Are you alive?

Now call me crazy...

...Actually don't.

But anyway - where are you people? Everyone's disappeared from my blog. Ok so I know it's a leetle bit shite just now - well always. But, but. You used to humour me!

Tell you what you tell me what you want to read, and I'll write it.

Well whadda you know?

This is crazy. Today my horrible 12-year-old sister gave me a book. You wanna know what it's called? "Life's Little Instruction Book"

Sure it's a little lame, it's not so great but my sister gave me a book with '511 suggestions, observations and reminders on how to live a happy and rewarding life'

I am in shock.

xxx


Of course she tried to sit on my head two hours later but mneh...

Kings Crossing

The King's crossing was the main attraction
Dominoes falling in a chain reaction
The scraping subject ruled by fear told me
Whiskey works better than beer
The judge is on vinyl, decisions aren't final
And nobody gets a reprieve
And every wave is tidal If you hang around you're going to get wet
I can't prepare for death any more than I already have
All you can do now is watch the shells
The game looks easy, that's why it sells

Frustrated fireworks inside your head
Are going to stand and deliver dark instead
The method acting that pays my bills
Keeps the fat man feeding in Beverly Hills
I got a heavy metal mouth, it hurls obscenity
And I get my check from the trash treasury Because I took my own insides out

It don't matter cause I have no sex life
And all I wanna do now is inject my ex-wife I've seen the movie
And I know what happens
It's Christmas time
And the needle's on the tree
A skinny Santa is bringing something to me
His voice is overwhelming
But his speech is slurred
And I only understand every other word

Open your parachute and grab your gun
Float down like an omen, a setting sun
Read the part and return at five
It's a hell of a role if you can keep it alive
But I don't care if I fuck up
I'm going on a date
With a rich white lady
Ain't life great?
Gi'me one good reason not to do it(Because I love you)
So do it.

This is the place where time reverses
And dead men talk to all the pretty nurses
Instruments shine on a silver tray
Don't let me get carried away
Don't let me get carried away
Don't let me be carried away


Elliott Smith
From A Basement On A Hill

WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY

Can't I study? I mean I'm doing anything and everything to avoid it - I've watched AWFUL movies, tidied the garage, washed my hair again, eaten chocolate, eaten disgusting microwave food and written a lot of rubbish in a notebook.

I am fucked.

An Ode To Poets

This was written by a guy on a site I visit, it made me giggle - and poets around it's really not meant to offend. As I say I thought it was funny and you know what I'm like with poetry...

Cliché after cliché
And rhyming to make it breezy
Writing poetry is easy
Especially like this about feelings, not cheesy.
Keeping on writing,
About how I’m fighting,
It’s narrative, derivative and delighting
All of you, because it’s “powerful”,“Lovely”,
“I can so relate”,“Myself too I do so hate”.
Life is so black,
life is so bleak,
Knives are fun and cool and sleek;
I’m feeling so bad, so I’ll write it down,
And on my head a poetry achievement will crown.
Because I write well,
About my personal hell,
And it’s so sad,
So mad,
So beautiful, so bad,
When I write poetry about feelings and shit.

So here comes the noose,
Tighter, it will not loose,
My feelings are so sad,
So sad, so sad,
I feel so bad,
So bad, so bad.
So won’t you relate,
To these overly familiar statements of hate,
These overly sentimentalised, cliché and third rate
Poems about feelings
And shit.

A Check-Up

Did I ever mention that I love you guys? All of you who visit here. I just wanted to make sure you knew. Take care of yourselves always.
xxx

A Rest

Do not stand at my blog and weep
I am still here;
I'm only asleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my blog and cry,
I am still here;
I did not die.

x

Self Discovery? Honesty?

Not my idea I assure you, but I thought I'd give it a crack - feel free to dispute or add your own...

I love the way that I...

like to help other people out
can make people smile
stick by what I believe no matter what
stay faithful
always keep secrets
am trustworthy
keep things neat and tidy
know how to wire a plug

I hate the way that I...

am always moaning about something
pester people constantly
am paranoid
treat myself sometimes
can be too needy
am rarely true to myself
get so easily influenced by others
let people do things I'm not happy with
have no strength when I need it
sat down to actually write this...

Postcard from the edge

GCSE Coursework coming up folks, a dramatic monologue. Well a boring drivel - but hey I can do pretentious...

* A girl, about 18, sits in the corner of a bright bedroom *

School was the same, the same as usual. I sat and people talked, occaisionally to me but when I don't reply the questions cease. They're fed up of me I know it, that's why I can't tell them - not all of them, not all of it. I wouldn't expect them to understand, they've not been through the same as me, I've seen enough to kill.

