Video Blogging

Long time, no speak!

So, you may or may not have seen a link I put on here a while ago linking to a new blog project I had. Sadly, second year completely overwhelmed me and I didn't get very far with it. However, I am now trying out the YouTube scene. Vlogging, video blogging, YouTubing - pick a verb of your choice. I'm really enjoying doing it and am hoping to get content going more regularly once uni work gets a bit less hectic.

If you would like to see my channel (and maybe subscribe, if you really like) you can just click here
It would be me much appreciated! 

I feel awful for not posting on my other blog much but time has just escaped me.
Blimey, is this what growing old feels like? If you do want me to do more writing, leave a comment and I will honestly do my best to get some more writing done. But definitely after exams, I've got about three weeks of deadline craziness coming up.

Much love for reading this
x 

Here Went Something

The title? Well my first post in 2011 was called Here Goes Nothing, thought I'd work with that rather than just call it the end. That seemed a slightly shitty title, not to mention it sounds a pinch depressing. But on to more important matters. 

Well, this is it, the conclusion I promised. After this, I have most certainly posted on my blog every day for a year, it started on the 1st and it ends on the 1st. What do I say? I'll just start typing and hopefully in amongst all my mumblings, some form of decent sense of ending will occur. 


Writing a poem every day for a year, it wasn't easy. Especially because what I was writing, I didn't think was very good and occasionally I felt I was wasting my time. But I carried on, probably because of stubborness and wanting to prove I could do it more than anything. And I think by writing these poems, it forced me to think so much more about what I was seeing. It allowed me to look around the world and try and get inspiration from anything. That kind of thought process in fact led to my first tattoo, I wanted to get something to remember what that felt like. To be open minded and wide eyed, wanting to soak in as much as I could from life.

I think I've always liked the occasional moment where you just sit back and let the world take over. Looking through a window and watching the clouds, walking along the street and listening to conversations, wondering about other people and their lives and how you have no idea who they are or what they'll do except in that brief second of conversation. And train rides. I love train rides. You get to really absorb scenery and catch glimpses of lives which have nothing to do with you. It makes you think one of two things 
1. In the bigger picture that makes up the universe we are barely a speck. 
2. How important your own world is - well, what makes up your own world.

I've tried to express this way of thinking in my poems, not to force other people to think the same, but just to try and show what I'm like. I'm sure other people have the same sort of thoughts.  I'm 18 - I do know that other people understand me and most likely feely the same. (just thinking of the whole stereotype teenager of nobody understands me and my individuality, blah blah blah)

Jesus, this is is a lot of writing. Oh well, it's the last blog post, I think I'm allowed to indulge myself a bit. I'm trying to think what else I want to say. Well, I said it yesterday but thank you so much for reading this. You're a wonderful (and patient) person :') 


It's a relief and kind of sad to have finished. I'm quite proud of myself for sticking with it. I hope that when I'm older, I continue to write because I can't remember a time when I haven't loved it. I did this because I wanted to become a more creative person, I'm not sure if I am but I am definitely a more inspired person. 

My Own Story (The Last Poem)

So, this is it, the last poem of 2011. I'm sat here listening to The Kooks - Naive, which for some reason feels appropriate. As I said a month or so ago, I will be posting a proper conclusion on January 1st - without a poem - this is because I wrote an introduction saying what I would do this year, also without a poem. I thought this made it seem more full circle. 
And for those who think I've cheated and missed out on two poems, I posted two extra in November, just to be thorough.

I would love to be able to tell you that I have been thinking about this poem for months and have perfected what you're about to read. But I haven't. In fact, I'm still not too sure what I'm going to write about. 


Sad as it may make me appear, I actually feel a bit emotional that this is the last one. I'll stop blabbing on, you get my emotional mush of  a summary tomorrow. Something for you to look forward to in 2012 - the year the world ends apparently. But I will say here, that thank you to any one who has read this. Anyone who has looked at this blog in the past year, even if you're not reading now and will never know how grateful I am that people took some time to read this.

Here we go, the last poem. It will look as if I just started typing whatever, technology can't show my thinking process but rest assured, I'm going to think and come back to it. This is important. 

Picture is not meant to be arrogant, I just thought since it was poem about me, this was probably the best image to have. 

It could be said there is a poem 
for pretty much everything
from a sonnet for your heart to sing
to a limerick of Ireland 
and a man called Jim. 


I have tried all this year to write 
with maybe not all the words I know
they're mostly simple, but I wanted to show
what my world is like
maybe not fabulously, but it's so so. 


My world is ordinary, this I know 
and most would be likely to agree 
it's friends, esteem, education and family 
but I have tried to notice 
that what makes it extraordinary. 


