Saturday, 29 October 2011
I am such a teenage girl.
What can I wear to the Arctic Monkeys....
So... this outfit is the most likely. Fur coat, David Bowie top, black leggings, and Creepers. How cool am I? Seriously though... I feel like shit. I am just lying in bed with a hot water bottle watching shit tv on my laptop. WHYNOW?
Thursday, 27 October 2011
I look in the mirror and see a ghost.
You know... I am going to change myself. A new me, not a bad idea.
So...
Project New Scarlet
Step One: Image
So...
Project New Scarlet
Step One: Image
- Individual style
- Fur coat
- Splashes of colour
- No completely black outfits
- Classy, simple makeup
- Cool jewellery
- Red hair (curly/straight)
- Nails always painted
- Charity shop clothes
- Velvet
- High heeled boots
- Read at least 2 books a week
- Experiment with new music
- Walk/cycle places instead
- Draw/ paint more
- Watch more movies
- Write a story
- Become a vegan
- Cook more
- Ignore all humans
I have a gorgeous faux-fur coat. It makes me feel like a princess.
I am becoming a vegan! I have decided on it.
God, it is just so fucking exciting. So basically no meat, fish, dairy or fur. Oh, but leather is never leaving my life. Seriously, my leather jacket is everything and all the shoes I like are either suede or leather. But other than that, I am now a vegan, or starting tomorrow anyway.
I feel so happy now.
God, it is just so fucking exciting. So basically no meat, fish, dairy or fur. Oh, but leather is never leaving my life. Seriously, my leather jacket is everything and all the shoes I like are either suede or leather. But other than that, I am now a vegan, or starting tomorrow anyway.
I feel so happy now.
Is everyone on Blogger a American Christian mother?
Keith Richards snorted a line of his father's ashes. Ok... slightly fucked up.
Okay, so different people have varied opinions on drugs. I think it's fair to have your own view, if you don't want to do drugs, smoke or drink then that's is good for you, but don't be an imposing patronising bitch to people who do. This isn't fuelled by some person doing something annoying, I am merely in the mood to voice my opinion on this subject. I have never done drugs, that doesn't mean I don't plan on doing so in the future, it just means at this current time I haven't. I have drunk and smoked because I felt like it and wanted to do so. I have friends who have not, and I respect their decision. It is when people think it's all right to use the fact that you have done anything against you. Well...
I don't like people. I really don't like self-righteous people. I hate liars.
Okay, so different people have varied opinions on drugs. I think it's fair to have your own view, if you don't want to do drugs, smoke or drink then that's is good for you, but don't be an imposing patronising bitch to people who do. This isn't fuelled by some person doing something annoying, I am merely in the mood to voice my opinion on this subject. I have never done drugs, that doesn't mean I don't plan on doing so in the future, it just means at this current time I haven't. I have drunk and smoked because I felt like it and wanted to do so. I have friends who have not, and I respect their decision. It is when people think it's all right to use the fact that you have done anything against you. Well...
I don't like people. I really don't like self-righteous people. I hate liars.
Wednesday, 26 October 2011
My mind winds webs in the still of the night.
Every time I feel that I'm drifting off into a serene slumber some new tale of murder or mischief forms in my mind. It is extremely disturbing. I do actually enjoy getting some sort of rest, so I do not feel like collapsing constantly, and so I might be able to tolerate someone without imploding. Actually, today I had a decent day, due to the lack of talking required. The gallery was amazing I adored the installations in the Pipolotti Rist exhibition, George Condo was fucking dreadful in my opinion though. But the video projections were brilliant and inventive. It was just what I needed.
I feel like writing a story, so I shall, I will not fool myself into believing it'll be half-decent, but I will continue to write it anyway. Just on the off-chance I may be able to get to sleep if I do. Well, here's the beginning of a story.
I feel like writing a story, so I shall, I will not fool myself into believing it'll be half-decent, but I will continue to write it anyway. Just on the off-chance I may be able to get to sleep if I do. Well, here's the beginning of a story.
