s because it holds so much truth. Another song, Far From Never by The Pretty Reckless, includes the line, ‘no one will never let you down’ which I have begun to be accustomed to saying in the recent months since I heard that song for the first time also.

With risk of seeming incredibly pessimistic, when someone tells you that they’re never going to let you down, no matter how genuine they are or how much they mean it, they will.

It may well just be something incredibly small, but all the same, it hurts.

But this is human nature, we simply cannot build relationships with other people without something sometimes getting in the way, that’s just how it is.

Also, I’m not saying that as soon as someone lets you down, that’ll be the end of it, because for the majority of the time, it won’t be, and I firmly believe that people deserve second chances, sometimes third chances, but it’s when you find yourself continuously giving someone more chances that it becomes a problem.

Anyway, that kind of swerved a little away from the original thought (and I apologise for the fact that this is incredibly poorly written, I may well rewrite this sometime).

I don’t tell people that I’ll never let them down any more. It’s not true.

And when, during a fall out or argument or whatever you so wish to imagine, they tell me that I told them that I’d never let them down, I know that I said exactly the opposite.

xx

(A more light-hearted post will be up soon, don’t worry ^-^)

Empty.

Empty.

An existence. One filled with a ‘feeling’ so hard to comprehend, and consequently, inexplicably hard to define.

Being empty is when you are running on only the most necessary state of mind needed for the simplest survival; you carry out day-to-day tasks without realising. You walk, you eat, you drink, you sit down, you lie down, you stare, you disappear. You don’t realise.

Being empty is when you see your reflection and see it as just a reflection of a person whom you do not recognise. It is when you stand and stare at the person in the mirror for endless minutes, thinking nothing, seeing nothing. You do not see the emotions or the history behind the skin. You see only a person, it is not you, is it even a reflection any more?

Being empty is when you hit things, punch walls, cut deep, without a second thought. It is when you wait for the pain to set in because you need it so badly to remind you that you are still alive, not just in a limbo of confused existence. It is when you don’t even realise you needed the pain, you just do it as a reflex.

Being empty is being physically unable to move or talk or listen. You cannot move from your state of paralysis in front of the mirror or in the corner of your room. You cannot move the fingers that you have so intricately entwined with a blade away from your wrist. You cannot answer the question you were just asked. You cannot recognise the words that are being spoken.

Being empty is where you see only denotation. The connotations you automatically think have disappeared and you are left with nothing but ‘ceiling’, ‘rain’, ‘blood’.

Being empty is where you are not sad, nor happy, nor angry. You feel them all at once, in a rush so strong that you cannot feel them at all. Perhaps it could be said that there is so much emotion that there is none.

Being empty is where you do not know which is worse; the emotion or the state of numbness.

Being empty is when you do not feel. Being empty is when you cannot feel. Being empty is being a ghost.

Being empty is feeling nothing when your lover kisses you or wraps his arms around you and holds you tight. It is feeling nothing when she strokes your face and tells you that it is going to be alright.

Being empty is when you cannot cry because there is nothing to bring the tears, despite the millions of thoughts that circled in your mind just ten minutes ago.

Being empty is not living.

Being empty is existing.

Being empty is being hopeless.

Coming up in 2014

You will know by now that I am not good at all at keeping up with blog posts. There’ll be weeks where I’ll post almost every day, and there’ll be months where I won’t post at all. I think this is partly due to, aside from the ever-increasing pile of school work, the fact that almost all my ideas require time and energy, two things that I do not usually possess (currently I use all my remaining energy crying over Supernatural). Moreover, the only time I felt I could post anything worth reading was when something had happened in my life, which isn’t very often, so you were left with goddamn awful posts about nothing.

So, now, in the event that I have nothing to write about, I have created a list of generic ideas to complete as and when.

