“One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem,
see a fine picture, and, if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable
words.”
―
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe,
Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship
To survive this life, it is important to find the value in the storm. Yet, the truth is, everyone struggles. Life and Death serve a purpose, one that can be hidden by the clouds, and it is up to the indiviual to find that value. It is not enough to merely wish for the storm to pass, but to find the beauty with in it - the sun. It may take days, months, even years, but that moment will shine through.
My sunshine was found hidden within me; yes that is probably the most cliched sentence ever used in the history of the English Language, yet it deems itself true. One cannot move on without looking at oneself in the mirror and seeing the beauty of Life inside. A heart so close to being blackened and cold forever, found content and joy in the simplest of everyday pleasures. It was so easy for me to be cold and unforgiving when the cards gave out so much darkness, and turning those storms into light was harder to do. Yet somehow, I found it - the reason to breathe each morning, the reason not to use a fake smile - it was myself.
At the age of 25, I still have a lot of the world to see. However, I am finally happy with the life I am living; a Year 2 teacher living in the UAE. That was definitely not something expected of me when I was back at school. I had to prove a lot of people wrong. I became a teacher to help nurture and challenge the young minds of the future, but also let them know that they can become whatever they want, no matter what someone else thinks. They can create their own sunshine.
I will not be out here in the UAE forever, I hope to bring that little bit of happiness back to the UK, back to my home. I always said I needed a reason to go back, love and family, but I know I am going back for me. It's where I belong. Another year out in the Middle East, and the door on this storm will be closed but not forgotten. I have made many wonderful and shiny memories, friendships may not last but they were needed and blessed. They made me who I am today. Each event taught me to stay true to myself, to be content in what I have, no need to search for something that was not necessary.
It may be so that my anxiety and depression will always follow me around, but it lets me know I am only human. Soon as I forgot who I am,when the clouds take over, I know it is time to open a new book, listen to a new song and I will come back to me.
Life is strangely beautiful - it takes one decision to alter the path you are on, but don't question it. Take that chance, follow your instinct, and do all the other cheesy life quotes that go with this. Life is meant to be lived, it is meant to be enjoyed. Find that reason and make it your sunshine. You have the right to enjoy it. Don't spend your time thinking of the what if's, go for it! I really don't want to end this post cheesier than my nachos at Paco's but what they say is true.You have sunshine on a cloudy day!
Now to find someone to share my sunshine with.
Melissa
Otherwordly
Showing posts with label choices. Show all posts
Showing posts with label choices. Show all posts
Wednesday, 26 April 2017
Monday, 26 December 2016
That Whatsapp Message. (previously When it Hurts)
This life offers many paths for you to choose from, yet hindsight into which one to walk down would be more beneficial. Imagine all the bad choices suddenly taken away, no longer available. The right choices so crystal clear every thing else comes easier. If only.
Instead life likes to throw you curve balls, making sure you aren't too happy or too sad. It can be exciting but when emotions of other people it can be, for a lack of a better word, fucking impossible to navigate. How hard is it to tell someone how you feel about them. Screw the consequences! You may have been down that path with the same person for many years, but each time you discover something new about each other. Time passes by and you keep thinking about the one that got away. That person just sits there in the back of your head and you wonder what if. What if you could meet up one more time? What if you kissed? Would it feel the same? Would it be different? What if you could give it one more shot? What if this time it worked out? But life doesn't work that way. No instead it's a one way ticket to those thoughts. The other person doesn't really think the same about you. What's done is done. Your heart breaks at the thought of it. That's it one path has been walked down and then destroyed. Even though you don't want to. You want to scream at them, tell them how much you care.
Yet it won't change anything.
You want him to fight for you, tell you that he feels the same. You want him to tell you that he understands your riddled with anxiety and you are simply protecting yourself by pulling away. You want him to message you telling you that he will wait. But that will never happen. You have gone pas the point of no return now. That silly message saying you can't talk to him just proves nothing has changed from the last time you saw each other. That you will only end up hurting him like you did many years ago.
