Notebook geek.

Yes I am an utter notebook notebook/stationary geek, as you should well know by now.

I thought I'd be super cool today and introduce you to my four favourite of the many notebooks waiting to be used, because I really am just, that, cool.
First off, I'm currently using a hardcover pocket ruled Moleskine, and a ruled pocket Moleskine Cahier for my day to day scribbles.

Top left is the Alwych notebook; cute little size, feels perfect in the hand, nice spaced lines on nice thickness paper, and the edges of all the pages are blue. I kind of dont want to use it, because I'll feel like I'm marring it.

Top right is a cheap police style flip top hardcover notebook I picked up from The Range randomly the other week. The pages are a bit rougher than in any of the other ones, and I'm not entirely sure what I'd use it for as I'm used to using normal left spine notebooks. Perhaps I'll use it Australia...although thats kind of what the Ciak and Moleskine's are for.

Bottom left is a pocket SOFTcover ruled Moleskine, which I'm very excited about using, because I'm used to the hardcover Moleys so know more or less what I'm in for. Will be interesting to see how well the softer cover holds up to being bashed around though.

And finally, the Pocket Guildhall notebook. Essentially a version of the Moleskine, but I'm excited about using it anyway. It looks slightly cooler in my opinion, what with the stitching around the edges of the cover, which is slightly softer and slippy-er than the Moleskine's cover. The lines inside are slightly different too, with a top line you can actually use, and nice spacing.

I've also got another one of these on order on its way :)

So yes, notebook geek = me.

:D

A picture of all the important gadgets for Australia ;)



Starting at the top:
I have an iPhone, but am debating whether or not to unlock it before I go so I can put an Australian SIM in it, or to get the Blackberry. The former is the cheaper option, but the latter is the geekiest/gadgetiest.
I also already have my trusty iPod 80gb, but for the next couple of weeks I need to make a start on putting all of my CD's on it, and I can then sell all the CD's on MusicMagpie.com.

The Ciak, Moleskine and Uni Ball Jetstream pens are all sitting happily on my desk, and because I got 3-packs of both types of pen I've been happily using both for my musings, scribbles and every day life. Yes I'm a stationary freak, but these really are gorgeous pens to write with.
The Gameboy Micro I've just paid for on eBay and have been emailed to say it'll be sent out on Monday. Managed to get a good bundle on eBay - the console, cases and 4 games for about £30 - good when you consider there aren't masses of these around and they do tend to go for about £30-£40 anyway.

The Polaroid PoGo is also sitting happily with the journals and pens, along with a few packs of films.
The Freeloader is something I'm borowing from my auntie for the trip, so when we all go up to London in May to pick my sister up from the airport I'll grab that and check we've got all the connections we need and eBay for the ones we're missing.

Now, the camera.
I've been wanting something a bit more substantial, a step up from the point and shoot affairs I've always had, but not as expensive and knowledge-heavy as a DSLR, for a while now and started looking into it a few months back. Now in general, I'm camera thick, but after a lot of research I decided I liked the look of the Fuji bridge cameras, which have massive optical zoom lengths and afford a bit more creativity with more manual controls. I stumbled upon the Fuji S2000HD, which had another draw for me over the other Fuji models in my price range: HD video recording. So I decided I'd go for that one and then I can sell my old camcorder for a (little) extra cash. However, my dad then noticed (on his rifling through the Argos catalogue for his FIRST digital camera, bless) that Argos had listed the Fuji S2500HD, the upgrade to the S2000HD. After yet more research I discovered that Fuji had announced new models, among them the S2500HD, but they weren't yet on sale anywhere. More research yeilded the knowledge that Argos were expecting a delivery of the new model on 17th March. When I saw the S2500HD in the catalogue I knew I didn't want to just go and buy it without looking, so waiting was inevitable, as I'd want to maybe wait and see some of the reviews or at least hold it myself and see if they've made any changes to the body from the S2000HD. I'm hoping they haven't. THEN we found out that the Devon Camera Center is apparently getting them in next weekend!!!! Therefore, next weekend it is :)

Obviously, I don't have an iPad yet. But I will have one. Oh yes. The thinking is (for Oz in particular) that we might need a laptop of some kind while we're over there, if only for storage of photos etc, but any one of our laptops would take up a huge chunk of travel weight, so something smaller is needed. When the iPad appeared, I had my solution. It's light enough and slim enough, and with the camera connection kit we'll be able to free up memory cards left right and center, wherever we are. Plus, it's amazing :)

And the bag? You may remember my interest and consequently my wallets' displeasure in the Saddleback Leather company, and then my later wondrous discovery of a (very) local leather bag maker. I went to visit him, showed him the modifications I wanted after perusing both his website and my imagination, and an agreement was reached. He said it should be ready around about the end of February/beginning of March, so it shouldn't be long now, happily.

Obviously I left off all the little gagets, such as camera memory cards, batteries, cables, chargers and pouches for all said little stuff, etc.

So all I have to do now is wait for deliveries (which reminds me, I ordered a rectractable iPod cable the other week and it's still not here...harumph) and monitor my money. I've enough to buy the camera and have a bit left over, which could be more if my stuff on eBay sells, if I sell the camcorder and Magpie the CD's.

:)

Exciting stuff eh?
(I know you hope that was sarcastic. It wasn't.)

H.x

Journal.

So as you'll well know by now, I've been on the search for the perfect bag, travel journal, and pen for the trip to Oz...yes I know it's in 6 months time but haven't you ever heard of forward planning?

Now, as far as the bag goes, I may have made progress! It turns out there is a leather maker in my very city, not 10 minutes away, who's online catalogue does have some bags in similar styles to the Saddleback Leather Briefcase, and considerably cheaper. He also apparently does do custom made bags, whether its just tweaking one of his existing bags or trying to make one to order. You can check out the link here. I've just been down there this afternoon, drove me and my dad and didnt kill either of us, but unfortunately his workshop was closed. Apparently he doesnt work weekends so I'm going to try going back in on Tuesday I think. I've got plenty of print outs and drawings and sketches of what I want, so I'm hoping he can help me out. In terms of price, the SBL bag was about £350 + P&P from America; this guys bags are about £115. Brilliant :)

As for the travel journal and pen, well...I'm very happy :)

Originally I thought the Midori Travel Journal was on the button, but after closer inspection I'm thinking not. It's not the right shape, too tall and while the refill system is very cool, its not what I'm looking for specifically for Australia.
Now some of you might know I'm a fan of the Moleskine notebooks, and have about 5 waiting for me, but again as with the Midori, I dont think they'll be as suited for what I have in mind for Australia. For starters, I'm looking for something softback, and I've already got hardback ones and dont fancy shelling out for a Softback Moleskine when I'm pretty sure its not right. Secondly, from what I've read online, I'm not sure how well it will lie flat.
I've also been looking at the Cartesio but think its a bit too Moleskine-ish for my requirements. Basically I've been reading through the Black Cover notepad review blog for inspiration, so take a look.

