Ooh, productive!

Actually had a well productive few days!
Well, few weeks really.
So I had my first full week back at college last week, and a sort of half week before that too, and it went ok. I dont feel like I'm swamped by the work yet, though it's early days lol.
Politics is meh, there's a lot to take in and it's all mainly text, so not too much of a problem yet. Though I imagine when it gets closer to the exam in January, I'll likely get a bit more stressed out by it.
English literature is going okay I guess. I don't feel like the only one in there who knows what I'm talking about, as opposed to last time round, but that's expected as they're an A2 class. Obviously they're my tutor group too, so that's where I'd normally get 'friends' from lol, but so far the social side of things seems to be slower. But it's early days I guess.
Photography seems to be going quite well actually. We've got a full on two week project on 'Self Identity' that's actually nearly done, final piece has got to be done a week on Tuesday, eek!
The whole sketchbook side of the project I feel fairly confident about, because I love that kind of thing, and didn't do too badly to get an A* out of my art gcse. I know it's a whole different kettle of fish but the basis is the same.
In terms of the actual photography, it doesn't seem to be going too badly. At least my lecturer seemed fairly impressed with the stronger shots from my first shoot when she saw them last lesson.
Outside of college, I've been doing ok I think. Got round to downloading and sorting out Photoshop on both computers, got both manual and digital SLR's sorted, and just general other stuff sorted.
Plus my sisters coming home in just over a week for about 3 months ish :) which does possibly throw up some other issues is mum wants me to come out to her and I'm like nnnnnnnngh no not yet. But hey, bridges to cross and all that.
In general, alls good... for now.
Now all I need is someone to share it all with...

So You Want To Be A Writer - Charles Bukowski

if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don't do it.
if you're doing it for money or
fame,
don't do it.
if you're doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don't do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don't do it.
if it's hard work just thinking about doing it,
don't do it.
if you're trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.
if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.

if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you're not ready.

don't be like so many writers,
don't be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don't be dull and boring and
pretentious, don't be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don't add to that.
don't do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don't do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don't do it.

when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.

there is no other way.

and there never was.

Help like this in my skin
is naked and lost
and never even there,
so you see right through me
but thats the problem.
Seeing through me
isnt the same
as seeing me and realising
what I'm really trying to say.

I'm unable
more than I can say I am
feeling like
the walls of the worlds
are caving in
doubling back and landing
on my head
cracking my shoulders and skull.
When everything leads
back to things unsaid
and you wish
for the times you hated
you know
there's a problem.
But the truth isnt far behind me
and its trying to rely
on my falling
yet again.
Hands fall down
and there's no skin left
underneath your hips
when I breathe,
deep into my lungs you creep
and we slip into
some kind of
remnant we lost.

Stops for no man.

So my best mate moves to Chichester uni tomorrow :(
And my mums in London for the weekend, and it sounds like grandads getting ill again :(
It's nearly a month til it's a year since my nan died :(

Although I don't feel as shit as I expected, I do feel lonely again. For a change.

Hurry up and come home sis?

Moving on up?

Right now I feel happy.
Mum and dad just told me that my sister is coming home for 3 months ish in October. Since we left her in Aus, she's been feeling really down apparently. Having not been around when all the shit was going on with me, and when nan died, and then when we were over there and grandad had his heart attack, it really got to her.
So she basically broke down at Uni the other day and her boss basically said, "go home, you need it." She's been feeling like she's been wasting her scholarship because she hasn't been able to concentrate, and the uni have said they'll suspend it for her no problem. As well as that, apparently one of her housemates has now turned into a druggie, so she'd have to move out anyway.
So I get her back again for a while :)
She wont ever admit it, but its for her. She needs the break away to sort her head out. Grandad cant drive his car at the moment anyway, so she'll borrow that, and maybe get a part time job to get some money together.
And I get her back :)

In terms of college, its been... weird.
It feels so weird being back in that place... where I used to have friends and a future I was sure of.
In terms of people... I dunno. Some of the people in some of my classes seem cool, others... well, I can already tell we ain't gonna get along!
The whole 'making friends' malarky is already freaking me out though. On the one hand I feel like I'm better off on my own, but then I know how lonely I've been feeling. But I dont know what to say to anyone!
I've never been brilliant at meeting new people, and I'm even worse now. Doesn't help in some classes cos of where I'm sat... I overhear other peoples conversations and I'm like "I have something in common with you", and I'm stuck on the table where no one's saying anything.
I dunno... I know it's early days... as in, two days. Just gotta give it time right?

So now I've got to make a start on the first bit of coursework... already got a fucking 2 week photography project deadline!!
Starting with research on photographers and exploration of self identity... yay.