My mind is bleeding.
Seriously, I am covered in hair dye.
I feel like I'm dying though... there is nothing I can do to make me feel some sort of emotion of joy. It's like my emotions are being pushed towards the surface, one tiny comment will set me off.
I hate my family. I hate my friends.
My mum will pay to get my sister's hair highlighted and done nicely. As for me, she doesn't even like me dying my hair with stuff from Superdrug, and there's no way she would pay for it.
I feel like I'm dying though... there is nothing I can do to make me feel some sort of emotion of joy. It's like my emotions are being pushed towards the surface, one tiny comment will set me off.
I hate my family. I hate my friends.
My mum will pay to get my sister's hair highlighted and done nicely. As for me, she doesn't even like me dying my hair with stuff from Superdrug, and there's no way she would pay for it.
This title will never get written...
God... I haven't been on for ages. I would love to say, "Oh, I've just been so busy," but then I'd be lying and God knows I already do enough of that. I've seen a few friends, but due the fact that not many people actually like me enough to socialise with me outside of the institution, most days have been spent wallowling time in my room. I'm actually feeling relatively upbeat, it is dreadfully shocking.
I have plans for the rest of the week, not that they involve conversing with other human beings, other than Friday, when I shall be going to Borough Market with my brother. But today I will dye my hair red. Because the other day when i said I'd dye it, I changed my mind and did other things... and after it is fully dyed I am going to an art gallery, alone. I'll probably wander round London taking photographs of architecture for my art. Still, it actually sounds like a tolerable day, and thank god I don't have to go to the art gallery with friends, I hate it. They always ruin the art and get bored far too quickly, meaning I don't have time to appreciate it all fully. Perhaps I shall walk to the gallery, it is not too far away, and that would give me a very interesting route to do some photography and listen to music.
Talking about music, I am going to see the Arctic Monkeys on Saturday, which is going to be magnificent. I'll probably just gape at Alex Turner adoringly for the whole concert. Still, my brother and I are taking my little sister and her friend, so that means we are sitting and it won't be nearly as exhilarating as standing, but i don't care, the music will still be there. So there's something to look forward to till school begins again. Fuck.
I have plans for the rest of the week, not that they involve conversing with other human beings, other than Friday, when I shall be going to Borough Market with my brother. But today I will dye my hair red. Because the other day when i said I'd dye it, I changed my mind and did other things... and after it is fully dyed I am going to an art gallery, alone. I'll probably wander round London taking photographs of architecture for my art. Still, it actually sounds like a tolerable day, and thank god I don't have to go to the art gallery with friends, I hate it. They always ruin the art and get bored far too quickly, meaning I don't have time to appreciate it all fully. Perhaps I shall walk to the gallery, it is not too far away, and that would give me a very interesting route to do some photography and listen to music.
Talking about music, I am going to see the Arctic Monkeys on Saturday, which is going to be magnificent. I'll probably just gape at Alex Turner adoringly for the whole concert. Still, my brother and I are taking my little sister and her friend, so that means we are sitting and it won't be nearly as exhilarating as standing, but i don't care, the music will still be there. So there's something to look forward to till school begins again. Fuck.
Friday, 21 October 2011
Tuesday, 18 October 2011
My sister is a little manipulative bitch.
I have given in to my addiction to Pepsi Max. I am a fat ugly pig who can't stop eating. My sister is 50000 times prettier than me.
Monday, 17 October 2011
Life update. Because everyone really cares.
My hair actually looks half decent :)
My mum said I looked like a Gothic Victorian Ghost and that I would be hospitalised if I didn't stop drinking so much caffeine. :/
I have a 3 tic tac cases full of sleeping pills in case it gets too much. :(
I pretend to go out shopping with friends when I'm actually sitting alone on buses reading... just so my parents think I have a social life.
I like red lipstick and black clothes. I think that's all I'll wear for now.
