WARNING. DODGY TYPOS FOREVER.
I've wanted to write a blog on this site for so long, and although i'd prefer to hide it away on my profile, i see that so far, this is the best and only place i can write in that keeps my work within this site. I also don' want to write on the other sites i know, and provide a link, cos those peoples comments do my head in. They're always criticising things i say without even foremost appreciating that i've honoured them by sharing what i think in the first place. Noone has to read this blog. If mods want to close it then i am happy for that to go ahead, although i've checked the section that says what belongs here, and it doesn't say anything against creating a blog. That's my disclaimer over. I hope this doesn't go bust. It could create a perfect haven for me if i get it right. Bless you all.
I got out my bed and into the shower at midnight. Couldn't help thinking that cinderella would have been wrapping things up around about now. Some friend had called me and was wondering if she should come round. We've been spending alot of time together recently. She was considering bringing round that "True Blood". I've watched a few episodes with her. Well she hasn't appeared so i guess she changed her mind.
Damn. Thats her callin me. This blog can wait.
I'll type as much as i can till she comes round. Well i brushed my teeth in that shower, as i do, and thought about many things. I sang and thought about all the crazy things that have been happening lately, and how once again i'm in that increasing spiral that is telling me i don't know much about anything around me in my life. I'm a bit lost. I might gather myself again.
ah.. She's just messaged to say she's broken down at home already and her mum's back now and has prep talked her. That's good. She's gonna stay in her bed. Guess i can carry on.
When i got out, i did my usual; put toner on my skin and leaned out my old bathroom window into the night air, to let my pores close, and to breathe in the tasteful, natural smells that linger out there with the ever changing seasons. I sang a little. The sheer emptiness and crispness of the atmosphere meant that my voice drained out very quickly and didn't travel far. It paled without any accoustic bounce. A damp night i should think, to do that to it. It all sounded very flat.
I loved to see the lights out on the horizon. And the darkness that surrounded the rooftops, and encased my big, back garden. It is not a modern one. It makes for a very pretty view. Incandescent. I wanted to be out in it. It struck me that it had been a long time since i had stepped into our garden alone at night. So i set it upon myself to do so. I pulled back in the window, came down, and slipped on some basic nightwear and my fake fur coat and shoes. Then i went out to the garden.
I'm telling you. It makes you think things when you are out there. Even just being under the bright moonlight at all. This lunar turnover has been very bright. Did you see the moon on halloween? Twas very round and white. Tonight the moon encompassed the whole sky, with few clouds even drifting by in firth. Light was cast on everything, enough to give the illusion of day, in a somewhat darker world. So mild. I wasn't cold, even though my hair dripped in long slathering tails. I stood alone on tha back patio, making myself aware of everything around me, including our lights, and the neighbours lights, and the complete silence of the untouched, unmoved garden.
All i could hear was dripping. The trees and gutters nearby, trickled with old, clearing rainfall. It was very weak, but i liked it. The blossom tree hung heavy with soggy leaves, most of which had fallen to make a colourful tread ALL over the lawn and steps down to it. I could just make out the coppers and tans that made for a deep footed step, when i lowered my shoes into them. I wasn't afraid of making my feet cold or wet or dirty. I loved it. Do you know that the other day i left up at dawn and went a walk in the woods with nothing other than this same coat and a lengerie set on underneath it? The light was barely showing through the forest and i wandered and talked to myself out loud in most poetic form. A true moment of freedom and thought. Anyways. I did love that garden.
But then i tuned into small backround noises. The ones that you get used to tuning out here. It was some sort of police chase, or ambulance. And it had been going the whole 5 minutes i was out there. Far away somewhere in the distance. But not far enough that it didn't make me contemplate it. And i wondered on what i wanted to wonder on. It was partially why i came out into the garden. I wondered how safe i was. what those sightings are that people report. If one could approach me now. If someone could come and kill me right now. Why people don't step out into thier gardens at night in general.
I wondered on the spinning police cars i could hear. I wondered on how "innocent" i really am. I used to kneel to God in the shower. Now i was looking at the moon, wondering about paganism, and what this whole universe means. I guess i conclude that if God is trully the source of it all, He'll come for me again. I said out loud that i don't like the idea of those things people report. And it beckoned me back into the light of the house. Still i felt the mildness of the air. And as i stood infront of the porch to go back in, i longed to stay out and sit there just a few more moments. I could go back out right now. But propriety tells me it's not good for me somehow. I stepped into the porch, and just as i was about to slide the door closed, i heard the rushing wheels of a heavy car, fly down the road behind ours, and cross the bottom, with a loud splash through puddles which must have formed there, as it passed and moved into silence.
Last edited by Fantasia; 01-23-2010 at 01:31 AM.
I had the most interesting day yesterday. It's early morning. That's when it started alike; yesterdays story. Maybe it doesn't mean much to you, but it's beautiful to me. Jani says that there are so many moments full of beauty in this world. He is right.
So i woke up about 5:30 am, and whiled away the hours till it became civilised day, then had a bath so that i could be ready for going out swimming with a friend. She never picked up her phone. It was the same one who'd been having troubled nights. Well my stomach was SO ill. I'll need to take some of those strong probiotics again just now. Better not forget. See my sickness has flared up again cos i left it untreated when i became tired of chugging so many pills and powders. But i was in such a state yesterday morn.. i was in die off state cos id overloaded myself with the stuff.
I didn't feel like swimming any more. And something got me down real quick. My mum stressed me out enough that it became too much and i snapped while sitting infront of the mirror. I realised by the time i was all dressed, that it was already past noon, and i'd done nothing. I got real down. I just felt ill. My friend had bailed and my body was being a bitch despite me working to break my nocturnal habit, and get out for a day. I sank down onto a sofa arm and began to talk to mum, who i have to say was great.
She reminded me that it really isn't my fault that i'm in this state, and that there were people waiting to spend time with me all over the place, i just needed to take them up on thier offers. She talked to me about God too. Cos i'm confused about Him. And that just pisses everything down the pan when it occurs. Well at least she comforted me and helped me to just clear my mind so that i could push myself to go out and make something of the day. What is there to do for a girl who has no ties and noone to do things with? We shall see!
When i got into the city, i was once again overawed by all the faces.. hearing all the languages and seeing the bustling movement. I love it. I skipped merrily along and then decided on where i would go. SHOPPIIIIING! WEEEEE! And so i walked past all the rich designer shops, and went into Princess Square, which is lovely. A grand work of architecture indeed. I wound the banisters and peered over the big, wooden carved balconies to watch the babies play in the centre. I love children. i let my imagination run free as i looked at expensive biking boots and haute couture, and strange, dangling jewlery. Really it is so pleasant to be there. So riche. All that fine dining. I walked past a middle aged couple, and tossed a 2p coin in the fountain next to them as i did. She called to me..
"Have you made a wish?!"
"No i never did.. should i make one?? I'll throw another in.. will you make the wish this time?"
And so i reached into my purse, drew out a shiny, new penny with a harp design on it, and tossed it in while she watched. Then she nodded me and i smiled and walked on.
Of course i could never afford anything in that shopping hall. I'm not that high in society yet! So i came out into the cold main street and joined in with the flow of people heading upstream. Window shopping EVERYWHERE! I went to New Look and splashed some wicked cash. Bad girl, iona! But oh those dresses and hats looked devine on me. I got a tiny top hat that sits perched on my head on a hairband. It's so gorgeous on. Very suitable for roleplay. I danced of course, in the changing room, swirling my booty about in those body tight clothes. Loved it!
AND OH MAY GOODNESS! I know i'm boring any poor reader left out there, but i don't care cos these things simply HAVE to be noted! They sold a line of BARBIE merchandise!! I nearly died as i fondled EVERYTHING over and over. Well i bought so many pink things all over the shop. I bought a set of barbie lip glosses. Darling. I bought too much yesterday. I really did. What stupid way to live.
I went into the Disney Store and had the staff laugh at how i talked to them. I sang along to the songs that played while i checked to make sure the kids shoe sizes wouldn't just be able to include mine. I bought a BUNNAY BABBIT! And an ARIEL LITTLE MERMAID DOLL! :O Simply AMAZING! And i bought a minnie mouse bag. Oh isn't it all so "divinde"! I'm telling you, i was tripping over myself with all these silly bags. Too much shopping, darlings. I felt so spoilt and whimsical. A very uncool way to live if you do it every day. I felt guilty for doing it even on this one occasion.
(Other half of blog, which was the best, has been lost, due to SHITTY technical errors that occur all the time in this site with me. Thanks alot.)
I might type up the second half later. I'm so pissed i lost it. Hand up those who hate loosing typed up work....
Rememberance Sunday. The only reason i took part in the minutes silence at 11 o’clock was cos i was sleeping. *insert sad, guilty face here*. I slept all day infact. Yet it didn’t stop the interruptions through missed calls, and mum waking me by talking about trout in the kitchen through the wall behind me. I also saw the day pass; each time stirring to see the light outside the curtian change as the sun moved blazingly, and faded.
I was out last night. My fatigues been catching up with me. I mean.. i’ve noticed how ill i am now that i’ve stopped those medicines i used to take. I just have no energy. It’s worse than my money situation now. I’m skint all round. I can’t spend any energy without paying double for it, like i’m in debt.
