…just put on some music and shake it off. Because haters are always going to hate. If at first you don’t succeed, try again, and again, and again. Try, until you finally get it right. Shy away from drama queens and divas. Don’t let them get to you. Defend yourself against false accusations. If you fall, pick yourself up. And, if you’re going through hell? Well, then just keep going. Power through. Rise above. Be the bigger person. Because you know the truth.
Times like these it sucks to be a long way from home and your only option is to Skype your parents. Texting your mum if she’s can meet on Skype and she replies ‘she is’ with a smiley face attached. However, this is not a call to catch up. This time your face is red and puffy from all the crying. Your voice cracks a little when you speak. The bad connection makes it difficult to fully comprehend what you’re saying.
Somehow, you manage to explain what’s going on, they give you the best advice they can and you know deep down they wish they could do more. That if they could, they would, be here faster than the Flash. But, it’s okay. Just talking to them on Skype helps. It’s okay. Because you know the truth and they know you. They know you wouldn’t do something like this. They know you’re not a criminal. They know you’re not a thief.
I was tired of keeping my mouth shut. I decided to speak up. But she wouldn’t listen. I tried to scream. But her mind was made up. Would I react this way if I was guilty?
I have many beginnings but no middle and certainly no end. They told me a long time ago writing would be therapeutic. It would keep me from going insane. Writing would help me process things. I came here to escape my demons. To get away. But looking back I realize it didn’t work. They’ve caught up with me. They drive me to madness, and makes this world a cold, dark and lonely place. I try to ignore them but they keep on talking. The voices. They won’t go away. I wish they would just leave me alone.
This has been one of those days were I feel like superwoman. I can do it all. Live an ordinary life alongside being a superhero. Waking up early is fantastic. I’ve gotten so much done today. Read articles and wrote a few paragraphs of my essay before I travelled to central London. Walked around central; bought tea at Harrods; walked all the way around Buckingham Palace. Just because I turned right and headed down the wrong street, but, it didn’t matter because the sun was shining. I met up with friends for a pint; walked some more before I took a break at Starbucks, just off Regent Street, read a few pages while drinking my Mocha Frappuccino. Then I continued down Regent Street, popped into Boots and bought some necessities, and then finally heading down to the underground. Took the Piccadilly Line, during rush hour, to Hammersmith, bought some food at Sainsbury’s, and then finally took the bus home. Home to eat dinner and watch one episode of the many TV-shows I follow, the rest of the evening I’ll have to spend working on my essay. I had a good feeling about it this morning and it made me a little bit more motivated to get it done. Because today I’m Superwoman. Or, I guess waking up early isn’t fantastic when you’re tired at nine o’clock. I don’t feel like spending hours working on my essay, instead I’m cold, tired and I want to sleep. However, I can’t,there have to be words read and written before I can go to sleep. Besides, Superwoman doesn’t go to bed at nine anyway!
Here’s the thing: I’m supposed to be writing my 2500 word essay which is due on Friday. Instead I’ve cleaned the bathroom, vacuum and dusted my bedroom; finished watching the movie I started last night; watched an episode of House of Cards; then went down to the local shop and bought Pepsi Max, 3 Kinder Chocolate bars, a bag of popcorn, a Capri-Sonne, and a small bag of mixed root vegetable crisps. It’s not like I haven’t written anything. I just don’t know where to go from here. Instead, I’m procrastinating. I’ve read one article and now I feel like taking another break. Watch another episode of House of Cards. I’m starting to see the problem with Netflix. The problem with Netflix is that the next episode will start in x seconds and I’m not fast enough and the episode has started before I reach the computer. So I let it play.
Now, that I’ve actually managed to drag myself up from the comfort of my bed and sit in front my computer, there’s so much I have to check before I can start writing. Tidy up my e-mail inbox, check Facebook, the news, Twitter, We Heart It, or what I really want to is crawl up under the blanket with a cup of tea and read one of the books I treated myself to yesterday. Going in to a Waterstone’s just to have a look is never a good idea. First of all, I spend too long just looking at the books. Second, I can never decide which ones to get. Third, I never leave a Waterstone’s without having bought at least one book.
