Do you know how it feels to find out that your Dad's girlfriend doesn't know you exist, to feel that you weren't worth one minute in their conversation, but to know that next time you see him he'll put you on a pedestall? Do you know how it feels to be told that you're loved, and be unable to believe it? Do you know what it feels like to be so close to someone but to feel there's a million miles between you? Do you know how much of a relief it is sometimes, to just cry? Do you know how it feels to feel nothing, to not know how you feel, to need to feel something?
I just watched Crazy Beautiful. It made me cry, for a lot of it actually. It might be a truly crap film but I didn't feel much before it and it just hit me. It's gone midnight and I've done none of my homework, all of it for tomorrow, none of it will get done.
I did go to school today, but I couldn't stick it. So now I'm at home. Anyway I'm fine, I'll be fine.
Hope everyone's ok. x x x
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Thursday, September 22, 2005
Water rocks
Wednesday 21st September 2005
19:05pm
I'm a little reluctant to say this but, today was a good day. A good day. It feels good to say that. Good day. I'm not even going to say the 's' word to anyone today, I don't have anything to apologise for.
Yesterday was an awesome day, I had my first sailing session and after one more quick test I was 'given' two first-time sailors to instruct during our Tuesday afternoon sessions, and other times should my students so wish. It was bizarre being totally in charge of a boat, and the crew - I kept forgetting that they had no idea what a gib sheet, or a main sheet, or a main halyard, or a tiller was. But I did keep my cool, when gently reminded they hadn't a clue. Still after I'd told them all the jargon I let them each take the helm in turn - not that it's a competiton, but I think my crew will win. Naturally. I love the water. I would've liked a bit more wind, after Cowes Week I'm used to being a little more in the extreme, but for learners it was perfect. Hoping for a force 4 or 5 next week and I'll be happy. Oh the only other tiny thing was they made me wear a buoyancy aid. I don't wear a buoyancy aid, I'm sure if I didn't wear it hiking out on a 40 footer, I don't need it perched on the edge of a 14 footer. But Risk Assessment Fairies insist.
I'm settling in more to my subjects now, at first I worried that Religious Philosophy and Ethics was a mistake, the questions drove me mad, but after a few more classes I've got Plato's Analogy of the Cave sorted and Meta Ethics going well. Oh and have you ever noticed that 'The Matrix' is a modern day interpretation of the Plato's cave thing? I never knew that till I watched it today. I ask a few too many questions now, I might be annoying a few people - teachers included, but hey. If I've got an opinion and the desire to ask the questions, surely that's a good thing in philosophy? In French today I did a kick-ass presentation on three important things, for me. I went for the sea, a manics CD and my notebook. I made up an analogy for a short story we studied, 'The Fog Horn' by Ray Bradbury, it was unique to me and I got a good first grade in English Literature - 16/20. Spanish is just going well in general.
This is a positive post right? Right, well why does that make me nervous? I'm really wary of things going well, really I know it's not so much that circumstances have changed, rather that it doesn't bother me today. I suspect it's the influence of sailing yesterday. I'm just gonna go with it while it lasts.
I have actually got to write a dramatic monologue for Eng Lit tomorrow, and I have two hours worth of Spanish homework, but I'm really not in the mood. I'm gonna go out on my bike, I've only just discovered how cycling by the sea with music is very therapeutic.
23:20pm
As ever Mum has no idea that I don't sleep, therefore I am in my room with only an incense burning, listening to mp3 because my stereo would wake her up - and she'd notice the light coming under my door. Today being a good day, you'd think I might be more tired but actually it's the exact opposite - I don't have any desire to sleep. I have noticed recently that I've thought I was asleep but I actually wasn't, I'm sure now that I'm not asleep. I never got into bed. I have pyjamas! I've not had real pyjamas since I was a little girl, just worn big shirts from swimarathons or sponsored walks or dad's wardrobe.
I just rang dad actually, last Saturday when he picked me up from band I left my clarinet in the back of his car while I was at work. Trouble is I walked home from work and haven't seen him since. The clarinet is still in the car. It was not my dad's car. So some dude who's having trouble with his Audi has probably been loaned the car, with my clarinet in the back. I need it for band tomorrow. I am fucked. Totally. I had to ring his goddamn phone five times to wake him up, only to have him promise to find it and deliver it to school. My father has never kept a promise in his entire life, I have little hope that this will be any different. All I can say is if the dude in the Audi takes the clarinet or it's lost in translation, dad is bloody well replacing it. Because I can't afford to.
Anyway. Went for a great ride. All the way to the castle to watch the boats, the spot at which I swear my bike just likes to cast the chain off. Each time I go down there the thing falls off and I get to put it on (because I don't flutter my eyelashes at guys ;-) ) whilst most of the other senior sailing instructors laugh at me. Then after they invite me into the yacht club for some juice and to wash my hands, so they redeem themselves. It is dark when I get outside, I realise I don't have my phone and there is probably a search and rescue operation underway by now, since it slipped my mind to tell mum I was going out. Instead I am greeted frostily at the end of the drive. It is 9pm.