So there i was.. in a heap infront of my open kitchen cupboard, procrastinating about what i could make with chopped tomatoes and chickpeas, when this friend came in – the one i’ve been talking about. Someone else answered the door, even though i was the closest. I was too busy looking like a lifeless state. She invited me on this night out she’d been raving about for the last few days. Oh man, how badly i wanted to go out and just dance. I wanted to go out every time she talked about it. There she was, towering over me with her other friend, both smiling at me, and asking me if i could come. I said something about getting a take out and txting them to confirm in a few hours. So i did just that.
One chinese later (EHHHHHH. They gave me extra fried rice and didn’t charge me = BONUS) and one shoddy not even nap later too, i was txting and telling them to call when they called the taxi. I ran about like the mad hatter. Giving me a time limit is like telling a concorde to break the sound barrier. You don’t tell it to do anything! It’ll break it when it wants to ok! So gettoffit! And it’s not even flying any more. So get that up ye. It’ll never break the sound barrier again because of you people. Now. Back to me running around like THE ACTUAL Road Runner.
I used moisturiser to drag off all the old smudged mascara i’d been playing with earlier, before i’d slumped so badly i looked like THIS WOMAN:
Then i went mental and just redid all my ACTUAL BARBIE makeup, YEEEHAAAA OOWW btw. Ughhh. So much pink. SO much. Class for me that i’d just been on that reDICKulous shopping spree (that has no made me skint so i’m taking half of it back), cos i simply lifted a perfect new dress and matching shoes out of the pile and shoved them on. Didn’t even buckle my heels. Stupid hold ups showing from under the ass of my dress. Why do they make them so short these days?! I had to pull it down all night. Cept for when i couldn’t be arsed. They called, and i stoted out, looking PREDDIEE in purple, gold and barbie pink. Oh ya. I felt good. And the tags were still sticking out of my head cos of the hairbands i’d shoved on. We bundled in, and set off, laughing.
Friend Cassa (i’ll call her, just cos cassa sounds phonetically and readably pleasing) was being so silly and funny, cos she’d drank a whole bottle of wine. She really is an entertaining drunk. Not at all a perstering or depressive or downright pratty one, like some i’ve met. OOPS. Said too much. Anyhoos. I don’t get out much, i’ll confess. It’s that bloody fatigue doing it to me. I’m not familiar with the outside as i should be. I gave the man who i was supposed to pay my entry fee to, my jacket, cos i thought it was the cloakroom. WELL WHATEVER! I forgot that you had to actually pay to get into these things. I was going to give him a pound anyways. Get off. Whatever. Sniff! So... We got in, and drank, and they drank some more, alot more actually. And some more. And i drank one more. And they drank six more. It was like a forest of glasses all containing the same drinks. Some coke thing. A table full of these coke things. I watched the club. Human behaviour is so compelling. I couldn’t keep my eyes off the people. Skinny girls, who some people on RPG would simply fire into, but didn’t seem to have much brains (no offence, i know that’s mean), that wore HIIIIGH heels. Girls were generally naked, or near enough. Some were bBIG, but still tottered in heels. The guys were generally idiots. Sorry. I know thats judgemental.
EEEHHHH. Makes me sick. Some other girl had MY dress on. And she was wearing some leggings underneath. Fine then. Don’t have your ass showing like mine. Makes me SICK. On with the show then. I ran off to dance.
Danced alone duh. I don’t let people come near me. I pulled faces at the ogglers, and moved to where i felt better. Sometimes Cassa and her friend would come up to dance silly with me, but the crowds grew thicker and thicker. It got to the point that you could tell how much money people had in thier wallets/ what phone models they had cos they were all rubbing off you so bad. People seemed to know each other in massive networks too. Easily done. It was a local club, that regulars went to. Done up, but still ..... hahah Sorry!!! Ughhh. At one point all these guys kept trying to dance with me. It was like some ugly alpha rivalry. I ended up in the middle of this strange circle of bidders. Then the perfect tune came on.
“All i wanna do is BANG BANG BANG BAYNG! CLICK CLICK KACHING! And take ya money!”
And i went round shooting them one by one with my little gun hand. Pingin thier shirts and dismissin them in time to the music. I beat them with my dance moves even though i gave them room to show me up. The black hustlers even laughed cos i mockied them and did it well. YA SUCK THAT. I think i freaked the whitie teen boys out tho. I told one that was sitting next to me earlier, that i wouldn’t even go out with a white guy till this year. I would have only dated middle easterners. So why would i EVER take someone out of a downbeat place like this? His friend was alright tho. He let me take sips from his £8 cocktail. All tedious man stuff aside, it wasn’t a bad night. Until....
The freckin ex shows up. EH. I aint talkin about no ex of mine. I’m talkin.... CASSA’S EX! Don’t you know i’ve had to practically keep her ALIVE the last month cos she’s been so distressed over what this guys been doing to her? Oh gosssh. No no no no NOOOOOO! It was bound to be a disaster as soon as he appeared. I was half expecting this to happen to the night. But Friend Cassa had no idea it was going to occur. She went into total shock. Me and Cassas friend watched her move over to him almost immediately, and get her verbals weapons out. Do you know how many times we pulled her away from him? How many times they stood near each other on the dance floor, pretending not to care about each other, while both us groups of friends tried to keep them seperate. It was like some movie. Except for the typical INTERRUPTIONS of dumb boys slipping thier hands round my waist and trying to whine on me while i was CLEARLY in the middle of defending this lass in a war zone situation. GET AFF MAAAAAIIIEEY! GOSH. SAKE.
The night got only MORE DRAMATICER. While in the middle of loosing this friend every 2 minutes, inbetween prep talking her and escorting her in and out for air, although not actually leaving the club because she was insistant AND undeciding, the twatty boys of the house, began to loose thier inhibitions. Women beaters do exist. We had ourselves knocked to the side plenty, by twerps who thought they were on a mission to the bar. I didn’t let any of them go. Some were decent enough to apologise. Others pulled neanderthal faces. I’m sorry to be so hateful over people. I know there’s no excuse. Well sure enough. Cassa went out to weep. We sat with her on the streets and then she wanted back in to pee. Friend # 2 stayed outside to wait for this lift she’d called, while i went back in with Cassa, keeping strict eyes on her. EHHHH WIT! How the hec! She literally pissed off so quick after she washed her hand from her piss. I turned round and she was gone! I raced out the toilets and she’d clearly made a dash for it, cos she was nowhere... I scoured the place for her. SO bloody dramatic. I went back out to see if Friend # 2 had her. NAW. I was told that i had to go back in asap and find her cos we couldn’t waste time with the lift coming and all. I went back in, apologising much to the bouncers. I felt like a local girl, taking part in the pointless, heartfelt endeavours of a usual mockstock Saturday night.
Next thing, some raving on drugs boy totally laid into his 5 th person of the night, FINALLY turning it into a show down. Loads of other boys jumped in and security was no where to be seen. I was yelling at the stupid boys next to me to get in and seperate them before it got really out of control. Some people on the other side were good enough to try. I had to keep yelling until i just went in myself and wrenched a couple out. Then i pinned them as far away as possible, from thier enemy, as you do. I can’t believe it took me to do that. That club was just full of mad with it teens. We should have gone somewhere more upmarket. My only aim was to get to my friend who i could see over the other side of the floor, in total disorientation, sidelining with this dratted ex of hers. I had to pull people apart and climb over brawling, pinned down boys just to get to her. When i did it took time to get her out. After much lengthy discussion between them, i managed to convince her that it was all she needed, and we left. Friend of Cassa was NOT happy. Those boys who’d been sporting, had meanwhile been literally THROWN out the club, and started sparring on the streets. She was alone and unguarded, and was knocked to the slab ground by them. The police had to order someone at length, to lift her up. A shambles i tell you.
Went home in the lift. Cassa wailing. Friend of Cassa angrily shouting. I was requesting romantic music on radio to be turned over, to alleviate more drama. Cassa sat with me a while in my house, before retreating to her own bed. I talked her through things as best i could. I kept trying to be objective, and teaching her to be. I’ve been through this all before. I know what shock feels like. Certainly her 50 drinks affected things, but still.. she’s allowed to grieve and be confused by his unhelpful actions. It’s disrespect. That’s what it is. I don’t like seeing guys be boots. Lesson to be learned, guys. Gonna just communicate with her if she needs it. Thats all she’s asking for, at the end of the day, when she panicks. Stop ******* running like a coward. And for bloody petes sake. Whoever pete is. Stop telling us you’re gonna join the army. It wont change the situation. *Facepalms*
Woke up today after all that rigmarole. Didn’t feel good. Those presences have returned. I don’t know what i’ve done to invoke them. I mean.. i know that reheating that chinese and eating it when i finally got to chill on skype last night, before i crashed, could have been the reason i was having lucid dreams about obsessively building model boats from balsa wood and straw and chocolate... but do they explain the horrid feelings when i woke up? The lack of peace in the darkness, like i felt the barriers between this world and the spiritual one, far too thin for my liking. I kept getting mental images. Not nice ones. I just .. *felt* unsafe. I actually woke too.. get this... facing this little mark on my curtain. I was like.. huh. A woodlouse (slater)? Wonder what it is.. And i tapped my curtain to see if it would move. Well it didn’t. Yet when i went to turn the light on, and see what it was... it began to run. I’d been watching a spider in the dark. Right infront of my face. Well i caught it in mums beansprout grower, and let it out, along with the STOOPID, MASSIVE bluebottle, avec ma maw, using team effort, and a series of lights being turned on and off to guide it. Why am i even telling you all this? This blog is LONG. And pointless. Heh. Fact of life. Everything is subjective. Therefore, there are no facts, and this blog entry could just as well be as important as federal papers. That’s not my theory. It’s what they push on me when i start up with my God talk. I’m gonna scout offtopics, and possibly later be harranged by someone on msn. Happy scouting yourselves, folks.
