Here comes the sun *dooby do doo*

The sun was shining today. I didn't wear a coat to school, or even a jacket. I wore a Woolley cardigan (albeit my massive hobo cardigan) but whatever the essence of no coat and no hat/scarf/gloves is still there.

Everything just looks better when you have a day of unexpected frees and unexpected lifts home and unexpected sunshine.

Wednesday 27th February

Oh god I missed a day I feel so annoyed!

What's even the point in carrying on...

Oly joking of course I'm continuing, as I am NOT letting this be the catalyst for failure.

We shall return tomorrow.

Things get a little dark...

The days are running into each other.

I literally cannot remember any defining factors of the day, which is really quite scary. There must have been something significant!

At lunchtime we took a quiz to find our personality defects. I was a hippie. (Overly positive, so I can see this) I am also 0% blunt I.e. I am not mean, which is probably why I will be a pushover, get into an abusive relationship, not have the guts to break away, and ultimately kill my partner in self defence. It was agreed amongst my table that this could actually happen, as I seem to be the type to murder.

Great.

This is all in jest of course. Well it better had be or I'll wap out my knife on you.

That is also in jest. I'm not a sociopath, honestly.

Or am I?

No I'm not.

I hope.

Ishy day

Today I went to my English Teacher at lunchtime. I was instructed to bring all the poetry I have written this year, to sort through and make an anthology for my coursework. I showed her 'Beside You' (yesterday's post) and I think she was nearly sick.

"Are you in love? Why so whimsical? It doesn't mean anything? How are your curled in the soles of his feet? Ae his feet bare? Dirty feet? Does he have socks on? Every rib? Isn't that a bit wierd? The folds of his shirt? What kind of shirt? Is it cotton? Can you feel his warmth through it? What colour is it? Nothing is concrete Beth! Sow don't tell! Have you experienced this? When? Ate you in. Relationship with this boy? WHAT DO YOU MEAN KIND OF? Are you together? Oh so are you not together? If you say kinda one more time I swear...Never to wake? What? Are you dead? Have you died? You die beside him is that it?"

Needles to say she didn't like it. I agree its a very strange feeling abstract poem, with no real backbone, but I wrote it because I felt I needed to. And if am not going to edit it,just leave it be as a personal poem that I can just enjoy, remembering how I once felt.

I'm not bothered, as my English teacher is usually right about most things. And I do agree with her, but still. Why must I describe it? Does it matter that his shirt was white cotton, soft and sweet smelling, I wondered if I smudged all my makeup off nestling into it? Whatever.

Today has been a hard day. It started with a tweet of misery - "don't really see the point in college today...or in life to be honest" - which surprisingly got 2 retweets a favourite and a reply of "#cutforbeth" which just proves that misery is appriciated on twitter.

Apart from that, a rushed essay, a bad targeted grade from the teacher who hates me, the canteen running out of chips, and realising I've passed on last weeks cold to said owner of white shirt I do so want to bury myself in and now he's really ill and I feel guilty and I haven't done tomorrow's maths homework...today has been interesting.

Good points: I didn't wear a coat. Only a jumper and my denim jacket which looked actually ok for once and was warm without coat wear. And my hair stayed curled than usual. Yes. That's it. That's all the good points of today.

I hope tomorrow is better (it usually is).

Beside You

Leave me here
Within the folds of your shirt,
Curled up under the soles of your feet,
Cradled in the crook of your knees,
Sheltered under the palm of your hand,
Clutching to the bulge of your arm,
Integrated between every rib,
Trapped by the joint of your elbow,
Studying each eyelash one by one,
Resting on your broad shoulder,
Falling asleep beside you
Never to wake.

Mleh.

So tired.

Must sleep.

Amazing blogpost.

Lol.

Within the folds of your t-shirt

I just want to bury myself within the folds of your t-shirt forever till my makeup imprints on your shoulder. Leave my legs intertwined between yours; your feet tickling my soles. Arms touching (just about), little hand resting on big muscle. Your head resting on my head. Breathing in and devouring your sweet scent. Your foot annoyingly shaking. Fingers tapping my thigh like a regular,comforting drum. Take your big breaths, I'll take my little breaths. Big hears and little hearts slowly beating together.

Then I just want to go to sleep and never wake up.

London Day 3

Last day of London today! We went to the Science Museum (which was good apart from screaming kids on half term hogging all the fun stuff) and then back to Euston and then got on the train home. The journey seemed quite short, the highlight of which was eating a M&S Roast Chicken Sandwhich, also known as the lunch of kings.

I'm knacks red now, and excited to go back to college as I've freaking missed my friends, but I am Not looking forward to work catch up.