You keep playing the last memory you had of each other, wrapped up in a little bubble, ignoring reality. Adult life always seems to complicate things and axiety and depression likes to seep in there too sometimes. You think to yourself, you should have told him there and then that you want him to be there in the summer. You want him and only him - his flaws included. But that will never happen
Instead you chose to let him go. Not give him a choice in the matter. Not let him tell his side, his feelings even if it is difficult for him. He has to protect his self too. Now all that is left, is let him find a new love. Someone that will care for him better than you can. Even if it kills you, you have to let it go.
You want him to fight for you, tell you that he feels the same. You want him to tell you that he understands your riddled with anxiety and you are simply protecting yourself by pulling away. You want him to message you telling you that he will wait. But that will never happen. You have gone pas the point of no return now. That silly message saying you can't talk to him just proves nothing has changed from the last time you saw each other. That you will only end up hurting him like you did many years ago.
You keep playing the last memory you had of each other, wrapped up in a little bubble, ignoring reality. Adult life always seems to complicate things and axiety and depression likes to seep in there too sometimes. You think to yourself, you should have told him there and then that you want him to be there in the summer. You want him and only him - his flaws included. But that will never happen
Instead you chose to let him go. Not give him a choice in the matter. Not let him tell his side, his feelings even if it is difficult for him. He has to protect his self too. Now all that is left, is let him find a new love. Someone that will care for him better than you can. Even if it kills you, you have to let it go.
Choose another path to walk down darling, cause when it hurts, you are still alive.
Saturday, 25 April 2015
The career
“Mr. Franz, I think careers are a 20th century invention and I don't want one.”
― Jon Krakauer, Into the Wild
Right now that's how I feel. I don't want to work. I don't want to be tied in a position that I will have to live in for the rest of my life. I don't want to be backed into a corner, explaining all my decisions to someone in a higher positon. To someone who doesn't see me at my best, only my worst.
This past week has had me all distracted. I recently got a promotion at work and now it's left me all dazed. I am no longer in my zone; I don't have the energy to teach anymore. There's no laughter in my voice. Every little thing a child does angers or upsets me. Other teachers have noticed this too. No appetite, loss of weight, clumsiness and being unaware of objects/people around me. Many thought it was because of a boy. I did too. That was until I saw my new job description lying on my apartment floor. Performance will be reviewed. That was it. It was those words that send my mind into a whirlwind of panic. No not panic, more like numbness.
I keep thinking to myself, I am too young for this. 2 years teaching experience is not enough to lead a team. How can anyone take me serious? How can I support a group of teachers if I can barely support myself?
Apparently I can, as I am constantly reminded. You wouldn't have this opportunity if you couldn't do it. Actually I realised the reason why I have this position; it's not because I can help others around me, lead and inspire, but because I helped complete a few administrative tasks - something anybody could do. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. There are other teachers better suited for the position and I am constantly reminded of that when I see their face, the change in atmosphere when I enter the room or even the comments to the line manager.
It's unfair of me to be ungrateful for this role and I simply must give it time, people time to adjust, and time for me to realise how I can handle this.
The question is: how much time?
Saturday, 15 November 2014
Life after Books
”
but there is this unwritten contract between author and reader and I think not ending your book kind of violates that contract.”
John Green, The Fault in Our Stars
I recently read a book by John Green Fault in Our Stars and it was definitely an interesting read. Now I am not going to write a review on this story because I have my opinion and that is mine only. However, it made some interesting points about characters and endings of stories, and it made me question my own thoughts.
When a story is placed upon paper, characters and situations are born. They may not be real in existence, but they are real on the page. They are given a background, a life, a history, upon which they evolve into deeper beings. Simply immortalized in words. They are brought to life through their personalities. We learn their likes, dislikes, their ability to bond with other characters. No being is created from thin air. Even those that maybe only mentioned once or twice, they still play a part. It is this creation that poses a problem. As a reader you form your own opinion of each character, you seem to bond with them, learn to love or hate them. Yet when the problem of the story has been solved and the book comes to a close, you face a problem. Does that story really end there? What happens afterwards? Is the light turned off for good? Are these characters thrown in to a disposal bin of endings?
It was this thought that puzzled me the most. Do we really need to know what happens after that last page has ended, after that last period? If a story ends in a happen ending, is it really necessary to think about them more? The answer is no. They are simply words on a page that have been written for our enjoyment only. They are not biographies of life. They are not real people. It is not realistic to end all stories with a happy ending, the characters living a perfect life with everything resolved and dying peacefully in their sleep. That itself would pose more questions than answers.