Soon it will be my birthday.
A traditional Palestinian lullaby:
[23:43:31] palestine: yalla naam yalla naam
[23:43:44] palestine: wa adbahloo tayr el hamaam
[23:43:59] palestine: rooh ya hamaam la tesade's
[23:44:16] palestine: badhak ala iona ta tnaaam
"Come now, sleep, come now, sleep.
And i will kill the bird for you. (For you love it's taste.)
Go bird. Don't worry! Don't believe me.
I'm just lying to iona so she can sleep."
Midnight. Tis now 11. 11. 09
Happy Birthday, iona...
15.11.09 1:45 am
The Sewing Machine, the Dolls House, and the third child.
I meant this blog to be about my birthday riff raff, but it never transpired. I'm sure i will be able to grace you with the details of it another time.
Tonight i will tell you three stories. And the third in three parts.
The first story- The sewing machine.
Today i woke late after staying up to watch a bazillion episodes of Prison Break. Well, maybe 8, and to converse on msn too. But i was dying by the end of it. Yet it was worth it. ..When i got up it the light was dipping already. No time to go outside now. No money for nightlife. Well, i'd rest in the house and do something constructive. So i watched the american Office = hirarious, and Hook = "Bangaraaang!" / my world, and Nickolas Nickleby = an enlightening encounter with so many seasoned characters one may come accross in life. Quite educating.
While i watched these i longed once again, as i do, to be constructive. To play the scores i kept hearing. To dance in ballet shoes. To draw a portrait subject who would be willing. To sew with skill. I get cravings of all kinds. And for today .. it had been to mend my corset, bought for me by my mum on my 21st. It looks pretty, but it is only plastic bone, therefore it cannot have been expensive. But from, her pocket it must have cost. She has so little to live on. It was expensive indeed.
I wanted to pull it in at the waist. I've clearly been doing it for two years in my room infront of the mirror, not being able to wear it outside. So i gathered the sewing machine, and some other clothes that needed mending, and set to work. My brother saw what i was doing and requested a favour from me, that i mend his pockets too.
I know it should be so trivial, but this stupid, old ruddy machine really got to me. I don't have any skills. I can't go ahead and persue things like normal people can. I have to make do. I hate my ignorance. I want to excell, but these kinds of obstacles make hobbies and challenges a punishment, rather than bringing the reward others feel all the time, that i witness. I got frustrated so quickly with it. I swore sooo much as i wound the handle to lift the foot of the stitcher as it jammed and meshed threads together. It took SO long to do the simplest things. That damned old contraption just made problems of EVERYthing. It was driving me mad.
I tried to do a favour for my brother, and it was stressful as hell, rather than bonnie and gay. I tried to sew along a curve and it took over an hour. That should have taken maybe 20 seconds. My 5 garments took up that whole night till past midnight. I said that cinderella wouldn't have been so frolicing and merry if she'd been working with that prat of a sewing machine, while she did her chores.
The point to this stupid story is the poverty. I went on a mega rant to my mum, about how when people step into our house, they find the poverty we live in heartwarming and humerous; full of character and memories for them. The reality of it is ugly. It's inefficient. It's wasteful and testing of a good life. It drags us down, it slows us down so badly. When we make moves to fix things, within it's constraints, they're easily made so much worse for no reason. I know it sounds like nothing, a silly story, but that sewing machine is symbolic of poverty. It got to me, how we live here. I went out and walked the dark streets after i was finished, to stretch my legs.
The Dolls House.
This guy i met on the net a while ago (well he actually hauled me aside after a very odd introduction in a public chatroom) has taken a liking to me. He's a freak i think. I can't decide how much of this is positive/ negative. But it's very interesting. I don't know why he's infatuated with me, but he's so scarily sincere about it all, and within a few hours of our meeting(?) decided he wanted me for good. He talks of marriage, and the kind of sex that makes me cry. When i told him i would cry he said that would turn him on. I'm highly confused by his interest in me, because .... he is witty, completely world savvy, academically clever, humerous, and badly behaved. When i say badly behaved, i just mean that he isn't proper like Nicholas Nickleby. Well why the smack is he interested in ME?! He gets angry that i keep trying to convince him it wont work. He wont drop this strange obsession. People like him shouldn't exist. It's not possible. He doesn't even know enough about me. But he's sure, after the few sniping words i've passed to him, that i'm the one.
He's bought me a victorian looking dolls house, hand made, 2" by 3" by 2", and specially created to fit barbies. He said the ones in ordinary toy shops weren't good enough. HULLOWWW. Have you ever seen toy shop barbie houses?!!! This guy is insane. He's gonna keep a toy dolls house in his fancy home in Australia, till the day we meet. Like he believes so strongly in it. His reason for buying it:
"Anything that makes you happy, i want to be a part of it. I want to fulfil all your desires."
I think i need to die for a second. Hold on...
*Gets back up.* Where were we? Oh yeah... in an extendedly LONG blog. So about this guy. He earns around £100,000 a year and wants to spoil me so that i don't have to work another day of my life. He also wants to tie me up and rape me cos everything about me apparently drives him wild. Apparently he needs to meet me for real and then go on a night out in glasgow to see the competition. I will fight him to prove that i'm nothing but a scruffy country maid, and that i REALLY can't handle the crass talk that braces the modern streets, so therefore, we are not compatible.
The third child.
I had 2 brief encounters with amazing children lately. I wanted to put thier stories up on my blog so badly, but me being ever obssessive compulsive, and somewhat obssessed with fate, i was insistent on coming accross the third child before i put my stories up. I met him yesterday.
The first child was one who i heard in the changing rooms of the local swimming pool as i redressed after my time there with a friend. All the children were up to what i used to be doing at that age; checking the lockers for 20ps.
"I've got 60p!"
"Look at how much i got! I got 40p!"
"I've found another! How much have you got?"
And there, after they ran away to the next row, was a little girls voice, no older than 4 years.
"I've got no moneyyy. I don't have annnyyyy moneyyyy."
She sounded disparaged. She was the perfect person to hold hope. She wasn't angry. She wasn't self pitying. She was only slightly upset, and confused about the inequality she'd had to go through. She was left out of a ring. But she was questioning, which is what i liked. She was posing the humblest request out to the air. Her tone was so inquisitive and innocent.
"I don't even have annyyyy."
I knew straight away that i wanted to give her what she was looking for. I knew how much she'd appreciate it, and how much she deserved it for not expecting it, enviously. So i got it together to do my thang!
Pulled 20p out my purse, slipped out my cubicle and pure made for a james bond mission. She was nowhere to be seen, so i pink panthered it along the wall, with my back against it and then popped it out to see round the corner. There stood a preschooler, with a mum too busy to notice me clearly trying to get this kids attention. First i waved. Then i waved and smiled again when her shocked expression remained. To show my reason for acting like a scary clown to her (i must have looked hideously monsterous with my wild hair and red face from the sauna), i quickly pulled out the 20p and held it out to her from my place. She wasn't going to come for it, i figured. Way too shy, despite the beckoning. So i gleamed at her with sparkly eyes, and dropped it on her side, then vanished to be unfound.
"Mummaaaaaay. I have moneeeyyy! Look! See! Look what i have! I've got money naaaaoow!"
I just smiled there, hidden in my cubicle, alone. Her mum laid into her, claiming that she'd stolen it, as she told the story of the strange lady. After enough shouting about her uncouth behaviour, the little girl must have managed to convince her that it was indeed an act of generosity, and that it was meant for her entirely. I only know this because her mum fell silent in defeat.
In our own time, me friend and i strolled out of our changing spaces and went to fix ourselves for a second in the mirrors, before leaving. I was right. I did look like a monster. The mother and child were still there. I talked and laughed with my friend, behaving almost obliviously to them, aside from a happy, "Hello!" said to the girl as i glanced down at her. Me and the friend bantered and laughed loudly like maddies, then made our way out. It was when i'd turned the corner out of sight, that i heard the little kiddie once more.
"Mummaaaaay. That wos the laydie!"
The second child was one that talked to me SO openly, beyond that of one who should at that age. I'm not saying it's a bad thing, but fear of looking out of place usually sets in pretty quick these days. She didn't care.
She was about ... 8? 9? I was trundling up the road with BAGS of shopping, with a smile on my face, like some oddity. And she just kept my eye contact as she strolled closer. Then she hopped and landed right infront of me with a skiwiffed, crumpled poppy.
"I have a poppy!"
For once, I was taken aback. I couldn't think of the right words to say, quick enough. I just said something like.
"Oh! Well.. That's very nice!"
And she had this proud smile on her face, like what i'd said had been a great enough compliment. I half wondered whether she was a samwij short. Her grandfather came up and put his arm round her. Bare in mind they've just stopped in the middle of moving pedestrian traffic and they're total strangers with no reason to talk to me. He seemed just a little protective of her because of her naiivity, which is understandable. She pure pronounced that her great grandfather had fought in some part of some thing somewhere sometime, and i was even more doodlie headed after that. It was like she'd recited lines to me that she'd rehearsed for some school project. That was some enthusiastic interest in the war.