The monologue went well, it's a bit intense. I sort of based it on my past year, but obviously I'm not expecting my teacher to realise, I hope he doesn't. I couldn't come up with anything better though and writing from experience is always easier. I've yet to complete my spanish, but hey - the night is young. I read the article though which at a whopping six pages in spanish, was not easy, is quite an acheivement. So far as I can tell it was about the atrocities happenning to women each day in Guetemala. If it wasn't so long I'd post it because it's so awful what happens out there.
Thursday 22nd September 2005
04:03:32am
Damnit I'm annoyed. I'd like to sleep now. Spanish homework is long completed, along with the Philosophy for next Monday, and the anticipated Ethics which I haven't yet been set. I've made copies of each poem I've saved on here, written them out by hand in a notebook. There were 57. My bedroom is also immaculate. Have you ever noticed that Alanis Morissette doesn't know what irony is? None of the things she lists are actually ironic. "It's like rain on your wedding day." wtf?!?!
As soon as this Miles Davis track has finished in 5 minutes I will have one last stab at a kip before the automatic alarm on my stereo comes on at 6:30am.
Sweet dreams.
17:38
One whole hour of sleep, that's gotta be an acheivement. Today lived up to my expectations, compared to yesterday it was crap. Not disasterous, just normal. For me. Spanish finished late and the taxi was late so I was late for band, which ran on and made me late for being picked up by mum and she doesn't like waiting. Dad forgot the clarinet and I had to keep calling him all day to get his ass down to school with the clarinet, then he couldn't find the college and was in a shit mood by the time I saw him. Mum's off out in a bit, trouble is I was going out too but now I'm staying in to babysit. Other than that, not a lot doing down here.
Funny list in The Guardian today, famous cocaine users -
US President Ulysses S Grant
Pope Leo XIII
Pope Saint Puis X
Queen Victoria
Frédéric Bartholdi - designer of the Statue of Liberty
Sigmund Freud
Stephen King
Robert Louis Stevenson
Thomas Edison
Sarah Bernhardt
You'll notice a couple of writers, priests and the father of psychoanalysis - worrying, very worrying.
x x x
19:05pm
I'm a little reluctant to say this but, today was a good day. A good day. It feels good to say that. Good day. I'm not even going to say the 's' word to anyone today, I don't have anything to apologise for.
Yesterday was an awesome day, I had my first sailing session and after one more quick test I was 'given' two first-time sailors to instruct during our Tuesday afternoon sessions, and other times should my students so wish. It was bizarre being totally in charge of a boat, and the crew - I kept forgetting that they had no idea what a gib sheet, or a main sheet, or a main halyard, or a tiller was. But I did keep my cool, when gently reminded they hadn't a clue. Still after I'd told them all the jargon I let them each take the helm in turn - not that it's a competiton, but I think my crew will win. Naturally. I love the water. I would've liked a bit more wind, after Cowes Week I'm used to being a little more in the extreme, but for learners it was perfect. Hoping for a force 4 or 5 next week and I'll be happy. Oh the only other tiny thing was they made me wear a buoyancy aid. I don't wear a buoyancy aid, I'm sure if I didn't wear it hiking out on a 40 footer, I don't need it perched on the edge of a 14 footer. But Risk Assessment Fairies insist.
I'm settling in more to my subjects now, at first I worried that Religious Philosophy and Ethics was a mistake, the questions drove me mad, but after a few more classes I've got Plato's Analogy of the Cave sorted and Meta Ethics going well. Oh and have you ever noticed that 'The Matrix' is a modern day interpretation of the Plato's cave thing? I never knew that till I watched it today. I ask a few too many questions now, I might be annoying a few people - teachers included, but hey. If I've got an opinion and the desire to ask the questions, surely that's a good thing in philosophy? In French today I did a kick-ass presentation on three important things, for me. I went for the sea, a manics CD and my notebook. I made up an analogy for a short story we studied, 'The Fog Horn' by Ray Bradbury, it was unique to me and I got a good first grade in English Literature - 16/20. Spanish is just going well in general.
This is a positive post right? Right, well why does that make me nervous? I'm really wary of things going well, really I know it's not so much that circumstances have changed, rather that it doesn't bother me today. I suspect it's the influence of sailing yesterday. I'm just gonna go with it while it lasts.
I have actually got to write a dramatic monologue for Eng Lit tomorrow, and I have two hours worth of Spanish homework, but I'm really not in the mood. I'm gonna go out on my bike, I've only just discovered how cycling by the sea with music is very therapeutic.
23:20pm
As ever Mum has no idea that I don't sleep, therefore I am in my room with only an incense burning, listening to mp3 because my stereo would wake her up - and she'd notice the light coming under my door. Today being a good day, you'd think I might be more tired but actually it's the exact opposite - I don't have any desire to sleep. I have noticed recently that I've thought I was asleep but I actually wasn't, I'm sure now that I'm not asleep. I never got into bed. I have pyjamas! I've not had real pyjamas since I was a little girl, just worn big shirts from swimarathons or sponsored walks or dad's wardrobe.
