Breakfast

I'm currently sitting in a cafe in central York attempting to hush my irrational thoughts. Everything is so fragile, yet on the the verge of something completely wonderful. My life is edging towards being perfect, yet I'm so completely terrified of it going horribly wrong. Sometimes I feel ancient, trapped in an eternal darkness. But now a new dawn is breaking and the golden light of the sun burns my eyes.
I don't give my heart away very easily. But now, I'm certain I've found the home for my heart.

A very lovely place to be.

A lot has changed about my life since I last posted anything. I'm finding my feet again. I moved to York last April and battled a lot of personal issues. I am still trying to expel all self-doubt which has haunted me for sometime, consuming the very fabric of my self-being. I'm pretty proud to say that I'm getting there. Mind you, I can't take all the credit for my personal successes. My boyfriend, Craig, has been my guiding light. He seems to hold a quiet confidence in who I am, and that must take some strength. He is moving to York soon and I hope to live with him soon after.
Happiness is present and I'm holding on to it for dear life. There's really only that ever-haunting sensation that I'm going to lose it all, that I deserve non of it. That's just something that I'm going to have to over-come. I fear to strive for something for the fear of experiencing defeat. It's quite ridiculous really. All of this anxiety cooped up inside is really doing no good at all. So my aim is to release it, to let it go. To shout "Fuck off! Be gone! I deserve to be okay!" I aim to return to university and get my MA. I hope to travel distant lands, to throw my hair back in foreign air and to laugh freely. Freely. Fear is like a prison. It not only dominates my thinking, it dominates what I do. It shackles me from seeking out the greatest adventures that my life could offer. That's no way to live. I am excommunicating fear from my life. For me, this is not common sense- this is bravery. Like facing the monster under your bed, you'll find joy not in realising the monster isn't real, but in how brave you were to kneel on the carpet and peer under your bed.
The best thing about this whole moving-forward-in-my-life malarky? I am not alone!

Changes.

My vision is blurred by a pale incandescence. My focus finds the bottle green of the living leaves that are dangling on the trees above me. My fingers grasp the cool earth beneath me. My hair feels damp and my skin is cold. In the distance I hear the howl of a wild beast. The dawn is coming but I feel a calling from the night.

I feel an ache fill my hollow chest; an ache for a lost love. A cry escapes me as the darkness of distant memories holds me. The dawn spills golden light into the forest but I am already lost to the night. 

"Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels."

Hello!
I've moved back home from university finally, so this past week I have been unpacking and sorting out all of my things. My room is beginning to look like a room but I still have an unreal amount of books to find a place for. As you can see I have quite a large DVD collection too. Oh dear. 

At least this isn't over-crowded!

These shelves still need sorting. That bottom shelf is dipping in the middle. 

By the way I started a healthy weight loss blog on tumblr called http://40daysofthin.tumblr.com/. This records my weight loss progress. Anyway, I hope you are all well and I will try and post something more interesting soon. I promise!

Barcelona

I'm sorry I vanished for a few weeks. I couldn't log on to my blogger account and Google wouldn't let me reset it for ages. I managed to do it today though! Very happy. For now I am just going to post a few photographs that I took in Barcelona from two weeks ago. Enjoy!

Never love a vampire.

My mind is broken. I am torn. All I want is to be left. Don’t try to fix me because I’m not okay. I never will be. Just leave me alone. How can you love me if I hate you? I hate everyone. Just let me go. Oh, fuck off. Don’t be a martyr. Don’t suffer me. I’m not your responsibility. Someone once promised me that God would carry my soul. But, you see, I don’t have a soul. I’m pale and empty and that is beauty. My hate is self inflicted. I am completely selfish. Don’t- please just don’t make me feel bad. Don’t make me feel. Let me jump. I want to get lost in the incandescence of this breaking dawn. I will be immortal because I sold my dead soul. I will be ancient. Just don’t come with me. Leave. Just leave.

I am fractured; the flaws in me stand out like the tiny imperfections in cracked porcelain. If you look close enough you will see that my smile is a grimace, that the shine in my gaze is just a reflection of a glassy stare. My teeth are as white as a virgin’s wedding dressing, but the sharpness of them was made to penetrate you. There’s little difference between me and the night. The speckled light of the stars is just the remaining shards of my soul; scattered and distant. Their gleam is tarnished by the dark. 

Redrum

So I created a new blog: http://iamafraidofpeople.blogspot.com/. I am going to post all of my short stories on there. It's going to be pretty bleak at times, I must say!
Just a short up date:
I'm currently sitting in my university library doing what I am good at: procrastinating! I purchased a new book from Waterstones the other day: A Game of Thrones by George R. R. Martin. It's pure heaven at the moment- dark and wildly sexy (when I say sexy I mean the plot is very exciting, of course). I am also rereading The Shining by Stephen King. The Shining is one of my all-time favourites. 

"All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy."