So what if a story ends in the middle, not completing the story. Take Hazel for example, the reader learns everything, if not more, that we need to know as if she was a real being beside us. Yet as the story progresses, so does our attachment to the character. This is our downfall. When the story dramatically ends, with no explanation, we are left with disappointment. What happened next? Did she live happily? Was she cured? The only person who knows is the character herself. Even her creator doesn't know. It is in this ending that we are able to write our own endings. Each one unique as the person next to us. Yes we may still be left with that question , what happened, burning our curiosity bit by bit, but stories life this imitate life perfectly. Just as 'stories end in the middle of a sentence' with no reason, our life can end at any second, without reason and those around will be left asking questions.
It is simply our nature to question everything and not to take it at face value. It is what it is. This is why I think John Green has hit the proverbial nail on the head. I would leave this post in the middle of a sentence, but I do not have the will power to do so.
So I will leave it with this conclusion. Forming your own answers in your mind is more appropriate than reading a solid ending in a story. You can create your own world for these characters, and no one will question it.
John Green, The Fault in Our Stars
I recently read a book by John Green Fault in Our Stars and it was definitely an interesting read. Now I am not going to write a review on this story because I have my opinion and that is mine only. However, it made some interesting points about characters and endings of stories, and it made me question my own thoughts.
When a story is placed upon paper, characters and situations are born. They may not be real in existence, but they are real on the page. They are given a background, a life, a history, upon which they evolve into deeper beings. Simply immortalized in words. They are brought to life through their personalities. We learn their likes, dislikes, their ability to bond with other characters. No being is created from thin air. Even those that maybe only mentioned once or twice, they still play a part. It is this creation that poses a problem. As a reader you form your own opinion of each character, you seem to bond with them, learn to love or hate them. Yet when the problem of the story has been solved and the book comes to a close, you face a problem. Does that story really end there? What happens afterwards? Is the light turned off for good? Are these characters thrown in to a disposal bin of endings?
It was this thought that puzzled me the most. Do we really need to know what happens after that last page has ended, after that last period? If a story ends in a happen ending, is it really necessary to think about them more? The answer is no. They are simply words on a page that have been written for our enjoyment only. They are not biographies of life. They are not real people. It is not realistic to end all stories with a happy ending, the characters living a perfect life with everything resolved and dying peacefully in their sleep. That itself would pose more questions than answers.
So what if a story ends in the middle, not completing the story. Take Hazel for example, the reader learns everything, if not more, that we need to know as if she was a real being beside us. Yet as the story progresses, so does our attachment to the character. This is our downfall. When the story dramatically ends, with no explanation, we are left with disappointment. What happened next? Did she live happily? Was she cured? The only person who knows is the character herself. Even her creator doesn't know. It is in this ending that we are able to write our own endings. Each one unique as the person next to us. Yes we may still be left with that question , what happened, burning our curiosity bit by bit, but stories life this imitate life perfectly. Just as 'stories end in the middle of a sentence' with no reason, our life can end at any second, without reason and those around will be left asking questions.
It is simply our nature to question everything and not to take it at face value. It is what it is. This is why I think John Green has hit the proverbial nail on the head. I would leave this post in the middle of a sentence, but I do not have the will power to do so.
So I will leave it with this conclusion. Forming your own answers in your mind is more appropriate than reading a solid ending in a story. You can create your own world for these characters, and no one will question it.
Wednesday, 9 April 2014
The End is Near
The end is near. Well for my contract in the Middle East
that is. It is hard to believe that this time last year I had sent off my CV to
a teaching agency on a whim. I wasn’t hoping to get an interview after all I
hadn’t even completed the PCET course. I had a back plan of course – supply
teaching. I didn’t want to raise my hopes for them to be knocked back down. Yet
never in a million years would I have thought of applying for a full-time
teaching position in the Middle East. For me to do that I would have to step
out of my comfort zone and open myself to rejection on a grander scale. Nevertheless I put myself out there and
waited for the inevitable reply. I didn’t have to wait long though. A few days
later and I received an offer letter to be signed and returned as soon as possible. Time after that
seemed to pass in a blink of an eye. A
year on and I am currently going through the same progress – signing an offer
letter for next yet.
