Goodbye 2011, it's been an interesting year.

This was my year of change, of moving out, going to university, gaining some Independence, living with my boyfriend.

My year of firsts, first serious relationship, first car, first licence, first love, and of many more things.

This year I learned to drive, I discovered cooking, I began to feel like an adult, but I also learned how precious (and fun) being a teenager is, I only have one more year of it so I might as well enjoy it while I can.

Overall, it has been wonderful, full of ups and downs, of anxiety and happiness and stress.

It's been a good year, and I hope I can say the same for the next. (although I hope it doesn't go quite as fast as this one did)

Happy New Year!

Sometimes, for a brief moment walking down the street, I find myself feeling all alone. A silence settles over me, and indeed the whole world; I am walking the earth after the Apocalypse, and I am the only human alive.

There's a sense of giddiness and glee there, I can do anything, go anywhere, and no-one will know, there's no one left to know.

Then a car passes on the road, the faint strains of an unsure pianists fingers reach my ears, a dog barks

And the illusion is shattered.

Late late late at night, all quiet in the house, gone tenpin bowling and found out I wasn't bad as I won the first game. Laughter and fast cars, racing on the motorway and winning, stupid why are we doing this?

Beer, beer, and now i'm alone-champagne to forget my sorrows.

I know everything will be better in the morning, but not right now.

Never right now.

Busy busy busy, back at uni, so many assignments I don't know how I'll get them all done, I've got everything from Xenophon's constitution of Sparta to the autobiography of Frederick Douglass (An american Slave) going round my head.

I feel like I'm learning exponentially, I'm just not sure my brain can keep up with it. Sometimes I think I'm in a time bubble, everything seems static, my life moving so fast and at the same time, no-where at all.

It's a year this month, me and him I mean, so much has changed since this time last year, so very much I know it can never be the same again. Mostly I think it's in a good way, but some things I think I may grow to miss.

Empty empty words. Why am I writing all this? None of it means anything, none of it says anything.

I wish I could write like I used to; sometimes I think Uni sucked all the expression out of me.

The way is shut...it was made by those who are dead, and the dead keep it. The way is shut...

Yesterday I went to the Paths of the Dead, and truly it felt as if the men of Dunharrow were coming out to greet me, the whispers filled my mind until I could think of little else and so clearly it resembled what was in my head..

Night Revellers

Interesting, I thought I had lost the ability or thought to write poetry, it's been over six months. But tonight, listening to the drunken passerby's beneath my window even in the midst of deep winter, I was inspired; by what, I'm not quite sure, I guess that's up to you to derive what meaning you wish.

The drunken shouts of weary passerby’s

Float across the window, piercing my rest

The night so vibrant with their cheerless cries

Their clothes now sodden from their drunken zest

I watch them far above as from the street-

I see them stumbling, miseries confessed

As floating to my ears they should just meet

and yet I cannot heed their garbled tongue

shackled as I am by deepening sleep

Into the farther reaches, I am hard flung

into the deepest dreams of ecstasy and delight

Into the regions of the endless night

Four days until the dreaded day. Two exams on Friday.

I'm trying to study but I think my motivation jumped out the window about two hours ago and as for my brain it keeps going into cooking tangents which doesn't really help me explain the themes of blindness and seeing within the play Oedipus.

Never let anyone tell you Greek myth is good for kids to read. It is the most screwed up thing you'll ever come across, the number of people who killed each other and then cooked their kids, or had incest with their mothers and daughters is just creepy. I will never look at Agamemnon the same way again. Not that I ever looked at him in the first place (could be difficult) but metaphorically speaking anyway. And I haven't even looked at the Anthropology material for my other exam, which can just wallow in a cupboard until I have time for it.

On a side note, I'm reading the Unseen Academicals by Terry Pratchett and gosh, it is good. The fact that one of the main characters is called Nutt just epitomizes it for me.

And for some strange reason I'm craving Indian food. Rather badly.

Ah, Oedipus is calling to me, I really do need to study how he accidentally ended up killing his father and sleeping with his mother...and I thought Ancient Egypt was bad.

Wish me luck!

A Five year-olds Mind

They're all arrayed out in front of us, the colours of the rainbow, in order. The packet must hold about twenty of them, all different colours and better yet, flavours. There's chocolate and strawberry and apple and blackberry, we have't worked out the others ones yet, but we will, given a little more time and munching.

Half an hour later and we both feel pretty ill, we think we might die but we are trying not to discuss that possability, it's too dire. So we lie on my pink carpet groaning in misery and trying not to think about it instead.
We have of course by this point decided we sorely regret our actions, but we have also worked out that the chocolate one tastes the best. The nibble marks are more obvious on that one.
Feeling somewhat better, we carefully pack away the multi-coloured set, ready for the next time the inclination strikes us to consume the flavourful objects.

We are five years old, and have happily eaten our way through my flavoured lipbalm set.

Baths

I had an epiphany today.

There I was, mourning the passing of summer and the creeping fingers of winter, lamenting the changing of seasons to my friend. We were both freezing, unused to the chill breath of winter, when one of us struck upon an idea. A bath!
What could be better then taking a hot sweet scented bath when the cold overcame you? It was a splendid idea.
However, then I remembered the shortcomings of baths and indeed, why I took them so little.
Boredom.
Alright, so I get bored easily, so sue me.
So when you first sink into that warm lovely water it feels like heaven on earth, your worries wash away and you are surrounded by warmth. But after a while, you get too hot, and bored, and irritated and it turns into a whole fiasco which is too bothersome to go through with.
So I don't take baths.
But then, my friend struck upon an idea.
"I'm going to go read by awesome book in the bath now" she told me smugly.
I blinked. Reading? In the Bath? How odd.
"Won't your book get wet?" I asked stupidly.
There was a laugh, "No, you hold the book above the water and read. Haven't you ever done that before?"
Suddenly a world of possabilities opened up to me. You could read in the bath??
Spectacular.
I immediatly rushed to try the novel idea, and found it wanting.

And that my friend, is how I discovered reading in baths.
Try it, you know you want to.