Dear Nina, im sorry i havent written to you like i swore i would. I do think about you more than i write or talk to you. Love, Tori.
Dear Claire, i love you. You truely are an angel. You may be a bad influence on my innocent, niave mind but i will forgive you as long as you promise me that nothing will ever change. Love, Victor.
You will never be the person you have the potential to be. You wont ever over-acheive or treat yourself with enough respect to make yourself proud. You will continue to accept a lack of confidence as an excuse for the fact you are too lazy and insecure to make something of yourself. You, as a natural human being, have the same choices and oppertunities as everyone around you. How you make these oppertunities unique is a choice that takes a special person to do; you are not special. You cannot be a good person. You dont have the personality to ensure that inside your head ticks a thousand cogs that work like clockwork to give each individual a kick start. You do not have this. Your cogs need oilling. You are useless and pathetic and i pity you with everything i have inside me. You dont surprise me because i expect nothing of you. You will go no where. You are nothing. You are a no-one. You are simply a waste of the effort it takes to acknowledge you. You have no purpose and no benefit and no use. You waste yourself and ruin your own life. Karma will get you.
Prove.
Me.
Wrong.
Vik.x
Friday, June 20, 2008
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Lets Go To The Hop
Throw me whoever you like.
I love my Grandma and Grandad more than anything.
They both bring me so much happiness by simply looking into their wise old faces.
I love my Grandma and Grandad more than anything.
They both bring me so much happiness by simply looking into their wise old faces.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Dont Cry Jack
Bye bye blondie.
Things are changing but the people arnt.
Thats whats making things change; the fact that some people just are fixed on staying in the same frame of mind.
Its sad, but its true.
You've brought it on for yourself, you deserve everything you get.
I blame you.
Sometimes its alot easy to give up but thats not what makes life a challenge.
You're meant to spit the rain back to the sky arent you?
The only thing you will ever need is one singular person that you are able to vent to. The person has to be trustworthy and very clearly there for the long run.
Ive had mine for many years now.
I pay her in vodka, laughter and lambrini. So she keeps quiet until i need a good moan.
I dont really bother with her very much, other than when i need her.
But, the thing is, that happens to be all the time.
Ive found an emotion you cannot deny.
Hips dont look attractive when they are connect, take note.
Losing one parent is unfortunate. Losing two is just careless.
/OUT
Things are changing but the people arnt.
Thats whats making things change; the fact that some people just are fixed on staying in the same frame of mind.
Its sad, but its true.
You've brought it on for yourself, you deserve everything you get.
I blame you.
Sometimes its alot easy to give up but thats not what makes life a challenge.
You're meant to spit the rain back to the sky arent you?
The only thing you will ever need is one singular person that you are able to vent to. The person has to be trustworthy and very clearly there for the long run.
Ive had mine for many years now.
I pay her in vodka, laughter and lambrini. So she keeps quiet until i need a good moan.
I dont really bother with her very much, other than when i need her.
But, the thing is, that happens to be all the time.
Ive found an emotion you cannot deny.
Hips dont look attractive when they are connect, take note.
Losing one parent is unfortunate. Losing two is just careless.
/OUT
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Russian rap stars
www.sawpeg512.blogspot.com
thats one that is done more or less every day or so... but its not words...
I cant find Aarons blog.
I dont know where it is.
If i wanted to, i could please Miss Nina Moores and make my lack of Aarons url into a mind bending analogy. But to be quite honest, i cant be too bothered to think so deeply into that statement.
Basically this is a space-filler. Something to bide my time whilst i have very few things to say. I havent written in what seems like forever yet there is nothing of any great importance to report.
So i wont waste your time.
Dont worry blogspot. I havent forsaken you. I will return soon with numerous paragraphs of attempted blogs and strings of words with capital letters and punctuation.
Vik.x
thats one that is done more or less every day or so... but its not words...
I cant find Aarons blog.
I dont know where it is.
If i wanted to, i could please Miss Nina Moores and make my lack of Aarons url into a mind bending analogy. But to be quite honest, i cant be too bothered to think so deeply into that statement.
Basically this is a space-filler. Something to bide my time whilst i have very few things to say. I havent written in what seems like forever yet there is nothing of any great importance to report.
So i wont waste your time.
Dont worry blogspot. I havent forsaken you. I will return soon with numerous paragraphs of attempted blogs and strings of words with capital letters and punctuation.
Vik.x
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
The ghosts that broke my heart.
Sometimes you can tell you are annoying someone.
Sometimes it annoys you, sometimes you dont care.
You dont know how lucky we are.
I'm at the starting line and its all ahead of me. Just a long, straight track.
Theres not just me though, because im surrounded by hundreds of other people too. By looking at their faces, you can tell what theyre thinking. Some of them are evidently raring to go; excited at the prospect of the race ahead. Others are scared, petrified at the thought of having to begin. Some just seem disinterested and, to the dismay of the competitors that seem worried, dont seem to be at all effected or anxious.
Its time to take up the mark. We step up, united. Together, we are all at the very start. Our different feelings and anticipations and attitudes are forgotten. The ones who are reluctant now join with the ones who are keen. Regardless of the details, none of these people stood beside me can escape the fact we are stood where we are. The starting line.
We begin now. Some people dont even start; never even crossing the starting line. Some only walk, some sprint, some jog. But right away its clear that some are better than the others, because they speed off and leave the slower competitors behind.