The thing that has me most excited is my vacation time in
July. I will be going home. Though I will only be in the UK for four weeks as I
have my very own Euro-trip booked; by Euro-trip I mean Newcastle – Amsterdam –
Rotterdam – Stockholm – Gothenburg. Hopefully my next summer vacation will
include Finland, Hungary and Denmark. When discussing my plans with my family
over skype, my brother appeared and stated I should visit Krakow, Poland. His
reasoning for this, which is horribly amusing, is to see how many Polish live
there since the UK is swarmed with them. Slightly racist brother I have there.
I have been thinking about my plans for the British summer
and I realised I will definitely need to make time for my best friend’s first
new-born baby. I am so ecstatic for her.
It’s surreal that the girl I grew up
with for eleven years is about to be a mother.
She’s all grown up now. It also reminds of my little girl waiting at
home for me – my beautiful nightmare of a niece. I can’t wait to shower her in
kisses and maybe cause some mischief around the town with her. My Lillie-bug is
one hilarious child. I am so grateful that she hasn’t forgotten me.
In other news, someone recently mentioned to me about
remembering me when I have published my work and it got me thinking; why do I
need to publish my work? Is it to earn money? For someone criticise my work
publicly? So everyone knows who I am? If these are the reasons then my answer is no. I write to let my
feelings out. I am not bothered if no-one or everyone reads it. It’s my hobby,
my own pleasure – no-one else’s. I may link my posts on social network sites,
but that is so one of my good friends can read it- and nothing else.
I am currently in the middle of writing a book – continuing
what I had started in university for an assignment. Again this is for me only;
to see what I can accomplish. I remember listening to my English tutor say to
me: “Even if you only write a 100 words a week, you can still write a complete novella or even a novel, but it all
depends on your state of mind and whether you want to finish something you
have started.” This stuck with me for 3 years, but I didn’t return to my story
until recently.
It’s amazing what changes a person can go through without
really knowing. I am still the girl who watches the world rather than
participates, but at the end of the day I know what risks are worth taking and
which choices are simply unrealistic. Whether it’s my upcoming plans for the
summer, or my continuous need to write something, I know life has plenty of
things in store for me.
Well that s enough writing for now,
See you on the other side of the Internet
Melissa
Sunday, 16 March 2014
Six month catch-up with MJR
Well so far I have climbed a mountain - albeit in a car. The view was amazing, seeing the whole of Al Ain was a spectacular vision. I also attended the first game in the new Al Ain stadium. I hate football but it was a good day out even if I was hungover. The school also allowed us to attend the Red Bull AirRace in Abu Dhabi. Again I hate planes...but the whole twisting and turning and the aerobatic show afterwards was immense.
It's hard to believe that 6months has gone by, and only 4 months till I can visit the UK again. I can't wait to get a decent social life. My personal life here is quite abysmal. Lent has made it quite hard to enjoy the past 10 days as well. No fast food, no chocolate, no alcohol, no pleasures. However, I did cheat - I accidentally ate chocolate courtesy to Sheenal's cake-in-a-cup. It was only due to the fact that I was amazed that a cake could be made in a cup in just 90 seconds. It tasted so delicious. Luckily, the no alcohol rule is still standing. I have been placed in temptations way quite a lot.
Speaking of temptations, the reason why I have used MJR in my post is because of a new nickname that I have acquired during my time here. I normally hate nicknames but this one I kind of like. Obviously it's my initials, but it's simple. Maybe I only liked it because of the person who gave me it. When he says MJR, it's like velvet rolling of his tongue. He is a bass player in the local bar I attend - yeah I seem to attract the bassists - but he's rather sweet when he wants to be. His cute ass has also gotten me in to trouble a few times too. Crazy bitches following him around have expressed their distaste in me knowing him; hey that's another story that could take forever to type up. Anyways enough about him and more about my vacation.
So two weeks and two days off will finally give me a chance to see Dubai. That's right. I have lived here for 6 months and all I have seen is Dubai airport and Abu Dhabi beach. I will be venturing out by myself as the others will be on their holidays in other countries. I don't mind going alone, but some company would be nice. So I've planned for Dubai, Abu Dhabi and maybe Oman if I can fit it in to my budget. Who knows.