She skipped onwards after smiling at me some more lengthy time after my reactions. And that was it. I don't know what i was impressed with more, her lack of droughty reservedness (the plague of the adult world - social law), for the age she'd reached, or the fact that someone in the younger generation had proved that those blessed veterans will never be forgotten, just as our nation promised.
The third child.
Hopefully this blog entry will end soon cos it's too long. This is the final story and is down, like the others, purely to be a reminder to myself so that i never forget the things i come across each day, and what i draw out of them. I want to learn from my life and them and myself.
This boy had a sister and they were both marching round a very busy, video shop, bustling with students and other strange people. The only reason i mention him, and not her in particular is because she kept running off. She was older than him by 2 years. He looked about 6. They were a bit scraggy. Real children. Not this mini models you see going about today in pristene fashions and with no creative idiocy. I daresay the two children were almost as loud as the three of us acting like TWERPS in there. I kept cracking rediculously loud jokes about dvds that id hold over display shelves to them on the other side. etc etc Lots of foot kicking and "HOIYA!" ing. I suppose i just noticed that this boy kept passing me, and didn't care much either for the social atmosphere that others hold to. He was in his own world, which i liked. And i liked him. He had big curls of blonde hair, and i began to touch them as he stood by me. Honestly i got away with murder. It was crazy. Almost like i was testing how close he'd let me get to him before he pulled a look. Julie pulled a look before it could happen. She pulled my wrist away quickly too as i reached like i did before.
But seriously man. It was too late. This little kid had proved that he was just... them. Those kids. AAAAACH! They're so much more amazing than normal things like paper with words printed on it, or like.. shoes in a shoe holder, or like the poloticiansd on the news. Everything they have is so real! It was amazing. At one point later, i stood looking at a dvd and turned around to see him in a hunch over some other dvd that he was staring at on the floor or wotnot. I wanted to sweep him into an embrace. It was TOO easy. I felt that i should have been his mother... and this raging ambition came back to me, that i should adopt a ZILLION children, because i could love them love them love them with wild imagination and deep, long lasting affection! People say babies are "cute". Or kids are "cute". They coo and say it about them all here or there. But what if you really do love them? And you find them mesmerising? And you grow attatched to them, cos you see things in them that you just want to keep alive. I tell you. I love children. I was so close to giving that embrace.
End of chapter.
15.11.09 22:48 pm
Just came back from dinner round at Julies in the west end. She was clearly knackered but had made a full sunday roast for us. Bean and mum came. It was as usual, a drama. The moment i woke i was called, and from that moment, till the one where i sat down in her flat 3 hours later, i faced a frustration of stagnancy, negativity, and typical bad luck. This has been going on for the last week or so. I'll get back to you some day about that.
I mean. I said, "We have 20 minutes and we have to leave at quarter past." They took an hour. I felt like the house Officer, constantly goading them to GET READY NOW. So this unenthusiastic, tired friend on the other end, who abstained from taking any organisational part in the plans for the day, was going to have to wait for us some looong hefty time; me never knowing how much it was going to try her patience. This kind of stuff happens so often to me. I hate the thought that people see me as some kind of girl who crys wolf about punctuality. Don't even get me started on the tyrany of my younger school days. I hate those memories.
So onwards and outwards. On the way down, an aquaintance, shall we say, joined me in walking as he said hello, and started conversation with me. With all due respect, he is a lovely guy, with no ill intentions at all. But everyone who has spent time with him, knows that there's something loose in there. We met by chance on a cycle track, and he was so enthusiastic, he began to just talk to me there. Now ... how do i put this... I want to chose my friends. I'm very pernickety about who i let into my personal space, that being.. my personal life on a regular basis. I will chose who comes in, thankyou. Don't you noone come treadin in like you own the place. But some people don't have social skills. He stood with us at the train station while we waited an HOUR! for a replacement bus service to come along (another DISASTER) to just talk AT me more or less, with no significant understanding of anything he was even saying, himself.
This was all while my mum (who frequently gets bitter about things) began to snarl more and more publicly having started that on me in the house; having goes at me, one after the other just because SHE was tired of how things have been lately. I wasn't born to wait a useless hour for my brother to pretend to get ready, take embarassing shit from my mum infront of everyone, while even worse, watching her get seriously wound up by a mouthy but happy go lucky ticket officer who we allllll know well, and who mocked her loudly for her sour face, and stand next to a socially inept and suffocating boy who is interested in me and doesn't know how to save himself from the discomfort of being REJECTED by just taking massive MASSIVE hints, while waiting in boredom for a bus service for a train service i'd paid more for. I hence, put in my ipod; the salvation of the younger generation, and tuned out of everything, arrogantly. Mum kept talking to me. He kept talking to me. I just pulled those... "oh yes" lip stretches every so often, while nodding.
It turns out that boy was just on a walk. He wasn't getting on the bus. He didn't have to be there that whole hour. He then asked me for my phone number (he'd been fiddling with this day old phone like he was reminding himself he owned it, the lengthy time i'd been there). I stepped on the bus as he did, apologising for the time constraint for the number, which made me SAVED BY THE BELL.
Got to julies; mum dragging about like life was a chore, and plonked myself down. Mum immediately went to spend time with her in the kitchen to just whine, really. I overheard her blowing off steam about anything that she could think of in that time. Bla bla we ate and all that. Sat practically conversationless, which was NOT how it was supposed to be when i planned it. No offence, but why has everyone suddenly gone so damn damp on me durin this time of meeting up with them for my birthday. Every plan has been a shambles, for the lack of cooperation. It's not even like most people have been mean to me. They've just... been totally blazé. Trying to make dates with people who can't even stick to them when they say they will for starters is a drainer. ANYWAAAYS. Julie never dropped one hint that she was annoyed with me, or fed up. Just that she was worn out, and tired. So i can't hold a thing against her. She really did her best. And i tried not to get in the way. We all laughed and zoned out to Father Ted, ad Still Game till it was a comfortable time to go. Good all round.
Practically the only reason i wanted to write todays blog is this next bit. I don't know why i talk for SOOO long sometimes just to give the backround before i get to the point, but i find it humerous to myself anyways. So SHUT UP! It was this dog. We had to get this bus at a bus stop, but mum bloody wanted milk. She fuckin loves her milk. I'm sick of her tea. I hate tea. I wish it was banned. It's evil and foul and i don't even take normal milk. If she had given birth to milk, after me, she'd favour the other child. I hate when she goes on a bloody milk fix miander for her SKANKETH tea. Sniff. What a rant this is. Anyways. About the dog.
So ehh. I took her down the road to this little local coop and she scooted about to hurry for this bus, coming at any minute. I strolled about and looked at some mags, for older and younger peeps. Then student boys started to infiltrate the place. I grabbed a mag quickly and held it up in an open spread over my face. Too many students. This was getting dangerous. But it was too late! More came. Big tall boys.. actually lean tall boys.. with bohemian glasses and hats on, and urban cool fashion. It was like the place was beginning to turn into a modelling agency. They were all gathering in... like those more monsters on pacman. I had to do something. FAST!
I ran to another aisle. One was there. So i turned back, but one had come round and blocked me off! Damn you! They were beginning to notice my erratic behaviour. And i thought i was hallucinating too, cos i heard my mum calling my name...
I'd lost my brother. Actually he was just looking at stuff in the next aisle. Yeh but still, shut up. I was lost. There was no way out. I had to raid past them while they laughed at me cos this little dog that looked like a hair straightened poodle came and sat just staring at stuff infront of me, causing MAXIMUM DIVERSION! Dr Who is nothing to this. It was me.. or nothing. KABAMMM!!
I bolted for the door, and made it out alive. Away from every single student boy who now knew my face like i was on a wanted poster, for being a weirdo. I had to leave my mum in there. Who knows if she'd get past the till alive.
Then this foreign lady came out. She was all.. "Oh please cood yoo look afterrr maie DOIG. Aie'll owenly bee a courpel of meenutes. Aie'm in theu kiew!"
I was like.. ehh ehh (i have to run for a bus as soon as mum steps foot out) "yes... uhh okay". So ehhh. She landed that *strange* not poodle dog thing, a skimpy wee white, fluffy, shivering whispy doggie, that had too good a nature to just be dumb, beside me. Although it was dumb. Cos i sat there laughing at it and cooing right up to it's face, asking it what was going on. Then i shoogled it about. It let me, and acted like it didn't have a skimpy doggie clue, cos it was too whispy. So i sat there, in the west end, tonight, waiting for mum to finish inside, and made mohekans out of its hair as it looked about and shivered. It was a cyooote little doggie. I went RIIIGHT up to it's eyeballs and said hi, and it just looked around like it was too skimpy to be sitting outside in this november cold. You know they put the christmas lights on in Glasgow tonight.
Anyway. That's all i wanted to talk about. The dog. To be honest. Oh yeah. I have to finish the story and tell you if it all worked out. Yeaaahh yeaah yeahhh. Mum came out and legged it to the stop and i followed with bean who laughed at me laughing at it, but i'd laughed all day at bean cos he's just a bean, so whatever, and we ran after mum and got the bus in good time. And got the train in good time, to the replacement bus, which arrived promplty. And i did sudoku, efficiently all the way home. But apparently my brain train brain age on ds is 58 tonight. Well if it would pick up my writing properly then i wouldn't have made so many "mistakes" (which is my excuse). WHATEVER! I nevur said nuffin or nuffin!