Then after much perusing, I discovered the Ciak. The review is promising, and I have found a site that sells them here, even 3 for 2! AND even more excitingly (cough) they actually do a specific travel journal, though its only in the medium size and part of me is leaning more towards the large. But the EXTRA special good news is that I suddenly remembered while reading some comments, that Paperchase at least used to have that very notebook. So after college yesterday I popped in, and they had ONE, single, solitary, lonely Ciak Travel Journal in red! It was perfect! It was the sample they'd had, and while the rest of the travel journals had sold, no one wanted the bashed sample one. I was the opposite! I'd been looking at the red one anyway, so I had to ask how much they'd knock off considering it was the only one left and the sample at that. Originally, the manager said she could give me 10% off... from £10.50. I was hesitant. She then offered me 15% off. And then, out of nowhere, while we were just talking and she was seeing if there were any other notebooks that were suited to what I wanted, she just said "Oh you know what, I'll give it to you for half price. It's been sitting there on its own for ages and no one else wants it, and you do, so I'll give you half price." Brilliant. £5.50 in the end, means I got the medium Ciak Travel Journal for less than they were selling the pocket version! And I couldn't be happier it with it. It's got the standard first page for information, but with more travel-specific details such as Passport Number and Drivers License. Then there's an itinerary page, and a world map, which is perfect for me because I can draw in the flight paths we take :) Then you've got the usual pages of distances, and units of measurement and such like, then finally a check list before the journal proper. And what a joy it is... the paper is so smooth and soft, and though I cant bring myself to write on it just yet, I'm confident it will be a joy to write on. It comes with alternating blank and lined pages which is perfect for sticking photos on and writing notes. It doesn't fully lie flat, which is perhaps the only downside, but other than ring bound notebooks I havent used many notebooks that do lie sufficiently flat, and its not as if I'm going to be using this in a situation where I've only got one hand.

As you can see from these pictures, one great thing about it is that the elastic band is horizontal, not vertical like the Moleskine, which is perfect for holding a pen and keeping loose papers and such like inside. Its also slightly bigger than the pocket Moleskines I'm used to, yet still a really nice size to hold. It really does feel nice in my hand :) the soft faut-leather cover is smooth and supple with enough flexibility. I'm not bothered about the fact it looks bashed, because it was only going to get that way anyway. In some respects, if I'd bought one new I'd be too worried about bashing it, because I'm odd like that. So it suits me down to the ground. I'm not brilliantly keen on the lines in it, they dont go all the way to the edge and there's a top margin which seems a bit pointless, so I'm debating whether or not to bother getting one for my next notebook, but for this use, I love it.

As for the pen, well its there in the pictures. After we went to Paperchase, dad needed to go to the LCE for some new binoculars (£300 but he gets a free pair of compact ones worth £150?!?! Mine!), and then I persuaded him to let us go in Rymans. I spent about 10 minutes trying pens before I found the Uni-Ball Jetstream SX-210 1.0 pen, also known now by me as the perfect pen.
It's gorgeous. The barrel shape is brilliant and the pen feels evenly weighted when you write with it. The only flaws are that the rubber grip is probably not rubbery enough, and there's a plastic ridge right where I hold it, but nothing major. It really is ridiculously comfortable to write with, and this coming from someone who hasnt had to hand write anything much for months, so anytime I do my hand aches after about 2 minutes. But not with this pen. The ink is a very dark black, not like some of these 'black' pens that come out grey, and you dont have to apply much pressure to get an even line. I think its technically a rollerball, but it looks and feels more like a gel ink to write with, its that smooth and flowing. Apparently the ink is meant to me fade resistant and waterproof too.

All in all, after a good days driving today too, despite HTLeather not being open, I'm feeling rather contented today. Some of the things I'm selling are in the paper now and I'm hoping we do get some interest, as I need the money.

So yes, happy. Cold, very very cold, but happy.
And to top it all off, I'm going to see Jon Richardson and Shappi Khorsandi at the Exeter Northcott tonight!!!

H.x

EDIT: Another advantage of the Uni Ball SX-210's likeness to a gel ink is that it gives you the smoothness and darkness of a gel ink, with the durability of a biro/ballpoint eg it wont bleed through paper at all!

Australian wantings, now with pictures :)

So as you know, in 6 months time my parents and I are going to Australia to visit my sister and see the huge land mass :D
Almost as soon as the flights were booked, after being home less than 5 minutes, I was already diving into eBay and Amazon etc and my imagination was playing havoc with my empty wallet.

So basically, this is the list of all the things my tiny, tiny mind is telling me I would love to take to Australia with me :)

• Leather bag.
Seen some really nice ones online, I'm thinking over-the-shoulder, darkish leather, kind of rustic distressed look with room enough for all this other stuff. It needs to have lots of little pockets, but not too many. The perfect amount. Unfortunately, leather costs. Even more unfortunately, the bag in my mind clearly doesn't exist; unless you count the Saddleback Leather Briefcase, left, which costs about £350.

• Digital Camera.

Well my Casio Exilim EX-Z1080 10mpx camera is less than 6 months old and works a charm so I'm happy with that :) Love this bad boy. I'm no photography pro but this takes a sweet picture. Might need spare batteries and memory cards though.

• Laptop/netbook.

Of course, I already have a laptop. In fact, I own two. The three of us in total own 4 laptops between us so you wouldn't think it'd be a problem, right? Well, you're right and you're wrong. First off, size wise my MacBook is probably best suited to the journey, but as it's the older white MacBook it's not exactly feather-light. So weight wise, dads would be best suited, and in terms of price his is the cheapest too so if anything were to happen to it, it's the easiest to replace. However, my inclination, in a perfect world (and this is just my Australia Wanting remember), would be to buy a cheap, possibly second hand from eBay, basic netbook thing to take with us and then sell when we get back. But then we all sit and think, well, do we really need to take one at all? Mum says yes: she can barely go one week without checking her facebook let alone 7! So it requires thinking. Ouch.

• Polaroid camera - One600? SX-70?