I just rang dad actually, last Saturday when he picked me up from band I left my clarinet in the back of his car while I was at work. Trouble is I walked home from work and haven't seen him since. The clarinet is still in the car. It was not my dad's car. So some dude who's having trouble with his Audi has probably been loaned the car, with my clarinet in the back. I need it for band tomorrow. I am fucked. Totally. I had to ring his goddamn phone five times to wake him up, only to have him promise to find it and deliver it to school. My father has never kept a promise in his entire life, I have little hope that this will be any different. All I can say is if the dude in the Audi takes the clarinet or it's lost in translation, dad is bloody well replacing it. Because I can't afford to.
Anyway. Went for a great ride. All the way to the castle to watch the boats, the spot at which I swear my bike just likes to cast the chain off. Each time I go down there the thing falls off and I get to put it on (because I don't flutter my eyelashes at guys ;-) ) whilst most of the other senior sailing instructors laugh at me. Then after they invite me into the yacht club for some juice and to wash my hands, so they redeem themselves. It is dark when I get outside, I realise I don't have my phone and there is probably a search and rescue operation underway by now, since it slipped my mind to tell mum I was going out. Instead I am greeted frostily at the end of the drive. It is 9pm.
The monologue went well, it's a bit intense. I sort of based it on my past year, but obviously I'm not expecting my teacher to realise, I hope he doesn't. I couldn't come up with anything better though and writing from experience is always easier. I've yet to complete my spanish, but hey - the night is young. I read the article though which at a whopping six pages in spanish, was not easy, is quite an acheivement. So far as I can tell it was about the atrocities happenning to women each day in Guetemala. If it wasn't so long I'd post it because it's so awful what happens out there.
Thursday 22nd September 2005
04:03:32am
Damnit I'm annoyed. I'd like to sleep now. Spanish homework is long completed, along with the Philosophy for next Monday, and the anticipated Ethics which I haven't yet been set. I've made copies of each poem I've saved on here, written them out by hand in a notebook. There were 57. My bedroom is also immaculate. Have you ever noticed that Alanis Morissette doesn't know what irony is? None of the things she lists are actually ironic. "It's like rain on your wedding day." wtf?!?!
As soon as this Miles Davis track has finished in 5 minutes I will have one last stab at a kip before the automatic alarm on my stereo comes on at 6:30am.
Sweet dreams.
17:38
One whole hour of sleep, that's gotta be an acheivement. Today lived up to my expectations, compared to yesterday it was crap. Not disasterous, just normal. For me. Spanish finished late and the taxi was late so I was late for band, which ran on and made me late for being picked up by mum and she doesn't like waiting. Dad forgot the clarinet and I had to keep calling him all day to get his ass down to school with the clarinet, then he couldn't find the college and was in a shit mood by the time I saw him. Mum's off out in a bit, trouble is I was going out too but now I'm staying in to babysit. Other than that, not a lot doing down here.
Funny list in The Guardian today, famous cocaine users -
US President Ulysses S Grant
Pope Leo XIII
Pope Saint Puis X
Queen Victoria
Frédéric Bartholdi - designer of the Statue of Liberty
Sigmund Freud
Stephen King
Robert Louis Stevenson
Thomas Edison
Sarah Bernhardt
You'll notice a couple of writers, priests and the father of psychoanalysis - worrying, very worrying.
x x x
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
A Few Things I Found...
Just a boring Sunday and I was looking through old birthday/christmas cards (I keep them all) and I thought I'd write the messages in some of them out here, actually both are from cards from Dad. Don't feel like explaining why, ask me on msn if you can be bothered. There's also a KS3 rhyme I had to learn for my KS3 exams - 3rd Year/Year 9.
This first card he signed with 'Martyn', rather than his staple 'Daddy'.
A daughter is a source of joy
that never seems to end -
A little darling when she's smalland when she's grown, a friend.
She's a window to a fresh new world,
she's memories held dear,
She's love that just keeps growing,
day by day and year by year.
A daughter's someone wonderful
and no one else could start,
To fill the special place she holds
deep down inside the heart.
This second one was a week late.
A candle for your talents, Daughter,
and for your wit and style,
A candle for your generous heart
and for your shining smile,
A candle for each secret something
you've been dreaming of...
As I said, not entirely sure why I felt the need to share those with you but I did.
Now a Parts of Speech Rhyme, which made me smile.
Every name is called a NOUN,
As field and fountain, street and town;
In place of noun the PRONOUN stands,
As he and she can clap their hands;
The ADJECTIVE decribes a thing,
As magic wand or bridal ring;
The VERB means action, something done -
To read and write, to jump and run;
How things are done the ADVERBS tell,
As quickly, slowly, badly, well;
The PREPOSITION shows relation,
As in the street or at the station;
CONJUNCTIONS join, in many ways,
Sentences, words, or phrase and phrase;
The INTERJECTION cries out, "Hark!
I need an exclamation mark!"
I requested two songs on the radio today - every Sunday there are four hours on our local radio when you text or phone in and request songs with a message if you like. First I requested Mad World - Gary Jules, with the message 'Sorry from Niki', not to anyone but to everyone I guess. Secondly I requested Smoke - Natalie Imbruglia with the message 'To Dad from Niki Lizzie', he doesn't listen to the radio so it was a safe choice I thought, safe because if you read the lyrics you'll see he might not have found it complimentary.