I focus on my own track now. I focus on keeping in the white lines. I focus on being unfocused on the rest. For as far as i can see the track is straight and pretty wide. Heading off into the distance, the lines vanish. They merge into a blurry mist on the horizon. Things start to change now, because a few of the tracks combine into one causing the two runners to be running together. Some runners stop, unable to take it. Their races are over.
Now i can see my track clearer, even though sometimes its clouded and hazy, it begins to lift again. It starts to get bumpy and rough, i'm stumbling to keep on my feet. Other people have had this already, some fell at the challenge but the most persistant continued. The track becomes flat, then steep, then muddy, then cold, then too hot, then cloudy. The obsticles become more frequent. Then they disappear and everything is smooth. Just as i think i'm doing ok, something will block my path and i will have to climb over it. The different competitors encounter different barriers at different times. Not all of them can keep up with the crowd and they run at their own pace. Plenty give up, stop running and find it strange trying to take on all these obsticles. I know in my head that i cannot give up and stop running. Even though its muddy and sometimes windy or rough.
Ive been running my race for 15 years now.
Its not getting easier, or harder.
Its just a challenge.
Keep it up.
x x x x x x x x
Sometimes it annoys you, sometimes you dont care.
You dont know how lucky we are.
I'm at the starting line and its all ahead of me. Just a long, straight track.
Theres not just me though, because im surrounded by hundreds of other people too. By looking at their faces, you can tell what theyre thinking. Some of them are evidently raring to go; excited at the prospect of the race ahead. Others are scared, petrified at the thought of having to begin. Some just seem disinterested and, to the dismay of the competitors that seem worried, dont seem to be at all effected or anxious.
Its time to take up the mark. We step up, united. Together, we are all at the very start. Our different feelings and anticipations and attitudes are forgotten. The ones who are reluctant now join with the ones who are keen. Regardless of the details, none of these people stood beside me can escape the fact we are stood where we are. The starting line.
We begin now. Some people dont even start; never even crossing the starting line. Some only walk, some sprint, some jog. But right away its clear that some are better than the others, because they speed off and leave the slower competitors behind.
I focus on my own track now. I focus on keeping in the white lines. I focus on being unfocused on the rest. For as far as i can see the track is straight and pretty wide. Heading off into the distance, the lines vanish. They merge into a blurry mist on the horizon. Things start to change now, because a few of the tracks combine into one causing the two runners to be running together. Some runners stop, unable to take it. Their races are over.
Now i can see my track clearer, even though sometimes its clouded and hazy, it begins to lift again. It starts to get bumpy and rough, i'm stumbling to keep on my feet. Other people have had this already, some fell at the challenge but the most persistant continued. The track becomes flat, then steep, then muddy, then cold, then too hot, then cloudy. The obsticles become more frequent. Then they disappear and everything is smooth. Just as i think i'm doing ok, something will block my path and i will have to climb over it. The different competitors encounter different barriers at different times. Not all of them can keep up with the crowd and they run at their own pace. Plenty give up, stop running and find it strange trying to take on all these obsticles. I know in my head that i cannot give up and stop running. Even though its muddy and sometimes windy or rough.
Ive been running my race for 15 years now.
Its not getting easier, or harder.
Its just a challenge.
Keep it up.
x x x x x x x x
Sunday, March 30, 2008
20th of July, 1969
The moon gets its light by reflecting rays from the sun. Without the sun the moon is nothing, just a dark entity in the giant vacuum we call space. You make me feel whole, with you i can be anything i want to be. I have confidence and i embrace life to the full. You make me someone. I am the moon and you are my sun.
Approx; 60.7 billion people, that we know of.
Pretty sick of just being one of an approximation..
From, Vik x
Approx; 60.7 billion people, that we know of.
Pretty sick of just being one of an approximation..
From, Vik x
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Taps at my window.
I just turned to look at him. There was something about the pale, dusky light pouring from the window that made his eyes sparkle with unspoken words. They looked hollow, in such a full way - as if he had so many things he wanted to say, but he knew it wasn't the right time. The stupidly ridiculous hat was perched on his head, causing the long buried memories of summer to come flooding back. They had been stored in a box at the back of my mind, just to stop them teasing me whilst the rain fell and the skies were grey. Him sat in that net backed hat threw me violently into my little gemmed orange dollies, sat on the park bench in the fading light of the summer days. Messing nervously with my hands in my lap, paying no attention to the large group of summer-drunk teens by my side, who knew their claim to the innocence of youth was dimming. Awkwardly focusing on the scuffs on my toes and the dirt on my heels, from yesterdays episode with the long grass and the murky ponds, my naive head was swimming with the expectations and the love for the ever fading holidays. Nobody needed to say a word, but we all knew it was the summer of our lives. The summer for firsts, lasts and in betweens. The summer of irreplaceable feelings of belonging and inclusion. Our daily rituals had become somewhat of a culture, causing the holidays to become useless in terms of a break from school and brighter in terms of it becoming our way of life. So sitting with tanned arms and grazed knees on that bench was no different from the routine of previous days. The feeling i felt for him then, complimented the grassy air and the cracked paving flags. It grew stronger, much like the bonds formed with the people who surrounded me. As summer filled our heads, romance filled our hearts. Some more than others.
By the end of the seemingly eternal vacation, hearts were broken and dignities fixed. As the school year started, the dreams and wishes ended of a summer that seemed to prove that anything was possible. Studies started, along with the winter winds and the forgotten chills of the all important rain storms. The desire for cheap alcohol turned into the need for hot chocolates and warm milk. We swapped our immodest skirts for umbrellas and our neck scarfs for woolen knits. As the fashion of the vibe changed, one thing didn't. Of all the comings and goings and the inconsistencies that summer held, one thing remained. It was him.