Only tricky things are some of the subjects at college actually... first photography project is on self identity; I dont know who I am. First english lit topic is home; I hate being here. And in politics today my lecturer hinted at one of the things we'd be discussing under the criminality and feminism umbrella would be rape and self harm... Just gotta keep my head I guess.

So... off to research and brain storm I go!

Is this the first day of the rest of my life?

First off, bonus points if you get the musical reference in the title. Bully for you and all that.

Secondly, this post, as usual, turned into more than it was meant to.

So tomorrow is Tuesday 14th September, and my first day of college since Januaryish 2009.
Suffice to say I'm fucking bricking it.
Been a bit quieter today on twitter because I haven't really known what to say. I didn't wake up properly until 11 again, and then I couldn't get out of bed, because I knew if I did I'd go and do what I don't want to want to do straight away. So instead I stayed in bed sleeping, crying and generally feeling shit until about 4.30pm, then came downstairs and had pizza for dinner. Considering I hadn't eaten all day, I didn't feel as bad about having it. But I still felt shit after it. Natch.

As I said last night, I’m probably the closest to needing to cut again as I’ve been in a while.
I figure the pressures of going back to college are getting to me more than I first thought they were. I don’t really know why I’m so surprised, it’s not like I’m any good at coping with much anyway anymore.
I’ve never been the best at social interaction anyway, and I’m even less so now since the shit happened. I’m honest, I don’t even really know how to refer to what happened now. I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be ‘proud’ of being a ‘survivor’ or whatever, and be open about it or not... Or even how open I’m supposed to be. I just generally say “I’ve had a shit couple of years”, but what the fuck does that mean, you know?
Maybe a bigger part of my problem than I thought is talking about it. Not actually ‘it”, cos I’ve dealt with that as much as I can to be honest... I don’t let myself think about what happened in terms of ‘the specifics’, cos whats the point in torturing myself? I’ve moved on from what happened... It’s everything else that wont leave me alone now. It’s the abandonment by my friends, the way they treated me, the way most of the people in my past treated me and turned out, its all of that thats the problem now.
And how I do or don’t talk about what happened.
I can’t say the word out loud at all anymore. Maybe that means I haven’t moved on, but I can’t deal with that possible analysis right now, but what the hell. I can’t say the word.
So how am I supposed to talk about it?
Am I even supposed to talk about it?
I guess it freaks people out in so far as they don’t know what to say, or because no one else knows how I’m feeling about it, or how someone in my position is supposed to talk about what happened to me.

But this is all besides the point. I highly doubt (and hope) I wont have to deal with that particular conversation on my first day at college anyway.
But it’s all in my head, all the time.
What do I say to people?
How do you meet new people nowadays? I sure as hell don’t know anymore. At this rate I’m likely to forget my real name and introduce myself as Holly, then look like a right fucking twat.

My head is once again all over the place.

I’ve got to meet new people, and possibly some people from my past too. I don’t know which is freaking me out more; meeting people who know nothing about me, who wont have any pre-formed opinions of me, but will find it easier to judge me straight away or; the people who were in the year or two below me in high school and know who I used to be... They’ll be the ones wondering what the fuck I’m still doing here. I’m not bragging, but in high school, everyone always assumed I was going to do well for myself, and fast. I wasn’t popular in the usual sense of the word, but a lot of people knew my face. Having stood for elections in the UK Youth Parliament, my face was all over the school a couple of times, and I was known in the drama circle quite well. It was always my performance group who had to perform our GCSE pieces for a third time, to the lower years, as an ‘example of good work’. And of course, I was known for less desirable reasons too... When word got out about me being gay, that kind of superseded any other ‘reputation’ I’d built up over the last 3 years in that place, and the last year turned to shit. I was still known for some of the right reasons in the drama, art and music circles, as well as english, but the rest of the time... Well, I was known as the fat, weirdo lesbian who keeps getting pulled out of class to go talk to counsellors or because I kept getting landed in the shit in the last year for smoking or bunking off or worse.
But despite that, I dunno, sounds really fucking trite, but in the right circles I still retained a modicum of dignity and a better reputation. At first when I left high school and was at college, the drama teachers kept inviting me back for one reason or another. First it was to talk about starting up a higher level drama club with me as the only teacher (that never came to fruition because of exams and then... Well, life fucked me over didn’t it) and then to direct 3 girls in a short piece they were performing at Exeter University at an awards ceremony. Sounds lame, but after a couple of months directing those girls, when I went and saw them perform, (and picked up my award, la dee daa) I felt so fucking proud of them. They were cool girls as well... I think they’d kind of picked up both parts of my ‘reputation’ and didn’t really know what to make of me, so they just went with it, which was cool.