  • The ‘Letters To’ series ~ So this will basically be a series of letters to someone, maybe a specific person, maybe to a group of people, saying the things that I’d like to say but probably won’t. It could be just an open letter to anyone in a similar situation, for example, however it could be addressed to a friend of mine, or even yourself.
  • Challenges ~ You know the ones. The challenges that no one keeps up, ever. But I shall try my best.
  • Tags ~ Tags are fun, and easy, so why not? If you guys find any interesting ones, please tell me because I have no inspiration. As per usual.
  • A fuck tonne of feels posts ~ I have so many of these in my drafts and I have a feeling some of you could relate to them.
  • Reviews ~ Films, books, music.
  • A continuation of the ‘Reasons to carry on’ series ~ My aim is to get at least a couple of hundred to remind anyone going through a hard time why they should carry on.
  • Tutorials ~ …Craft things? Daily routines? Eyeliner?
  • Videos ~ Ooooh, videos. Not entirely sure what of, but there we go.
  • Novel ~ I can try and write a novel and post my progress. Not sure how that would work out. Which leads me on to:
  • A modern fairy tale series ~ Considering traditional fairy tales are bullshit, I thought I’d rewrite some. Why does the Princess always have to be saved by the Prince? And why does it always have to be a Prince and a Princess? Why not two princesses or two princes? ACCEPTANCE.

And that is just a small sample of ideas. You can remind me if I seem to have disappeared for a while.

Next post will be soon as it’s midday and I should probably get up.

xx

Insignificant Numbers. (and whatever else.)

Ah, hello. Nice to see you again.

SO YES, I AM BACK, HELLO HELLO, you’ve missed me? Aw thanks- they didn’t, stop flattering yourself -Great.

Anyway, whether or not you did miss me, I am back from yet another short spell of blog neglect. Yes, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay, I’m sorry. 

Um.

Alright, let’s start over.

*cough*

Let’s just pretend I haven’t been neglecting my blog and let’s pretend that I haven’t left about twenty different drafts unfinished because of my new Supernatural addiction and let’s ramble on about my insignificant being for a few hundred words.

What’s been happening in la vie de moi?

Actually, quite a lot. (Yes, I’m as surprised as you are.)

Firstly, I reached 100 followers on this blog about a week or so ago, which is, although probably a rather insignificant to some of you blog-famous people, kind of crazy for me. I was going to dedicate an entire post to this (wow, dedication, so much effort required) but I knew that wouldn’t get done so I suppose this is just a little thing to say thank you. This came just before my one year anniversary (Christmas Eve) so that was pretty damn cool. Truthfully, I never even thought I’d have five followers, let alone over a hundred. You guys are aware that I actually suck in real life, right? You’re not supposed to tell them that, idiot. But to all of you who follow me, or are reading this right now, or have ever read this stupid excuse of a blog, thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I’ve made some amazing friends this year through blogging (you know who you are) but this is going to be in my new year post (that I’ll probably finish in July or something, knowing me) so I won’t say much more on the subject. Buuut, yes, thank you all, you’re all fabby.

Secondly, I finally saw Imagine Dragons in November and, as expected, they were absolutely incredible. Plus, I held eye contact with Wayne for twenty seconds, and they were the most amazing twenty seconds of my life.

IMG_1922

I’ll do another post with more photos soon because I have so much to say about them and so many pictures to show you hehehe, jealous yet? and just wow.

Thirdly, you know Skate? Of course they know Skate, you’re always mentioning him, you creeper. Well, I may have somehow, somehow, managed to capture him. (In other words, he’s my boyfriend.) Hahahahaha, I know, I can assure you, I am just as surprised as you are; I mean, this is Skate. Le Sexy Garçon. That boy. What. What. That was weird. Really weird. But I love it. The only downside is  the distance (he lives about an hour away), however it’s not too bad. That’s what Skype and trains are for, right?

Fourthly, I got tickets to see Fall Out Boy, supported by New Politics and The Pretty Reckless, which is going to be AMAZING, and THEN, I ALSO GOT TICKETS TO SEE PANIC AGAIN IN MAY AND OH MY GOD, I CAN’T BREATHE AGAIN.

Gigs are now my life.

Speaking of which, I am going to start a music blog (yes, I know, I can’t even keep up with this one, let alone two) but I had a brief moment of realisation today. You see, in the future, my ideal career lies in music journalism, (preferably for the likes of Kerrang! or other music magazines) and I’ve always known that a good way to get an advantage over others is to have a blog, one which you can show potential employers in order to show them what you do. However, I am not about to show them this one (not a good idea to give them an insight into my fifteen year old weirdass mind) so, why not make a dedicated music blog?