Well this is all I can be bothered to type at the moment. I'm sure those that read this have me on social network sites can catch-up with me on there.
Tuesday, 10 December 2013
University Stories Part 2: Where My Demons Hide
N.B: The following story have been edited (though incomplete) though your comments on improving the stories are recommended.
Where My Demons Hide
Prologue
Mörk drew a knife from his jet black trousers and quietly picked the lock of the door. His master's task may seem cruel and unjustified to the mortals, but to Mörk and those of his world it was simply second nature - kill or be killed. He knew he was a cold-blooded creature that didn't care for any human being in the world; his father had made sure of that. Mörk childhood had held no happy memories, for it was marked only by abuse he had been subjected to by his father; cold, familiar words blaring fresh in his consciousness as his jacket rubbed against old lash wounds. "You should never feel fear. You should be the creator of fear. You are a being of power." There was no longer any blood running through his body, just pure venom.
His kind, the majestic Giant race, lived undetected and safe in the mountains of Fjällhästen. He wouldn't exactly call it home though, no, home suggested a place of warmth and loving - he had experienced neither. The humans had no idea what was happening right under their noses. Cold-blooded gen-one immortals, those whom have suffered abuse from their parents from a young age during their training to show and feel no emotion were at war with a human-immortal hybrid. No matter how discreet the war is in the mortal world, the humans always ended up in the cross-fire. None of these creatures could let the greater world find out what was happening.
His kind, the majestic Giant race, lived undetected and safe in the mountains of Fjällhästen. He wouldn't exactly call it home though, no, home suggested a place of warmth and loving - he had experienced neither. The humans had no idea what was happening right under their noses. Cold-blooded gen-one immortals, those whom have suffered abuse from their parents from a young age during their training to show and feel no emotion were at war with a human-immortal hybrid. No matter how discreet the war is in the mortal world, the humans always ended up in the cross-fire. None of these creatures could let the greater world find out what was happening.
**********************************
"Dammit" A quiet voice went unquestioned in the ridiculously small lounge. Astrid's eyes glared at the ancient television displaying an unsuccessful repeat of a show that should not have been aired once never mind again. Below the television sat a dilapidated coffee table which most definitely could not remember its better days. No matter how much she wished for a better life than one she was living, her career prospects were not exactly reachable.It was for her little angel Darcy that Astrid struggled onwards, making the best of her poor situation. Miss Darcy-Elizabeth was her life and the only happiness Astrid could allow herself, for all the money she earned at a local bar went on little Darcy's happiness. Her little girl wasn't spoilt; Mattie just wanted to provide her with a normal and healthy childhood since hers wasn't particularly special. Her parents tried to provide what they could, given the circumstances of her working class background, and she could tell they were struggling financially but the love and attention was all she ever needed. If only they were here she thought. She could use her parents right now. Fresh tears started to fall from her eyes. Quickly she wiped them away before she started the whole expression of grief again.
She tried a new direction of thought, something to distract her from the pain. But she had nothing. Not even the simple action of letting her imagination run wild just like the books she would read. That pleasure always ended up with heartbreak, with romance and Prince Charming being her clichéd thoughts. How she ended up being a 23 year old single mother with a 2 year old daughter, was beyond her. Not that she regretted the events which led to this situation. The part that annoyed her was the fact that her childhood sweetheart had found a new love interest in her close friend. Her love life now was more drastic. She never felt like she needed to be with anyone else. She never wanted someone else to disappear from Darcy's life. Her insecurities of not being beautiful enough for love always had her thinking of herself being a plain-Jane girl.
Her eyes had just closed when they quickly re-opened as she realised that Darcy hadn't woken up to see where she was at. Her daughter was like that, acting like a mother towards her, the roles being reversed. She always knew when Astrid was upset or just needed comforting. She slowly moved herself off the couch and headed towards the bedroom of her small and dingy flat. Opening the creaky door, that needed to be sorted out, she looked into the room and found her daughter fast asleep clutching her little Care-bear with small hands. She quietly crept into the room and crawled into the bed and held her protectively against her chest. What she would do to give this sleeping beauty a stable life. Her eyes started to feel heavy and began to close, but she never felt safe enough to get a well needed sleep. The room itself was full of damp, and had the temperature of a snowy day. Still her body protested until she finally gave in. Just this once though.