Had a real craving for one of these for SO long now. There's something about the charm of those photos, and the simplicity of taking them. Plus, the photos are great for what I have in mind by way of a travel journal (more on that later.) Been looking at two models; the One600 which was the last mass produced Polaroid camera, therefore a bit more modern and sturdy/portable/less fragile, or; the SX-70, a very early model (not sure how early) that's apparently quite sought after but there's a few of on eBay.

• Polaroid PoGo.

Basically the modern reincarnation of the Polaroid cameras of old. Can't be bothered to link you but google it, it's amazing. Size of an iPhone, prints photos in 60seconds, doesn't use ink, (ZINK technology) and the films are self adhesive on the back, yet another advantage for my Aussy photo journalling needs. Around £100 new, Amazon marketplace has them for £22.51 :D especially appealling seeing as the technically superior Fujifilm Pivi is an £100+ import.

• Video camera.

Technically yes, I already have one, and though there's nothing wrong with it, it's so out of date already. I'd love to be able to capture Australia in all it's HD glory, rather than on the one I've got which is slightly grainy looking now. Sanyo VHC-FH1 HD looks good, and £350 on Amazon, but definately needs more looking into.

• iPod :)

OBVIOUSLY. Two lots of 12hr plane rides just to get down under, not to mention the other 6hr flights across Oz, the 2 day Ghan train and the same two 12hr flights home! Not that my parents are so boring I'm going to want to constantly drown them out, but y'know, fair's fair. Does mean I may possibly need to invest in some superior headphones, but in that long run that'd just seem a waste of money.

• Moblie phone.
Yes I have an iPhone, but no I won't be able to use it out there: A) I'll have upgraded to the 3GS by then and B) it'll only be a few months old so there's no way I'm jailbreaking it, and most importantly C) there is no way in HELL I'm paying O2's international roaming charges for 7weeks, especially not when I'll be texting mostly within Oz. We're going to buy Australian SIM cards over there, but obviously although mum and dad will be able to use their own phones fine, my iPhone and I will fail. Hence, I am also looking at Blackberry's on eBay. Plus I want a Blackberry as well as my iPhone anyway :P Specifically the Curve 8900, cos its hot :D

• And last but by no means least: Travel journal.
Some of you may know of my love of Moleskine notebooks and my general borderline-creepy love of all things stationary, but perhaps not of my love of the idea of photo journalling. I say the idea because as of yet my past attempts have ended up being rather neglected. There's an awesome blog at moleskine.vox by this guy who is a creative genius in my eyes when it comes to stationary and journalling. It's not even especially obvious, or even intentional perhaps, but to me there is something so innately and intrinsically cool and artistic about the perfect notebook and pens and such like. Even his handwriting is amazing to me. And he's SO organized! It makes me and my flittish, haphazard ways a little jealous actually. Anyway, partially from his own work and partially from a magazine he talked about and scanned in, I was inspired into trying again when I go to Australia. It'll be the perfect opportunity; sun, sea, sand, Aires Rock, Palm Beach, NEIGHBOURS :D. I can snap away on my digital camera at scenic sweeping outback, Polaroid pwn the Sydney Opera House, and then when we stop at a cafe for lunch or something, I can PoGo my pictures and stick it all in. I can cover the page with glue, grab a handful or sand and take some of the outback home with me. I can really keep track of this once in a lifetime opportunity (that I actually do hope to repeat but still, I'm more likely to keep on top of it on holiday with my parents than travelling with friends in years to come.) Napkins from restaurants will no doubt go in there, cards from hotels we stay at, etc etc. I really want to remember it. Of course, I'll have to be careful not to spend so much time travel journalling that I miss out on anything actually worth journalling. Same goes for filming, though mum seems to want me to film every minute of it.
Now, as any self respecting person will know (:P) the perfect journal needs the perfect pen. And glues. And pencils for sketches. And more pens in case the other pen runs out. And a perfect pencil case for all of the above. So for the next 6 months I will be on the hunt for my perfect travel journal and stationary. I can't wait :)

So that's my ideal Australia wish list, and at the moment it is very much a wish list; with me myself earning no money and anything my parents earn now basically going into the Oz trip, there are a hell of a lot of if's and but's. Firstly I'm going to try and get a job soon hopefully, if I can actually do it. If I cant yet, I suppose there's always my savings if I'm simply overcome with desire for some items, and I can pay myself back when I do get a job as it were. As I say; if's, but's and even a fair few maybe's in there too!
Plus, I've got plenty of shit I can sell.

So there you have it. One long, approximately £800 long list.

If anyone can help me out with any of the items in any way, do please let me know! :D

H.x

Too much.

Evening all.
Firstly I would like to say, before I get started on the meat of this post, a big thank you to all those people on Twitter who have been amazingly kind and supportive to me over the past month or so. It really hasn't been an easy time for me, but some of you in particular have been absolutely amazing.
I would also like to apologise to those same people on Twitter, and any other followers, who have had to put up with my erratic tweeting/moaning/general misery over said month. Once more, thank you.