Last edited by Fantasia; 11-15-2009 at 05:54 PM.
27.11.09 4:10 am
I just lost my daddy boy. I lost him last night. And panicked. And got real sad. And i mailed him quickly, full of typos. I can’t remember what i did after that. I slept in time. When i woke i frowned, because i remembered. And the frown stayed on my face as i held onto babbit. I just lay there frowning. I looked for earplugs and when i found them i got back in bed and decided to sleep away the sunny day. I woke and it was late. Artificial light from the kitchen. Didn’t know what time it was, but i eventually got up, and wandered to the bathroom. I kept the earplugs in. I didn’t want to hear reality.
And as soon as i took them out, i replaced them with my ipod shuffle, which i don’t listen to often. And i decided in my hurt, to go to Spin, and wreak some havoc. I listened to fast paced music on full volume. Angry rock and heart skipping techno Dance. Beats thudding in my ears and through my system, enough to block stuff out. I am so low. My opening message in room flirt was, “Hell hath no fury, like a woman scorned”. Then i proceded to violently attack any man who talked around me, and even moreso those who talked to me. It gathered the usual interest. And you notice it’s always the ones who love a challenge that embrace me in these states. I kept on with my music. And my merciless cruelty. Men pmmed me. I slit all their throats. And i rammed men against walls who hadn’t a clue what they’d done wrong. A...Difference found it interesting, and wouldn’t leave me alone. He pmmed me a couple of times. By the third time i let the stupid boy talk to me. Turns out in his own way, he’s not so stupid. He was a computer hacker. And it had made him a rich criminal. He boasted to me for a long time, and taught me for a while.
We talked on some heavy things. I had to leave my computer alone a couple of times cos it got to me. He was dumb sometimes, and had lots to say about me. He thought he could read me. Even so, i found him interesting. But we were so different. Damn Difference. I miss him now. Why do all the real ones leave? He told me that he speaks to Christ so easily, and that God has revealed Himself to him lots over the years. I was shocked because i’ve been so alone in knowing God that way, for so long; noone else seems to have my experiences. But here was a boastful theif, and he’d been chosen too. He had that hand. And he understood the “fate” thing. He’d also had the same freaky paranormal experiences as me. And likewise, since his childhood, as i have. I was so sad to see him vanish as our talk slowed down. We mutually agreed after the hours that we hadn’t a good enough reason to keep in touch. I think we were a little.. saddened? by it. I realised how much i missed him, when he was gone. I told him i would miss him. And so it was done. I’d become attatched to ANOTHER enemy. It’s always my lot. Who are these people? Why do i always connect with them. I came to step all boys down. Not to open into an honest conversation. Not to be reminded of Christ, crazier still, by a million dollar law breaker, and almost cry because of the pressure. Not to want to love another person who somehow, in the midst of all this, i could relate to. And he was fruitful in saying that he didn’t want cheap sex or useless romance with me. Gosh i wish i had kept in touch. He had it largely sorted out in that area. He knows what’s goin on. Why do these people always float past and knock into me, while im trully surrounded by people i don’t really know?
So i’m sad tonight. And so sensitive. I toss and turn again. And get strange flashbacks of when i babysat some baby next door. I grow restless and churn about, calling for daddy. I am so comfy. So cosy. I am soft. I am all these things. But still i’m not content. I’m soooo tired. I feel like i could sleep another 24 hours. But i already did and ive only been awake for 6.
Daddy wont play with me and my dollshouse now. I wont touch his fingers. Or try to make him food. Or.. uhh. I wont be able to hug him ands lide down him and kiss his belly. He used to say things to me that no other person would dare to. But who will say them to me now? Granted i wouldn’t be able to satisfy him, poor man, cos i am not like him. But i do want to love him. And now he’s out the scene. Like the rest of them. It’s just me and babbit now. Again. But oh how i wish i could spoil a daddy with hugs just now. Where will i ever find a new one? I’ve never met a man who actually demanded me to be called so, like him. I didn’t even ask for him to come into my life. He persued me.. like the others do.*Mourns like a girl.*
28.11.09 11:36 am
Am i the oppressed, or am i the oppressor? Amidst all the weird and wonderful things going on around me, and with me, i’ve been thinking. About alot of things. Or maybe just certain things, alot. I’ve been watching Prison Break. I was sick. Real sick. So badly sick the last couple of weeks. I’m out of it now, but at the time i had to stay in bed and just sleep for most of the hours of the day. The only times i woke were to pee and maybe eat a little. I would sit... for a while.. and watch something.. then sleep again, in the soft lamplight. This is my room. The haven for the depressed rapunzel. I was actually very content. But sometimes i broke into tears because of the pain. Or because of the stress of my unknown future. I hate the thought that i might never be normal and healthy. The fight to get my life back is so daunting. Nevertheless, my rosy cheeks still bloomed in those softened covers, as i lay curled and dorment.
I would semi pray. I’ve been semi praying. Where is God? Why is Jesus so non existant these days? Science science, demons and miracles. My friends keep experiencing strange things. We’re all living in it. Those extra terrestrial experiences. Yet God is none to be found. Did i tell you the story of Dr. Myhill? You don’t even want to know the coincidences going on in my life. They are scary and paranormal. I don’t boast like its a fun thing. It’s subtle and alerting. You feel like you have to turn to watch over your shoulder. Sounds stupid to you.. but this one day.. those couple of weeks ago.. i was sitting on my bed... slumped back almost passed out.. watching this Prison Break.
“She’s already dead.”
Then it froze. My mind recapped. What had just been said? Where was i? Oh.. the tv.. the dvd was stuck. And subconsciously as i lay there staring at the serious scene it was frozen on.. my mind reeled the words over and over to me repeatedly. “She’s already dead. She’s dead. She’s already dead.” I was too weak to sit up and fix it straight away. I just had to lie there and take it.. Then the dvd jolted and started working again. Just that moment there was enough to make me stop and raise an eyebrow and stare at the screen in thought.
The next week. I’d been in thought over things. I was in a solemn state. I was to the point of being helpless. I couldn’t move really. I hadn’t showered. I was so weak and worthless. I needed help. But there was noone i could turn to. My brother was cruel to me. He treated me badly thinking i was milking the situation and that i wasn’t sick. (when i say sick.. i mean an episode of my M.E. like fatigue and pain etcetc.. not a cold or flu). My mum had just about cottoned on that i needed things done for me. But my friends were far out of the scene. People weren’t thinking about me. Infact ..... people were being very selfish. And now that i was cooped up in bed and not answering calls... they’d forgotten i existed.
So i was there, ready to break.. lifeless weakness, impressioned. And then the dvd....
“Listen.. If you ever need someone to talk to while you’re in here.. you always have me.”
Something like that. Something very close to that. And it scratched to a stop again. I lifted my head and the words replayed as they do when my mind works out the last thing that happened. “If you... while you’re in here.... You have me.” Over and over. And the screen was frozen. I just looked at it. I was so taken aback. Why was it stopping so relevantly? I broke into tears, overwhelmed, grateful to be remembered even by Him, if He was there.
If God is out there.. he’s talking to me. I spoke some few humble words to Him. And lay in those tears. It happened again maybe last night. The screen froze. I forget what it even froze on now. It’s like i’m taking it for granted. But it spoke to me directly again. ..That was it. It was a call. A dream. The boy dreamt he was hammering nails into the roof with his dad. And he said, “I know this isn’t the end. When i woke... i knew i was going to see you again, dad. ‘Just have a little faith.’ ” And tonight id just been wondering... when i’m gonna see God. When my beloved will show His face again. Will i ever see Him again? He always does this to me. I hate that He goes away from me. I hate when the people i love leave me. I hate it so much. .. Oh by the way. Daddy came home. The other one. The one who want’s me in my bikini.
Listen. If you’re reading this. I’m not really very well. My words will be under a negative tint. I’m missing opportunities to tell you about the cooler things that have happened in my time. Cos i either sleep instead of blogging... or talk to strangers on the net, to gather some meaning from life.. through strange connections. I mean... there’s so much i want to work out. But i don’t have the words to elaborate on what i’ve been thinking on. I want to know if i am indeed the oppressor. I’m rich. If you’re reading this.. you’re rich too. There are people starving out there. Am i being a hypocrite cos i don’t give my money away to them and equalise those who can’t help thier position? Who am i? What scales should i use to measure who i am? Am i really so dumb as i am convinced i am? Am i really so oppressed? Am i allowed to cry? Should i buck up? Am i able to or will i faint like i did the last time? I want to learn. There’s too much out there to fight with. Too much info to take in. And who’s to say who’s lying and whats to be kept and installed and what’s to be ditched as lies?
Just there i thought on my old moroccan lover again. He was my demi-god. And i don’t know WHY i always seem to be in touch with some keyboard and the rpg site when i’m thinking about him. It makes me look like i’m obsessed. I just wonder tho. Damn it. I have LOVED people. Very deeply. What for those who are lost? Ghosts of people, now only memories. I have not stopped loving this man. What for when dreams are shattered, and in the past the splinters lie? They are not gone. They are real. Still alive. You can’t forget thier face. Thier voice. Thier touch. Thier movements. How thier mouth coyed their vixen smile when you shared a look with your eyes only. How can these things be absorbed into nothing? Shattered peices! Wuthering Heights!!