I knew by looking into his eyes, there and then in the pale dusky light pouring from the window, he knew it. He knew that the events and the drama of the months before and weeks after our well-spent summer holidays didn't matter. Regardless of it, there was one thing that we had spread further than any of the frisbees we threw in the sun or the races we ran on the grass. I knew what his eyes were saying. I hope he knew what mine were replying.
Darling, i love you as much in gloves and scarfs than i did in trucker hats and tank tops.
By the end of the seemingly eternal vacation, hearts were broken and dignities fixed. As the school year started, the dreams and wishes ended of a summer that seemed to prove that anything was possible. Studies started, along with the winter winds and the forgotten chills of the all important rain storms. The desire for cheap alcohol turned into the need for hot chocolates and warm milk. We swapped our immodest skirts for umbrellas and our neck scarfs for woolen knits. As the fashion of the vibe changed, one thing didn't. Of all the comings and goings and the inconsistencies that summer held, one thing remained. It was him.
I knew by looking into his eyes, there and then in the pale dusky light pouring from the window, he knew it. He knew that the events and the drama of the months before and weeks after our well-spent summer holidays didn't matter. Regardless of it, there was one thing that we had spread further than any of the frisbees we threw in the sun or the races we ran on the grass. I knew what his eyes were saying. I hope he knew what mine were replying.
Darling, i love you as much in gloves and scarfs than i did in trucker hats and tank tops.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Very Pretty.
Hey thanks. Thanks for that summer.
Its cold where youre going, i hope that your hearts always warm.
Nights are very long. In the grand scheme of things, obviously. Because in comparison to the day, nights are generally shorter. Medically speaking, the average human being sleeps for at least a third of their life. One whole third. Unless you live with Darren Murphy, who snores. ALOT. So for two sixths of your lifetime, you are (in most cases..) horizontal, eyes shut, deep breathing, dreaming. That sure is one hell of a way to spend your time.
That means for the other two thirds you are awake. You are eyes open.
This scares me.
This thought makes me scared.
Why?
Because that isnt long enough.
Just two thirds doesnt seem like alot.
I want to see the world. I want to wake up on a beach and wonder how i got there. I want to set fire to a pan and burn part of my kitchen. I want to lose my house keys and be locked out until my mum comes down with a spare key. I want to miss my flight and be stuck in the airport on my own. I want to sit on top of a building in the sunshine eating icecream. I want to throw a snowball from the top of a hill and see how far i can get it. I want to forget where i parked my car and have to walk around for ages trying to locate where the flashing light is as i unlock it with the fob. I want to get on a train without knowing where its going. I want to paint my walls different colours that dont match. I want to snorkle on the Great Barrier Reef. I want to have breakfast in a HUGE bed in a very posh city central hotel in New York. I want to camp in spain. I want to be kissed on the very top of the Eiffel Tower. I want to take my mum to a spa for the weekend. I want to have my hair cut by Nikki Clarke. I want to learn how to make pancakes. I want to stay out all night and forget that i have school in the morning. I want to pay alot of money to go away for the week and never once leave my hotel room. I want to build a room that only i am alowed in. I want to swim in an ice cold river. I want to sleep on grass. I want to learn to play one song on the acoustic guitar. I want to design my own wedding dress. I want to cook Christmas dinner for everyone i know. I want to throw a party that will get my house trashed. I want to stand barefoot in Hyde Park and have a picnic there. I want to got o Blackpool for a week. I want to have twins. I want to write my own music. I want to jump off a roof. I want to sleep in my car. I want to see my book on the shelf in Waterstones. I want to visit a poppy field. I want to lie under my white covers all day. I want to spend the whole day in a library. I want to make my Grandma proud of me. I want to get kicked off public transport. I want to name a star. I want to sit up in bed and see the ocean.
Two thirds?
I guess i'd better get started.
Its cold where youre going, i hope that your hearts always warm.
Nights are very long. In the grand scheme of things, obviously. Because in comparison to the day, nights are generally shorter. Medically speaking, the average human being sleeps for at least a third of their life. One whole third. Unless you live with Darren Murphy, who snores. ALOT. So for two sixths of your lifetime, you are (in most cases..) horizontal, eyes shut, deep breathing, dreaming. That sure is one hell of a way to spend your time.
That means for the other two thirds you are awake. You are eyes open.
This scares me.
This thought makes me scared.
Why?
Because that isnt long enough.
Just two thirds doesnt seem like alot.