My mum said I looked like a Gothic Victorian Ghost and that I would be hospitalised if I didn't stop drinking so much caffeine. :/
I have a 3 tic tac cases full of sleeping pills in case it gets too much. :(
I pretend to go out shopping with friends when I'm actually sitting alone on buses reading... just so my parents think I have a social life.
I like red lipstick and black clothes. I think that's all I'll wear for now.
Sunday, 16 October 2011
Life. Is. Not. That. Fun.
Fucking Hell. I need some Pepsi Max.
I have a hairdressers appointment book for today. I hate the hairdressers; they always give me disapproving glances on the state of my utterly-insane-matted-mess-of-curls. Still, I'll get it trimmed because my mother wants me to (shit it won't be the perfect length anymore) then I'll buy some bright red hair dye and go home and give myself a bit of a makeover. Fun.
My wrist fucking hurts. You know when you cut and the actual blade causes no pain anymore? Then you realise that you've fallen back into the vicious cycle of self-harm. I thought I was over this petty little personality defect. Fuck. I really just deserve to die right now.
I have a hairdressers appointment book for today. I hate the hairdressers; they always give me disapproving glances on the state of my utterly-insane-matted-mess-of-curls. Still, I'll get it trimmed because my mother wants me to (shit it won't be the perfect length anymore) then I'll buy some bright red hair dye and go home and give myself a bit of a makeover. Fun.
My wrist fucking hurts. You know when you cut and the actual blade causes no pain anymore? Then you realise that you've fallen back into the vicious cycle of self-harm. I thought I was over this petty little personality defect. Fuck. I really just deserve to die right now.
When you grow up people seem to condemn imagination.
I like to act as if I am still 6 half the time. Do you remember when you were little you could pretend to be imaginary creatures and everyone would think it "cute" and you could run around building little shelters and messing up thing because you were only young? I wish that you didn't have to grow out of that. I seem to have a slight peter-pan complex. I don't understand why people disapprove of imagination and fantasy, and seem to believe that is only for naive little children. Imagination and creativity fuel the mind.
I remember when I was 11, and in year 6, everyone else had moved on from playing games in which they were magical creatures or where they created fanciful worlds and places. Then there was me and my little group of friends who sat in the corner of the playground conjuring fabulous stories in which we were fairies or mythical mutants. It was amazing, I adored doing that, even then it was a break from harsh reality and you could be free and childlike.
It seems as time goes on less and less people approve of take breaks from actuality. No-one plays creative games anymore and less and less people read. I know that my elder brother doesn't even advocate fantasy novels, saying that they're not real literature and just for children. I obviously appose this belief.
Still, I think I am the only teenage girl I know who spends her night building a little shelter in the corner of my bedroom, and sleeping in there. It is my favourite place, it has all the necessities. Such as music, lights and books. I also spend a lot of time sitting alone forming fabrications in my mind.
Anyway, on a Saturday I have something called The Literacy Scheme. Which is some organisation run by my school to help Year 3 kids learn to read and write better. Basically, I am mentor to a little 7 year old called Tia, who is amazingly adorable. It is quite possible that I this is the only part of my week I enjoy, except the frickin' teacher in charge of my group hates me because, I quote, she thinks "you shouldn't be teaching them to become disobedient and to disrespect authority. Just teach them how to read." Anyway, I fucking hate her, but do enjoy teaching.
I have bought myself some new books to read over half-term. Mostly fantasy horror stories.
I remember when I was 11, and in year 6, everyone else had moved on from playing games in which they were magical creatures or where they created fanciful worlds and places. Then there was me and my little group of friends who sat in the corner of the playground conjuring fabulous stories in which we were fairies or mythical mutants. It was amazing, I adored doing that, even then it was a break from harsh reality and you could be free and childlike.
It seems as time goes on less and less people approve of take breaks from actuality. No-one plays creative games anymore and less and less people read. I know that my elder brother doesn't even advocate fantasy novels, saying that they're not real literature and just for children. I obviously appose this belief.
Still, I think I am the only teenage girl I know who spends her night building a little shelter in the corner of my bedroom, and sleeping in there. It is my favourite place, it has all the necessities. Such as music, lights and books. I also spend a lot of time sitting alone forming fabrications in my mind.