I’m doing it. I’m opening the bag of popcorn and I’m going to watch an episode of House of Cards. I guess my head just isn’t it in today. At least I’ve written something, it’s basically just needs to be put together and add some paragraphs. It should be fine. And I do write better under pressure anyway.
Do you ever drop eggshells; or garlic; or perhaps a bunch of noodles on the floor while you’re cooking? What do you do? Leave them there and see if anyone else will pick them up for you or do you pick them up and throw them in the bin? Do you sprinkle salt all over the kitchen counter instead of on your food? Do you wipe down the kitchen counter after spilling something? Do you wipe off the grease from the stove when you’re finished cooking? Do you slam the door shut? Especially, when you’re coming home late at night and your flatmates might be sleeping?
Walking into our kitchen is literally like walking on eggshells. Studying at home, my concentration is disrupted by someone coming home and slamming the door shut. I immediately think they’re mad or having a bad day. I was taught that you don’t slam the door shut; you close it. If I start to cook you can bet someone might come into the kitchen and ask me if I’m using the oven [while I’m about to put my pizza in the oven]. My sarcastic voice inside my head wants to reply: of course not, I’m heating it up for you. Oh, you’re having pizza for dinner? Why not just take mine, because your life is so much more important than mine. I can wait. It’s not like I have something more important to do. Out loud I reply as polite as I can: Yes, I’m using it but I’ll probably be done soon.
I’m so over it. I’m so glad I’m nearly finished with my student days, and the days where I have to live in student accommodation will be gone. Today’s ranting was brought to you by a girl who is tired of cleaning up after other people. But, since I hate cooking in a dirty kitchen I just do it, which Nike told me to.
I’m lost. Lost between dreams and reality. I live in a world between dreams and reality. It’s my world. It’s a world where everything is nonsense. But, it would be so nice if something made sense for a change. If I only knew where to find the closet, I would go to Narnia. If I knew the right direction, I would fly to Neverland. If I met a White Rabbit with a pocket watch, I would follow him down the rabbit hole and venture into the unknown. I would eat the cake that said, “eat me” and I would drink from the bottle which said “drink me”.
If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn’t. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn’t be. And what it wouldn’t be, it would. You see?
There are plenty of thoughts in my head. Running frantically around. Sometimes running a marathon. But I can’t get them down on a piece of paper – can’t write them down. They’re running to fast. I can’t catch a hold of them. There’s a whirlwind – a tornado if you like. Chaos. There have been no walks in the fresh air. There have been no walks by the Thames sipping my [black] coffee while music is blasting in my ears. Volbeat. In Flames. Five Finger Death Punch. I’ve been sick. Runny nose, sore throat and little bit feverish. I’ve been exhausted. My body said stop and I nearly hit the wall. But I’m better now.
I have this playlist with 303 songs; 1 day, 4 hours, 46 minutes and 13 seconds. It’s becoming an obsession. There’s always a song in there to fit my mood. Several songs in fact. I created it last year while I wrote my undergrad dissertation. I put it on today when I finally could go for my walk along the Thames again. I hit shuffle and it was the best walk in ages.
I tried to act normal and it was the worst five minutes of my life. I’m better at being weird. I’m better at being me. And I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m not normal. Normal doesn’t exist in my vocabulary. I tried it once and I don’t ever want to do it again.
I have big plans for Saturday. It’s going to be the best Saturday ever. I’m having a single’s party and you’re not invited. I’m going to buy loads of ice cream, whipped cream, and chocolate sauce. I’m not just going to buy it, I’m also going to eat it. Maybe I’ll buy a bottle of wine and drink out of my new glass, a [stolen] souvenir from last Friday’s night out. All while watching House of Cards (season 2) or perhaps recap the last few episodes of Game of Thrones (season 4). I guess it’s just any other Saturday… Wait, hang on a minute, is it Valentine’s Day on Saturday you say? Well, it doesn’t matter because, as you can see, I have big plans.
There is one thing that is always certain and that is after Sunday comes Monday. A new week; a fresh start. I’ve been trying to be a good student but this cold I’ve been battling had me confined to bed pretty much all of last week. Runny nose, sore throat, headache, and perhaps a bit feverish. But I’m better now. It should be a good sign that all I want is to put on my trainer’s and go for a long walk in the fresh air. But it will have to wait until Wednesday.