I have a terrible confession. I feel now is the time to reveal it. If you choose to walk away and never speak to me, I will understand although I hope you don't, I don't honestly think you will, but, well it is a pretty terrible thing. I will go after I've told you. Are you ready? I used to be a cheerleader. *gasp* Yes a cheerleader. With the tiny skirt and crop top, I had the pom-poms and the baton, I yelled along with the plastic girls to pop songs. Like therapy, I now feel better.
Time for me to go. Love you. x x x
This first card he signed with 'Martyn', rather than his staple 'Daddy'.
A daughter is a source of joy
that never seems to end -
A little darling when she's smalland when she's grown, a friend.
She's a window to a fresh new world,
she's memories held dear,
She's love that just keeps growing,
day by day and year by year.
A daughter's someone wonderful
and no one else could start,
To fill the special place she holds
deep down inside the heart.
This second one was a week late.
A candle for your talents, Daughter,
and for your wit and style,
A candle for your generous heart
and for your shining smile,
A candle for each secret something
you've been dreaming of...
As I said, not entirely sure why I felt the need to share those with you but I did.
Now a Parts of Speech Rhyme, which made me smile.
Every name is called a NOUN,
As field and fountain, street and town;
In place of noun the PRONOUN stands,
As he and she can clap their hands;
The ADJECTIVE decribes a thing,
As magic wand or bridal ring;
The VERB means action, something done -
To read and write, to jump and run;
How things are done the ADVERBS tell,
As quickly, slowly, badly, well;
The PREPOSITION shows relation,
As in the street or at the station;
CONJUNCTIONS join, in many ways,
Sentences, words, or phrase and phrase;
The INTERJECTION cries out, "Hark!
I need an exclamation mark!"
I requested two songs on the radio today - every Sunday there are four hours on our local radio when you text or phone in and request songs with a message if you like. First I requested Mad World - Gary Jules, with the message 'Sorry from Niki', not to anyone but to everyone I guess. Secondly I requested Smoke - Natalie Imbruglia with the message 'To Dad from Niki Lizzie', he doesn't listen to the radio so it was a safe choice I thought, safe because if you read the lyrics you'll see he might not have found it complimentary.
I have a terrible confession. I feel now is the time to reveal it. If you choose to walk away and never speak to me, I will understand although I hope you don't, I don't honestly think you will, but, well it is a pretty terrible thing. I will go after I've told you. Are you ready? I used to be a cheerleader. *gasp* Yes a cheerleader. With the tiny skirt and crop top, I had the pom-poms and the baton, I yelled along with the plastic girls to pop songs. Like therapy, I now feel better.
Time for me to go. Love you. x x x
Friday, September 16, 2005
Today
I have just got in from a long cycle ride. It was a very tough ride. I was riding for about 7 miles into a wind of 45mph so I turned around and came home, plus it felt like my hair was going to be totally blown off my head. Now I'm just sitting in my room listening to spanish radio with no homework, so I thought I'd write a little post for you. I warn you now - I have no idea what to write so brace yourself for what might come out of my mind.
College is going ok so far, there are 250 people in my year - lower 6th/year 12 - which is the biggest intake ever since we have a brand new 6th Form Centre. I've met so many people, which I did find a little bit scary but I know a whole bunch of different guys and gals now - most of whom I'd never have met without school. I've also caught up with a few people that I lost touch with at the end of Primary School 5 years ago, it was kinda wierd but also not, like we'd not lived a whole 5 years since we last spoke.
As you may know my subjects this year are:
Spanish - Mrs Hamilton + Mrs Gill
French - Mrs Gaudion + Mrs Brache
English Literature - Mr Thompson
Religious Philosophy and Ethics - Miss Thomas + Mr Montague (Monty)
They are going ok so far. For Spanish I have to go everyday to a Roman Catholic girls college, in a taxi, with the 7 other people in my class and we are taught with the girls who aren't allowed to wear trousers, in a school that still doesn't allow any students to study Chaucer. I have to say it does intimidate me a little, makes me laugh too though. Just remember: Soy un ateo/atea = I am an atheist. Then watch them scrabble for their dictionaries while they try to interpret what you're saying, then look at the shocked faces when they work it out. Awesome. Anyway sorry to any Roman Catholics out there.
Ah Bob Marley.
I feel like a repair-woman. So far this week I have set up the home PC, mended the DVD player and repressurized the Gas boiler. What a practical girl huh?! I was saying in an msn convo the other night that I'm a rubbish girl, aka a tomboy I suppose. In my defence I have a feminine side. I like teddies :-) and my room is pink and orange, and I do wear skirts occaisionally - albeit black ones - and I do have a lot of bags. I just prefer practicality like make-up free faces, trousers, flat shoes and rucksacks.
I am cold.
I also have no inspiration for good, publishable writing just now. It's a numb period as far as feelings and poetry goes. Which I tried writing about but failed. I'll go try again.
Hope you uni people are getting on ok so far and those of you working etc are enjoying it. Love you. x x x
College is going ok so far, there are 250 people in my year - lower 6th/year 12 - which is the biggest intake ever since we have a brand new 6th Form Centre. I've met so many people, which I did find a little bit scary but I know a whole bunch of different guys and gals now - most of whom I'd never have met without school. I've also caught up with a few people that I lost touch with at the end of Primary School 5 years ago, it was kinda wierd but also not, like we'd not lived a whole 5 years since we last spoke.
