Scribblings

Clandestiny

Silent all your life. Running without vision. Hollowed out inside. Wronging all that’s right. There’s no cost to be alive and no reason to escape from us. There’s no illness and no pain; haven’t found any suffering.

The road is long and bare. No clarity; no light. The moment came and swallowed us, blinding all our sight. We will keep you free from harm, all you have to do is stand with us. I will mend your wounded heart and resort the trials that you have lost.

Give your life so I can breathe. Save our lives, it’s all we need.

We can lead you under ground and devour our humanity. Follow me and follow sound to the end of your eternity.

Give your life so I can breathe. Save our lives, it’s all we need.

I have many memories from this place, both good and bad. It’s good to be back but I’ve changed since the last time I was here. I’ve come to realise that I’m not so dependent of the comfort I find here anymore. Finally, I’ve become the person I want to be. Finally, I’m free from the ties that binds me to this place.

Back when I used to live here I never used to this. Never. Not in a million years would the person I used to be go out, grab a bite and a drink alone. It’s been a struggle to get where I am today but when I move to London it didn’t take long before I did it all the time. And if  I could do it London then why not here? So, I grabbed a book and headed for what used to be my local pub.

Liberating is what it was!


Testing and trying out new beers have become a passion and interest of mine. In addition to getting my PGCE, it’s what I do for a living. I love it! There is plenty of liquid gold out there and trust me, I’m no talking about oil if that’s what you think!

I feel a sense of relief! I’ve only been here a day but who knew this was what I needed all along? All I needed was to get away [and someone to relieve the sexual frustration that has been building up for ages…]! I hopped on a train and let it take me away. Stayed a few nights in a hotel, had a fantastic breakfast and spent the days the way I wanted too.

When I returned after a year in London, I brought something back with me. It became a part of me and my lifestyle. People might think it’s weird – that I’m lonely. However, on a daily basis I’m constantly around people that when I finally get the chance to get out of the house apart from school and work, I’ve started to seize the opportunity instead of letting it slip away! So what if I’m alone in a pub, reading a book? That doesn’t necessarily mean I’m lonely, nor doesn’t mean I’m a loner.

Listen carefully and I’ll tell you what it means. It means I enjoy my own company and that I’m not dependent on other people!

There are a numerous of vacant tables… Why not sit there? Why did you have to invade my personal space? 


Liberate yourself from comparison and jealousy.

The leaves on the ground are dancing round and round in the wind. The only sound I hear is the music blasting in my ears. Puddles are drying in the sun. Schizophrenic weather is the correct terminology in my opinion. A few hours ago the rain came pouring down in buckets; now there isn’t a cloud in sight.

Rain… Rain… Rain… 

Is this seat taken? Yes! What a stupid question. Can’t you see there is obviously something sitting there? I’m sorry to have to be the one to telly you but I’m afraid that seat is reserved for my bag. You see I neither can nor wan’t to leave it on the floor. It’s too precious to me. But please don’t ask me how much it cost. It wasn’t really that expensive at all!


Lately, I’ve been wondering what the hell I’m doing. If it’s worth it, you know. Miles between us; cities apart. Why hold on to something that’s already dead?

Have you reached a verdict; made a decision? Have you truly made up your mind this time? Because this time it’s final. There’s no going back. You can’t play this stupid game anymore. He’s your could’ve been; should’ve been. But he never was and never will… I ask you again: have you come to a conclusion? 

Yes!

This time I have. I’ll admit I have mixed feelings about it but it’s not what I need anymore. I need my freedom. Freedom to do what I want with whomever I want. But I want you to know that I’m sad that it’s over but I also have to admit that I’m partly relieved and optimistic about the future.

He taught me to trust again. Taught me that not all men are bad and that it’s possible to let the wall down. I was afraid to lose you but you were never really mine. If only we’d had a second chance to meet for the first time. I wouldn’t have been the drugged and drunken girl you found walking alone on the street trying to find her way home. But you where there to save me and I will be forever grateful. Then the night comes and I’m all alone again…


I shed a few tears to today. I told myself not to cry because it’s over but instead smile because it happened! The missing piece of the puzzle is still out there, waiting to be found…

 

Scribblings

Afterwork

Alright, so here’s the thing: I’ve tried to stay anonymous. I’ve tried to hide behind the words that I write. I’ve tried to hide among common people. I’ve come to realise it’s not easy. It takes a lot of effort and hard work…

They call me ‘hell’. They call me ‘Stacey’. They call me ‘her’. They call me ‘Jane’. That’s not my name. That’s not my name. That’s not my name. That’s not my name. They call me ‘quiet’. But I’m a riot. Mary-Jo-Lisa. Always the same. That’s not my name. That’s not my name. That’s not my name. That’s not my name. 

Hell, actually that is my name. I applaud you. I salute you, even! After all these years you can still call me by my name! How on earth did you manage that? [sarcasm]

The past few months I’ve hated who I’ve become. But now? Oh, now life is pretty awesome – dare I say great? And it keeps coming down to being yourself.

I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’ve renamed this blog from Scribblings of a Dreamer to Gone with the Wind on Wuthering Heights. In a way that sentence is an exact description of how I’ve been feeling for the past months. Yes, I’m perfectly aware that I haven’t changed the web address but don’t you worry about that because that my dear will never happen.