I might just be under my peak. Scruffy and a little depressed. Worn out by exhausted adrenals or whatever. I am what you say i am. But i really do want to know where the graveyard lies ...for broken love ties.
I went to the hospital durin the week to get a short synacthen test done. Thats to see if i have addisons. Even tho my private practitioner has just sent me a letter saying that he thinks what the nhs gps are saying is “just silly” regarding my being “normal” with my thyroid and adrenals. I sent him off my blood test results, photocopied. Anyway. Whatever. Pop some pills. A Hell of a lot of pills. Ughhhh. And i’ll get some energy back. The time in the hospital was funny by the end of all the slumping. There was blood dribbling about everywhere. Senile people were wandering in on us all the time. This man kept singing songs and making up half the words, as he joyfully scrolled about in his wheelchair around the WHOLE ward.
One moment it was -- “For God’s sake!”
Then the next sing along line followed ----“Jesuusss Chrrist was boorrn todaaayyy!”
A minute later all i heard was ---“A ye wee bastart! Ehehe ”
And then some chats with the staff about what time exactly they got off from duty.. which had to be repeated to him several times loudly, as he recited it incorrectly back to them each go. The conversation went on like that. Classic.
It was quite amusing to listen to. Much the same as was the last line i heard in the cinema at the end of watching Twilight for the second time. Not lost you there? Hah.. (The first time was a weird experience .. full of alcohol drinking women, who kept swooning creepily around me, and cheering and whooping to torsos being shown. I sank into my seat and cringed at how my sex was behaving. And more than anything... i wanted to BE those strong boys. Rather than be held by them. I wanted to run against them. I cheered at the fight scenes. And laughed inapproprately at the serious ones. I guess something about me differs to those girls. The cinema was FULL of them. Those other girls. Who i’m not.)
So back to the second time. Last line.. coming from this boy right along from us on the back row where we sat:
“Ahhh AWAY YA GO YA BASTARD!” Hahahah. Only in Scotland man. That was the audience reaction to the ending SPOILER---- > when edward proposes to bella.
I don’t have any more stomach to ramble on. This blog is full of nonsense. My posts hold little meat; little to the point. I’m a BEAST! RAWWWOUUUUR! I’ll eat you yeah!
[yt]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gx8EO3yrAuk[/yt] <<< Click me
DAMMAT... What is this?! *Walks in with a look of disgust.*
I said.. *Cue -Walks in CASUALLY*...
Not: *Walks in. Cue Casualty*. Can’t get anything right, can you?
*Cut’s the music with swooshing of hands and calls the board of directors to complain briefly.*
1.12.09 02:18 -7 Degrees Celcius.
So much passes. It’s hard to pin it all down. *Get’s out the tacs.* ....*Puts em down after a couple of moments to skip rope with the figments of my imagination.* Ahhhh Feels so good.
Now where will i start? I gotta try remember. All i know is that.. it was following on from my last blog, that i felt like a pile of nothing. I was real beaten down. I decided on AFFIRMATIVE ACTION. So after staying up all night i kept my body going into the next day. And i gathered the last of my money till my next payment, to go get a HAIRCUT! Hahaha. Wotever. Suck on it. A girl needs her locks tamed once in a while. Mine were wild. Tugs, down my back. Strange colours still traced from the time i dyed it vermillion red. Haaaahahaha! Woop. So thats what i did. I went to get it hacked. And clean this sorry state i’d become, up.
Went my way walking in dirty clothes, down through the town, to the place i was meant to be at. They said i’d have to come back in a few hours if i wanted a standby. So i thought quick. Where to go to wait? I was gonna sit by the river, till i realised that i could drop in on my friend who lived just round that corner i’d wandered to. She’d been calling me in those days i was passed out. She was in! And welcomed me to sit and join in the fun with her and a six year old she’s been babysitting since she was a bairn. They played harmonica and watched disney, and showed me paintings they’d done.
The girl was so inspiring. She beckoned me to bounce on the bed with her! We tickled each other and jumped about on my friends new double devan. She was in freedom and joyful paradise. It gives me goosebumps to even think about it. I went from low to haaai in her world. Outside was so cold. But she took one of those crazy head massage toys and so oddly sat me down, and brushed my hair and massaged me with it and we giggled and played and tickled each others feet with it. Children just don’t care. They’re so forward. I shiver thinking about how much she pampered me in her wisdom. I was so shy. I had to cover my eyes as she massaged me. AAAAAA! Imagine letting go on a child!?! Like she’s your pure personal counsellor! I had to hold myself back. Powerful stuff.
It was time to go. My friend was of the same agenda, and was out to some cosmetic appointment or other. So we went back out into the cold, me feeling as mingin as ever, and we bid farewell to each other.
I had to wait in the salon for ages. I didn’t care. I listened to the BEST trance and techno pulse music while watching such cool designer videos on a widescreen, and reading through mags. When it came to my turn i cringed as the salon lady took my huge coat and *sniggers* my SKANKING 101 dalmations cuddly comfy sweater. Ahahaha. I had to stand up for her to initially cut my hair after it was washed. It was so long. Gosh it all still gives me shivers. Being pampered so much. She just cut and cut and cut. And when our eyes met, she smiled.. a genuine smile.. cos it stayed when she looked away and went back into her own world. I asked her what her ideal job would be. She said...
“This is all i’ve ever done... ” I knew she was happy.
“No, leave the fringe blunt! ;D”
I wanted such an edgy look. Something completely different. I was practically fainting, fading away in this seat, but out of nowhere, i aquired this AMAZING BLOODY HAIRCUT. I didn’t even know my hair could do that. I looked like some doll. I thanked her, and told her she should be proud. I cringed once more as she lifted out that dumb huge sweater. God, it must have stank. Aahhaha *dies* Then i paid.. and skipped out the place, with my hair just rippling in the bitter wind. I started to skip and step to the melody of a song i can’t remember any more. I was singing out loud. Kids seemed to notice me. A little girl looked up and smiled at me as i passed, and i grinned back. And this boy in his push chair told his mama i was walking on the wall, and pointed. Ahah awww. Babies!
Then to my astonishment. This taxi driver we know a little by face, he went to my highschool, pulled up after waving back to me at a set of traffic lights a while back. Get this. He wanted to give me a free lift home! Ahahahaha! Cos he thought i was so pretty! Ahahah WAT. NAWWW! I was like.. eehhh. Joking? Right? He just showered me with complements, and even remembered where i stayed, cos of this ONE time he took me and mum and dad to and from this piano recital. We sat outside my house, while he kept on all dashing. I was just so overwhelmed. I thanked him and got out. Man. I needed some sleep.
THEN. Phew man. You couldn’t make it up. I had a bath. Fell asleep in it. (I actually felt my head tip to the side as i lost consciousness.) then i woke up and scrubbed myself to ****. Wanted to get this body CLEAN! Wanted to be my BEST. Picked and preened, jellies and creams. And i came out smelling peachy. Looked out some darn dolly sexy bedwear and was just about to log on to talk to my favourite darlins, when i got a call.
That same friend i’d gone round to earlier wanted to go to the cinema! I was like “AHOYYYY! Let us go then!” So i ACTUALLY bloody scraped my VERY LAST pennies and pounds together, having the exact amount necessary to get only UNO cinema ticketo. YALDIIIIIIII! YEEHAAA! But i had to be ready in moments. They were heading over NOW. I leapt up and tore off those dolly laces and got something pink from somewhere and bla bla bla. Next thing we were in the skinnyma watching none other than NEW MOON. Ahahahahaaha. Oh man. Ahahahaha. That’s the third time i’ve seen it now. It was still just as poigniant this time around to take in. I love it. I gotta admit. I love slagging it. But i’m loving it all the same.
(Bare with me, Twilight haters!)
♥ Bella sits in the chair with some really cool camera effect and best ever done for music.
♥ Any time Shark Boy is around Bella, cos he’s so cool. Shark Boy FTW!!!! I’d love to know Jacob, if such a boy existed. Fixing motors + always warm + thrill seeker + temper = YO! HOTTIE! Taylor on the other hand, is not that boy at all. Don’t get crushes on the actors, girls. They’re very different off screen. (Eg follow the story of Leo DiCaprio after Titanic. He was a hearthrob. But he wasn’t no Jack.)
♥ When Shark Boy talks that random line to Bella in another language. So romantical. I love real talk in other languages. When it flows without them doing it for show.
♥ Bellas eyes as a vamp. Etc etc. Loads of stuff. Now on with the story! Wootish! This chapters too long already.
So what else … bla bla. Usual dancing in the cinema toilets. Ehhh. Man it was SO foggy as we came out. The mist was EVERYWHERE. It was SO atmospheric. And there was a new moon out. Perfect. I just loved the whole way the night was going. I’d eaten so much of my birthday chocolate in that theatre. I thought i was gonna go home to sleep.