Anyway, on a Saturday I have something called The Literacy Scheme. Which is some organisation run by my school to help Year 3 kids learn to read and write better. Basically, I am mentor to a little 7 year old called Tia, who is amazingly adorable. It is quite possible that I this is the only part of my week I enjoy, except the frickin' teacher in charge of my group hates me because, I quote, she thinks "you shouldn't be teaching them to become disobedient and to disrespect authority. Just teach them how to read." Anyway, I fucking hate her, but do enjoy teaching.
I have bought myself some new books to read over half-term. Mostly fantasy horror stories.
Friday, 14 October 2011
I am such an artist.
Just to prove to... myself, I am going to be an amazing artist.
On Sunday, or Monday, or everyday of the week, I am going to go and have a fucking arty day. I will go to the park with my art-filled bag and just be cool and indie.
Contents of my creative and fantastic bag:
I think I will probably walk round the park filming the most disturbing things I can find. Then I'll probably do something with smashing glasses and burning objects. It will probably be about a philosophical life of some person that does not genuinely exist. I don't know. I will draw and paint and scream. I have never really created something imaginative or through a medium such as film. Maybe I'll force some of the people I can actually half stand to help me out. I'll see if anyone's interested.
Eugh... this actually might keep me distracting off slashing my wrists and wallowing in self-pity and hatred of my family for a while. Shame I have no-one to help me complete it. I can predict that It will be shit and I will end up loathing every minute of time I wasted on it.
On Sunday, or Monday, or everyday of the week, I am going to go and have a fucking arty day. I will go to the park with my art-filled bag and just be cool and indie.
Contents of my creative and fantastic bag:
- Camcorder
- Compass (no-fucking-idea-why)
- Pencils
- Pens
- Sketchbook
- Novel
- Ipod
- Notebook
I think I will probably walk round the park filming the most disturbing things I can find. Then I'll probably do something with smashing glasses and burning objects. It will probably be about a philosophical life of some person that does not genuinely exist. I don't know. I will draw and paint and scream. I have never really created something imaginative or through a medium such as film. Maybe I'll force some of the people I can actually half stand to help me out. I'll see if anyone's interested.
Eugh... this actually might keep me distracting off slashing my wrists and wallowing in self-pity and hatred of my family for a while. Shame I have no-one to help me complete it. I can predict that It will be shit and I will end up loathing every minute of time I wasted on it.
Fuck my life.
Honestly: I hate myself. I think I am a failure to the human race. I self harm and jump between starvation and compulsive eating. I never tell the truth. I hate all my friends.
What I like to say: I like my solitary lifestyle. I think I'm perfect. I don't give a shit what you think.
What I like to say: I like my solitary lifestyle. I think I'm perfect. I don't give a shit what you think.
Can I chop off all my hair and become a punk?
Do you think my family would disown me if I just decided to rebel, skip school, start drugs and just hang out being cool and punky?
Ehh. Not that I really want to. Also, they actually wouldn't give a shit; my parents are far too laid back.
I have an absolute desire to make them angry, you know, like the average, angst-filled, against-the-world teenager. Honestly, I am failure to my name. Well, not to my name, but to my idealogical lifestyle. The whole philosophy I have going on, the one where I refuse to conform to any social norms and defy my role as a posh-privately educated-arrogant snob. That is a bit harsh, not everyone at my school is like that, in fact most of them are sluts who want to be famous and think they're are far more beautiful than they are. They also pretend not to care about their precious education, but cry if they get less than 80% on a test. Anyway, I want to move to a boarding school where I refuse to talk to any other students and just pretend that no one else is alive other than myself. Yes, I am slightly self-obsessed.
I actually don't want to hate people; they just make it so difficult for me. I have eventually come to realise that it might in fact be my own fault that I loathe the human race, and repel kind-hearted, normal people. Maybe if I wasn't, well, a lying bitch and just pretended to like people then they would become more tolerable. It's actually dreadful how every word that comes out of my mouth is a lie. If I say something honest to a person in flesh I am paranoid they will think I am utterly insane.