I've already had a nap, but I'm going to go to sleep now.

Goodnight x

London Day 2

I'm literally just living it up right now having tea with the Queen.

That may have been an incorrect use of the word literally.

Real blog post soon :)

London Day 1

I am NOT taking my iPad to London with me (for obvious reasons such as I will break/lose it) but I will still be writing my blog whilst I'm there either on paper or I will publish from my phone. Just I case that doesn't work I have queued some post so I can just edit and fill them I later.

Until I get back!

Beth x

Sharing

It's interesting trying to share your work with other people.
Especially when they are the person who inspired it.

You wonder if they get the subtext. Do they pour over every word wondering which each one means? Do they're-read it over and over? Do they even realise its about them at all?

Or is it just me who listens and feels echoes of myself in your song and wishes I could asking but knowing that I never will.

But you've probably poured all you could ever want to say into it anyway, so I'll just listen and soak up every sound.

But remember if I show you a poem, then it's only because I'm trying to say something that cannot be said out loud.

Little necessities

I have come to the epiphany that this is my life and if I want something then I have to make it happen.

And I can make it happen.

And I will make it happen.

I am the one who has to live this life, so I need to be happy with it, and not get anything get in the way of who I want to be and what I want to do.

I am going to be the change I want to see in my life.

This newly found positivity has given me confidence in myself to go and achieve everything that I want to. And can do. And will do.


This may have been a long time coming but finally the realisation has dawned upon me.

Watch out world.

And they called it puppy love

After talking to my mum just generally, she literally said that at the age I am now, I cannot experience love, but more importantly I cannot have deep thoughts.

Erm hello. All I have Is deep thoughts. I would benefit greatly from NOT having deep thoughts.

My intelligence feels insulted.

It's quite contradictory to tell somebody to dream, to be whatever they want to be, and then just take it all away, as my view and thoughts aren't true (being a silly teenager and all).

I sometimes wonder if adults have just forgotten what it's like to be a teenager. To have the world at your feet and a dream in your pocket. Sure in a few years I'll laugh at how grown up I thought I was, but right now in this moment, I am present Beth. And present Beth is only really aware of herself at the moment. And this being the oldest she's ever felt, feels pretty old.

Isn't it strange that the age your at now, as in right this very second, is the oldest you have ever been up until this point.

My god if that's not deep what is. I JUST CAN'T HELP MYSELF. I am deep. Weirdly deep. Not even good insightful deep, honestly just plain strange.

Whatever. I believe my life matters and that my thoughts are valid. Then again, the fact we all think this is perhaps why we have things like crime and holocausts...oh gosh did I just deeply think again? The horror.

Maybe all teenagers should write a letter to their future selfs, reminding them what it feels like to be young. I personally think this is an excellent idea. This can substitute as my letter to my future self entitled "why teenagers are people too".

*Round of Applause*

Oh god.
Happiness.
I like parties.
Oh god.
This proves that waiting is best.
And also...Argh.
And also....kisses. So they're a fun thing.
This makes no sense but neither does life right now.
But my god.
Oh my god.
Words fail me.
Just. Yes.
Yes yes yes yes.
Also I like making friends with people. Bonding is fun.
So is singing if you're happy and you know it to drown out noises. (It was the first song that came into my head okay)
Also I like comforting people and helping them because I know when I need help I hope karma means that somebody else will help me.
I've not been to a party in so long I forgot how much I'd missed it.
I like people.
Also, yes.
Woah.
Life.
I don't know how I'll feel tomorrow, but right now I am just pretty freaking happy.



He kissed me.
I don't care. This is my blog, I can write what I like.
He kissed me.

Valentines Day

Just another Thursday. I don't feel sad about not really celebrating it! It's like a Jew getting upset over Christmas...sure it looks fun but i don't believe in it! There wasn't even any couples on social medias who were particularly annoying...or at least more annoying than usual. Everyone just seemed to embrace singledom/love for others in a nice way. A lot of people ranted on how 'you shouldn't need one day to tell people you love them". This is true of course, but seriously...rejoice in this day where you (the lucky ones at least) get love and happiness and free chocolate!

Then again....slightly disappointed nobody sent me flowers. Not that anyone would, but there's always the slight hope.

Cough cough I like tulips, Lilly's and freesias cough cough.
Cough cough to be honest any flowers sent would be great tah I'm not actually fussy cough cough.

I did however get lovely heart shaped food from my mum, and I sent poems to my friends - because they are my TRUE true loves.

The last line of which read:
"One things still true,
No matter what the sitch is
You don't need no man
When you've got your bitches"

I believe this from the bottom of my *not lonely but actually full of love* heart.