I want to see the world. I want to wake up on a beach and wonder how i got there. I want to set fire to a pan and burn part of my kitchen. I want to lose my house keys and be locked out until my mum comes down with a spare key. I want to miss my flight and be stuck in the airport on my own. I want to sit on top of a building in the sunshine eating icecream. I want to throw a snowball from the top of a hill and see how far i can get it. I want to forget where i parked my car and have to walk around for ages trying to locate where the flashing light is as i unlock it with the fob. I want to get on a train without knowing where its going. I want to paint my walls different colours that dont match. I want to snorkle on the Great Barrier Reef. I want to have breakfast in a HUGE bed in a very posh city central hotel in New York. I want to camp in spain. I want to be kissed on the very top of the Eiffel Tower. I want to take my mum to a spa for the weekend. I want to have my hair cut by Nikki Clarke. I want to learn how to make pancakes. I want to stay out all night and forget that i have school in the morning. I want to pay alot of money to go away for the week and never once leave my hotel room. I want to build a room that only i am alowed in. I want to swim in an ice cold river. I want to sleep on grass. I want to learn to play one song on the acoustic guitar. I want to design my own wedding dress. I want to cook Christmas dinner for everyone i know. I want to throw a party that will get my house trashed. I want to stand barefoot in Hyde Park and have a picnic there. I want to got o Blackpool for a week. I want to have twins. I want to write my own music. I want to jump off a roof. I want to sleep in my car. I want to see my book on the shelf in Waterstones. I want to visit a poppy field. I want to lie under my white covers all day. I want to spend the whole day in a library. I want to make my Grandma proud of me. I want to get kicked off public transport. I want to name a star. I want to sit up in bed and see the ocean.
Two thirds?
I guess i'd better get started.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Tapping, WA
I knew there was something up with her because she stormed past my door as if she was hiding something.
I knew exactly what was wrong, because we had been in this same situation a thousand times before. I put down my school bag and walked into her room. She was sat in her usual position, so i sat in mine; just next to her mirror. I turned away so i wasn't looking at her, that was the most important part of our routine. If i looked at her she could feel me watching her, so i just gave her a few minutes to herself. From the mirror i could see her easily so i kept glancing over. She didn't notice me because she was far too buried in her own thoughts. Her head was stooped, and i could see her expressions change as she read the multicoloured words on the paper. She smiled cheekily as she progressed through the page, then her face straightened as she turned over to the next side. Then the first tear fell. It was overdue. She had managed to read a side and a half before she actually cried. This was my cue; shuffle ab it further forward. She put the paper down by her side and sighed, she had evidently finished. After a few seconds, she looked up at me with a big smile on her face and tears all down her cheeks. She pushed herself to her knees and crawled towards me. Flinging her arms around my neck i squeezed her hard in a hug that was more comforting than anything i couldve said. After a minute or two, she rocked back to her heels and passed me the letter. I scanned it quickly and nodded. She smiled and i wiped her cheek. Neither of us needed to say anything, there is an unwritten language that you are born with when you are a sister. Its a silent tongue that doesn't need to be shared; like a glance across the dinner table during cringe-worthy conversations or a pinch of the arm after an inappropriate comment. Its a language you cant teach, because there is nothing to be taught. Its just sisterhood.
My Grandad offered me a teapot before.
One out of his loft.
It may be years old, but its still usable.
He assured me he knew exactly where it was.
'Want me to go up and get it?'
No thank you grandad.
You're 60 something and due for a knee replacement.
Its fine, but thank you.
I'll go without.
I knew exactly what was wrong, because we had been in this same situation a thousand times before. I put down my school bag and walked into her room. She was sat in her usual position, so i sat in mine; just next to her mirror. I turned away so i wasn't looking at her, that was the most important part of our routine. If i looked at her she could feel me watching her, so i just gave her a few minutes to herself. From the mirror i could see her easily so i kept glancing over. She didn't notice me because she was far too buried in her own thoughts. Her head was stooped, and i could see her expressions change as she read the multicoloured words on the paper. She smiled cheekily as she progressed through the page, then her face straightened as she turned over to the next side. Then the first tear fell. It was overdue. She had managed to read a side and a half before she actually cried. This was my cue; shuffle ab it further forward. She put the paper down by her side and sighed, she had evidently finished. After a few seconds, she looked up at me with a big smile on her face and tears all down her cheeks. She pushed herself to her knees and crawled towards me. Flinging her arms around my neck i squeezed her hard in a hug that was more comforting than anything i couldve said. After a minute or two, she rocked back to her heels and passed me the letter. I scanned it quickly and nodded. She smiled and i wiped her cheek. Neither of us needed to say anything, there is an unwritten language that you are born with when you are a sister. Its a silent tongue that doesn't need to be shared; like a glance across the dinner table during cringe-worthy conversations or a pinch of the arm after an inappropriate comment. Its a language you cant teach, because there is nothing to be taught. Its just sisterhood.
My Grandad offered me a teapot before.
One out of his loft.
It may be years old, but its still usable.
He assured me he knew exactly where it was.
'Want me to go up and get it?'
No thank you grandad.
You're 60 something and due for a knee replacement.
Its fine, but thank you.
I'll go without.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Eyeliner, sweatbands, studded belts and h&m jackets.
Freedom comes at a price, so join us and be non-conformist.
Individuality is a quality the world lacks. Unlike accent, skin tone or hair colour, to live to be unique you must be born with it inplanted into your DNA.
Surely this means everyone is unique? As no two people are the same and each persons genetic format is different. The moment of conception isnt the problem; the worries start when, as growing humans, we decide to dress and think and talk the same as the next person. It is a natural part of our development to explore different styles and lifestyles, but what happens when we find one we like? What happens if we all settle on one particular way of life? If it is the same one, could you imagine what the world would be like?
Can you imagine the social enviroment now if Martin Luther King Jr hadnt defied steriotype and made his 'I Have A Dream' speech?
Can you imagine the technology we would have now if Bill gates hadnt gone against his peers and produced Microsoft?
Can you imagine the music industry today if Elvis Presley hadnt ignored all the 'bad-influence' press and rebelled against a society so in need of a scandal?