I do get up every morning though, I don't sleep. I was deprived of that basic need months ago, but I lie in bed for hours. They complain how tired they are, but they have nothing on my inpenetratable tiredness.

My grades are good enough, not as good as they used to be but still good - apparantly. I'm not sure how since I've the attention span of a three-year-old and I'm usually totally oblivious to what's going on around me, not that I'm complaining.

I write a lot, I write poetry and short stories and I keep a journal into which I write every thought, every bout of tears and every slip-up, of which there are many.
Saw a boy I used to know today, a boy who knew me. But he left long ago, not that I blame him - maybe he thought I liked having my heart stamped on, maybe he thought that was why people seem to do it to me so often.

* Fade to black *

* The girl sits with red eyes on a beach, it is midday and drizzling*

I went to see him today, just like he asked, just as I should have. I'm not sure why I booked the appointment, talking just seems to make me worse, not that I can get much worse.
He said I was angry, said how sad it was for a girl of my age to be so angry, well - that made me angry, being called angry. I'm not angry anyway, not as much as I am sad, anyway.

I didn't say much, I never do. It's easier to let him smile his pitying smile at me and tell me how I'm feeling. I told him about my poetry and he recited a quote, 'Poetry is an echo asking a shadow to dance'. I feigned indifference but actually, I kinda liked it.

The appointment triggered me off of course, I knew it would, I did it again. Made a terrible mess all over my pink top, but I felt better afterwards. Not so lonely while it was in my hand, not so alone.

I have a headache, I think I'll take some asprin, washed down with something to make me sleep, for a while.

* Fade to black *

* The girl sits in the corner of a bare white room, dressed in a grey gown, pale-faced *

They found me. Lying there in that disgusting state. I didn't want to be found, I wrote poems for them all to read. I only wanted the headache to end, the pain to end, the end.

* The girl sits on a sunny beach surrounded by friends *

It ended, of course. They still don't know. Anything. But I do, I know an awful lot more than I thought I did.
I talk now, too.

Nikita

Hey Nikita is it cold
In your little corner of the world
You could roll around the globe
And never find a warmer soul to know
Oh I saw you by the wall
Ten of your tin soldiers in a row
With eyes that looked like ice on fire
The human heart a captive in the snow
Oh Nikita
You will never know anything about my home
I'll never know how good it feels to hold you
Nikita I need you so
Oh Nikita is the other side of any given line in time
Counting ten tin soldiers in a row
Oh no, Nikita you'll never know
Do you ever dream of me
Do you ever see the letters that I write
When you look up through the wire
Nikita do you count the stars at night
And if there comes a time
Guns and gates no longer hold you in
And if you're free to make a choice
Just look towards the west and find a friend


Ok so I don't like Elton John. I am not a pretty russian girl. But I am called Nikita...

Things like this

When your friend calls to check you're ok
When someone hugs you for no reason
When a stranger smiles back
When you're told that you're loved
When the sun shines in the morning
When you hear your favourite voice
When you get a message from someone you thought didn't care
When you can say "So what?"
When your favourite song plays on the radio
When you find out that you're not alone

It's things like this that make those tears worthwhile

Oh how times change

Nikita Elizabeth Le Sauvage - Age 8

Happiness is...

Happiness is going to my dads on Saturdays
It is sitting down with my dad watching my favourite video
Happiness is cuddling my mum
And huddling up against my dad on a Saturday night
Happiness is opening presents on my birthday
Feeling my cuddly bunny next to me in bed
Eating my favourite food on my birthday
Knowing my mum and dad love me
Happiness is going to see Erin my little friend who is two
And giving Erin a cuddle

Niki - Age 16

Happiness is...

Happiness is sleeping late on a Saturday
It is avoiding my parents for an entire week
Happiness is hanging off the side of a boat
And walking along the beach
Happiness is the company of friends
Feeling someone's arms around me
Eating ice cream
Knowing that I'm never alone
Happiness is the thought of escape
And never coming back

Nothing stays the same people
xxx

Time for films...

Oh dear, I seem to be onto something with these lists - yes I know they're literary suicide but I'm clutcthing at straws a little here and it's all I could think of doing. So we shall commence, this time with my top ten favourite DVD's - they have to be films I have copies of or else it'd take me years to compile a definitive list. In fact I don't think I could get it down to just ten... Once again these are in no particular order.

1. Lost In Translation

I've read a lot of reviews about this film, some singing its praises and others just being downright mean but I think there's something about it that just, clicks when you watch it. It's that sense of being surrounded by people and still feeling lost and alone, I think everyone knows that feeling on some level - and it's being in a big city that scares you. Plus of course Scarlett Johanssen is beautiful. (No Keir, I am not a lesbian...)