As you may know my subjects this year are:
Spanish - Mrs Hamilton + Mrs Gill
French - Mrs Gaudion + Mrs Brache
English Literature - Mr Thompson
Religious Philosophy and Ethics - Miss Thomas + Mr Montague (Monty)
They are going ok so far. For Spanish I have to go everyday to a Roman Catholic girls college, in a taxi, with the 7 other people in my class and we are taught with the girls who aren't allowed to wear trousers, in a school that still doesn't allow any students to study Chaucer. I have to say it does intimidate me a little, makes me laugh too though. Just remember: Soy un ateo/atea = I am an atheist. Then watch them scrabble for their dictionaries while they try to interpret what you're saying, then look at the shocked faces when they work it out. Awesome. Anyway sorry to any Roman Catholics out there.
Ah Bob Marley.
I feel like a repair-woman. So far this week I have set up the home PC, mended the DVD player and repressurized the Gas boiler. What a practical girl huh?! I was saying in an msn convo the other night that I'm a rubbish girl, aka a tomboy I suppose. In my defence I have a feminine side. I like teddies :-) and my room is pink and orange, and I do wear skirts occaisionally - albeit black ones - and I do have a lot of bags. I just prefer practicality like make-up free faces, trousers, flat shoes and rucksacks.
I am cold.
I also have no inspiration for good, publishable writing just now. It's a numb period as far as feelings and poetry goes. Which I tried writing about but failed. I'll go try again.
Hope you uni people are getting on ok so far and those of you working etc are enjoying it. Love you. x x x
Sunday, September 11, 2005
Do not worry
Just read these. I'm not going to explain them until the end.
If anything ever happens to me I want to take this chance to say I'm sorry. It wasn't my fault that he had most contact with me. I didn't ask for him to have an affair. I never said I preferred him. I kept being close to him to protect the girls, I don't think they would have wanted to pick him up drunk from a pub or call a cab for him or help him to get home or clean up after him, I don't think you'd want them to go through that. I wouldn't wish it upon anyone, and I never did, even when I thought I couldn't take anymore.
I love you so very much no matter what you say and I love Ellen* and Comfort* too, although I don't know if we told each other often enough. Right now the thoughts in my head are so dark and the scars so vivid. I cannot go on. It is nobody's fault but my own and I'm so sorry I never told you.
What can I say? We had ups and we had downs, we were too alike. I'm sorry I never told you how I felt. I'm sorry for all those choices I made that you condemed. I apologise for my beliefs, but they were just that. Mine. My beliefs. I hope that someday you can wake up and see what I've been telling you for so long. I almost wish something would scare you, so you'd grow up and stop believing that you're invincible. It would be a lie to say I'm not angry, I am angry not at you but at what you do. I despair for you, because I love you.
I never forgot you, even in my darkest hours and when we had no contact, you were always on my mind. I prayed to a God I don't believe in for you. I'm sorry but not for the fact that I love you.
Isn't it strange how close you get to people without being close to them? That's how it was for me and for you, I expect. I know that if you are reading this I will either have released it earlier or someone will have read the note at the top of the page and come to tell you this. I don't know what to say to you. I do want to thank you though. I want to thank you for being there when I believed no one else was. And for never changing who you were when others I knew did. I love you too. And to Lucie* and Pete* I say, Keep Fighting. You are stronger than me and therefore you can make it, thank you to you too, love you.
You will sit and talk about me I suppose, not something I deserve. You will be talking about me but it won't really be me. Because through no fault of your own, you didn't know me. Not really. I never shared myself with you, I was afraid to let you in because I knew you would be afraid and might even shut me out for a little while. I know this will sound hollow but I write it with as full a meaning as I can manage, you are excellent people and I felt privileged to meet you, know you. Without knowing it you helped me until no one else could. So I thank you and I love you.
None of you really knew me very well, you didn't see me often but I know you loved me and I love you. I hope you can one day understand why I never told you anything. I'm sorry for not opening up to those who should have been closest to me. Jane* keep fighting, the fact you survived illustrates to me so clearly that you are meant to go on.
(* denotes names have been changed, partly to protect those who have not given me permission to write personally about them, and partly to make it harder for you to guess.)
Now calm down. I know you'll have read those and realised what they look like, but it's ok. I have published them now so they are out and I will never have to use them. I will never leave those for people to read when I can't read them to them myself. I promise this to you. They are simply so you can see how I feel sometimes and some are just so I could write things down that I can't say to people directly. I have torn the originals, on paper, up and this blog will be the only record of them.
That's the dramatic bit over.
Now guess which one is to whom.
x x x
If anything ever happens to me I want to take this chance to say I'm sorry. It wasn't my fault that he had most contact with me. I didn't ask for him to have an affair. I never said I preferred him. I kept being close to him to protect the girls, I don't think they would have wanted to pick him up drunk from a pub or call a cab for him or help him to get home or clean up after him, I don't think you'd want them to go through that. I wouldn't wish it upon anyone, and I never did, even when I thought I couldn't take anymore.