People throughout history, people like Ghandi, Mother Theresa, Winston Churchill and so many others, have changed the world. But it wasnt because they kept their heads down in a crowd of millions. It wasnt because they nodded and smiled when they felt like screaming and shouting. Its because they had a brain and a mouth and, most importantly, a heart that allowed them to step out of the shaddow of the tidal-wave majority and become the one, individual, splash of hope in a world that is so thirsty.
Life isnt about getting by and getting along. Its about failing, but returning to the core of your idea and being so different that everyone around you gasps and shakes their small minded heads. Life is about being remembered for being yourself, not about being forgotten for being someone else.
Individuality is a quality the world lacks. Unlike accent, skin tone or hair colour, to live to be unique you must be born with it inplanted into your DNA.
Surely this means everyone is unique? As no two people are the same and each persons genetic format is different. The moment of conception isnt the problem; the worries start when, as growing humans, we decide to dress and think and talk the same as the next person. It is a natural part of our development to explore different styles and lifestyles, but what happens when we find one we like? What happens if we all settle on one particular way of life? If it is the same one, could you imagine what the world would be like?
Can you imagine the social enviroment now if Martin Luther King Jr hadnt defied steriotype and made his 'I Have A Dream' speech?
Can you imagine the technology we would have now if Bill gates hadnt gone against his peers and produced Microsoft?
Can you imagine the music industry today if Elvis Presley hadnt ignored all the 'bad-influence' press and rebelled against a society so in need of a scandal?
People throughout history, people like Ghandi, Mother Theresa, Winston Churchill and so many others, have changed the world. But it wasnt because they kept their heads down in a crowd of millions. It wasnt because they nodded and smiled when they felt like screaming and shouting. Its because they had a brain and a mouth and, most importantly, a heart that allowed them to step out of the shaddow of the tidal-wave majority and become the one, individual, splash of hope in a world that is so thirsty.
Life isnt about getting by and getting along. Its about failing, but returning to the core of your idea and being so different that everyone around you gasps and shakes their small minded heads. Life is about being remembered for being yourself, not about being forgotten for being someone else.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
wearing very little, but thinking quite alot
I feel really bad.
I feel as if my blog had become my diary. I seemed to write on here alot, too much perhaps. I had to stop myself from writing here too many times a month.
But, even though its only been a few days or maybe a week sinse i last blogged, i feel i have neglected this website. I've kinda been putting this off, but i've kinda been looking forward to it.
I feel like i have so much to say!
Its weird!
Its like im talking to an old friend who i have loads to catch up on!
I dont want to tell you everything. Else i will literally, literally, be here all night. I will make a short list of things that will probably only make sense to me. Its simply for my use only to compensate for my lack of effort.
- Cups of tea and Lost plots with My Girl. So far, yet to be topped this month. I enjoyed myself so much. I love her dearly.
- Hidden notes and a picnic on my bed. Courtesy of the most amazing boy in the world. And i know i can exaggerate, but this time i'm not.
- www.cheese.com and all that went before it.
- Chilling with Clarabell. Truely the only person that i want to hug when shes pissing me off bad style.
- Not speaking to my boy Matthew for what seems like hundreds of centuries..
- My new found interest in deep convos with Beany.
- 300.... this. is. spartaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.
- Charity events. And the night that followed after.
That not it.
But thats all you're getting.
I'm going to be more regular (wo, deja vu..)
And not just because i'm eating more prunes...
I feel as if my blog had become my diary. I seemed to write on here alot, too much perhaps. I had to stop myself from writing here too many times a month.
But, even though its only been a few days or maybe a week sinse i last blogged, i feel i have neglected this website. I've kinda been putting this off, but i've kinda been looking forward to it.
I feel like i have so much to say!
Its weird!
Its like im talking to an old friend who i have loads to catch up on!
I dont want to tell you everything. Else i will literally, literally, be here all night. I will make a short list of things that will probably only make sense to me. Its simply for my use only to compensate for my lack of effort.
- Cups of tea and Lost plots with My Girl. So far, yet to be topped this month. I enjoyed myself so much. I love her dearly.
- Hidden notes and a picnic on my bed. Courtesy of the most amazing boy in the world. And i know i can exaggerate, but this time i'm not.
- www.cheese.com and all that went before it.
- Chilling with Clarabell. Truely the only person that i want to hug when shes pissing me off bad style.
- Not speaking to my boy Matthew for what seems like hundreds of centuries..
- My new found interest in deep convos with Beany.
- 300.... this. is. spartaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.
- Charity events. And the night that followed after.
That not it.
But thats all you're getting.
I'm going to be more regular (wo, deja vu..)
And not just because i'm eating more prunes...
Monday, February 4, 2008
A Love For Envelopes
Hello.
You look very nice today.
I dont mean to be forward or anything, i thought i would just compliment you before i begin. Only because i know how you feel about compliments. I know you like to give them, but sometimes you feel you dont get them enough.
Come on.
Dont lie.
I know you think that.
You think that you would be happier if a few more nicer sentences were thrown your way now and again... In a totally non-big-headed way, of course.
No but seriously, you look really nice. Your hair is doing that thing i like. When you havent really put much effort in but it looks good.
Your head hurts abit doesnt it? Well, its not really that bad now. But it was abit achey before. Its ok, i know how you feel. I had a bad head before, its cleared up now so i'm sure yours will too.