Fuck it. If I continue lying and screaming 90% of the time everyone will just continue to fall for my flawless facade. Not.
Ehh. Not that I really want to. Also, they actually wouldn't give a shit; my parents are far too laid back.
I have an absolute desire to make them angry, you know, like the average, angst-filled, against-the-world teenager. Honestly, I am failure to my name. Well, not to my name, but to my idealogical lifestyle. The whole philosophy I have going on, the one where I refuse to conform to any social norms and defy my role as a posh-privately educated-arrogant snob. That is a bit harsh, not everyone at my school is like that, in fact most of them are sluts who want to be famous and think they're are far more beautiful than they are. They also pretend not to care about their precious education, but cry if they get less than 80% on a test. Anyway, I want to move to a boarding school where I refuse to talk to any other students and just pretend that no one else is alive other than myself. Yes, I am slightly self-obsessed.
I actually don't want to hate people; they just make it so difficult for me. I have eventually come to realise that it might in fact be my own fault that I loathe the human race, and repel kind-hearted, normal people. Maybe if I wasn't, well, a lying bitch and just pretended to like people then they would become more tolerable. It's actually dreadful how every word that comes out of my mouth is a lie. If I say something honest to a person in flesh I am paranoid they will think I am utterly insane.
Fuck it. If I continue lying and screaming 90% of the time everyone will just continue to fall for my flawless facade. Not.
I don't like titles, they remind me of essays.
It is almost... or actually it is half term. Thank-fucking-god.
These past few days have been decent.
Wednesday was bearable. Until the evening, then it was amazing. I saw the Horrors live and they were just so brilliant. I adore their music. I could literally just listen to it for hours on end. So that was a highlight of my week.
Thursday was dead. I was shattered and couldn't think. Then I had two see 4 shit plays because my sister was in one of them. I was convulsing out of terror by the end. I also forgot to do my English coursework.
Friday, today, has been fine. Last day of school for the next 2 weeks. I did some half decent drawings in maths and physics. I also made my art piece look slightly less like a 5 year olds attempt at drawing a leaf. Philosophy club was the highlight of my day. I always love that.
Shock-horror. I actually have plans to socialise with other human beings tomorrow. This reminds me that half-term will be a depressingly accurate reminder of the lack of friends I have. I seem to have fooled myself into believing I have half made some new friends recently, but I shall not become completely ignorant, I do understand that they are not proper friends and only talk to me at school because they find me faintly amusing and their real friends aren't in that lesson.
The break will be a good time to catch up on my bookshop adventures and on sitting alone in parks with a loud ipod and sketchbook for a couple of hours.
I will probably just do art/read everyday. You know, I find it frankly quite unsettling that people really do like me. I honestly can't understand why they would not be put off my incessant insulting, shouting, mood-swings and tendency to just be a completely patronising bitch. Half the time I want people to hate me and leave me alone just so I can sit there and draw without constant irritation from sexually-frustrated teenage girls who are infatuated with every guy they see on tv and just must get this new mascara.
Euggh. I am going to be a cliched outcast now and sit in my room listening to loud music.
Oh I also finished a book which was awesome because the girl was completely mad and murdered her best friend cold-heartedly. I love psychopaths.
These past few days have been decent.
Wednesday was bearable. Until the evening, then it was amazing. I saw the Horrors live and they were just so brilliant. I adore their music. I could literally just listen to it for hours on end. So that was a highlight of my week.
Thursday was dead. I was shattered and couldn't think. Then I had two see 4 shit plays because my sister was in one of them. I was convulsing out of terror by the end. I also forgot to do my English coursework.
Friday, today, has been fine. Last day of school for the next 2 weeks. I did some half decent drawings in maths and physics. I also made my art piece look slightly less like a 5 year olds attempt at drawing a leaf. Philosophy club was the highlight of my day. I always love that.