Direct address to you from a chunnering nut.

Today my blog has been viewed 123 times. I do not understand this. Like, who is viewing this? Why? How am I found? If the Internet is a busy room at a party I am like a random nut in the nut bowl, slowing chunnering to myself. WHY WOULD YOU LISTEN TO THIS RANDOM CHUNNERING NUT?

I don't even think I've enabled followers, certainly nobody is following this.

All I know is that today I followed a few blogs (the best procrastination from college work) and BAM views. I know it may not seem like. Lot, but its such a sudden increase! Also got the first comment. Sure it was correcting my science, but whatever. Small comfort that the commenter put mear instead of mere. Yes you may know how long light takes to travel to earth from the merest star outside of the galaxy, but at least I can spell. Pride before a fall and all of that good sir. Anyways...the first comment brought some excitement, because if you provoke a reaction in someone, surely that's all a creator can ask for; response?

I forget that some people actually read this. I may try to forget so I continue to write because sits in my head and I want to express it, instead of feeling like I have to please a reader. Whatever. You may like this, or you may hate it. I feel if you don't want to read something you just click off it and forget about it anyway, plus I have no intention on trying to please the Internet, as aforementioned the Internet is a pretty big place! If just one person enjoys what I do though, then that's something!

I know I am far from the typical blogspot user. I have no interest in outfit of the days or product reviews. I wonder if there are others out there like me, and I'm desperately looking, but I do not understand how to!

I feel a if I'm missing something obvious. Blogspot is still a deep mystery to me I fear!

Ideally somebody should come and help me please. Anyone? Any offers? No? K thanx bye.

Starlight

Light travels at 299792458m/s. So when we see starlight we are really seeing the past. That light was emitted minutes, maybe hours, countless days but probably years or even centuriesbefore (depending on how far away the star is) and has traveled distances we can't even dream of.

The funny thing is, that a star can die, but we can still be seeing its light long after. It's gone, but we can still benefit from its light.

It just shows how some things only touch us long after they're already gone.




This is such a wierd, wide, pointless idea. I might not look too much into it. Tomorrow I may actually make sense for once (probably not) oh well.

Why I refuse to mope about singledom

Today I am hating on boys, love, and just relationships in general. Perhaps this epiphany is a result of watching too many Mike Falzone videos, or because I've watched 'He's just not that into you' or because the Valentines Day is looming, but I suddenly came to the realisation...why the heck would somebody my age want a relationship?

At this point in life, it is acceptable to not have a boyfriend, infact it seems to be the norm. Sure the odd couple emerges and is happy, but being 'alone' and whatever isn't seen as out of the ordinary. The older you get the less acceptable this becomes. Mike Falzone says in one of his walk and talk videos that a good relationship is 50% you being completely happy with yourself, joining with somebody who is also completely comfortable with themselves. And I sure as heck am not at this moment who I want to be.

I am working out new things every day. I change my opinions every week. My personality is changing so quick that I cringe at the person I was mere months go. I am NOT a stable person, but I feel that's fine. Now is the time when I'm meant to be working stuff out. And I don't feel as if another person to worry about would help. I don't completely love myself, so why should I expect someone else to?

I think I need to stop making excuses and feeling sorry for myself. It's not MY fault. I don't need to dress better, be prettier, or change myself to be loved. I am who I am and that should be fine. And if somebody doesn't want a relationship then its fine. Or just specifically with me. That's fine too.

I solemnly swear 'He's just not that into me' is my new mantra. For when somebody doesn't text....it's fine. He doesn't HAVE to. But when he eventually does text I shouldn't jump at he first sign of need. I don't need it.

One more thing; no more mind games. Playing hard to get? The clue is in the name....it makes life hard. Actually finding love should be easy, and if two people like each other then they get together. But if two people like each other but one is reluctant yet they remain in the same place? Bullshit. What's the point?

No more being messed around. No more moping. I'm literally a toddler in the world of love, and I'm trying to run before I can walk. So I think I'm just going to sit on my nappied buttocks and just play in the sandpit while I'm still young enough to.

And when on Thursday I receive no flowers at my door/ no proclamations of love, I'll just be thankful I have one less thing to worry about, and more time to sit down and enjoy life.

I'll save wailing about my single status till I'm middle aged and bitter shall I?

Les Miserables (for the third time)

Today I went watch Les Mis with my mum. Well...most of it. We arrived before the film started, but due to the system at the certain Empire Cinema, we missed all of look down, the priest, and Hugh Jackman pre-bath. Though there was enough servers on, because every customer took about 10 minutes to order their tickets plus popcorn and drinks and oh I can I change my order and oh I can't decide which flavour of tango ice blast I want and....