Just a general update:
The last week and a half I have been attempting to catch up on all of my work. I had to return home from university for over a month because my father was unwell. Now he's back on the mend I can now take on the full load of work. I got a mark back for my dissertation literature review that I had completed whilst at home. I was certain I had done terribly because I completed it in around 10 hours but, I have to say, I'm very pleased with the mark I received! 

At the moment I am trying to grow nails because I want to wear beautiful nail varnish. However, as you can see, it doesn't look good at the moment. I would wear fake nails but considering I hand write most of my work before typing it up... well, it's just not going to work out, is it?
I have around six weeks to clear my room out as the contract on my house is nearly over! I'm quite looking forward to returning to the comforts of home, but I am especially looking forward to being able to see Shaun, my boyfriend every week! The thing is I have far too much stuff and my room back in County Durham looks very clean and nice at the moment. I won't throw any of my books away as that plainly feels like a crime but I have a lot of prints and posters that I may have to sell. It's going to be difficult... Does anyone want a big poster of Marlon Brando?...
What a babe, right? 

Clown in the Moon- Dylan Thomas

Clown in the Moon My tears are like the quiet drift Of petals from some magic rose; And all my grief flows from the rift Of unremembered skies and snows. I think, that if I touched the earth, It would crumble; It is so sad and beautiful, So tremulously like a dream. Dylan Thomas

Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven- William Butler Yeats

AEDH WISHES FOR THE CLOTHS OF HEAVEN


Had I the heaven's embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,

I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

-William Butler Yeats

The Catorialist.

I never find anything marvelous or get anything done half the time because I am really very lazy. So, I must give credit to Fen Frances from Subject of Style - she posted this on her facebook and I almost died of happiness. The Catorialist. Now as you all may know, in a previous post I told you how much I love cats. So The Catorialist blog is PURE heaven for me! Here are some of my favourite pictures...

Bones of Woe- Stan Rice

THE BONES OF WOE

Golden are the bones of woe.
Their brilliance has no place to go.
It plunges inward,
Spikes through snow.

Of weeping fathers whom we drink
And mother’s milk and final stink
We can dream but cannot think.
Golden bones encrust the brink.

Golden silver copper silk.
Woe is water shocked by milk.
Heart attack, assassin, cancer.
Who would think these bones such dancers.

Golden are the bones of woe.
Skeleton holds skeleton.
Words of ghosts are not to know.
Ignorance is what we learn.


-Stan Rice


To see more of Stan Rice's poetry click here.

It was a Sunday.

Don’t trust anyone. There’s very little in this world I care about, with the exception of myself. I would sit with my peers, gazing on. What they never understood was that my silence was plotted, picked out for pristine moments when I became invisible only to observe them, only to smirk at their stupidity and always know that I am better than any of them. They would call me an outsider and look at me sympathetically because they thought that having a shy friend like me would make them look so much sweeter. School politics. Playground etiquette. The Plastics have an odd friend, oh how sweet they are for accepting her into their group, how sweet! No one suspected me of anything.

The world would glance at me and I would glare back with all my fierce hatred and if the world were to ever notice it would recoil in terror and disgust. I have seen the deserts, the blank landscape, the abyss that falls into nothingness. I never looked for a God because God never looked for me. I never searched for my reason because I knew there was no reason. I glare back at the world with all my fierce hatred because I know there is nothing beyond what I see. God is a copy of all the empty hope that fills our empty hearts. I now know that nothing is real and I feel cheated for it.

This realisation, this horrifying revelation came to me like a dream. Whatever I do, I know it doesn’t mean anything. It was a Sunday when my peers came to my house. It was a Sunday when I pushed one of them down the stairs. It was a Sunday when, with calm serenity, I stooped over her limp body and placed the heel of my foot on her nape, applied pressure until I felt the crack and crunch of her bones. It was a Sunday when I killed her just because I could. 

York

I dream of better days. I remember hazy spring days when we were children, you were always bigger than me, always stronger. I remember the white days of winter when we were lost deep in the woods building snow men.  I want to reach into my childhood and tell myself to thank you for all that have ever done for me. I want to tell you how much you mean to me.

 I lie on the damp grass where you slumber underneath and I listen, wanting you to talk to me. I once dreamt of you standing by the ocean, waiting for me. You told me that you could never go home. You were so serene against the velvet skies of my dreams and I wanted to capture you and keep you in my heart, forever alive. But I awoke feeling lost.

The desperation of wanting you back ways heavier every day. I remember whispering in your ear come back to me knowing that you never will. 

Inspire: favourite quotes, perfect hair, pale colours, skinny legs.

Source: tumblr.

Yorkshire love.

I was sitting in Starbucks messing around with my camera (when I should have been doing my dissertation work) when I realised that I don't really have any photos of York. I finish university in May so I thought that I would start taking photos of things that I find beautiful here in York. I thought that I would take a few photos a week and post them on here. Enjoy!

Sorry- this one is a bit blurry!

Teddy Bear tea rooms. :)