So, it's been a while.
My last post was before the trial began, and also mentioned how L had said something that lead me to believe she had feelings for me.
First things first; the trial. It didn't exactly get off to a great start, thanks to the fuck-up that calls itself an 'organisation' (what a joke-as my auntie put it; "they couldn't organise a bunk up in a brothel) - the CPS. Long story short the trial either had to start from scratch with a new judge the next day, or wait until next fucking March; guess which option we went for? It was exhausting. Every day I geared myself up for the fact that I could be called any minute, and for the irate two days; nothing. I tell you, sitting around doing shit all in that environment really takes its toll. Eventually, on the Friday (when the trial was due to end, fat chance) I gave my evidence. I can't really explain how it felt, to have to stand up there and be cross examined. I'd told myself I wasn't going to cry, but I ended up in floods of tears. To stand up there, having to remember what happened that night, what he did to me, what he made me do to him, in front of everyone, and to be basically accused of lying by the defence barrister...there are no words. I felt...exposed. So entirely vulnerable, like my heart was being ripped out and my soul, my character, was out for all to see and examine. I practically broke down at one point. I'd been told I could stop at any point for a break, but I knew that if I left that room I wouldn't want to go back in. So I stood my ground, and told my side. At times I felt anger; anger that I had to remember that night, anger at the things this woman (the defence barrister) was implying, anger at the man who I thankfully couldn't see but knew was standing so close. Fury, at times, threatened to overwhelm me, but I knew I could not break, would not break. Besides the fact that getting angry and 'smart' with the defence wouldn't help at all, I just knew I could not let myself be broken like that. So instead, I spoke through gritted teeth when needed and through tears when I couldn't fight them anymore. When it was over, and I was dismissed, I felt drained. I cried and cried and cried. My SOLO, R, who was nothing short of amazing, a rock to me, throughout, had been allowed to sit behind me while I spoke, so was instantly on hand to get me out of there. We left and my parents enveloped me. We all cried. Then the court broke for a short while, and after that, L was up to give her evidence. I was outside having a cigarette and she came out 5minutes later. Neither of us were sure if we were now allowed to talk to each other. That moment then, me sitting there, her standing there, just looking at each other, me wanting to badly to just hug her, was horrendous. Finally we were told, yes, it's ok now, and I didn't want to let go. Having been through something all too similar years ago, I knew the process wouldn't have been fun for her, all the more considering her hints of feelings for me. To sum up the next period of time, I went to my brothers with him and stayed there til all my friends who were giving evidence had finished and then came round to his too. Eventually, the court day ended and we could all be together. That night L and I spoke properly, but that's for later.
When court broke for the weekend, and indeed, right up until the verdict, it all seemed to be going well. Our barrister seemed confident, and even the judge seemed to be leaning towards favouring the prosecution.
But it was all for nothing.
"They found the bastard innocent."
Those were the words my father said, and then he started crying. The moment he came in the room, the verdict was written all over his face, the pain, the anger, and the sorrow. My mother was crying, my brother was crying, my SOLO was crying, and L had gone outside to cry. I didn't. I couldn't. I just felt numb. It wasn't for a few more minutes that it swallowed me, but even then it wasn't sadness. It was anger. That fury, that rage that had held its hand over me while I stood in court, slammed down on me. But I had to reign it in. I don't think damaging court property and premises would have been a good way to end things. I needed to get out of there. Nobody knew what to say. I certainly didn't. Over the next few hours, when I had presumed I would go into 'shut down', I found myself able to claw my way out for breath. I would not close down. We went home, and over the next few hours gradually more and more people came to see me and say how sorry they were. There wasn't much I could say. At least it's over.
Even now, I'm not 100% sure how I feel. Angry? Yes. Sad? Yes. Relieved? Oddly, yes. At least it's over.
The system let me down.
Everyone, the police, the barrister, all my support workers, even the judge knew the right verdict, but the truth is, with rape cases, convictions are hard to get. At the moment the figures show that in rape cases, the prosecution level stands at 6 per cent. 6 PER CENT. Women are encouraged to come forward and report this abominable crime, but for what? For the hell of reliving it in a public arena, being called a liar, watching the hell their family goes through as they learn the details? The system is quite frankly BULLSHIT. That man's fate was in the hands of people who have no idea of the torment, the pain, the agony of living as a victim of rape, and they set him free, because there were doubts. I fully appreciate that the jury system may save countless innocent people from prison, but it's plain to see that it is riddled with failings. At the backs of the minds of every one of those jurors was the real possibility of sending a man to prison. How can you claim that would not have had an effect? Strangers cannot be impartial. Maybe there isn't a clear solution, but when only 6 per cent of these evil men are convicted, how can anyone say our justice system works? This 'justice' system hasn't only failed me, and rendered me scared to leave my house in the knowledge that he is still allowed to walk around, free and innocent in the eyes of the law, but it has failed hundreds of women, and will fail countless more. It makes me furious, it breaks my heart that anyone who goes through what I went through, which wasn't even as vicious as this crime can be, have such a small hope of justice. I am now supposed to move on with my life, build a future, but how? Everyone told me how I was right to take it to the police, that I was so brave to take it to court when so many wouldn't, but would I have simply saved myself the pain of those words: not guilty? Would it not be better for women everywhere to exact their own brand of justice on those bastards by having extensive counselling and building happy, successful lives? Of course it would, but it's not that easy. How easy would you find it if, as in my case, your virginity was ripped from you? That act of love, of giving yourself to someone so completely, with so much trust, that you had always warned the chance to give, was stolen from you? How easily could you move on, even if the bastard was incarcerated, let alone if he was allowed to walk away scot free? The justice system is a failure. Men who steal are convicted. Men who rape are not. Rape is stealing a woman’s right, rape is an evil act. The cunt who ruined me apparently considers rape to be 'when the man is violent and beats the woman up and stuff', according to his evidence. Is that not what rape will mean to too many more? The justice system FAILS US.
And I am lost for words.
What more can I say? What more can any one person do? One person who can't even leave the house and go into her local town centre because she knows HE lives nearby! Some small mercy, some small, small solace could, I suppose be found in that fact that his name was published, his address, his details. Anyone who reads the local paper and has the slightest bit of self respect wouldn't go near him. He will be the one who people know was accused, and I can only hope that others can see the truth, even if the court couldn't. I hold onto the conversation overhead by my mother in a local shop - on a day when the headline in the local paper read 'WOMEN WARNED AFTER TWO SEX ATTACKS IN TWO DAYS' my mother heard one woman say to another as they perused the headline; "well it's like that bloke who lives round here, they found him innocent but he was guilty as sin".
Small mercies, small hopes.
6 percent. Gone.

So now I have to move forwards.

My attempts to continue an education I desperately want but am unable to pursue in the full time manner due to previously mentioned inability to leave the house without feeling terrified, and my crippling body hang ups thanks to the weight that has piled on with the depression, have also been scuppered. The local college, that I did attend until it became impossible for me to do so, have the monopoly on local A Level evening classes...which you can only complete if you're aged 19 or over. What a joke. But I won't start on that now. Suffice to say we are battling on this one.