I love you so very much no matter what you say and I love Ellen* and Comfort* too, although I don't know if we told each other often enough. Right now the thoughts in my head are so dark and the scars so vivid. I cannot go on. It is nobody's fault but my own and I'm so sorry I never told you.
What can I say? We had ups and we had downs, we were too alike. I'm sorry I never told you how I felt. I'm sorry for all those choices I made that you condemed. I apologise for my beliefs, but they were just that. Mine. My beliefs. I hope that someday you can wake up and see what I've been telling you for so long. I almost wish something would scare you, so you'd grow up and stop believing that you're invincible. It would be a lie to say I'm not angry, I am angry not at you but at what you do. I despair for you, because I love you.
I never forgot you, even in my darkest hours and when we had no contact, you were always on my mind. I prayed to a God I don't believe in for you. I'm sorry but not for the fact that I love you.
Isn't it strange how close you get to people without being close to them? That's how it was for me and for you, I expect. I know that if you are reading this I will either have released it earlier or someone will have read the note at the top of the page and come to tell you this. I don't know what to say to you. I do want to thank you though. I want to thank you for being there when I believed no one else was. And for never changing who you were when others I knew did. I love you too. And to Lucie* and Pete* I say, Keep Fighting. You are stronger than me and therefore you can make it, thank you to you too, love you.
You will sit and talk about me I suppose, not something I deserve. You will be talking about me but it won't really be me. Because through no fault of your own, you didn't know me. Not really. I never shared myself with you, I was afraid to let you in because I knew you would be afraid and might even shut me out for a little while. I know this will sound hollow but I write it with as full a meaning as I can manage, you are excellent people and I felt privileged to meet you, know you. Without knowing it you helped me until no one else could. So I thank you and I love you.
None of you really knew me very well, you didn't see me often but I know you loved me and I love you. I hope you can one day understand why I never told you anything. I'm sorry for not opening up to those who should have been closest to me. Jane* keep fighting, the fact you survived illustrates to me so clearly that you are meant to go on.
(* denotes names have been changed, partly to protect those who have not given me permission to write personally about them, and partly to make it harder for you to guess.)
Now calm down. I know you'll have read those and realised what they look like, but it's ok. I have published them now so they are out and I will never have to use them. I will never leave those for people to read when I can't read them to them myself. I promise this to you. They are simply so you can see how I feel sometimes and some are just so I could write things down that I can't say to people directly. I have torn the originals, on paper, up and this blog will be the only record of them.
That's the dramatic bit over.
Now guess which one is to whom.
x x x
Thursday, September 08, 2005
Well I finally got in, I went to college to enrol this morning then got the bus back with a bunch of people I know and walked down my clos to my house - which is right at the end of a clos with 40 houses. Anyway. I got to the front door and dumped the pile of trees I seemed to have collected during the morning and threw my diary and shirt down on top of them, so as to take a proper look in my bag for my keys. Now it's quite a big bag - the pink one I had in London - and I assumed my keys were at the bottom. They were not. They were not anywhere in my bag. So I phoned Mum who agreed that yes my keys were on the back seat of her car, but no she would not bring them to me. I phoned my sister, but I forgot she couldn't drive, so she couldn't bring them. Total last resort was Dad, there was a set in the car he picked me up from the airport in, but that car was now in the possession of a customer who was borrowing it while his was fixed, so Dad couldn't come either, secretly I didn't mind. By now I need the toilet. I phone to Mum and actually beg her, until the battery on my phone ran out. She came, not happily, but she came. There, wasn't that a great story? Now I'm in my bedroom with the stereo turned up full-blast and I'm here trying to write something to update my blog. I kept detailed diariy entries whilst on the mainland, so I think I'm just going to take a few extracts from that, not all of it because some was written in the dark and I can hardly read that, and some of it is just crap.
25th August
"You look tired Nik, carrying the weight of the world. Still, you'll sort it out." Yes this is Grandad's welcome. I must work harder to cover it up. The number of relatives who told me I looked pale, maybe I should break the habit of a lifetime and wear make up. Nah.
This holiday my sister stole my bedroom so I had to stay on the futon in the front room, I have always been sort of afraid of that room. It's too big and open and the bed was right in the middle of it. It was my uncle's room up till a few years ago when he moved out (he's autistic) and he still keeps his guns in there. It was creepy, I prefer small spaces, preferably the corners of them.
26th August
The ITV news reports on underage drinking and drugs, they have experts and parents - none of which are under 30 years old. Yet they know all about it, they know why we do it, what the attractions are, and they think we make up exscuses for it. Now have any of them actually asked a 16 year old why they drink or take drugs? I doubt it. Perhaps teenagers have just as much, or more, to worry about than adults - maybe some of us are practically adults, just early. They should ask us, not a 60 year old professor from america.
"If you don't believe in yourself, who else can be expected to?" Oh great.
27th August
My Grandad used to be a Market Gardener, before he quit and took to the stock market. That is to say he owns acres of land and lots of vehicles, all housed in a huge warehouse - the pictures of my house in England can be found on my msn space - and I spent a lot of time out there. I can drive a tractor and his transit van, I used to wear his hat and go tearing off across his fields.