2. Crazy/Beautiful

Yes it has Kirsten Dunst in it. But I still like it. It's cute, no matter what some people may say...

3. Loch Ness

My favourite film of all time. No more needs to be said.

4. Donnie Darko

Everyone has seen this film, how can everyone not like it?

5. Sylvia

Devastating, beautiful.

6. The Perfect Storm

One of the few Hollywood films without a happy ending.

7. Top Gun

Yes it's sad, but it's a classic.

8. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Very strange, but I love Clementine's hair.

9. Romeo and Juliet

Amazing adaptation.

10. One Fine Day

Again it's sad, but it's got George Clooney in it...

xxx

Read children, read

Right, well I'm in a list making mood and since I have previously compiled my top 10 albums (although they have changed) I shall now do my top ten books. This time they are in no particular order, just ten books which I have read and enjoyed, and am now recommending to you if you have not read them. I shall begin.

1. The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath

Well a book list wouldn't be a book list without this title in it would it? This is Plath's only novel and was originally published in 1963 under a pseudonym. It's just as bitter and remorseless as her last poems, only it's longer and I think it's an excellent prose - not many writers can keep a hold of their style when making a transition between poetry and prose. I must say though, if you read it you may well understand why her death followed shortly after she completed the book - some writers say not to write about what you know but I've never stuck to that and neither did Sylvia Plath. I shall say it frankly, her life was dark and her writing is dark.

2. Knife Edge - Malorie Blackman

This is supposed to be the sequel to 'Noughts and Crosses', a book which I have not read and I have to say that did not put me at a disadvantage when reading this book. Again a stirring read, one that might even make you cry in places - but also frustrating as the novel ends with unanswered questions, questions left to answer in the next book 'Checkmate'. It's about racism really and the struggle to break the barrier between different ethnicities, it's powerful despite being recommended for 14 year olds +.

3. The Best Awful - Carrie Fisher

I bought this on a spur of the moment at Portsmouth ferry terminal and expected it to be trash - most of those books you grab on the way to catch a connection are - but I was pleasantly surprised by this one. It actually attempted to tackle real human emotions and disorders, without being too jokey towards them. Despite this it is set in Hollywood and it does centre around a famous single mother trying to bring up her young daughter whilst coping with Manic Depression, so this brings it down a little bit - but still worth a read if you're bored I'd say.

4. One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest - Ken Kesey

I've not yet seen the film so I can't compare it to the novel but I can say that I really, really enjoyed it - even more so on the second read when I grasped it better than the first time. It's a tough one to explain and I expect most of you have read it or seen the film so I'll just put it on here because I loved it so much. Oh and if you ever get the chance, it's good in Spanish too...

5. Long Way Round - Ewan McGregor & Charley Boorman

When I saw Ewan McGregor's name and face on the cover of this book I cynically judged it as a publicity stunt, I expected it to be full of actor-talk and mindless conversation between the two friends. I was wrong. The book takes you through every step of the journey made on the BMW Adventurer motorbikes (I can't remember which series) and every problem and honest feeling encountered, obviously written about at the time by both men. Maybe I sound silly but it was like reading the story of two people discovering themselves.

6. Girl, Interrupted - Susanna Kaysen

Basically I read it the first time when I was having a pretty bad time and I identified with it, some of the characters in it - the feelings in it. It's the story of 18 year old Susanna Kaysen who had a session with a psychiatrist she didn't know after a suicide attempt, and taken to McLean hospital to be treated for depression, from there on it's a true record of life inside a mental hospital. It's funny and it's sad, it's frank and it's full of questionable - is she really crazy or just interrupted? As Susanna says; "Sometimes the only way to stay sane is to go a little crazy."

7. Enduring Love - Ian McEwan

Anyone who did English Literature for A Level last year or the year before or whatever will be quite familiar with this book, it's not on my syllabus - I merely read it because I wanted to and because I watched the film when ever so slightly tipsy and it sobered me up so quick I wanted to read the real story. I really loved it, I loved the style and I loved the story. It's about two men brought together as observers of a tragedy and one of the men's obsessive and possessive personality towards the other. Slightly disturbing, but genius.

8. Prozac Nation - Elizabeth Wurtzel

It's the opinion of many that this book is only one to read if you are, or have been depressed at some point - not necessarily diagnosed - but in a dark place for more than a few days. I do not subscribe to this view. I see this book for what I believe it was intended, as an honest portrayal of our culture today and, particularly America's, reliance on therapists and 'happy pills' to get us through a tough day. It brings back the truth of people who may actually need help and how SSRI medication has become just like being subscribed antibiotics for a chest infection. Interesting.