Battling. Constantly.
But there's one more battle that will not be fought anymore.
As some of you will know, over the last few months my grandmother has been in and out of hospital with various problems, and has been really very ill. As of last week, she had accepted she would not be able to return to her own home, and faced losing her leg. Then she lost the use of one of her hands. Then her kidneys packed in. Then she lost blood flow to her foot. Then the infection in her leg started spreading throughout the rest of her body. Then it was realised, that it simply wasn't fair to let her keep fighting, and in so much pain. The doctors and my family agreed it was best for her to simply make her comfortable. And then yesterday, she slipped away from us.
Fortunately, we all got to say goodbye. Mum, dad, brother and I all went to see her the day before. At that point she did still seem to know us. I sat with her, on my own as I had wanted, not knowing what to say. Seeing her like that...that wasn't my Nan lying there. That was an old woman, so small, and old. I held her hand, and she gripped so hard. I told her I love her, and would miss her, and would never forget her. I told her that I would always remember her whenever I eat Semolina and Ginger Nut biscuits, and said "na-night nanny nicely, bye nanny properly" for that last time, though I didn't know it. She wasn't fully with it, and kept saying "must be quick, must be quick", but when I said "I love you" she opened her eyes, looked at me and said "I love you too." When I left the room I turned and looked at her, and her arm was still stretching out to where I had just been sat. I'm crying now as I write this, and remember the last time I saw her alive. None of us actually thought she would go so fast, so it was still a bit of a shock. When mum and dad walked through the door while I was drying the dishes and L came down the stairs after her shower, I knew there was no other reason they would both be here, home at this time. It broke my heart seeing my dad like that. He cried on my shoulder, but I couldn't cry. I just felt so utterly numb. I think I barely blinked for the next few hours. I've never lost a relative before; I still don't know if I'm grieving right. When I was younger, my Nan was such a big part of my life. I'd spend weekends with her, go out on day trips with her, and spend New Years with her when my parents wanted to see their friends. I will hold so many good memories of her, but sadly, also many bad ones. I can't fully yet banish the images of her over the last few years, each time she was in hospital, each time she got ill again. I've never thought of her as old, but at 85, she had lived such a long life. A fighter through and through was my Nan, surviving wars, heart attacks, a stroke, cancer, nervous breakdowns...but she couldn't win every fight. She couldn't beat time. I still can't believe she's gone. Until now, I haven't cried much, I don't know why, but believe me I'm crying now. I'm going to miss her so much. She can't be gone. My Nan, the invincible woman, how can she be gone? My dad is being so amazing, he's lost his mother but he's staying as strong as he can. Sure, I've seen him cry more this past year that in all the rest of my life put together, but he's the strongest man I know. My sister, who's living in Australia, got to say goodbye to Nan when we did, albeit over the phone. Nan knew who she was talking to. She was so proud of my sister, so proud. I only recently found out that the last thing my Nan said to my sister before she moved away was "if you're going for 3 years I expect I'll never see you again." My sister really wanted to come home the day she said goodbye to Nan, but she's now decided to stay out there, which we all agree is the right thing for her to do. All this does make me miss my sister, which I haven't really done for a while. It's hard that he doesn't know everything that's gone on this year, but it's the right thing in the circumstances.

So as it stands, Nan’s funeral will be this Tuesday coming. I've never been to a funeral before, and in a way I think I hoped I never would. I don't want to have to say goodbye. But my Nan will live forever, where it really matters; in our hearts.

I'll always love you Nan, and I miss you more than words can say. I hope you're as proud of me as I am of you, proud I had you in my life, proud that I had you as my Nan. You will be my inspiration, to keep fighting, to keep living as I want to. I will not let this beat me, I will not. You never did. No matter what life did, you held your head high and carried on. You loved your boys, you loved their wives and you loved us, their children. You loved so much, and I will miss you so, so much. We all will. You kept fighting. Right til the very end when you still kept trying to take those bandages off! I will make you proud. I will. I love you Nan. I miss you. Please stay with me. Please help me live as you lived- with love and kindness, as I knew you. Na-night nanny nicely, goodbye nanny properly. You will NEVER be forgotten.

You can't see how much I'm crying right now. But I think I needed that. Writing that, and crying now, I need to cry. I haven't done enough of it recently really. Mum keeps telling me it's ok to cry, and I know it is, but I'm always afraid I won't be able to stop. This year has been, without a shadow of a doubt, the worst of my life. I won't be sorry to see the back of it...but I think I'll stay at home this New Year.

As for things with L...well...!
I feel tired and worn out now but I know how therapeutic writing is for me, and I know if I don't do this now I never will.
Basically, on the Saturday before the trial I think it was, L sent me a text that said something like "I love you more than you realise" so I replied with "Are you trying to tell me something?"
To be honest, I was mainly joking! I didn't think she would reply with "Well yes I am, but it's not the right time to tell you are it?” In the lead up to the trial, we didn't talk much about it, but apparently it was obvious to my SOLO and the other police officer in charge that something was going on! After Friday, L came home with us and stayed the night. I think we were all feeling on a bit of a strange high, I know I was. Having done my bit, I felt like a huge weight had been lifted, and we all relaxed with a few drinks. When we went up to bed conversation eventually came to what had been said in the texts the other night. Long story short (ha! I hear you cry!) she told me that she had feelings for me and wanted more than just friendship and I said I wasn't sure how I felt, but that I know I love her and she's my best friend and I don't ever want to lose her. The weekend was...interesting. There was a new level to our friendship that we both had to get used to, but it was nice. Flirtier jokes and comments, and texts between us that sometimes shocked me and made me grin a little at the same time. But it was nice. And after the trial, I came to realise that I did feel the same for her. I would be lying if I said that when I first met her I didn't find her attractive, but as I knew she had a boyfriend I pushed any feelings like that aside if ever they came up. She truly became my best friend, and life would seriously have been shit without her.
But then, after the verdict, things seemed to change.
I know it wasn't easy for her either, and she sat in for his evidence which undoubtedly brought back a lot of unpleasant memories. She went away the next weekend as she had already planned, for a friend’s house warming party, and when she left things didn't feel right. She said she needed some time to think and we'd talk when she got back. Only we didn't. And then she had to go back up to Essex to see him again. And then her closest brother was rushed into hospital, where, as far as I know as she isn't telling me much, he still is. There's also the matter of P, her brothers best friend who she had a thing with a while back, is really close to and is completely in love with her. And basically, it would seem she doesn't know how she feels. He knows about how she says she feels for me, and he was more than a little shocked apparently. Other than him, no one else knows. I just don't know what to do. She's obviously been spending a lot of time with P recently because of her brother, but it's hard. I'm trying to be understanding, and be there for her, but when she doesn't tell me what's going on and when she doesn’t talk to me, it's hard to know what to do. She keeps saying there's a couple of things she's wants to say to me but she also doesn't want to, and that if I push her she won't say anything. I also now know she spent the night with P last night, and whilst she says nothing happened, that he was just there to talk about her brother and then they had a fair few drinks and he just ended up staying, and while I believe her, I'm just struggling. They have a lot of history that I know about, and whilst she says she loves me and misses me when she's not with me, when she's on the phone to him or texting him I find it hard to even be in the same room. I haven't spoken to her about it, because with everything going on in both our lives I don't want to upset the balance, but I just don't know how much more I can take. I don't know what's going on between us, between her and P, I don't know how her brother is, and she won't talk to me. She's says she knows she can talk to me about anything and that I'm one of the few people she trusts, but then seems to be holding so much back from me. I don't think it’s just 'jealousy' but I don't know what to do. Blame it on my star sign Taurus or whatever, but when I fall for someone I fall hard. This is only the second time I've ever felt like this, and the other girl I badly fell in love with decided to cut me out of her life when she found out I liked her. I so don't want to lose L, but I don't know what to so.