I rode my bike, the only thing that no one else can touch, down to the village to post a letter. The brakes failed. It was totally reckless, I was going down a huge hill and got to a junction and just sped right through, causing a car to practise an emergency stop. You don't speed across junctions on B - roads, without stopping. For the rest of the way and the way back I listened to my mp3 very loud and accepted that if a car didn't stop, it didnt stop. They all stopped. Hence, I am intact. Awesome riding though.
Ever seen 'The Perfect Storm'? I liked it. This will sound totally morbid but, there was no happy ending. The fishermen all drowned. It was honest and life-like, it was the sea.
28th August (getting bored yet?)
I have a little blue cable-tie, you know the ones? It was used to fasten a label to my camp rucksack and when you cut them off they are great to fiddle with, they only go one way. I have been fiddling with this a lot, I like to have something in my hands, like to keep them busy. I think it makes me less self-conscious.
I've got my Hampshire accent back really quickly, sounding like a true farmer.
30th August
Went to Oxford today, what I think made the day for me was sitting the back of Grandma's Vauxhall Vectra while she did 90mph down a dual-carriageway. Reckless lady. Funny, I thought exceeding the speed limit might be 'rude'.
Emily, my youngest sister, was supposed to be getting christened, but Mum changed her mind. Strangely, I'm glad - I was to be her Godmother. The thought of promising something to God doesn't really appeal to me, bad enough my parents offered me to God when I was one year old. Did you know I can recite the entire Lord's Prayer? I used to have to do it daily, but I haven't for about five years, I haven't forgotten it though.
1st August
Steven Eric Daysh and Paula Robertson were today joined in Holy Matrimony, to become Mr+ Mrs Daysh. When my parents divorced I was offered the chance to change to my maternal name, Daysh, but I refused. It was a cool wedding, sort of. I read that poem thing and there were loads of pictures and champagne and decorating of Uncle Steve's car. Don't you find it amazing how two people can trust each other so completely? There are a tiny handful of people I trust. But to give yourself to someone, surrender your whole self to them, well I find that pretty scary. Shall I do the cycnical marriage bit and write the poem I wrote? Tough, I'm going to anyway.
I See
So she sits and she smiles,
There she sits laughing,
He sits with a childish grin,
There he is staring at her,
Never quite believing he was chosen.
He looks away and she turns and she watches,
Watches the man she loves,
Wondering when she got so lucky.
I sit here, observing them all,
Family, friends, new lives and old,
Full up with love,
Trust.
I see the blindness,
Their blinkered eyes, I see,
The illusion they believe in,
The shattering, I see,
They've seen it once.
Yet still they try,
A second dose of love,
Happiness,
Hopes,
Dreams,
Trust.
But I see.
Ok not one of the best.
2nd September
Emily has been listening to Grandad's music again, she is walking around singing 'Joleen' by Dolly Parton. She's got the accent but unfortunately not the tune, if you could call it that.
In the UK you have letters and numbers in your car registration, like KB53EZP, if I see these or in fact anything with letters, I automatically put them in alphabetical order, any words. I don't know why.
Did you know wherever you are in the UK you are never further than 72 miles from the sea? Reassuring huh?
3rd September
Another of those cycle rides, but to a different town this time. The brakes have not yet been fixed, so down a 10% slope was awesome. Coming back up - not so much. Still it was hard ride and oddly cleansing. More loud music to try and block out those stupid voices in my head.
4th September
Jemma and I had an arguement over the front seat of all things. I didn't want it but I got there first and felt like standing my ground. So she phyisically fought me. She is strong. But she seemed to forget I do quite a lot of sailing, so I'm stronger. And taller. With longer legs. Still I let her get me to the floor until I sort of flipped her over and, well she started to cry. Aren't I a bitchy sister? Still she got the front seat. Even though she started it. It put me in a really odd mood, I mean she's 12. When she gets the seat and I have Mum yelling how terrible I am, are you supposed to feel like chucking yourself off a bridge onto the M27? Or is that just me?
6th September
It is rude to decline a cup of tea when offered, unless you have a legitimate reason for doing so - eg a big lunch filled you up. I went for another cycle ride and actually yelled along to the music, it was the first time I had sworn for ages - since swearing is rude. Therefore I would like to announce that I am rude. As Keir said, 'Fuck them'. * clears throat* Sorry, more tea?
Love you x x x
PS I think I need a few ideas for posts since I'm sure this is boring you, any ideas?
25th August
"You look tired Nik, carrying the weight of the world. Still, you'll sort it out." Yes this is Grandad's welcome. I must work harder to cover it up. The number of relatives who told me I looked pale, maybe I should break the habit of a lifetime and wear make up. Nah.
This holiday my sister stole my bedroom so I had to stay on the futon in the front room, I have always been sort of afraid of that room. It's too big and open and the bed was right in the middle of it. It was my uncle's room up till a few years ago when he moved out (he's autistic) and he still keeps his guns in there. It was creepy, I prefer small spaces, preferably the corners of them.