Seriously, have you done something different with your hair? You actually look like a new person today. Good on you mate, you're looking fiiiine. :)
Ohhh, arnt you going to shut that window? Its abit nippy. You've thought about moving the computer but its too much hastle and youve set yourself up a nice little work space now, so there isnt much point. But it is abit cold, so either shut a door or turn the heating up. I know you're not content with the temperature. I get like that sometimes. I'll be lay in bed and i will just decide to put another layer on or take another layer off. Sometimes, as humans, we just get over-run with the feeling of malcontent and our ever growing need for power makes us change something about our enviroment. I get that. So just sort that radiator out please.
I know you're asking yourself what youre doing here... No, not in the way you dont want to be on my blog, but theres that way more important job youve been meaning to do. Look, im not trying to tell you what to do, but i think you should just get it done and out the way. Think how good you will feel when you are happy with it, it wont be on your mind anymore will it? Just do it bit by bit, thats the best way for a task like that. Then you wont have a big load to do last minute. Just make sure you dont rush it or do it half-heartedly. Thats the worst thing you could do.
Right, i'm going. You should too. You've got much more important things to be getting on with.
Thanks! Thats really nice of you to say so!
Just something i threw together really.
Anyway, see you later.
OH! And dont forget to make that phonecall! We both know it isnt a person you want to let down. So just bare it in mind ok?
Love,
Vicky
xxxxx
You look very nice today.
I dont mean to be forward or anything, i thought i would just compliment you before i begin. Only because i know how you feel about compliments. I know you like to give them, but sometimes you feel you dont get them enough.
Come on.
Dont lie.
I know you think that.
You think that you would be happier if a few more nicer sentences were thrown your way now and again... In a totally non-big-headed way, of course.
No but seriously, you look really nice. Your hair is doing that thing i like. When you havent really put much effort in but it looks good.
Your head hurts abit doesnt it? Well, its not really that bad now. But it was abit achey before. Its ok, i know how you feel. I had a bad head before, its cleared up now so i'm sure yours will too.
Seriously, have you done something different with your hair? You actually look like a new person today. Good on you mate, you're looking fiiiine. :)
Ohhh, arnt you going to shut that window? Its abit nippy. You've thought about moving the computer but its too much hastle and youve set yourself up a nice little work space now, so there isnt much point. But it is abit cold, so either shut a door or turn the heating up. I know you're not content with the temperature. I get like that sometimes. I'll be lay in bed and i will just decide to put another layer on or take another layer off. Sometimes, as humans, we just get over-run with the feeling of malcontent and our ever growing need for power makes us change something about our enviroment. I get that. So just sort that radiator out please.
I know you're asking yourself what youre doing here... No, not in the way you dont want to be on my blog, but theres that way more important job youve been meaning to do. Look, im not trying to tell you what to do, but i think you should just get it done and out the way. Think how good you will feel when you are happy with it, it wont be on your mind anymore will it? Just do it bit by bit, thats the best way for a task like that. Then you wont have a big load to do last minute. Just make sure you dont rush it or do it half-heartedly. Thats the worst thing you could do.
Right, i'm going. You should too. You've got much more important things to be getting on with.
Thanks! Thats really nice of you to say so!
Just something i threw together really.
Anyway, see you later.
OH! And dont forget to make that phonecall! We both know it isnt a person you want to let down. So just bare it in mind ok?
Love,
Vicky
xxxxx
Monday, January 28, 2008
~PAWSGLOB~
so theres this girl, you will probably know her.
its like ive never not, its like shes always been there, somewhere -5,
its like i know so much about her, but really its nothing,
thats where you all have one up on me i guess.
im not her, as you may well have guessed,
far from it infact.
though this is her,
you 'are' in the right place,
im thmttwd.blogspot.com,
alike thevikipedia.blogspot.com,
but crappier.
On here,
shes taller than me,
and a much better speller.
and about 7 ahead in half the time.
So this is real late and way over due,
and if you have come here to read about tricks,
then i apologize, cos you will be mildly disappointed.
cos i'm a few lines and shes a paragraph.
i'm nonsense, she inspires.
i'm powerbook in my studio space, she's laptop lying on her bed.
i'm packed lunch, she's chips barm and gravy,
and shes got someone saving her a place in the queue on 'chip day.'
i've have no time, she makes time.
she's crumpets on cheese sandwiches, i'm microwaved cheese on
bread.
she's on the seats near the sandwich and milk corner, i'm not, i'm on the train next to the the large man/woman, who talks to her/him self and
perspires on me.
i could potentially go through more than a pack a day, and are just
stuck anywhere as my jaw begins to ache, hers are discarded into a
tiny hole as she leaves school.
she doesnt like maths, me either.
who does? well i know one person, and she lives with the shame,
everyday. haha, you all probably wouldn't know her though, but you
should, she's alright.
'you, looking at me, looking at you'...
...cos its all about observationing, and you/me/us looking what shes writing about her, while looking at us. And if there's anyones that is worth reading and thinking about, its hers. its this one. shes real, and not many people are real, with other people and most certainly themselves, she is.
i don't really know where to go from here, i don't think im making sense, and if this were a piece of paper i probabaly would have started again at 'so'. but its not and its here and ill probably add to this, when i realise its nothing when put at the side of 'dont adjust your set, this is a Blogswap...'
ahhhh well.
end transmission,
forget transmisson.
lets do this again,
ill do better next time,
i promise.
//MTT
its like ive never not, its like shes always been there, somewhere -5,
its like i know so much about her, but really its nothing,
thats where you all have one up on me i guess.
im not her, as you may well have guessed,
far from it infact.
though this is her,
you 'are' in the right place,
im thmttwd.blogspot.com,
alike thevikipedia.blogspot.com,
but crappier.