Startled by a noise, Astrid's eyes flew open. Her body froze. Was it her imagination? Or had the water pipes burst again? A little shaken, she rolled out of bed and crept towards the door.
**********************************
The front door opened with a slight creak. He came to a halt, and listened for any
disturbance that he had created. Nothing. Moving forward with silent
footsteps, he scoured the room for any sign of human life. He quickly headed towards the door
besides the kitchen, and in his haste he knocked off a glass that hadn't
been placed correctly on the worn wooden side table. No amount of power he possessed would have hidden that noise. "Djävlar!" Yes, he knew she was behind that door and it had disturbed her, but it
wouldn't help by attracting attention to himself just yet.
He heard small and soft footsteps moving across the room behind the door he was currently heading towards, when all of a sudden they stopped. The handle started to move downwards and the door opened slowly. Mörk put his hand into his pocket attached to his jacket, retrieving a cloth doused in chloroform; fortunately for Astrid , the amount used was not enough to kill, merely to subdue.
As the door opened, the human revealed herself. With no time to waste he brought the cloth to her face and smothered her mouth and nose. She kicked and squirmed trying to escape. Such a
Dumskalle! he thought. Such a stupid little human. A few moments later she fell limp into his arms. As he flung her over his shoulder his gaze fell upon another human lying soundlessly asleep, unaware of the commotion surrounding her. "Great, what am I to do now?" he said to himself; no point in being quiet since he had his main target. The only thing he could do was dump the unconscious body into the back of the van.
Still he felt no emotions for what he was about to do but he wished he did. Did he really have to act so callously towards the female? Yes.
Mörk moved swiftly back to the house and picked up the other human, which he noticed was a little baby girl who seemed to sleep like the dead. Heading back to the van once more, he opened the door in a quick movement then stopped, frozen. An unknown feeling came across him. He looked at the little one and re-thought his of acting so harsh. He carefully laid her across the seat and wove together a makeshift baby seat with his hands. Thin pieces of thread weaved in and out of one another until the process was complete. Magic. One way of using my power for something other than death. He fastened the human's daughter next to the driver's seat and climbed in. With a quiet hum of the engine turning, he drove off into the silent and deadly night. This had been the only time he had actually been close to feeling something like emotion. Love.
He heard small and soft footsteps moving across the room behind the door he was currently heading towards, when all of a sudden they stopped. The handle started to move downwards and the door opened slowly. Mörk put his hand into his pocket attached to his jacket, retrieving a cloth doused in chloroform; fortunately for Astrid , the amount used was not enough to kill, merely to subdue.
As the door opened, the human revealed herself. With no time to waste he brought the cloth to her face and smothered her mouth and nose. She kicked and squirmed trying to escape. Such a
Dumskalle! he thought. Such a stupid little human. A few moments later she fell limp into his arms. As he flung her over his shoulder his gaze fell upon another human lying soundlessly asleep, unaware of the commotion surrounding her. "Great, what am I to do now?" he said to himself; no point in being quiet since he had his main target. The only thing he could do was dump the unconscious body into the back of the van.
Still he felt no emotions for what he was about to do but he wished he did. Did he really have to act so callously towards the female? Yes.
Mörk moved swiftly back to the house and picked up the other human, which he noticed was a little baby girl who seemed to sleep like the dead. Heading back to the van once more, he opened the door in a quick movement then stopped, frozen. An unknown feeling came across him. He looked at the little one and re-thought his of acting so harsh. He carefully laid her across the seat and wove together a makeshift baby seat with his hands. Thin pieces of thread weaved in and out of one another until the process was complete. Magic. One way of using my power for something other than death. He fastened the human's daughter next to the driver's seat and climbed in. With a quiet hum of the engine turning, he drove off into the silent and deadly night. This had been the only time he had actually been close to feeling something like emotion. Love.
**********************************
**********************************
She had spotted him from across the bar. His eyes had distracted her;
something that had made her freeze. The icy blue bore into hers. She
silently questioned what colour her eyes were. Would they be hazel with
curiosity or green with lust? Whatever the colour, she knew it wouldn't
end well for one of them - one of them would be dead. Which outcome
would be the worst was something she wasn't sure off.