The sunlit glow of a grey street
wondering about the stories 
of strangers we meet 
and memories that we all wish to keep.

Comfortable silences 
what it feels like to be kissed 
to be young 
and with people you love 
the simple pleasure 
of smiling on a sunny day 
thinking of the future 
of growing older 
thinking of childhood 
what could, would, should
of been
and still always remembering 
to be in the now.

We all know that 
there are counted days
and counted words
but I suppose what I've learnt 
is not to drown in it all 
but absorb and live,
maybe not be a focus of the world
but to have my own
to make it compelling
to have my own story 
that is worth telling.

On The Motorway

There were cars stretching 
as far as the eye could see
and then there was you,
there was you and me. 


The road and rain faded
along that motorway 
you help up a hand
which shone amongst the grey.


You began to write 
words, that I couldn't see
then you helped up the paper
it was simple but I was happy. 


Hi with a smiley face 
was all that you had written 
your writing neat 
and suddenly I was smitten.

Quick as I could manage
I got out my pen 
replied with hello 
in the hopes you'd write again. 


Another paper against the window
this one said I like your eyes 
you smiled with a caring gaze
and I felt complimented, though surprised.


I wrote back thank you 
and you nodded your head 
we were both still smiling 
and I knew I'd turned red. 


But all too soon 
the traffic began to move 
we became separated
and I completely lost you.
I have never seen you again 
and I'm most likely not going to 
but for that stretch of mile
we made a good couple,
me and you. 

An Ocean of Thought

I keep getting swept away
by tides of thought
one tugging me one way
while another crashes 
making my head sway.


Thoughts and faces
wash across my mind
and for a second or two 
I forget where I am
totally absorbed,
the waves of my mind
keep flowing 
with no sign of showing
pause or rest 
so it's the least I can do
to close my eyes 
let the thoughts take control
and swim through this ride. 

Nothing Really But Maybe Something

Here it is again
a chance 
to try something new
take a step
which I might forget
for it could lead 
to nothing 
but it could leap
to something.


This pounding heart
could be bluffing
to convince my brain
that this is sane
and this could happen 
but then again 
I have to remember 
what's happened before 
there's no assurance 
there's not really anything 
it's just a case of waiting 
to see what fate brings. 

Here and There

The feeling that this is fleeting 
we're only meeting 
for barely any time 
and it feels as if
almost as soon as 
I've finished this rhyme 
we shall soon be on our way again.


For now our lives here are back
to what they once were
but the striking difference 
is that we all have a separate lives
we all have a there
and there will never be whole here
our worlds beginning to part 
and the scary thing is
that this is just the start. 

Lack of Sleep in the Morning

The bed calls like a lover 
wanting you to stay,
clinging to the sheets
whispering
that you need to be
with one another.


Your head on the pillow
heavy as led 
your sheets embracing you 
this is our time 
get up later
stay here instead. 


The cold air circles menacingly 
from the other side of the room
and with it a comes 
a sense of doom
that you have to soon rise
and leave your warm nest 
you're running late
and you need to get dressed. 

Overlapping Friends

We all easily fall
back in to place
a smile seems to be stuck
right on my face,
for here we are
as we were then 
as if we never left 
friends were made 
when we were away
but now we're back again 
we overlap
just have a chat 
we're just us
no fuss
all content
with our time well spent. 

What Feels Like Home

What feels like home
is hard to describe
without the use of clichés 
something that causes 
a nauseating response 
of hearing something
that's pretty much a replay.


Yes 
we know
home is not a building 
it's more so a heart 
and that feeling
of being a part 
of something.


For me
I would say
it's a warm feeling 
close to your chest 
that makes you feel 
protected from the rest
of the world 
and I will feel as safe
as I did 
when I simply just 
a little girl. 

The Less Romantic Side of Dancing

Hands around the waist 
beginning to dance
after turning around
to see their face 
not really caring
or wondering
why're you're in this place.


But now with hindsight
and a sober thought 
it all comes back to 
how you view
yourself 
and that dancing with a stranger
despite an element of danger 
kind of seems to be a sign
that you're pretty
somebody 
who is worth some time
and really
this is not the place to be
where drunk
dancing 
and kissing
are linked to self esteem. 

Bonding

It's not so much 

what we do
but what we say
as our lives
slowly become
more interlaced 
we become 
comfortable
open 
we never stopped
being ourselves
but now we become 
them more 
and really
I don't think I need
to ask for much more. 

Changing Esteem

It's surprisingly hard 
to lift up esteem
it's set in it's concrete ways
a block in my head
you're ugly
don't look at the mirror
look at the floor instead 
changing this
listening when people
compliment 
instead of tossing 
the notion away
it's surprisingly difficult
thinking of my appearance
as something 
that's okay. 