So a lot of those guys from the years below, who have uninformed gossipy opinions of me, will be at college too. And possibly doing the same subjects. So I’ve got to deal with them in some way. Sure, maybe they’ll have grown up and forgotten all that shit... Because lets be fair, they all probably had much more important things going on in their lives than me... But I still wont be able to shake that paranoia in the slightest.

I’ll see someone look at me, and panic. They think I’m fat, they think I’m ugly, they think I’m a bitch, they think I’m thick... Yes I’ll honestly believe they could have got that from looking at me for a second. I don’t half make life difficult for myself right?

Of course, you know now that by letting all this pour out of me I’m crying again right? Saying all that about how my life was, even though it wasn’t great, it was a fuck load better than it is now in many ways.

Jesus, you know things have turned to shit when you miss the days when your friends fucked you over daily, the rest of the the school you hated bitched about you, you were cutting yourself every day, getting fucking stoned before exams for the hell of it, but still managed to do alright in the things you wanted to do... Right?

Fuck me, I didn’t realise how fucked I was. I mean I did, but I didn’t, if that makes sense. Of course it doesn’t make sense, its me talking!

I miss acting. I miss drama. But I can’t go back there. I want to but I can’t. I wonder though... I mean, I haven’t got the confidence to stand anywhere as me, maybe being someone else is what I need... But its too late now. Technically I could still pick up the A2 at college, but thats the wrong kind of theatre for me right now... Too many fucking written exams for one thing. I just miss it, because hell, I was a fuck off good actress! I had nothing else at high school except that at one point. People who never in a million years would have spoken to me, told me they thought I was good at something. People who never in a million years would be jealous of someone like me, were jealous. I was good. I got into the National Youth Theatre at 16 for fucks sakes... Now I know there are others out there who did the same, but that’s because they’re good as well! I had something, I really fucking did. Acting and writing, thats what I poured myself into when I had nowhere else to go, nothing else worth even fucking living for, and then...
And then I couldn’t even get up in the morning. The last thing I wanted was to get up on stage and pretend to be someone who was happy, when I was so desperately unhappy. I couldn’t write either. I was dried up and dying... And I still kind of am.

So tomorrow, is the first day of the rest of my life.

I’ve got to walk into a room full of strangers, with maybe the odd face from my past, and hold my head up high, and try not to look like the utter wreck I am inside.
I’ve got to try and come across as confident enough to be out in public... Ha! Good one.

I mean, fuck off am I gonna be someone I’m not... But I’d be able to say that with a lot more conviction if I actually know who I am.
Right now I’m still a lost little girl, with no one to turn to who isn’t miles and hours away, with no confidence and a shit load of hang ups, issues and paranoia.

So that’s who I’ve got to be. But not.
This should be easy... I mean, I’m an actress and a writer, I deal in fictional characters, right?

Well, we’ll see.

I’ve also still not got my head around all this other stuff I’m feeling... I don’t even know what that’s all about... Right now its nothing other than a distraction, and I cant decide if its a welcome one or not. On the one hand its taking my mind somewhat off college, but on the other hand, its just another ton on my shoulders I could really do without.

Right now, I’ve just gotta stay away from knives, and any of the faces from my past I could happily cave in with my fists... And believe me, there’s a fair few of those around....

How today began and ended...

Spent all day till 4.30pm in bed, generally crying, beating myself up and feeling crap, all so I wouldn't do the one thing I could really do with doing right now.

To the brink.

Just for a change, this ain't some happy shit.

Have you ever been so unsure of yourself and how you're feeling, that it feels like your brains are pouring out of your fucking ears?
Thats where I'm at now.
Plus I'm starting college again on Tuesday, and all the old worries I thought I'd put down for a while are flooding back. It's mainly my weight that's the issue, having not lost as much by now as I'd (unrealistically) hoped I would. It fuels my already raging paranoia which is always helpful.
Cos you can never be too paranoid, of course.
On top of that is the fear of failing, of making an ass of myself, of not coping with the work load, of being shit at it all etc.
It's the whole being left behind by everyone thats the problem. It's not just my old mates that are leaving me behind, it's life.
My head is burning, and if I'm totally honest, I'm this close to cutting again.
Not what I'd call a fresh start at all.

Fucked.