Astrid awoke with an oppressive headache. She hoped that what she had seen was a weird dream, something her mind had created which normally happened living in the place she did. Her eyes opened and it was completely dark with a little light coming through a gap in the wall, and instantly she knew something was up. She tried to open her mouth and realised she couldn't –something was stopping her. Her hands reached up to remove the offending object and noticed her hands were tied together with some sort of rough material. What the-moving her gaze to her feet, she found rope around her ankles. Ok no need to panic. Actually maybe I do. I can't scream I can't move. No this is all a dream I will close my eyes again and open them and then maybe I will be back at home in my God-damn uncomfortable bed. She thought. Then she realised, the vivid nightmare she had last night wasn't a nightmare, it was reality. And this - Where was Darcy? Her baby Darcy. She felt her eyes starting to close again. NO she mentally shouted. She had to stay awake. She had to find a way out and find Darcy. Only she couldn't. Her body slumped against the wall as she slipped under a fog of confusion again.
A sudden jerk woke her up once more. She looked around and again saw nothing. She didn't have much time to process where she was at as light poured into the darkness and pain shot through her eyes.
"Good you're up." A rough voice came from somewhere in front of her. "Now I'm going to take off this tape from around your mouth if you promise not to make noise. I can't deal with that silly response right now. Nod your head if you are going to scream"
She automatically nodded her head. She wanted someone to possibly notice her and the monster of a man. However it seemed that this guy was a violent type as she felt a sting in her cheek. Her eyes widened and tears began to flow.
"I'll ask you again, are you going to scream if I take this off you?" his voice sounded even rougher and scarier than the last time. She shook her head. As much as she wanted to scream, her body simply wouldn't allow it; she had no energy, no willpower to refuse.
"Well done" he said, this time patronising and evil. His hand went to rip the tape when he stopped "actually I think I will leave this on since you will probably scream when it tears your skin apart." What surprised her after he had spoken was the sound that came out after those seemingly kind words, was his laugh. It was beautiful but dark. It sent shivers down her spine and she daringly took a glance at her kidnapper.
A sudden jerk woke her up once more. She looked around and again saw nothing. She didn't have much time to process where she was at as light poured into the darkness and pain shot through her eyes.
"Good you're up." A rough voice came from somewhere in front of her. "Now I'm going to take off this tape from around your mouth if you promise not to make noise. I can't deal with that silly response right now. Nod your head if you are going to scream"
She automatically nodded her head. She wanted someone to possibly notice her and the monster of a man. However it seemed that this guy was a violent type as she felt a sting in her cheek. Her eyes widened and tears began to flow.
"I'll ask you again, are you going to scream if I take this off you?" his voice sounded even rougher and scarier than the last time. She shook her head. As much as she wanted to scream, her body simply wouldn't allow it; she had no energy, no willpower to refuse.
"Well done" he said, this time patronising and evil. His hand went to rip the tape when he stopped "actually I think I will leave this on since you will probably scream when it tears your skin apart." What surprised her after he had spoken was the sound that came out after those seemingly kind words, was his laugh. It was beautiful but dark. It sent shivers down her spine and she daringly took a glance at her kidnapper.
**********************************
Take that as a no then! Astrid thought. Her poor angel would be scared and alone. How she wished she could comfort her. At least she could speak aloud although, that would be the only positive thing to come out of this mess. She looked around in the dark room, with the only light visible from a small oil lamp barely lighting anything. In the far corner she could make out a worn out mattress no doubt crawling with bugs and other flesh eating things. Urgh. If it was the only chance she would have at comfort it would have to do. Though the obvious question she wondered was; how the hell would she get over there? Her hands and feet seemed like they were on fire. Rope became the only restriction of moving. After moments of deliberation and numbness, she rolled awkwardly to the other side, noticing that the smell of death was becoming worse with each passing second.
She could feel the rising of bile in her sore throat, and tried to block out the awful stench. Finally, she manoeuvred herself onto the mattress and fatigue began to creep upon her. Hold tight Darcy! was the last thing floating around before she succumbed to the darkness.