Things are just stacking up again. When the trial ended, other than the feelings I had over the verdict, I also felt relieved it was over. But now, I think I'm not dealing with it as well as I thought, and now Nan’s gone and the situation with L is getting unbearably painful for me and with everything else, I'm just starting to feel overwhelmed again. I've already regrettably reverted to 'old habits' as it were once and I just don't know what I'm doing most of the time. I can't switch off, can't relax, can't breathe, can't sleep brilliantly again, despite this glorious new bed. Most days I'm walking round with my head working a mile a minute and freaking out. Mainly about L if I'm honest. I'm just worrying about everything. I don't think my medication is helping massively at the moment, and my psych nurse was planning to change my medication soon so I'm worrying about that too!
Part of me just wants to get fucked hammered and pass out, part of me wants to go and smash things, part of me wants to curl up in a ball and die, part of me wants to scream and shout and cry, but no one part of me can decide what I actually AM going to do.

So right now I'm lying awake crying, worried about L because she was going home tonight to meet with her brothers doctor to discuss his situation and I haven't heard from her, worried about mum and dad, worried about how my brother's coping with Nan being gone, worried about my sister on her own on the other side of the fucking world and wondering what the hell the last 3 months of this shitty year are going to throw at me now.

But other than all of that, everything is rosy in this Finch's garden.

Time to get some sleep now I think. Apologies for the length of this post again, as you can see a lot has been going on since my last post so it was sort of necessary. Thank you once more for your support. I just hope it can be enough.

H.x

Synapse.

This is where I wish I'm not as tired as I am. Sitting in the car on the way to London via Longleat, and my synapses are firing. Ideas and images and words and conversations being flung around. This is where I wish I hadn't put my laptops in the boot rather than in the back with me. Hundreds of ideas, for books, stories. Just words, phrases, snippets. All like gold dust to me.

Script.

Just thinking about how I want to get writing some scripts again, but I can't think of any stories. Even if I could, I don't feel like I've got the time! I've got driving lessons and tomorrow I'm going to see Ice Age 3 with a friend then I've got to go and see another friend in hospital, then I've got more driving lessons and shopping with dad and doing other stuff and at some point I need to sleep! God knows when that'll be though. Well hopefully I'll get writing some scripts at some point soon, there's ideas buzzing round my head but at the moment they're so vague they barely exist, if that makes sense?

I've also been reading back some of the stuff in my moleskine (my verse) and can't help thinking how bloody crapping awful it is. I used to read my stuff back and like it, used to think it was good but now it all seems a bit...shit. I don't like that. Think I'll spend some time over the weekend writing, if I can separate myself from the parents and get some time on my own. Call it homework if you will. But hopefully I'll enjoy it. Think I need to get reading some more poetry/verse to help me write stuff. As I've been reading more novels and watching more films I've felt more of a pang of want for writing books and scripts, so maybe that's the way forwards. Or at least a step in the right direction.

A 'poem'.

For some reason this evening, I felt like sharing (for the first time on blogger) a 'poem' of mine. I put the word poem in inverted comma's because I always feel there is a stigma attached to the word and though I'm unsure why, I don't like using that word to describe what I do. But that is what I do so tough luck for me I suppose.

This 'poem' was the first thing I wrote after the events of NY'sE, and it took me quite a while to work up the courage to post it on my livejournal, but after I did it seemed to be fairly well received, so now after the weeks/months I've spent jabbering on at you lovely lot over here, I though I'd test the waters concerning my 'poetry'. So here you are. Feel free/please leaves comments letting me know what you think, when it comes to my 'poetry' my favourite bit is the feedback.

EDIT: If this seems to be received well, I have many more to share, including some personal favourites.



Untitled

Curled up under a tree
next to a lily pond;
wish away the hours gone,
stolen
by a claw with one finger.

Breath in the green
of the silken, shattered fronds
and feel them shudder
in the lungs.

Rest easier in the arms of oak
and grass,
a plentiful safe house
of nature and nurturing tongues;
no evil, no fear.

Pass time with passing insects
always feared before
now not so much.

Not so much as the claw
with poison dripping
and bastard strength, poised
to steal from anyone
without thought.

A bag of barrels
hidden under a bushel, ne'er
disturbed.

You're disturbed,
you bastard.

You've peturbed, left me
is all I can fathom.

Talking to words.

Yet again I am not asleep and it's tomorrow. Today. Whatever. Yesterday was not as good a day as I'd hoped, as it seems that my tutor will have to know what happened at NY's and thus all my lecturers will be made aware of the fact I am under pressure. Not really sure how I feel about this, as on the one hand it means that I'll be able to get support when I need, but on the other hand, I wanted to be strong enough to get through this alone. I guess I have to realise that might not be possible, and that that's okay.

On the subject of writing, things seem to be slowly, slowly starting to move. I'm starting to get little phrases pop into my head again, true, not anywhere bear as often or as good as before, but they're there. This may explain some of my more seemingly random Tweets, as I've taken to Tweeting them so then I don't forget them, and they're somewhere I can find them. In terms of the essays however, progress is a little slower unfortunately; still haven't written a word for most of them.

After another 'funny turn' yesterday/today, and plenty of napping, I'm now more than ready to sleep. Will post more tomorrow.


iPhone post

Day.

By my logic you've already had your photo for today, so you can go whistle if you think this post is going to contain anything for you to look at. I'm up and livejournal-ing again as of...the other day or somewhen, have posted some actual 'poetry' today, not too pleased with it but something told me that I just need to start posting again, maybe then things will start coming back to me. Since I started this blog, I've been debating whether or not to cross-post any of my 'poetic' offerings here as well as over on lj, and I'm now thinking that once I get going I will probably bring a few over here too.

Still not really had any luck breaking the writers block today, and it is starting to get me down. I have two quite important deadlines that have already been extended, and are looming once more and now I'm so afraid I won't meet them and I'll end up having to repeat this year at college. But I am trying to remain positive and focused, trying to not let this beat me.

Tomorrow I am off to a UCAS event, where hundreds of Universities will be displaying their wares and attempting to seduce me with their prospecti...I'm kind of nervous about it, because, as I have mentioned in previous posts, I'm feeling more than a little unsure of my future at this stage in my life, and tomorrow will either reinforce that insecurity, or cure it. I know which one I'm hopnig for.