On here,
shes taller than me,
and a much better speller.
and about 7 ahead in half the time.
So this is real late and way over due,
and if you have come here to read about tricks,
then i apologize, cos you will be mildly disappointed.
cos i'm a few lines and shes a paragraph.
i'm nonsense, she inspires.
i'm powerbook in my studio space, she's laptop lying on her bed.
i'm packed lunch, she's chips barm and gravy,
and shes got someone saving her a place in the queue on 'chip day.'
i've have no time, she makes time.
she's crumpets on cheese sandwiches, i'm microwaved cheese on
bread.
she's on the seats near the sandwich and milk corner, i'm not, i'm on the train next to the the large man/woman, who talks to her/him self and
perspires on me.
i could potentially go through more than a pack a day, and are just
stuck anywhere as my jaw begins to ache, hers are discarded into a
tiny hole as she leaves school.
she doesnt like maths, me either.
who does? well i know one person, and she lives with the shame,
everyday. haha, you all probably wouldn't know her though, but you
should, she's alright.
'you, looking at me, looking at you'...
...cos its all about observationing, and you/me/us looking what shes writing about her, while looking at us. And if there's anyones that is worth reading and thinking about, its hers. its this one. shes real, and not many people are real, with other people and most certainly themselves, she is.
i don't really know where to go from here, i don't think im making sense, and if this were a piece of paper i probabaly would have started again at 'so'. but its not and its here and ill probably add to this, when i realise its nothing when put at the side of 'dont adjust your set, this is a Blogswap...'
ahhhh well.
end transmission,
forget transmisson.
lets do this again,
ill do better next time,
i promise.
//MTT
Monday, January 21, 2008
Now thats a fire!
I will be impressed if i ever meet someone under the age of 30 who knows what i am talking about when i say 'Now thatsa firre!'
I'm watching room 101. I have a white drama mask tied against my mirror, it scares me in the night. Some people have never seen Grease; i find that unbeleivable. There is a conifer in my back garden that leans slightly to the left. Each corner of my headboard has a plastic crown on the pole. The person who lives across the road from me gets ants nests every year. I contantly feel inadiquit at things that i know i'm good at. I dont like maths. I drink more tea than my elderly Nan. One day i will ride on the orient express. I fancy Harrison Ford. My nails only get painted with a colour on when theyre long enough to be seen over the top of my fingers. There is a half eaten Galaxy chocolate egg resting on my remote control. My straighteners are wrapped up in a 'neat' formationn on my tele-cabinet. I played keyboard for about half a month. I went to Byrchall, mainly for the reason my friends did and i didnt want to miss anything. Fiona Phillips is too cheerful for that time in the morning. I'm trying to convince myself that i'm organised enough for tomorrow. I'm clearly not. I've just eaten the Galaxy egg. I dont know what the FTSE is. Rollin' with the homies. I really like Elizabeth Arden, 5th Ave. I wish i spoke french as successfully as i french kiss. Oceanic flight 815 takes over most of my time. Markets go up, markets go down. I lose umbrellas alot. There is a fake red rose on top of my un-used sterio system, a button hole from new year. I've stuck pictures all around the monitor of my old computer. I know what dress i'd like for my leavers dinner. Now thatsa firre.
Love, from, Vicky....x
I'm watching room 101. I have a white drama mask tied against my mirror, it scares me in the night. Some people have never seen Grease; i find that unbeleivable. There is a conifer in my back garden that leans slightly to the left. Each corner of my headboard has a plastic crown on the pole. The person who lives across the road from me gets ants nests every year. I contantly feel inadiquit at things that i know i'm good at. I dont like maths. I drink more tea than my elderly Nan. One day i will ride on the orient express. I fancy Harrison Ford. My nails only get painted with a colour on when theyre long enough to be seen over the top of my fingers. There is a half eaten Galaxy chocolate egg resting on my remote control. My straighteners are wrapped up in a 'neat' formationn on my tele-cabinet. I played keyboard for about half a month. I went to Byrchall, mainly for the reason my friends did and i didnt want to miss anything. Fiona Phillips is too cheerful for that time in the morning. I'm trying to convince myself that i'm organised enough for tomorrow. I'm clearly not. I've just eaten the Galaxy egg. I dont know what the FTSE is. Rollin' with the homies. I really like Elizabeth Arden, 5th Ave. I wish i spoke french as successfully as i french kiss. Oceanic flight 815 takes over most of my time. Markets go up, markets go down. I lose umbrellas alot. There is a fake red rose on top of my un-used sterio system, a button hole from new year. I've stuck pictures all around the monitor of my old computer. I know what dress i'd like for my leavers dinner. Now thatsa firre.
Love, from, Vicky....x
Friday, January 18, 2008
Baby whats your name?
Possibly the most famous person in history, Anon has provided the planet with countless works of literary genius. From simple nursery rhymes to hymns and songs, the assortment of classic and contemporary works tend to differ in length, content and target audience.
Anon, or Mr. A as he is occasionally known, has been tracked down and tackled. For the first time in history (to some extent, a Google search will reward you with numerous quotes from the man himself...) Anon will answer the one question people from a trillion different countries and cultures would like to know the answer to.
Anon.; Who are you?