That's it, mood's gone again.
I fucking hate me. I feel like I could fucking love you but it's wrong, and that maybe you've had enough of me now anyway.
I'm just a fucking shit bag and I wouldn't blame you anyway.
Hey yeah I mean I can be a nice person, fuck I'm like a gentleman half the time, but I'm still a fucking mess.
Looks like you've worked that out.
I know I should give you more credit but every other fuckers turned out that why so why should I expect you to be any different.
I don't know what I fucking want but it certainly isn't this.
I've got to go.

Plastered.

Have I got confusion plastered all over my face?

Because I can feel it burning in my skin and shivering down deep in my blood.

Confusion breeding in my brain, birthing some twisted kind of self resentment, beating myself up over every feeling that I cant even name.

Love, hate, lust and everything in between.

Am I loving you or just confused? And so the confusion is confusion.

I've been hurt too many times before, by myself, and anyone else I dared to fall in love with, or anything like it.

If I even knew what any of this was I'd clear it up myself, but I dont.

Is the confusion as clear on my face as it is in all my space?

Every minute is full of nothing that makes sense.

Love and adoration, or love and like, so much alike.

They have the same face and the same sounds and smells, its easy to mistake them.

So I'm told.

But I've only felt just one of them, too many times before, and I've been well and truly burnt.

So what is this now?

Please help me.

Band aid.

Maybe it's a case of first time was the easiest, like ripping off a band aid, and any other time is gonna be harder because now, the wound's exposed.

Honest.

I hate myself more and more everyday.
And with that, I fight myself everyday.
I fight with myself that I'm worth something, that I'm a good person, that I'm not useless and worthless. I fight with myself in my own head.
I tell myself it's natural to still be feeling this way, that what happened to me wasn't my fault, that I'm still healing and it'll take time. That these feelings are all normal.
And then I'm like you know what, its been nearly two fucking years now, where the fucks my day?
Everyone tells me it won't happen overnight, I won't wake up feeling happy and normal and blah blah blah tomorrow morning. Do they think I'm stupid? A) you've been telling me that for the last 2 years and B) I can see that myself by now. But two years on and all I've got to show for it is... well, what?
That when I hit my bad days it's usually only just for a day, sometimes less, whereas before it'd wipe me out for longer? Is that supposed to be some consolation?
So I fight with myself. Cos I know every side of every argument you could ever have with me... any point you make to me, chances are I've already heard it from myself.

But who fucking wins?

The sad angry me?
The happy hopeful me?
Where even the fuck am I? Who and what and why the fuck am I?
Is this a good day or a bad day? I mean I don't feeling killing myself at this precise moment and the clarity's good, so what is it?

Every minute of myself seems like a nightmare, but am I ever gonna fucking wake up?!

I want to wake up from myself and be in a world where I don't feel like I have to torture myself over every little thing I feel every single day.
I want to wake up and not have to fight myself.
I need to wake up in a world where I don't hate myself and then expect other people to hate me to and then when they do or don't hate me I get angry and ruin it anyway.

Feels sometimes like I'm taken for granted, which pisses me off too. Even though I know other people have got their own shit, and I get in touch first, I get mad at myself when uneven get upset at any lack of contact, however much it makes sense.
Maybe it's because I've never had anyone who'll just be happy to just be randomly texting me all night that it hurts so much when someone doesn't reply quickly, or at all, again even when I know there's often a perfectly good reason.

I do my own nut it, and clearly yours too.

You can choose ( Atheists prayer. )

You can choose
to see life as so empty,
so utterly futile,
and human kind
as such sin filled monster,
ripe to be abhorred.
You can choose
to see life as so empty
that the only thing you live for
is an unprovable
improbably and laughable
wrath filled bearded man
in the sky.
Or you can choose.
See the beauty
in every being.
Feel the awe
of the whole wide universe
stretching out through time
and space
and memory
and place,
more vast
than our humble minds
can ever fathom.
You can choose
to hinge all your hopes
and all your loves,
perceptions and judgements
on a book.
Written by the greedy
edited by the rich,
or you can choose.
Marvel
in the creation
of your own mind,
in the chance that you were born.
All the other combinations
of you's or I's
that could have been
that ended in you.
You can choose
to see the magic in logic,
the superb and supreme
in all around us.
The reverence of nature
needs no rules.
All time is out before us
behind us
within us.
All that was before
brought man to this
to now
in the slowest blink of every eye.
You can choose
to live your life restricted,
hold your loves
condemned, deleted,
every thought judged and bleated,
to what end?
You can choose
to hide from the world
shrink from the wonders,
run from the 'impossible'
that was already there.
Or you can choose.
Do you see the world
or do you see the world?
You have a mind
within your brain,
shaped and moulded just for you,
by all your fathers
all your mothers
and all the others.
Use your eyes
combine the mind
and see.
You can choose
what your life is worth.
No book should sway
no lie should stray.
You can choose
what your love is worth
and who is worth.
There is more to see,
much more,
than that man in the sky
could ever know.
You can choose;
believe,
or live.