*Breathes.* THEN. I had these friends send me this link as we talked on skype (my ritual wind down to almost every night). You could broadcast yourself on it. You on webcam and mic… to whoever would tune in. Well anyhoos. I skadged about trying to set up an account and get some mic working. (It never happened. My mic is well broke.) I ended up sitting infront of my cam writing hilarious messages on paper, so that people could read instead of hearing me. I’m tellin you. I didn’t intend it this way. But it was just crazy how it happened. More and more people started tuning in and I just sat there laughing so much until I realised I could really entertain these crowds. I dressed up and performed on request. Games, gymnasts. Regular costume changes into all my funnest outfits. IT WAS FUN!!! I put the lights out and gave them a strobe poi dance, so they could only see the flashing baton swinging, and I played majorettes with another baton thing. And… and!! And!!! And it was fuuuuuun! People were so nice to me! But then a skype friend got me and was alll wuwuwuwhuuuu and it cut my fun. I wasn’t being bate ok. I don’t flaunt myself that way. If im being sexual you’ll ****** know about it. Why would I ever make a show of myself in such an intent? Get lost. Whatever. It dampened my night. But the crowds cheered me up and I loved them very much. They typed all sorts of weird things. Two guys that seem to own IRCs or something.. sites or something.. they were saying all these words to me.. “Trolling”. Are you a troll? I don’t know what they are. I was so flattered when they explained that I’d done an amazing job of holding and controlling everyones attentions without even having sound. I feel proud man. I was like… “Gee… Thankyaw.” I'm serious. They thought i was some net player. One of these people like that computer hacker i met the other night. They bookmarked me.
Bla bla what else.
Oh hec. .. The party. Do I have to tell you this bit? Ok, those who are bored with the blog already.. just go home. I’m struggling too. But I wanna get this stuff down. I don’t wanna loose these memories. *Sniff.* So I was at this party then, last night. I literally slept in the latter event of all those shinannigans, got up the next evening and scuttered about like a mad hatter, getting ready. My friend, birthday girl… remember Cassa? She was all nervous cos she was gonna host this party in her friends and everyone she needed to rely on, was running late. Heh. What about my birthday, mate? Mine imploded. Anyhoos. We got our act together and got out. Me, I took my cherry wine. My 4 little bottles.
They all played drinking games while I observed their stupidity, as we all waited for the flat to fill up to the brim. Cold cold cold. I sat against the radiator. Soon enough it was bustling. People were pouring in and the music channels were being flicked about on the loudest volume. I reckon they were all younger than me, bar Cassas friend. I don’t care. As long as they have mental maturity. Few did. One was born in south africa. He spoke afrikaans. So cool. He showed me his amazin grafitti work, in amongst his other STUPID phone pics. Then there’s my main man from my old church. He is SO cool. Man… he’s just got it. He’s like the ultimate cool kid. But he is a total dummy. He’s so energetic! I laaayke him! He gave cassa a birthday card:
“To my husband. Happy Birthday.”
Kay! Good times! So we all drank and danced, till the floor was a mess, and people were all over the place, the usual dramas starting up in various corners. I helped this boy who was barfing, for a while. Then I found my brother in the bath, with a similar samaritan trying to help him out. We got him tucked into bed. Beautiful Bro. I love you boy. Sniff. Huh. Earlier on I put on this lip gloss, and this mad teen boy was going round kissing EVERONE and hugging them. He’s a scream. He saw me and went to kiss me.. I was like. AAAA! He closed in, and we ended up holding that kiss for a moment. It was hilarious. Neither of us expected it to happen. The others who saw it were like… :O One who I’d been hugging was all like “what?!”. Well whatever. That’s what you get for tickling me so I squirm on your lap. How was I supposed to know I was riding up on you when I wriggled?!!!! I thought you was clean on me. I knew that guy through Cassa. So back to the HIRARIOUS random kisser. We spluttered about the flat. Falling about and kissing, laughing and being public. He was 17. I’m 23 man. Ahahahah hahahah. Hahahahahaha. He hoisted me up and I cracked a party popper over his shoulder as we pure launched into being STYOOPID.
He was so nice. We fell into the dark room my bro was sleeping in. And as soon as we got in we just calmed down and agreed… “wanna go back out and party?” “yeahh! Wooo!” ahahaha. So we joined the others back out there. That same boy is now txting Cassa and trying to date her. He ended up being her prince for the night. He’s so sweet man. And such a laugh. In mccyds later he was telling us these REDICULOUS stories about how he set himself on fire and fell into a river which saved him. He had no hair at all on his body afterwards. Not even eyebrows. And he told us about how he went to Millport with the boys and fell asleep in a rockpool. ROFL! ahahaahh.. And Cassa later told me that he got £8000? compensation for criminal justice, cos these neds went at him and he didn’t fight back and it was all found on cctv. Him walking away and then having to defend himself when they attacked harder. Good boy! I’m glad He wooed Cassa. She was pure making a public scene as well. FUNNYYY!! The boy was too merry. I’m tellin ya. Ehhh. Turns out tho, his brother has it for Cassa, so he’s txtin her too, at the exact same time as the other bro. And she’s standing in the middle of them like ZOMG!
This really is a ramble. But at least it holds value for me. So the rest of everyone stomped about to Mariah Careys “I wanna know what love is” (wed got tired of joining the massive emotional ring in the middle of the room every time the song came on), and we continued to wander the flat. To see what was up. EHHHHHH whats this now? The boy who’d been really good with hugs. He took me into this other dark room to tell me about this indecent threat he’d been given by this over jealous guy. It’s all true. He was innocent of that. But not of what he got up to next. Proper working his stuff on me. I’d tanned my last bottle of cherry juice. And I’d already fallen face flat in the kitchen. I was REALLY tired. See. Not that it’s an excuse. But I DO get tired. I just pass out on people. It was happening again. I’d already been lying all over my friends earlier. I started to slide down him in that room, and let him kiss me, cos he was jealious of the other boy. I didn’t know what else to do. I was hugging him for warmth. He .. well he just wanted down my top.. and whatever.. *sighs*. I know this guy. It was bad. He should have seen. I should have offended him and got out. I just wanted to be warm. I was getting ill. My friends burst in on us, but we were standing, and i was covered, with no sign of how bad it had got. I was so glad they’d interrupted it. But the looks I got. What had *i* done??!! It wasn’t fair. They dragged him out for a “word”. And I got some serious talk asking where he was when I stumbled my way to sleep at the foot of the bed my brother was at, for safety. He woke because I was singing softly. And got up to party some more, after laying me where he’d been.
Bad rest. I don’t sleep well in other peoples beds. Specially when I feel wrecked, and I’m cold. And bad shit has gone down. I sang on my back and got up after a while of silence in that dark. I dreamed of those people I love. BE ONE OF THEM! READER! Join me. I got back out in the party. Tried to remain neutral to kis kis lap boy. People went home slowly as dawn came. And after all the final songs repeated after the fifth million, ughhh we went out in taxis to get that mccys I talked about. It was ****** coooold. I was so ill. Damn hug boy. I NEEDED them. I wasn’t good alone. Lucky there was another huggin me. Mind who’s team was he on? There was a lot of mix ups over mccys. Most of the people at the party work there, and they had to go key fetching cos the manager that day had forgotten theirs. Hug boy offered to start work early. I got in a race car and sat being held in the back, for warmth. They waited outside while we went the run just to stay in the heat. I saw strAngel running with me outside of the car window. They asked me what I was doing when I sang and held my palms to the glass. One of them said I was so trippy. That I reminded them of someone on a drugs high. I watched strAngel run.
Time passed. We ate In the place. Hug kis lap boy was away working. I made an origami flower with this paper that kids are supposed to do puzzles on. Of course id done the puzzles too. I kinda wished that the fun boys left, had been my real crowd. The ones there at that table. I dunno. That’s life. Princes are sometimes far away, so you have to survive amongst those who will offer you what they wish to give. And you gotta be careful how they play. Cos they have wishes too. Sometimes they can get forceful. Or whatever. Selfish. Neglectful. Bla bla. I was a wreck. I’d declined so bad. They stumbled back into bed.. the girls. The boys went home. It was the core of us left when we got back. Oh... somewhere along that time.. i asked what had happened with lappy hug hug boy. Why the stern anger. Turns out he had a girlfriend of 6 years. .......
I slept all day today at that friend of Cassas. I slept badly between a couple of people who were terrible log like sleepers. They crushed me. I was in the middle the other way up. It wasn’t pleasant. I began to wish myself out of it all. This is the other side to partying. I heard them all getting up. I was still paralysed with these damn adrenals. I heard them watching tv. Going out for food.. coming back.. cleaning up.. doing loads, while I just lay there .. a TOTAL state. I wont even go into the details of how much I needed a shower.
I got that shower. Way later. When we finally headed home. That’s me here up to tonight. So my story is just about finished. Don’t even have anything wise to say on it. It was only an account of what was going on. Plenty of stuff I missed out. Peoples tears. Youngsters being foolish and them getting up to sex in the back garden. It’s all much to be expected. We on the other hand, were all now In this house. I showered as SOON as I got in. Felt so good baby. I washed it all away. Smelling peachy again. Ebs and flows. Peaks and troughs. We sat about. Ate pizza, I fought with my mum, cos I couldn’t handle the smallest things she was doing that pissed me off. I didn’t mean to get so angry at her. I was clearly drained. Nearly in tears for the simple reason that my cortesol was nearly at nil. We sang happy birthday to Cassa over a chocolate gateaux and candles and cream. Watched True Blood. Watched Flash Forward. Watched Southpark. Watched The Office. It was all good. She went home.. somewhat down im sure. Can’t get thro to her. And this house has it’s own depressing ring to it when it’s on it’s tilt. We talked about how the dollar and pound are going to collapse. And I panicked. I want to fly out with what money I have, and clasp the hands of those I love, before it’s too late. Socialism is coming. It’s gonna be bad. It’s a horrible way to end a blog. As you can see… I’m as ever.. up and down. Listen to this. I’ve been listening to it on a loop since I sat down here on my bed 4 hours ago. It’s mainstream. But it’s already wrapped up into memory trigger so much of what I shared with you. I’m gonna sleep now. Or talk to friends and strangers. I bet there are so many more memories I could have recalled. If I only had a better mind. Doubtless you’re all more concerned with what goes on in your own lives. Play on.. music.. food of love.