I can’t say I’m entirely sure how well it’ll work out, but it’s worth a try. Moreover, if any of you would like to be part of it, please tell me because it would be awesome to get a load of you involved considering you all have impeccable taste and with more people, we can cover a wider range of music and make it a bigger project. But, it’s all voluntary so feel free to do whatever. Just let me know in the comments or through my contact page and we’ll sort something out!

But, for now, that is all from me as it is nearly 1am and my writing capabilities are slowly deteriorating yet again.

Another post later, most likely, considering it is now new year’s eve and it is only fitting.

Love you all, I hope you all have a lovely day and, for those of you in different time zones, happy new year!

Xx

Boys, boys, idiots and boys.

In my last post, I was debating a situation involving a lad in the year above. Remember? No? Didn’t think so.

Well… I just bit the bullet so to speak and just told him that I’d had enough. Not in those words, obviously, before you bite my head off for being mean.

The thing is… I had a day off school for the strikes on Tuesday and was hanging out with some friends for the day. He knew this. He knew because he’d asked me about four times previous to said day off. I swear the boy has the memory of a goldfish…

Getting back on track. So, I’d mentioned that I was with friends and if I didn’t reply for a while, that was why. But what did I get?

Hiya xx

Hiya xx

U ok xx

Hiya xx

U ok xx

Hiya xx

Wuu2 xx

Hiya xx

*sighs* I’m not even joking. These were half an hour-to an hour and a half apart. If I didn’t reply the first few times, did he not realise that I probably wasn’t going to reply to the next five?! I DO NOT NEED A SPAM OF ‘HIYA’s’ for crying out loud.

At the end of the day, I just felt intoxicated. It was too much; NEWS FLASH: excessive amounts of messages are not hot. Anything but.

Soooo, I just kind of wrote a long winded paragraph full of bull about having a lot of stuff going on  and needing time to myself to sort things out (that much was true), not being ready for a relationship, that he needs to reduce the texts a little, etc etc. I felt so bad, because, of course, I know what it’s like to be on the other side. Buuuuut, at the end of the day, it was infuriating.

He was insistent that we could ‘make it work’ and I just kind of sat there like… hahahahahahahaha no. I’m so nice, aren’t I!

All in all, he seemed to be okay with it, and said he’d leave me alone for a bit.

Did he?

No. No he did not.

The next day:

Hiya

Hiya

U ok?

Have you sorted things out yet?

I cannot sort my life out in a day.

So I told him this and he apologised and again, said he’s leave me be for a while,

Surely he must have done so this time?

Nope.

I think there was a gap of a day. And then came the ‘Hiya’.

I felt obliged to answer so it was small talk like always. I was shopping in town at this time so when he asked what I was up to, I said so. Now, maybe this is just me reading too far into it… But, when he said ‘If u don’t mind me asking who with’ The suffocating feeling returned. Did it really matter? Was he jealous? It just so happened that I was just with my mum and sister, but it just appeared to be very suffocating.

Next came the sob story: the ‘fallen-out-with-a-‘good-mate’-and-I-regret-ever-being-born-and-everyone-hates-me’ sob story to be precise. Oh well done, try to make me feel bad for you.

Ugh.

But I’m just so done with him.

Can't deal with it photo tumblr_m8jhbiHYBx1r9wyf9.gif

And so is the story of… Let’s call him A.G.3. Awkward Guy 3. Pretty apt? Yep.

Moving on to other boys… More interesting boys. *cue excessive winking*

I have decided that the guy who sits next to the twat in front of me in French… *drum roll* is hot. And not so much of a massive twat as I first thought. In fact, he’s really nice. And he talks to me. That’s a first. Plus I have his Snapchat. And he’s tall. Tall guys are just… My dream. He’s beaut. We spend French lessons taking the piss out of the idiot, now named Imbécile which is hilarious. Ahhh, French has suddenly become much more enjoyable. Let’s call said hot guy, …T.H.G.i.F – Tall Hot Guy in French. How creative.

Nom nom nom.

'Did someone say cute boys?'

‘Did someone say cute boys?’

I’m currently having an ongoing war with Skate about who’s hotter. Myself or him. Totes flirtay leik. I’m very much enjoying it.

Bon nuit mes amis.

xx