____________________________

I was in a random mood when I wrote this. Was feeling slightly reflective, and funnily enough, I was reading The God Delusion at the time.
Just speaks some of what I'm trying to think sometimes.

H.x

Writing.

Soft gliding hope
held in your hands.
The mystery
of subtlety
is nothing without you,
so handle me gently.
Soft simple skins
broken and bruised,
a temporary repaired.
Lay down
upon me
your hands or breath
or light;
make me permanent.
______________________

Jumping castle quiver
shudder in sunlight
blinding tremors
doused in ice.
______________________

Sweet belly burn
full and warming from the face
of a sun drenched shed,
bathing
in the sun
and tanning my belly
with red nectar,
sticky
so sweet.
______________________

I want to move inside your head
and never come back down.
You're learning to see
the difference of generosity
and how it melts inside you.
When its something that comes down to
a stormy way to pass you,
it makes me want to give it all up.
______________________

Can you see
a beautiful soul
in these muddy
blue grey eyes
or just this screaming hole?
Slipping on the slick of tears
and the flimsy veneer
of hope,
you see me pedal
backwards.

Yeah 'mate'

Thinking of replying to their message with something like this;

Guys I'm so sorry, I didn't realise you were missing me this much? To go to the trouble you have, when you must be so busy getting ready for that big wide world out there? Look guys, it wasn't great while it lasted, but I've moved on now. I got some great people round me, hell they ain't just down the road but they're closer than you ever were. I just hope you guys can move on soon enough, I'd hate to eat up all your bandwidth and what not. Hope uni's all good guys, and remember, you're more transparent than you think! Nice life and all that?

[EDIT] Ps, Cunts.

:P

Not bad for a first draft eh?

Genuine pt2

Home isn't home anymore.
Everything hurts when I'm on my own.
I'm the most loyal person I know.
I've got too much it hurts.

Vague statements, you might think. Yeah you're right. I don't even know.

On the way back from Liverpool/London last night, eg the driving back to Exeter leg of the journey, I was talking to mum about whether or not I enjoyed myself. Of course I did. Sure I was nervous as hell when I got off the train. My whole anonymity thing is a big issue for me, maybe because of itself as a circle, but for whatever reason it is, and it was a big deal to break it. But it was for the right people.

I can honestly say that Saturday night was the best night out I've had in about 2 years. Why?
I was happy.
I didn't feel like I had anything to prove. I didn't feel I had to be responsible for anyone else. I drank a lot but I didn't really feel it, because I was happy, for the above reasons.

I don't know what the point of this post is, then again I don't know what the point of any of my posts ever is. I'm just pointless.

Even when I was enjoying myself, I wasn't, if you get what I mean. There were moments in my head I'd be doing my nut in over something or nothing, that happens everyday though.
The main difference is that while I'd go out with my old 'friends' or ever at home, I'd be feeling constantly paranoid. On Saturday, I felt so much less paranoid than I could believe. These are people that genuinely know me as a person more than that old lot ever did, so it makes life easier.

But once more I had to come home.

I hadn't really ever thought about it properly before, but I think I get why being back sucks so hard. This place doesn't hold any good memories for me any more. Home is where I'd sit all day every day, on my own, with nothing to do and no one to see and no reason to get up and out of bed, just stewing in my own misery, for months on end when I was incapable of really living. This city is full of people I'd rather not see, round every corner of every building I'd rather not see either. But even though its a lot of bad memories, I still want to love it. But too many people have ruined too much of it for me.

So now home doesn't feel like home anymore, not so far as somewhere I can relax and feel happy, and feel able to get up in the morning.

I know this might seem like the same post as the last long one, and I know I'm talking round in circles, but that's my head for you. If I'm honest, I'm talking shit about some stuff to stop myself from talking shit about other stuff I know is bouncing around in my head, and that ain't doing me no favours either.
But that stuff will have to stay put and shut up for as long as it takes, no choice.

And home will have to stay as home for at least another year, if not two. I got some more choices to make soon, which I'm fed up of making. They're just small choices, they're not the bigger picture, and it fucks me off that they end up being so important. I could be stuck here for another two years if I want enough money to do what I want in the long run and not have to worry so much financially, or I could just stay here one more year and then fuck off, but be poorer.

Oh I don't know, who cares.

Genuine.

If you tell me to go home, I'll ask you exactly where I'm supposed to go.