Shock-horror. I actually have plans to socialise with other human beings tomorrow. This reminds me that half-term will be a depressingly accurate reminder of the lack of friends I have. I seem to have fooled myself into believing I have half made some new friends recently, but I shall not become completely ignorant, I do understand that they are not proper friends and only talk to me at school because they find me faintly amusing and their real friends aren't in that lesson.
The break will be a good time to catch up on my bookshop adventures and on sitting alone in parks with a loud ipod and sketchbook for a couple of hours.
I will probably just do art/read everyday. You know, I find it frankly quite unsettling that people really do like me. I honestly can't understand why they would not be put off my incessant insulting, shouting, mood-swings and tendency to just be a completely patronising bitch. Half the time I want people to hate me and leave me alone just so I can sit there and draw without constant irritation from sexually-frustrated teenage girls who are infatuated with every guy they see on tv and just must get this new mascara.
Euggh. I am going to be a cliched outcast now and sit in my room listening to loud music.
Oh I also finished a book which was awesome because the girl was completely mad and murdered her best friend cold-heartedly. I love psychopaths.
Tuesday, 11 October 2011
Boredom and Exhaustion.
Emotions, moods and other irrelevant information.
My mood today is, well, tired and quite indifferent. I need to sleep. My mother is now worried for my sanity, and health, due to my extreme lack of rest. Anyway, I don't particularly like sleeping, it's boring. I could be doing far more interesting things. So I'm just bored really. Oh and I think I am slowly scratching deeper into my scalp. I cause my head to start bleeding from sub-consious scratching earlier today. Maybe my family are right to think that I can't be trusted to take responsibility for my health.
Music.... that everyone should listen to.
You and Whose Army? - Radiohead
I actually adore this song. I find it kind of haunting, but still, quite easy to just float on by.
Black Swan - Sunset Rubdown
I don't know, there is something here that just displays extreme emotion to me. I don't even have to think. There is one line which I love, "You were hoping for something a little more realistic, you were hoping for the head of the queen."This lyric just makes me shiver and smile madly.
Creep - Radiohead
I just think that this is a beautiful song. The lyrics are so honest, and just kind of relatable. Still, another amazing Radiohead song, the same dark atmosphere to it.
Scarlet Fields - The Horrors
One- I love his voice. Two- I am just obsessed with this song. Three- I am seeing them live in Camden tomorrow (elated).
Transmission - Joy Division
This song is exceptional. Although, when I say Transmission, what I mean is I am in the mood for anything sung by the legendary Ian Curtis.
Panic - The Smiths
Umm... I like the song. I just enjoy Morrissey's voice, even if it does sound like he is always moaning. Also my parents hate The Smiths, so it's another way to rebel...
Night After Night - Laura Marling
A moving song of her new album. It's sensitive, and far beyond her years in maturity. I love her lyrics.
Books, books, books.
If you haven't read Tales of Mystery and Imagination by Edgar Allan Poe go pick it up from the library now. He is... he leaves me completely speechless. I have also decided that I shall go on a shakespeare marathon and read Hamlet, (re-read) Macbeth and some of the best sonnets. I've also made a decision to finish my Jean-Paul Sartre before thursday (never gonna happen). Then I must, over half term, read Dorian Grey and Smoke and Mirrors by Neil Gaiman my favourite person on Earth currently.
My mood today is, well, tired and quite indifferent. I need to sleep. My mother is now worried for my sanity, and health, due to my extreme lack of rest. Anyway, I don't particularly like sleeping, it's boring. I could be doing far more interesting things. So I'm just bored really. Oh and I think I am slowly scratching deeper into my scalp. I cause my head to start bleeding from sub-consious scratching earlier today. Maybe my family are right to think that I can't be trusted to take responsibility for my health.
Music.... that everyone should listen to.
You and Whose Army? - Radiohead
I actually adore this song. I find it kind of haunting, but still, quite easy to just float on by.