The only thing.

Why has this happened? I'm a writer, first and foremost through everything I've ever done, I've always felt that I'm a writer. And now I can't write. I can't read. Nothing. I look at words and I can't concentrate, I forget words as soon as I've read them. What's happening to me? Why am I losing all I've ever loved? Why did what he did to me have to hurt this? Damage this? The one thing I've always had, that I wanted to do forever, and now I can't do it. Maybe it is temporary, but I'm just so scared. I'm weak. I don't know how I'm supposed to get this back. This is my life, and I'm losing it.

I'm becoming stupid.

Brick wall - meet my head; it would like to smack itself repeatedly against your hard grainy surface for a while, if you wouldn't mind?

The problem is this; I used to be clever. I used to be able to write at short notice. If I had an essay that I'd left to the last minute eg the day before (as is usually the case) I used to be able to whack one out (an essay that is) the night before, that would still be of a better standard than that of fellow classmates who'd have spent weeks on the thing. This isn't me bragging, this is just stating fact. Now, however, it seems to be a very different story.

I have 2 essays that need to be handed in tomorrow - not first drafts, not second drafts; the final things. One has to be a short story or extract from a short story equally 1500-1700 words, based on or inspired by the story or style of another authors book. The second is an accompanying 750-800 analysis of said short story, discussing why I have used the style I have, what inspired this what inspired this and so on.

Now, the short story I wrote months ago. Last year, I think it was. Before I'd finished the last essay for this subject. The only problem was that it was 3000 words; twice as long as it needs to be. I therefore had about 2 months to choose the best parts of the story and write an analysis on it. The problem now is part of my bigger problem.

A) I have read no book that could possibly have inspired this tale, and cannot find, buy and read one in 5 minutes. B) I physically cannot write anything. I had decided a better plan at this short notice would be to just write a new story based on a book I know better and an analysis off the back of that, but now I cannot find a book I feel I know well enough, and the three books I've found to 'choose from' are yeilding no inspiration whatsoever.

This is my future here. My AS English Language level is literally being washed down the drain before my very eyes, and I feel utterly powerless to stop it. I didn't think it would ever come to this. Complete and utter writers block that I really am scared I won't be able to get past. I'm failing, and it scares me. This is what I love isnt it? Writing? Where did the optimism of yesterday go? Confronted with the actual necessity to write something, I freeze. I am frozen in a state of mind where nothing is possible, and everything is falling away.

This is not me. At least, it shouldn't be.
I guess I'm not as strong as I thought I was.

Source of life.

This is dedication for you; despite needing to write approx. 2250 words in about 3 hours of an A grade quality to be handed in tomorrow, I am still blogging. Actually, this isn't so much dedication as me desperately trying to find something else to do other than what I should actually be doing. But lets not be picky here.

Rather aptly, today's photo is of my macbook; apt because I am constantly glued to it these days. As we speak I am trying to write those previously mentioned 2250 words, and once I've got those done I'll have to get started on another 1500, and after those anther 100, and then...well, you get the pattern of my life at the moment.

My macbook is probably my most beloved possession (rivalling only my cuddly toy monkey and my iPhone), and I use it everyday for everything. I am a self confessed internet addict - I literally go a little nutty if I can't get access for a few days - camping in low signal areas will just not do - so I have to check/modify/post to my emails/facebook/livejournal/blogger/twitter/hotmail/flickr/various other internet time-stealers every day. I also record music, edit photos, edit films and much more, so my macbook literally is my life force most of the time. I don't know how I managed without it (and of course my 320gb portable hard drive), and could not do so in the future.

Of course, my macbook is also my creative center in terms of writing; apart from the obvious access to lj and blogger, I have folders upon folders of half-written novels, abandoned plays, and to-be-re-worked poetry. If my macbook were to be stolen or broken, I would break every finger of the person responsible. Therein lies an important lesson with me; my macbook reigns supreme - watch your step. Or something like that anyway.

Now I have essays to write.

I did it. I actually did it.

I broke the silence. I've broken down the wall. I'm fighting back. However you want to put it, what it means is this; I have posted on livejournal again. True, this first post is not poetry, it is an explanation of sorts, but that doesn't matter because I now know I can do it. The rest will come now, I'm sure. At least I hope it will. The post there ran thus, and will go someway to explaining to you followers here too;

Deep down I've been ready for a while now, but something was holding me back. If I'm honest, I expected some kind of full on epiphany before I felt I was ready, before I made this move, but that's just not the case. Somehow, somewhy, this feels right tonight.
Over the past few days I've had conversations I've needed to have, and admitted things, things I'm scared of, things I'm feeling. One of the things I admitted, was that I was scared that what happened would cause me to lose my one true love, my first love; writing. Ever since I learnt how, I've written; short stories, poems, essays, novels, plays, movies. I've revelled in sentence structures, assonance, consonance, sounds and rhythms, patterns and so on; I’ve pored over essays, writing and re-writing, drafting and re-drafting them. And then, a few years ago, I fell deeply in love with poetry. My first attempts, young, simple and naive were, quite frankly, terrible, but then about 5 or 6 years ago I fell into a depression. It is only now being diagnosed. I think I’ve known all along. This depression however, seems to have spawned one good thing; my writing. Well, at least from my point of view the writing from recent years seems less like a 12 year old moaning about how cruel their parents are, and from the feedback I’ve had from others, it feels like I might be good at what I love. So, over the past two years I threw myself into writing. Over the past year, I’ve thrown myself and my writing on you lot on livejournal. Over the past 3 months, I’ve retreated. It’s clear to me why.
All I will say is this; something happened to me in the early hours of New Year’s Day, 2009 – something that I would not wish on my worst enemy – and I have been struggling since. For the first month afterwards I threw myself back into ‘normality’, which possibly in my case was not the best thing to do. In recent months, I have found myself spiralling further back into a depression I never even clambered out from, and struggled to cope.
Part of why I feel ready now is that after the conversations I had just two nights ago, I have decided that I am not going to let anyone destroy me, apart from me. The only person who I am going to let grind me down, make me cry, make me give up on everything, is me. And I’m not ready to do that just yet. So I’m fighting back. I have to, I have no choice, because I want to live again.
This is perhaps more than you need to know, perhaps more than I need to say, but I feel in another way that I need to say this. I’m not sure why.
Part of the repercussions of the events of NY’sD meant that I abandoned my writing for that first month; I did not pick up a pen and put it to paper once – I could not. My usually un-silence-able mind had fallen silent, had nothing to say. Then, slowly, it started murmuring, then, towards the end of January, after another few hours of crying in bed, my heart burned through my fingers and I knew I was ready. My head started screaming again, and I had never been so glad to hear the thousands of words all fighting to be written down first, brawling in my brain once more.
And so, I won the first battle, but since then I realised I was still losing the war, of course. I had not posted anything real since the 19th December (apart from a piece of prose written as college coursework that I sort of threw at you almost out of desperation; I think I was trying to show myself what I needed to start doing again). That realisation scared me, but what scared me more was the thought of posting again. And then that broke my heart. I didn’t want to be scared of doing what I’ve always done; writing things and feeling that warmth in the heart when someone else likes it, or when it touches someone, means something to them.
So now, after weeks of promising you I would be back, I am coming home.
He will not win the war he started.