9. Escape - June Oldham

Ok so it's a teenage book, but it's quite a difficult one to grasp. It's marketed for girls as the main character is a female, but I think guys could read it too - maybe not, but hey. It's about a girl in the last year of her A Levels trying to escape from her father, whom she lives with and is abused by. It's about being incapable of opening up to someone who loves her, it's about her running away, it's about her trying to be independent, it's about facing her truth. I guess it's about escape.

10. Taking On The World - Dame Ellen MacArthur

I just admire Dame Ellen, so this first book written about the first years of her life and of her sailing career is an inspiration to me. It's written totally by herself, without the aid of a writer and it's starkly upfront about all the problems attatched to sailing solo around the world, and anywhere in fact. It's not a novel I know, but I do love it.

So get reading...

Espana

Gotta love Spain

Smile

Everybody smile. Today is good, tomorrow may be better...

Stay safe while I'm in Spain.

xxx

Home

So, France.

I stayed in a four bedroomed, shuttered house in Epron - a suburb of Caen, with a family of three consisting of Jean Marc, Lawrence and Elsa. Each day I got up at 7:30am and waited 45 minutes for Eilidh to get out of the shower, before having the quickest shower on record and leaving the house at 8:30am. We had to take a ten minute tram ride, which we had to run to catch every single day, then a quick walk to our classroom for three hours of oral french lessons with Christophe before heading off to lunch at the Caen University café thing which - for a three course meal - cost an average of 2.50 Euros! Pretty damn good.

Each day after classes we went to random french places like the War Memorial Museum (not my favourite...), hypermarkets, Boulangeries and a Ciderie. One day we went to Paris and of course did all the touristy things like the Musee d'Orsay, the Louvre, Notre Dame and of course La Tour Eiffel. I'm not ashamed to say that I did buy a beret and a little statue of the Eiffel Tower...

I can't actually write anything I wanted to write, loads of funny stuff happened and there was of course the pimp bus and Joe asking Catrin what she liked to do with her chocolate...It really is amazing what you come up with in a foreign language without meaning to, I personally said that I ate myself for breakfast - not easy I promise you - and the innuendos were actually unbelievable.

On the last night, awards night at the restaurant I was awarded, the Mothering Award. Can you believe it? I mean if a label on someone's jacket is sticking out, I have to tuck it in. If there's a hair on your jumper, I must take it off. If your hood is crooked, I must straighten it. Ok maybe they have a point.

I was made to eat french cheese, that was awful. On the last day at school we sat round the tables and ate some absolutely disgusting cheese, it stank and it was gooey. I was forced to drink cider to get rid of the taste. I am not a cheese person. Cheddar and english cheese I can handle, french cheese I cannot.

Vive la France

Mes amis, je vais aller au France pour une semaine entre le 19 et 25 mars.

I shall steer clear of frogs and keep my eyes peeled for snails.

I suggest you do the same.

It's true

I write this in bed, in my sleeping bag, under three blankets and under my duvet. I'm a voiceless mess. I suppose this is why they tell you not to get out of bed until you feel better when you have the flu, but hey - who said I ever did what I was told? Anyway that's not why I'm writing this, it's a spur of the moment thing and I had to get out of bed and go all the way over to my desk to get this laptop so it better be worth it.

I want equality for women, don't get me wrong, but this post may not live up to my feminist reputation - or maybe it does - I'm not entirely sure what constitutes feminism now. I have probably said a million times that I didn't want any guy to protect me, I said that I could do it myself and certainly didn't need any tall, dark and handsome to watch out for me. Yeah that was rubbish, what the hell was I talking about? The truth is I do want to be protected, of course I do, I think everyone does really - whether they admit it or not is neither here nor there.

I might also have said that there was no way that I would ever cook, clean or tidy up after a guy. Well anyone who met me will know that I do tidy up and I do clean, and I do - sadly - enjoy it. I would quite happily clean the house and obviously I would never ask the guy to wash up - he might not do it right - just like he might not keep everything straight or in tidy piles. I have to have it tidy, so would be more than content to do this on behalf of a man. Actually it would just be to make sure it got done.

But the thing is I would do exactly the same for one of my female friends, in fact I do - I do start tidying their rooms and asking their parents if the washing up needs to be done, so it's really equality. The fact that I'm willing to do it for a guy just shows that I'm doing the same as I do for girlfriends. It's providing for people, I like providing for people - I don't see why I ever thought I wouldn't do it for a guy when I'd willingly help out my best girlfriend. What can I say? I don't think things through sometimes.

That's pretty much all I had to say really, in fact I didn't even really need to say that, but it was quite a revelation for me so I felt the urge to share it with y'all. :-)

Expectations

Philosophy/Ethics - Module AA, AX, AY - B

English Literature - Module 1 - C

Well who said expectations were to be fulfilled?