26th August
The ITV news reports on underage drinking and drugs, they have experts and parents - none of which are under 30 years old. Yet they know all about it, they know why we do it, what the attractions are, and they think we make up exscuses for it. Now have any of them actually asked a 16 year old why they drink or take drugs? I doubt it. Perhaps teenagers have just as much, or more, to worry about than adults - maybe some of us are practically adults, just early. They should ask us, not a 60 year old professor from america.
"If you don't believe in yourself, who else can be expected to?" Oh great.
27th August
My Grandad used to be a Market Gardener, before he quit and took to the stock market. That is to say he owns acres of land and lots of vehicles, all housed in a huge warehouse - the pictures of my house in England can be found on my msn space - and I spent a lot of time out there. I can drive a tractor and his transit van, I used to wear his hat and go tearing off across his fields.
I rode my bike, the only thing that no one else can touch, down to the village to post a letter. The brakes failed. It was totally reckless, I was going down a huge hill and got to a junction and just sped right through, causing a car to practise an emergency stop. You don't speed across junctions on B - roads, without stopping. For the rest of the way and the way back I listened to my mp3 very loud and accepted that if a car didn't stop, it didnt stop. They all stopped. Hence, I am intact. Awesome riding though.
Ever seen 'The Perfect Storm'? I liked it. This will sound totally morbid but, there was no happy ending. The fishermen all drowned. It was honest and life-like, it was the sea.
28th August (getting bored yet?)
I have a little blue cable-tie, you know the ones? It was used to fasten a label to my camp rucksack and when you cut them off they are great to fiddle with, they only go one way. I have been fiddling with this a lot, I like to have something in my hands, like to keep them busy. I think it makes me less self-conscious.
I've got my Hampshire accent back really quickly, sounding like a true farmer.
30th August
Went to Oxford today, what I think made the day for me was sitting the back of Grandma's Vauxhall Vectra while she did 90mph down a dual-carriageway. Reckless lady. Funny, I thought exceeding the speed limit might be 'rude'.
Emily, my youngest sister, was supposed to be getting christened, but Mum changed her mind. Strangely, I'm glad - I was to be her Godmother. The thought of promising something to God doesn't really appeal to me, bad enough my parents offered me to God when I was one year old. Did you know I can recite the entire Lord's Prayer? I used to have to do it daily, but I haven't for about five years, I haven't forgotten it though.
1st August
Steven Eric Daysh and Paula Robertson were today joined in Holy Matrimony, to become Mr+ Mrs Daysh. When my parents divorced I was offered the chance to change to my maternal name, Daysh, but I refused. It was a cool wedding, sort of. I read that poem thing and there were loads of pictures and champagne and decorating of Uncle Steve's car. Don't you find it amazing how two people can trust each other so completely? There are a tiny handful of people I trust. But to give yourself to someone, surrender your whole self to them, well I find that pretty scary. Shall I do the cycnical marriage bit and write the poem I wrote? Tough, I'm going to anyway.
I See
So she sits and she smiles,
There she sits laughing,
He sits with a childish grin,
There he is staring at her,
Never quite believing he was chosen.
He looks away and she turns and she watches,
Watches the man she loves,
Wondering when she got so lucky.
I sit here, observing them all,
Family, friends, new lives and old,
Full up with love,
Trust.
I see the blindness,
Their blinkered eyes, I see,
The illusion they believe in,
The shattering, I see,
They've seen it once.
Yet still they try,
A second dose of love,
Happiness,
Hopes,
Dreams,
Trust.
But I see.
Ok not one of the best.
2nd September
Emily has been listening to Grandad's music again, she is walking around singing 'Joleen' by Dolly Parton. She's got the accent but unfortunately not the tune, if you could call it that.
In the UK you have letters and numbers in your car registration, like KB53EZP, if I see these or in fact anything with letters, I automatically put them in alphabetical order, any words. I don't know why.
Did you know wherever you are in the UK you are never further than 72 miles from the sea? Reassuring huh?
3rd September
Another of those cycle rides, but to a different town this time. The brakes have not yet been fixed, so down a 10% slope was awesome. Coming back up - not so much. Still it was hard ride and oddly cleansing. More loud music to try and block out those stupid voices in my head.
4th September
Jemma and I had an arguement over the front seat of all things. I didn't want it but I got there first and felt like standing my ground. So she phyisically fought me. She is strong. But she seemed to forget I do quite a lot of sailing, so I'm stronger. And taller. With longer legs. Still I let her get me to the floor until I sort of flipped her over and, well she started to cry. Aren't I a bitchy sister? Still she got the front seat. Even though she started it. It put me in a really odd mood, I mean she's 12. When she gets the seat and I have Mum yelling how terrible I am, are you supposed to feel like chucking yourself off a bridge onto the M27? Or is that just me?
6th September
It is rude to decline a cup of tea when offered, unless you have a legitimate reason for doing so - eg a big lunch filled you up. I went for another cycle ride and actually yelled along to the music, it was the first time I had sworn for ages - since swearing is rude. Therefore I would like to announce that I am rude. As Keir said, 'Fuck them'. * clears throat* Sorry, more tea?
Love you x x x
PS I think I need a few ideas for posts since I'm sure this is boring you, any ideas?
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