Black Swan - Sunset Rubdown
I don't know, there is something here that just displays extreme emotion to me. I don't even have to think. There is one line which I love, "You were hoping for something a little more realistic, you were hoping for the head of the queen."This lyric just makes me shiver and smile madly.
Creep - Radiohead
I just think that this is a beautiful song. The lyrics are so honest, and just kind of relatable. Still, another amazing Radiohead song, the same dark atmosphere to it.
Scarlet Fields - The Horrors
One- I love his voice. Two- I am just obsessed with this song. Three- I am seeing them live in Camden tomorrow (elated).
Transmission - Joy Division
This song is exceptional. Although, when I say Transmission, what I mean is I am in the mood for anything sung by the legendary Ian Curtis.
Panic - The Smiths
Umm... I like the song. I just enjoy Morrissey's voice, even if it does sound like he is always moaning. Also my parents hate The Smiths, so it's another way to rebel...
Night After Night - Laura Marling
A moving song of her new album. It's sensitive, and far beyond her years in maturity. I love her lyrics.
Books, books, books.
If you haven't read Tales of Mystery and Imagination by Edgar Allan Poe go pick it up from the library now. He is... he leaves me completely speechless. I have also decided that I shall go on a shakespeare marathon and read Hamlet, (re-read) Macbeth and some of the best sonnets. I've also made a decision to finish my Jean-Paul Sartre before thursday (never gonna happen). Then I must, over half term, read Dorian Grey and Smoke and Mirrors by Neil Gaiman my favourite person on Earth currently.
A blog and a messed up mind.
I have always wanted a blog. Just a place to spill my soul, well, some of it.
The only problem is words do not flow easily for me, it's as if I have a barrier blocking the sentences from travelling form my mind to my mouth/fingers, I can think of my exact feelings, but as soon as I need to express them the thought evaporates into a mess of confused words. Still, I know that with all my writing for school, and the fact that I adore language and literature I might need to be eloquent. A blog, is the perfect practice. Interesting and exhilarating. I love the idea of spinning tales, even if they are completely true. If only I had the literary skills that the beautiful-minded people who write exceptional novels do. My mind is full of dark, and disturbing tales that create brilliant stories in my mind, only they never reach paper. I want to be like Edgar Allan Poe and be able to cause people's skin to crawl, and their hands to shake with terror. For now, well until I learn how to speak/write properly, I will stick to drawing and creating fantasies in my imagination. Imagination is my strongest attribute, shame no-one gets to witness it other than me. Anyway, all it does for me drive me slowly insane. People say my art is good, my obsessive nature over lines and colours. Only, they do not understand that the images I create are another form of escapism, running away from my true emotions, there is no reality or expression in them. They are just items of superficial beauty. I don't care though, I just hope that this blog will give me an outlet from my previously stifled pain, and stop me keeping all the mad morbid tales in my mind.
The only problem is words do not flow easily for me, it's as if I have a barrier blocking the sentences from travelling form my mind to my mouth/fingers, I can think of my exact feelings, but as soon as I need to express them the thought evaporates into a mess of confused words. Still, I know that with all my writing for school, and the fact that I adore language and literature I might need to be eloquent. A blog, is the perfect practice. Interesting and exhilarating. I love the idea of spinning tales, even if they are completely true. If only I had the literary skills that the beautiful-minded people who write exceptional novels do. My mind is full of dark, and disturbing tales that create brilliant stories in my mind, only they never reach paper. I want to be like Edgar Allan Poe and be able to cause people's skin to crawl, and their hands to shake with terror. For now, well until I learn how to speak/write properly, I will stick to drawing and creating fantasies in my imagination. Imagination is my strongest attribute, shame no-one gets to witness it other than me. Anyway, all it does for me drive me slowly insane. People say my art is good, my obsessive nature over lines and colours. Only, they do not understand that the images I create are another form of escapism, running away from my true emotions, there is no reality or expression in them. They are just items of superficial beauty. I don't care though, I just hope that this blog will give me an outlet from my previously stifled pain, and stop me keeping all the mad morbid tales in my mind.
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