I know it's extremely clever because as you buy your tickets you are enticed to buy food, but for people that just want tickets and have to wait in line behind indecisive families, it is just awful. Sort it out Empire!

Nevertheless, I still enjoyed the film. I cried the most after all of my experiences, possibly because I was with my mum who is the one who brought me up on Les Mis. I know all of her favourite bits e.g. when Stars was on, I sobbed because its her favourite. Many tissues were used.

Please enjoy this graph of tear amounts over the times I have watched it.

This time I noticed that the candles the Bishop gives Jean val Jean can be seen in the background every now and then, which I just love. Hurrah for hidden meaning!


We then went to Starbucks to recover emotionally, because nothing makes you feel better than a nice peppermint mocha frappe!

Stitch and Bitch

I have fallen back in love with knitting.

I learnt when I was young, when I used to scoot up to my Nana's house with my knitting bag on my scooter handles and spend the afternoon making scarves for my teddies.

But this week I just suddenly felt the urge, and then realised I had lost my needles and only had scraps of wool, so I "borrowed" some shiny pink metal needles from my nana, and then spent a large chunk of my wages on wool - not that wools expensive but there's just so many colours I couldn't make up my mind!

Tonight I taught my friends to knit, and we had a lovely night concentrating whilst listening to a playlist of Disney songs, the Dreamgirls soundtrack, One Direction, Justin Beiber and classic uplifters, which we entitled 'The Strong Confident Woman Knitting Playlist". It just showed that knitting can be a social activity, and so what if the general connotations is an activity for old people? If that's so, then give me my free bus pass and call me an O.A.P. because knitting is a lovely, underappriciated art form.

Who needs a boyfriend when you've got knitting needles? (Innuendo not intended)

Thoughts on 10 Things I Hate About You

I am so rubbish with films, there are just so many classics I haven't seen (e.g. Titanic. Yes I know I know, I'm sorry) but when I don't have exams I try to watch as many as possible.

So tonight was 10 things I hate about you. Oh gosh. Such a good film.
Thoughts:

* as if a young Joseph Gordon Levitt is in it? God I love him.
* I don't like how intelligent women are always portrayed as the wierd ones, but sadly reading "The Bell Jar" just isn't a culturally norm (though I'm reading it at the moment and its great)
* Where are all of these dark but actually really cool, nice boys hiding may I ask?
* The 90's are such a strange time, with their crop tops and wide pants and leather coats. And why do the girls in these films always have flip flops on? Nobody appriciates flip flops these days
* The whole detention scene would not work in this day and age, because we 21st woman have this amazing invention known as; the bra.
* Rom-coms make me happy and sad, because I get the overwhelming feeling that life isn't a fairy tale for most people and films are simply for escapism, but they higher our expectations in life.in other words, I am sad because no mysterious boy will take me on a boat, go paint balling with me and then kiss me in the hay, because that just isn't real life, and I really wish it was.

An open letter to John Green

Now I can die a happy Nerdfighter. Thankyou.

Thoughts on Physics Lectures

*Jeff Foreshaw is smart and nice and obviously the brains behind Brian.
* I barely understand Suvat in class nevermind quantum physics
* I like free pizza
* I also really like free Walnut Brownies
* Guess the instrument is a fun game to play when waiting in a music college
*Violinists always look like violinists whether they're carrying a case or not
* I talked to Prof. Jeff...about Pizza but whatever. He's still a person who likes food. Even smart people are allowed to like Pizza.

Poetry open mic and balls of clay

Today was going to be a lovely chirpy tale about today's Open Mic Poetry reading and anthology launch, but when it comes down to it I don't have many thoughts apart from:

*I read my poems. It was ok. Not really a response but I wasn't really expecting one
*Why do you have to explain the origins of where the poem came from? I can't really say "well I am obsessed with a boy called Jack and i was texting him and this is the situation we're in but metaphorically it shows how he is reluctant to express his feelings as he's scarred from a previous relationship/wants to be single/maybe doesn't like me so this is about that k?" can I?
*The audience was a secular group of the editors wierd friends, so that was nice.
*Very poor refreshments. I did not enjoy my biscuit.
*I liked hearing some of the poems aloud (more the ones by the people I like)
*Some of the people that came to listen were actually lovely
*I volunteered to edit a short story anthology, and hopefully do a better job. (And by better i simply mean not giving up halfway through like the previous editors)


It is possible I have a negative spin on things simply because I'm feeling sad after having a long, long discussion/argument/shouting match with my parents, and then I spilled some pent up feelings and woes upon my friends, some of which the opinions I might not feel tomorrow, but today I feel pretty strongly about. It's sad. I feel like I'm constantly changed by the people around me and it just depends on who I believe in at the time. I hope every human thinks like this. Where do we get our opinions from? Nobody just gets some inner voice do they? Should they?