Tonight, I realised something. No, wait – this past week I’ve gradually come to realise something. Something that I deep down always have known but never lived by. Now, I can honestly say I’m living by it as well:

I’m being myself… and it is a self I’ve come to love! Self-esteem is a great thing…

This might end the post on a rude not, however, I don’t care. Be offended if you must. Here goes nothing. Hope grows inside me when I see people bigger than me out and about with people who [appears to] love them… it gives me hope that someday I’ll meet the cliche! Someday I too will experience this crazy little thing they call love!

I bet you’re picturing someone fat – someone gigantic/enormous in fact. But let me stop your fantasies right here and now… I’m not fat… I have what they nowadays call curves.

I know a lot of things and I’ve learnt a lot during my lifetime. But can someone please teach me how to flirt? But I have to warn you. I’m a lost cause…

Because who in this world could ever love a monster like me…?

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Hello, it’s me…

…I was wondering if after all these years you’d like to meet to go over everything. They say that time’s supposed to heal ya, but I ain’t done much healing. Hello, can you hear me? [Hello by Adele]

My deepest apologies but I’ve been living off-the-grid for some time. After I completed my MA dissertation I needed time to heal. I never came back after nine days. When I finally escaped the zone, I found myself prisoned in a new one. Finishing my dissertation completely drained by battery; thwarted my inspiration and I didn’t feel like spending any more time in front of a computer. For while I went back to reading and stopped writing. Fifteen thousand words killed my inspiration. I lost my voice; my inspiration. I forgot how to write. Creating sentences with words was no longer an art I could master.

I’ve been absent for a very long time. I made a promise I couldn’t keep. I fell down a rabbit hole and ended up far away from Wonderland. There was no Queen of Hearts screaming “Off with their heads!”. Neither a rabbit with a pocket watch nor a mad hatter challenging me with his riddles.

Do you know me? Do you know my name? You might think you do but you don’t. If you were to guess: Where do you think I’m from? 

I took the anonymity of the World Wide Web for granted. Thought I could hide. For a moment I thought everyone I knew was reading the words I wrote and published. Paranoia got a hold of me. But I have remained anonymous. My cover has not been blown. You don’t know my name or my story.

There’s no excitement any more. No recognition of the hard work I do. No grades. No evaluation. Just people who think they’re better than me. I want out. I’m counting down the days. Till the end of April, they told me. I’ll hold you to it. Come May, I’ll be gone. I applied for a new job. I got a job interview this week. Hopefully, the outcome will be entirely positive. Edit: I got the job!

Once again I find myself at a crossroad and I don’t know which road to take. Do I go left, right or perhaps I should go straight ahead?

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Bring me to life

I used to be angry at the world. Music dictated my mood and apathy consumed me. You never saw a smile on my face. If you did, I’ll bet you a 100 quid it was fake. I was a master of disguise. I hid behind masks. I consumed my weight in food and ate the pain away. I died a slow and painful death. Every day a little piece of me died. Because I wasn’t happy. Because I wasn’t alive. I didn’t live my life. I let the past define me and words haunt me. I cried. I screamed. But no one listened. There was no sound. No words. Only silence. Silent screams. 

I wasn’t like the others. Didn’t look like the others. Had different clothes. I used to be fat and insecure. I cried myself to sleep. I was excluded. Wasn’t pretty enough. Wasn’t skinny enough. I stopped trusting. Music and books became my friends. My escape. I consumed the words. Listened till my ears bled. Everywhere I went books and music came with me. Always. Never alone. 

It wasn’t until I moved away from home and started university I felt free. Free from the past. Like the Phoenix I rose from the ashes. I started running. Faster and faster. I tried running from my demons. I tried running away from the storm. Instead, I hit a wall and I fell hard. Down into the dark abyss. Surrounded by darkness I was lost. I was blind and couldn’t see. I pushed too hard. I ran too fast. I lost myself searching for someone else. Something else. I tried to be someone else. But I could only be me. 

I used to be angry at the world. Then I found myself [cliché, I know]. I found a better version of me. I found the golden mean. The desirable middle between two extremes. I continued to run. But stopped running away from the storm and stopped waiting for the storm to pass. Instead, I learned to dance in the rain. I found my place. Started to dream. Worked hard. Lived life. I found my way out. Out of the abyss. Out of darkness. Like the Phoenix I rose from the ashes. 

The past is the past. Life starts now; life is now. If you want to be happy, be… 

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Black filter coffee, please

Now that I’m about to accomplish one dream, I’ve started dreaming about the future again. Come August it’s time to grow up. Get a job and earn some money. Start saving up and sometime, way down the line, buy my own place. Decorate it after searching the web for inspiration; decorate it the way I want.

That’s why I need to get these assignments done.
My future is the only thing that keeps me going
and the only driving force I have left.

Some days there is neither inspiration nor motivation to go on. I’ve had enough. Six years is a long time. Two bachelor’s degrees and come August I hopefully have a master’s degree. Six years of studying. A ton of words read and written. Numerous cups of coffee. All those late nights. Not that many all-nighters. None I think. However, in 154 days – 5 months – it’s the end of an era and the dawn of a new.

How long is it going to take before someone reacts to that car alarm? It’s been sounding off for about 15 minutes now and I’m starting to believe it’s all in my head. But it isn’t. I swear. It happens a lot around here. Car alarms go off all the time.

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When the world explodes…

…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.

London

Superwoman

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!

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Ranting

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.

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Another Day, Another Way

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.

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