So there you have it. I now feel ready to rejoin my world over at livejournal, so from now on I think I will be posting poetry regularly there again. This doesn't mean I'll be abandoning this blog though, oh no. This blog offers me so much as well, I'd be foolish to give it up. Once I get going again at lj, I'll probably post some favourites over here too for those of you unable to get at my lj, and just because I can :)

Like I said, he will not win this war he started.

Sheilded bloom.

Evening all, here as promised is the photo blog. However, I highly doubt I will manage the longer post I spoke about in yesterdays entry; I've just got so many essays to do and not a lot of time to do them in, so any time left over the next few days will be dedicated to those.

One of these days I will get down to using this blog for what I aimed to use it for; working up the courage to post my writing again. Almost daily now I've wanted to write something more substantial but haven't had either the time or energy to do so, or sometimes it's that I don't quite know what I want to say.

I started writing a long reflection on how I'm worrying more about my future now than ever, but it started to drive me crazy so I gave up. Story of my life? Soon I will actually say the things I need to say. For now, I leave you with something funny I saw/read on twitter from the cute and almost-hilarious @sockington; munch munch munch I'M HAVING DEJA VITTLES THE STRANGE SENSE I ATE THIS BEFORE munch munch munch. I love it haha :)

Bottled it.

Yesterday I had the bright idea of saying I would try and take at least one photo per day, and make at least one blog entry each day; so here goes for today.

The story behind this photo is fairly simple; as with every day I got on my normal bus, although today it was a double decker which threw me a little bit as it offered me more choice of seats than I could cope with, so I dithered in the aisle for a millisecond whilst I tried to scan and pick without people noticing, and then I took my seat at the back on the left hand side. I have to sit on the left hand side of the bus - it doesn't matter where really, although the back is preferable. I'm not sure why. Anyway, I chose my seat at the back and put my feet up on the opposite chair (which is the one in the photo), pressed play on the iPhone's iPod, sat back and started rolling a cigarette to the sound of Fleet Foxes.

When I'd finished that little job, I brushed the little flakey bits of tobacco that had fallen into my lap onto the floor and sat up, feet on the floor, leaning forwards. It was as I did this, and looked out the window, that I saw this bottle wedged between the window and the chair opposite, and then noticed the pen next to it. Something, and don't ask me what, grabbed me about it, so I dived into my pocket, wrenched out the iPhone and took a photo.

Todays image has also been through a fair bit of image editing because the light levels made the original image look faded and over-saturated, but I still can't decide if I'm as happy with this picture as I am with the traffic lights. Something about that photo really grabs me, and its quite possibly one of, if not the, picture I am proudest of having taken.

Daily photo aside, today went well. Still slowly working up the courage to post some 'original writing', but that will come with time. I hope. I am still physically writing things, lots of things, but that's about as far as it gets at the moment. Just too scared of letting something go out there, of letting others see something so personal. In time. In terms of tweeting, today was a quieter day from me, didn't have as many conversations going or as much to tweet about. Tomorrow is Red Nose Day - that means costumes, friends, fun and music; and all for a brilliant cause - I can't wait. Having been to one of the poorest countries in Africa myself, I know how much good Comic Relief money does. Give generously, raise enthusiastically, have fun, and remember what you're doing it for.

Night all.

Maybe

I was thinking, maybe it will be easier to start posting 'poetry' again if it's here, on the new blog. Perhaps an element of the courage-to-post struggle I've been experiencing is because lj is something that remains the same as from before what happened, so I don't want to go back? Which really annoys me, because I'd built up a good sense of community over there that I don't want to lose. Another element is probably that, technology wise (blogs in particular) I get bored easily of the interface, themes, general layout etc, so probably sub-consciously that was a part of it. All in all, I don't want to lose my writing because of this. He's taken enough; he's not taking this. Writing has always been important in my life, from the little stories I used to write as soon as I learnt how, to the many discarded attempts at novels, plays and movie scripts, but most importantly; my 'poetry'. Personally I hate the word 'poetry' (but we'll save that for another day) but I guess I've always written it. I'm a musician too and lyrics are basically poems, so 'writing poems' is something that comes naturally. Over the last 18 months or so my confidence as a writer had been growing, (you could say it was even overtaking my confidence as a person) as I found the courage to show my writings to those in the know. But now, after what happened, I find that my stomach fills with a crippling sense of dread at the thought of posting anything online, where anyone else can see it. I didn't, no couldn't, physically write anything for about a month after, but then gradually it started coming back to me; little phrases here and there, that would just pop into my head like they used to, need writing down again; complex rhymes and rythmns would float around and need to be accounted for; once more, I would find myself desperately having to write something down for fear of losing it. The mojo was returning. But now, at this stage, despite having written full 'poems' and pages on pages of phrases that all could be developed into something more, I still can't show it to anyone. If he had left me my ability to write, I would almost be able to forgive him everything else, but the fact that he has taken my confidence as a writer...sounds ridiculous I know, but it's true. Writing was all I had, it was the only thing that I was even slightly better at than others, it was my art. Maybe one day, it will be again. Here's hoping.

Shall I...?

Was considering compiling a blogspot post of some of my favourite posts from lj?
As blogspot doesnt possess the lj import function of wordpress (but lets not talk about that hassle right now) and I kinda feel like it. But it will take bloody ages. Hmmm?

A fresh start here.

I am opening a new door today.
Starting new blogs, but not abandoning the old one. Continuing my twitter adventure as Holly-Alyx.
She is a pseudonym, and I will never pretend otherwise.
I find it easier to write as someone else. I find it easier to live on electronic pages, as someone else. I am re-building my life after recent events that have damaged me. I am trying, at least.
I'm getting there.

image credit - http://www.flickr.com/photos/waynephotoguy/