I find that a hard question to answer. I find that I am everybody. I am the rebelish side to you that wants to write your name in a maths text book. I am the reserved side of you that feels unpretty and just wants to hide in the corner all night. I am the regretful side to you that wishes you hadnt said that last stupid sentence. I am the unpredictable side to you that makes an uncharacteristically embarrassing action at an inappropriate time. I am the apprehensive side to you that wants to write thoughts without wanting to claim them. I am the bitchy side of you that feels the urge to add 'No comment' or 'but you didnt hear it from me..' at the end of each breath. I, after an eternity and a day of thinking, have decided that I am nobody. I am just a hidden compartment to everyones brain. Some choose to live by me, others gag me and ignore me. Depending on who you are, i can be your friend or your foe. You can be so scared of yourself, that i become the only thing you ever trust, alternatively; the opposite could apply. Conclusively, i am afraid i cannot answer you. I am everybody, some people and nobody all in one... But dont quote me on that.
Anon, or Mr. A as he is occasionally known, has been tracked down and tackled. For the first time in history (to some extent, a Google search will reward you with numerous quotes from the man himself...) Anon will answer the one question people from a trillion different countries and cultures would like to know the answer to.
Anon.; Who are you?
I find that a hard question to answer. I find that I am everybody. I am the rebelish side to you that wants to write your name in a maths text book. I am the reserved side of you that feels unpretty and just wants to hide in the corner all night. I am the regretful side to you that wishes you hadnt said that last stupid sentence. I am the unpredictable side to you that makes an uncharacteristically embarrassing action at an inappropriate time. I am the apprehensive side to you that wants to write thoughts without wanting to claim them. I am the bitchy side of you that feels the urge to add 'No comment' or 'but you didnt hear it from me..' at the end of each breath. I, after an eternity and a day of thinking, have decided that I am nobody. I am just a hidden compartment to everyones brain. Some choose to live by me, others gag me and ignore me. Depending on who you are, i can be your friend or your foe. You can be so scared of yourself, that i become the only thing you ever trust, alternatively; the opposite could apply. Conclusively, i am afraid i cannot answer you. I am everybody, some people and nobody all in one... But dont quote me on that.
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
The Polyneats perfroming Jump Down.
I was proud of you when the votes were counted. The look on your face when we danced told me that the rented dinner jacket was worth its weight in Cherry Lambrini stains. But mostly, it was just when the papers were scattered across the living room floor and everyone was laughing in agreement at the reasons on them.
Seeing Aaron out the window listening to his brick. He was walking next Louise and she was talking but it was shamefully obvious he was paying very little attention and concentrating more on Modest Mouse or MIA. He looked up from watching his new 'Alex B' shoes and waved at me. Giving me the best of his Aaron-smiles, his eyes seemed to tell me something; a message i couldn't identify. I waved back and turned to look at Soph to see her sat opposite. She was moodily out of the bus window looking at something but clearly taking no notice of it. To someone who knows her, you could tell she was having happy thoughts. To someone who doesn't, you would think she was ready to cry.
The look on the face of Ben 'He's so deeeep' Pickles when his younger sibling was pounding his back with her fist screaming "GO AND GET A HOMOSEXUAL LIFE PISS-FEATURES!" I, regrettably, saw the whole thing from my seat at the top of he stairs in KenfordDrive.. (all one word, as it now gets referred to as nothing else). Her dusty old keyboard perched on my knee, tears streamed down my face and i had to control myself as i made an attempt to distract her with my musical talents, an impression of the boy that started the conflict in the first place. It was pure coincidence that he was, unbeknown to us all, about to knock on her front door. I've never laughed as much in my life.
The memorable, yet somewhat hazy, moment i first saw the lake at Alton Towers. In all its misty-mid-autumn glory. This moment was followed by a row over which way was the quickest to get to the most sought after ride of the day.
Walking through the quad. Ipod ear to me, iPod ear to her. I told the story of Egan and Jenny. I told her all about the story behind the song and how i though she might like it. I remember seeing the reflection of her in Vardens black curtained window - the brief-glance looking glass of every image conscious teenager at Byrchall. I saw her look in to it. To this day, i don't know whether i imagined her wiping a tear from her eye.. or whether it actually fell. Concluding, and symbolising that she had heard enough, she removed the headphone and said these exact words; It's a nice song if you have something to relate it to.
Driving into Glasgow with my dad. Seeing the run down estates and the local people going about their daily lives. His football anthems CD was on in his old car and i was sat in the front seat questioning my sanity. I couldnt quite remember what i was thinking when i agreed to come along. Maybe it was just my willingness for a drive? I dont know. But i remember seeing the Ibrox stadium. My dads face lit up as he pulled into a parking space. He knew his way around the these streets as if he'd lived there all his life. I realised my father dearest wasnt in his home-town. He wasnt even in his own country. But he felt so at home and complete in this city that he jumped out the car as if held at gun point. It was clear, my dad loved it here. I could just tell.
Country roads in Newquay. My heart stopped when i saw Lusty Glaze. Greenday's album American Idiot was pretty much the soundtrack to what would turn out to be the most life-changing week of my life.
Sat in a corner of a grubby on-site pub. My nearest and dearest around me. Phone on the table next to a luke-warm bottle of WKD. The meatloaf tribute act blasting away a version of a classic. As the songs changed his muffled voice pounded over the speaker system announcing his next ensamble. I had other things on my mind. Clarris looked at me slyly. She knew what was coming. A rendition of 'No matter What' began in the back ground as i read the text on my phone. From that moment onwards, my life had been changed. To put a good end to the perfect week.
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