Last edited by Fantasia; 11-30-2009 at 11:19 PM.
I woke VERY late today/night with the worst headache ever. I'd stayed up till noon. So stupid. I'm so exhausted. Right now my stomach is misbehaving. And my body in general is acting putrid. Well i didn't mean to be antisocial by not joining mum in watching The Blues Brothers in the front room. I just couldn't make any sort of company of myself in the state i was in. Plus she was slobbering over buttery corns on the cob. It was boggin. Anyhoos. I decided to come to my room and watch a cheesy dance flick- Turn It Up.
I must say, it impressed me. It wasn't just the realness of the main characters relationship, but the genuine amount of talent in the movie. There were ballet scenes everywhere. Real, inspiring ballet. Gosh it made me want to go back to the ballet soooo much, and it started to grasp me, as it so often does. I got flashbacks...
I remember when i was about 5 years old, we ran away to a refuge in england. I think it was in York. We stayed there for 6 months. As i watched 2 sisters wrestle over a leotard in the film, it brought something very vivid back to me. ... I was obviously the poor kid in that school i went to. Primary 1. The youngest class. It was a grand old building, much like a boarding school house. To signal for playtime, they used to ring a real bell, a hand held one. There were old wooden walls and floorboards and staircases. Lunch was so basic. Very monotonous and bad for you. They gave block beads out instead of dinner tickets. But the teachers were soooo kind.
My teacher was like a mother of lambs. She was sooo maternal. NOTHING like the battle axe teacher in my other school up north. The difference was astonishing. Wallace was state of the art, snobby, over efficient to the point of pushing the children without care on thier emotions. The teachers were so over professional. Cold. A high acheiving school. This one down here was... old. Rustic. Real. At play time we would all go down into a garden. A looong garden with many levels. It was so stimulating. I remember how the children would flock round the teacher who sat on this wall. One time i sat there. I was shy. There were red ants down in England. And one bit me. I cried and she soothed me. It was sunny out. Lots of delicate foliage and shrubbery that could only belong in blooming English gardens.
They didn't push us to get grades there. Math was about me going at my own pace, to learn and be encouraged. I'd pick out laminated cards and fill in the sums on them, then the teacher would correct them and tick them when i was done. And all i'd have to do was pick a new card out. It was so simple. So straight forward. Wallace wasn't like that. I was threatened there. In primary one. Starting when i was only 4 years old, i was threatened.
I remember when it came to gym in the English school, i would always run to this little cupboard, and pull out the most 118 shorts you ever saw. All the other girls had leotards. I can't remember the boys outfits. But the girls looked SO elegant. Nothing like the modern sesame street looking kids up in Scotland. I must have stood out so much. But it's funny how i never questioned my lot. Of course i longed to be like them. But i never asked why i wasn't. I know that teacher knew what was going on in my life. In my mums life. She was soooo gentle. Almost like she knew how sensitive the situation was. But i didn't know she knew more than me. She was looking after me.
So we skipped mats, and jumped horses. And played chase in the hall. Till the day i had to leave. You know... i don't even remember informing people i was leaving. I didn't have a say in anything. I didn't know why we couldn't go back for my dolls pram when we left our house in Scotland. I didn't know the timing of this departure either. But someone did, because i was told that the girls had something to give me, as a going away present. I was singled out to stand as the girls walked nimbly forwards with thier arms out holding something. Two infact.
Two leotards. I accepted them graciously and couldn't believe i was now the proud owner of a real measure of that life there. I mourned that they had not been given to me at the start. I felt slightly annoyed by it. One was off tint turquiose. And the other navy or black. Those children had never made fun of me, or pointed out my differences. They instead, collectively spurred me on. (At least as far as my memory allows me now.) They had included me in thier class there.. and i was SO grateful. But i was never going to join them properly, in a leotard. I was never going to be seen in them. I kept them till they pinched into my skin, and didn't fit me any more.
That was one flashback. Then came the next. I watched as the girl, Kate, spoke at her audition in the film. She mentioned never having formal lessons. And yet she stood in line with the top performers from the best schools. Now i don't profess to have any complete talent. But DAMN do i have potential and i know it. When i was perhaps.. between 7 and 11 years old, i would dance to Kylie Minogue and horrible 90's music like Spice Girls, and Bonnie Tyler and Tina Turner etc etc with my friend. Thank her dad for some of that mad record collection input. I had no real grasp of modern music. My mum listened to organ music and folk, and Songs Of Praise. Nevertheless, i had always my escape to that friends house, which i invested in EVERY DAY. They had everything i didn't. Her mum tried to include me as much as she could in every way. She really deserves honour, despite the weird ideas that family have held about me over the years. (They seriously think i was the bad influence on thier girl! They were DEAD wrong.) Anyway. Enough on that. This is about what we got up to in thier living room.
So we'd be dancing. And the family would have visitors round. My friend and i were SOOOOOOO SOOOO odd together. We really were a strange pair of girls. For one we had many worlds together, and dived into them no matter where we were. And we were exhibitionists at that. We would frequently role play and act out scenes, that bewildered strangers. We found thier confusion hilarious. The family were mormons and often had visitors like missionaries. The american ones loved to watch us entertain and would take pictures even. When we got older, they started to fall in love with her. Not me. Heh i wasn't gonna join that church. It's a cult as far as i can see. A very cleverly watered down one. But this isn't about cults. This is about what we got up to in thier living room.
So we would dance. And they would clap. And you know, simply from watching my friend, and the usual tv productions and picture books, i could imitate everything she'd learned in her tap ballet and jazz lessons. People couldn't tell us apart. They had no idea i'd never been to any classes. I KNOW i had what it took. I have the right frame even to this day, for dancing. My friend's has changed drastically. She has to fight to keep weight off. Funny how life rolls. Well her mum would tell me... "Oh Iona.. if we were any richer, i'd have you join her in her lessons. I wish i could give you that." I will NEVER forget her thoughts for me. They mean the world. Thankyou Linda.. i wont forget.
I get a flashback now as i tell you those other things... to me lying in bed with a good friend of mine. We were talking about deeper things, and i was telling him about her, my childhood sister. I said..
"I started to paint and draw things, and i wanted to learn art. Her father bought her a massive art set. I grew passionate about dance, she was sent to dance school. I decided to collect porcelain dolls with what money i would get for birthday and Christmas, her gran began to give her more and more of them each time they met. In school i took a core subject in music, to sing.. i joined the choir and another one.. to perfect my voice because i loved it so badly. She was offered private lessons, and accepted them. One to one tuition. The list of these things is endless. Why is it that every inch of my potential is rubbed in my face by others being given what i strive for?!!"
He said to me very clearly, "This is something i have learned in life. God is fair. Where somethng is missing. Something else is given. To some, God gives the means.. the tools to gain talent. To others, he gifts them.... so that they have it already." I was flattered. And i agreed. I agreed with him that i shouldn't be envious of people being given all the things i want, so i can excell. I know it sounds concieted. But those of you who have ever witnessed another being given what you've fought for, will understand what i'm saying. In the end.. the real piss off is if they don't appreciate it's value. And they toss it aside like an arrogant school kid with education, or one who treats thier trophy partner like shit. Pearls to swine.
Well anyways. Towards the end of the film i just grew so passionately connected to the ballet and the whole set up. I just longed to dance like them. I missed it. I cried as the final scenes played. And when the credits went up on my widescreen, showing a girl dancing in the margin, i couldn't help myself. I knelt up to the edge of my wooden frame bed, and clutched it, staring at the moving images, taking in the music. I just cried. I want it so bad. I don't even know what "it" is. Self expression. That perfection. I wondered if there is a heaven, and if there will be a milenium reign. And if i will ever get the chance to persue those things i love, and feel the release of achieving my dreams. It was so perfect watching the romance between the lead characters. It was like adam and eve. The way it's meant to be.
You're gonna laugh at this. I've gutted myself to it too. It's me playing after the film finished. I was actually doing a bit of not bad, so i decided to film it to see my technique etc etc. But the shoes began to hurt, and by the time i was captured on cam, they were crushing me too much. I've actually torn some of my skin off. I was stumbling about on real pointé to Swan Lake's The Black Swan, featured in the movie. I made a video i made straight before it, and one after it too. Much the same. But as it progressed i got more and more frustated. In the third one i weep. So i don't want to show you it. The first is too short and stupid.
You might wonder why i chose those random shoes. They are the only ones that have such flat toes that i can seriously stand on my toes perfectly. You can't see it, but inside them my foot is completely vertical when i lift. I'm just in my jammies. And the headpeice is nothing. Just me playing as usual. Go ahead and watch me messing about. I can assure you, that had i a dance partner, a wooden studio floor, and some real slippers, it would have taken better form. It really is a stupid video. You wont know how frustrated i felt tho. You'll just laugh. xx Bless. xx
Last edited by Fantasia; 12-02-2009 at 04:09 AM.