Simple Love

As sad as this will make me sound, not to mention pathetic and maybe slightly like Bridget Jones, yesterday at about two in the morning I think? ( I don' tend to sleep till around 4) I was just sat in my room sobbing. 
After I had watched 90210 and Glee.
It wasn't so much the show themselves that made me cry, more so what they show. Couples.
Always couples. People being together and despite problems, having relationships.
It was horrible to progress back to the state of feeling alone and the reasoning behind this that I'm ugly. Alone, ugly and crying at two in the morning. Crank out the chocolate and you have the beginning of a chick flick. Looking back, it was a spectacular pity fest. 
The worse thing is though, is that that's what in my head. It's just kind of pushed down under all the stuff. But I do genuinely feel like that. Dearie me. 


Anyway, I know I said I would try to write less whingy, 'romantic pictures' poems but I thought with this reasoning of last night, I was allowed some self indulgence in this one.


Reading it back, this is probably one of the most honest and open poems I've done. 

It's not so much the fact
I need someone 
to complete me 
I don't really want to 
be part of some romantic story
something that completely 
alters history,
I just want something simple.

A hand to hold
someone to grow old (with) 
he can give me his coat
if I get cold 
not to tell me I'm beautiful
but he thinks I am 
to smile before kissing me
to hold me when I'm sad
or hold me whenever
so tight I think he'll never let go
and I will always know
that he's here 
not just for me
but because he wants to be. 

A Look That Never Changes

Despite all the change
through all the seasons
living independently 
some might call it
growing up 
underneath it all
I'm still me,
the same naive girl
who reads too much 
in to looks 
and hopes with each
pump of the heart 
that for once 
she hasn't read too deep
and that look
there
means something. 

Heart Skips With the Brain

how cute is the picture? Though not exactly what I was going for with poem.

My brain has a thought
and my heart jumps along
like a puppy on a lead
so just before
going to sleep
an idea or worry
springs to mind
and rather than be kind
and let me rest
my heart decides
to make itself heard
by knocking hard
against my chest.


So now of course
it's beating quick
and with that rolls forward
that certain gaze
and thoughts get covered
in a romantic haze
and all I want to do is sleep
but my brain
sets the heart up
ready to run
and the heart on it's own
pounding desperately
for someone. 

Holding on to a Smile

So it's December, a mince pince has been consumed as well as my the first chocolate in my advent calendar. Things are going to get rather merry around here, I imagine. But as well as counting down to Christmas it is also the count down to the end of the poem every day for a year o.o I don't know what to say that hasn't been said - you know the usual can't believe I've actually (nearly) done it, people read it (not that many but still some) how it'll be a relief to of finished, you get the idea. 
Well, for want of a better phrase, it's the beginning of the end. 
Though, in a less dramatic sense, I am thinking of starting a new blog at some point but more so for journalism reasons. 

It may not be
easy
to be always
happy.


It may not be
easy
to be always 
me.

They say
that life is hard 
I would say
that applies
to some
rather than others.


Where I am now
it's pretty good 
I think I'm acting
how I should

I don't need to try
to smile 
it just happens 
but mean while 
I hope others
who find it hard
can find something
to hold on to. 

Kisses

Collecting kisses 

memories of lips

meeting mine

a smile just before

or during

and eyes always kind 

a short connection

that doesn't last long

the meaning not the deep

I wish I had someone 

where I got to keep

this feeling 

and rather than collect

just have the one.

I Can't Sleep

So I was still awake at half 4 in the morning yesterday, that was fun -.-  blahblahblah, I'm tired -.-
Yup, there's me. I took a picture so I had proof I sat on my floor at half in the morning, using my chair as a table so I could use my laptop. Don't I look happy. 

Compare the 2 pictures xD
Aha oh dear.

Sat on my floor 
no longer caring 
what the time is any more
eyes are strained 
as is the brain 
I'm wondering if I'm going insane 
thoughts not walking
but sprinting all around
I feel trapped
enclosed 
there's not enough room
between the ceiling and the ground. 


Thoughts of love
of a hazel gaze
of the future 
how I'll spend my days
of wanting to create
an idea that hasn't been done
but really
the most important one
why
why can't I sleep?

Being Called Beautiful

Being called beautiful
feels like a lie
because I've been telling myself 
every time I look in the mirror
and see a glimmer 
of potential 
something pretty
I shoot it down 
eyes back to the ground
and forget what I saw.

But now?
I've been complimented 
maybe by a stranger
where's the danger
of blurred alcohol vision
but a compliment still 
and it makes me feel 
something I thought
I never would 
and I still that I should
not think this way
but appearance wise,
dare I say?
I kind of feel . . . okay.