It's times like this I wonder who I am or if I'll ever truly know? Or if we're all just meaningless balls of clay moulded by the conditions around us before we are eventually washed away by the rain.

I am trapped within

I will live vicariously through my words and become a shell of a girl dreaming about the simple pleasures one might think were simple and easy. A girl who doesn't ask for much but works hard does well tries to be kind. Who reads and writes poetry and enjoys looking for beauty all around? Who only wants to live and break like a "normal" girl would.

But she isn't "normal" (or so they said) but normality was the very thing she desired more than anything.Finally finding a place to fit in then being torn from it, yet still there watching what might have been.And think about how fulfilled my life may have been if i'd have adventured when i was young. If only id seen more of the world. Breathed fresher air. Seen bluer seas. The world outside is grey and drab and soon i will blend into it. Like i never existed at all.

I mean do we exist? We are here for such a short time and then were gone and it doesnt mean much. I suppose you've just got to make yourself happy. I dont know what it is that makes me happy exactly. The feeling when your in a group and you all laugh at the same time, untill your eyes water and your stomach hurts. Or the feeling of utter freedom. The instant when you jump off a cliff and you are suspended for a moment. Yes you plummet down but for that short time you are free. And you can bathe in the shallow waters or jump into the waves. I am watching the beach from a diatance. Running a hand under the tap but it just doesn't feel the same.

Wish i'd feel something.

Anything.

I am trapped and I can't breathe so i may as well just not breathe at all.

Late

I am writing this at 7:07 on Monday morning. Oops. Thank good my time settings are out of wack, so it still thinks it's going to have the right day (I hope).

I've been so bad lately. I missed the last 3 word of the days on my Tumblr (www.onewordperdayoneyear.tumblr.com) and now this slip.

I've been ill this week, I'm not going to bed early enough, and this week is going to be mental. Right this needs to be a wakeup call. I am NOT giving up one month in!

Come onBeth. Stop slacking!!!

I have stolen a smell.

You don't realise you have your own smell do you? You're so used to it you can't even notice it.

Well what happens if your own smell gets replaced? Perhaps you spent the night lying on somebody else bed, and when you get home your hair smells like that person. It's so strange because the smells is so alien yet is kind of nice. It doesn't feel like yours anymore. Where did my smell go? Did I leave it intertwined within your sheets?

You know what, there isn't even a point to this story. I could wax lyrical about taken over identity and you rubbing off on me, and me taking a little piece of you, but I keep getting distracted because my hair smells so freaking good.


It smells like smiling and listening intensively to rock music and warmth and unexpected contact and guitar strings and fear and abrupt car breaking and concentration and happiness.

A rant about objectification and leather pants

I wore Leather pants to college today. Just black "disco pants" or "wet look leggings" or anything else you may call them. Think Sexy Sandy at the end of Grease.

So I was loving life with my stretchy pants being all comfortable, and then I found the bad points of tight leathery pants. It's the reaction you get to your pants.

What makes people (specifically boys) think they can just comment in a girls appearance and have it mean nothing? Here was the general thoughts I received;
*Woah what material is that?
*I'm surprised your mother let you out in them!
*Can I feel them?
*So...are you a slut?

Seriously? SERIOUSLY?

The thing that angered me was that males have no real equivalent. Whereas we may be called a slag for wearing something too low cut/short/see through, they are not judged or labeled about their sexuality as girls are. Of course we all make assumptions, as I feel clothes show who you are! Clothes help us to represent ourselves, so I don't disagree with that. We choose to dress ourselves a certain way so with that I have no problem.

It's the idea that women can be sluts by the way we dress. But what even is a slut? Do not define my levels of promiscuity based on the material of my pants! Jeez. Who said you could judge me and my personal life choices?

It's just when a certain type of clothing makes me fit into a certain box. Or be thought to behave in a certain way. I also felt treated a little differently today. In Maths my leg got felt (apparently to feel the fabric but whatever) which wouldn't have happened if I was wearing something less...smooth. Subtly I was definitely treated differently. Perhaps I was acting differently. I like those leggings because I feel really confident and fun in them! But wearing them doesn't change who I am. I could be wearing a calf length skirt and a long sleeved cardigan, but me as a person is still the same. Though my clothes are the different, my "slut levels" are the same.

Actually, think I disagree with the word slut. No. Stop criticising my life choices. Stop defining me by my outfit. And for gods sake, please just get off my pleather pants.