It was too quiet in the room, far too quiet for a human to be dead. Though how that was possible Ansgar could not know. He eyes bore into Mörk's searching for the answer, the truth. Was she dead or alive? He actually hoped it was the latter for the sake of both of theirs lives. But he could honestly say that he wanted her to be alive for the sake of his brother. Mörk needed to some to care for him. Someone like he had. His own saviour; his own Bjørg. His life had been a living hell until she entered his life, making the dark light, the bad good and his world worth living. He hoped that Mörk would not complete this mission and run with the female. But no, he had to follow orders and remain heartless. Yet Ansgar knew his brother's heart was there somewhere. He had to have some emotions buried deep somewhere inside himself.
The idiotic master had gone too far this time. Taking an innocent human and bringing her into the world of Chaos and Death. It was tempting to kill the bastard to end this suffering but it was the biggest sin. To kill the creator was to kill you. If everyone wasn't living in a hell already they had to through that in to the fine print. His hand raised slowly as to signal his brother to move out the way.
"I cannot allow you to do that" Mörk argued. His eyebrow lifted in authority. Though he was always silent, no one protested against his actions without reason.
"She… she.. oh goddammit your going to find out anyway." Mörk stammered trying to find the words to describe his failure.
Yet Ansgar knew what he was going to say and silenced him with his eyes. His curse. His blue eyes made anyone fall under his power. He made his way stealthily to the door, with his hand paused on the handle. "I know she is alive. He stated to have her killed and I know why you didn't. But you must face the consequences of your actions I'm afraid brother. I wish I could save you this time but it is merely impossible"
Mörk glanced towards his only partner with a stunned look on his face. He had spoken for the first time in many months. Yet he did not know what he meant. Consequences? He knew why he didn't kill her? What was he talking about? He wished he could open his mouth to speak but Ansgar's power forbid him of such action. The power of silence was much greater than his. He could kill, he could weave atoms out of thin air into armour or other needed material but he could not make himself speak. Stunned into silence, he watched as Ansgar entered the room and beckoned him to follow. He wished he knew what was going to happen to the female now that she had been found alive. A heavy feeling fell upon his heart.
Upon his entrance to the dark cell-like room, he looked as to where he left her and found she had gone. His was momentarily puzzled until the slight sound of breathing was heard in the far corner. The cast of the light gave of the appearance of an halo around the female's head making her seem more angel-like than she already looked. How he wanted to know what this feeling was and why it was happening.
Ansgar gave a knowing look towards the female and Mörk and desired to save both of their lives, still nothing could be done. His feet headed towards the sleeping female and noticed the ropes burning through her flesh. Giving his brother a pointing look, he ordered him to remove them. Poor girl he thought. What a world to be brought into. He knew why she was here but was it necessary to bring her not some other human baring the mark. He knew it was callas of him to think that but this female had a life ahead of her. It would have been easier to capture one that was alone and living in poor conditions, one that probably didn't have family out looking for her.
Other the breaths coming from her tiny mouth where heard that was until the ropes set her free. It seemed Mörk had noticed the delicate moan escaping from her lips as he started to shift nervously, his feet twitching from where he was stood. A smirk appeared upon his face as he took in his brother's uneasiness. It was times like this that he missed the old times when they would laugh at each other's discomfort. Ridding himself of the past, he began to look at the problem just under his nose.
Mörk grumbled under his breath. He was unsure why her sigh of relief began to excite him, a feeling he hadn't felt forever. This female was beginning to get on his nerves. Was she sent to torment him? Make him feel things he shouldn't, such feelings that were forbidden and cursed upon. Yet the sight of her made him feel at peace with himself. Oh how he wished for them to be normal beings then maybe he would feel right about his emotions instead of feeling guilt. Her body began to curl into a protective ball yet her arms were searching for something or someone. Someone. Shit. Ansgar looked at him expectedly and felt himself removed from his power. He knew he had some explaining to do. But what to say exactly? Oh yeah, it turns out that not only was there one mark in there but two.
"Please tell me you did not say that" Ansgar said with an almost begging tone to it. It was clear he had better start telling everything that happened straight from the beginning. And so he did.
Ansgar's face begun to contort in pain throughout his recall and it was a sign that things were just about to get worse. Though how much worse was to remain unsaid.
She could feel the rising of bile in her sore throat, and tried to block out the awful stench. Finally, she manoeuvred herself onto the mattress and fatigue began to creep upon her. Hold tight Darcy! was the last thing floating around before she succumbed to the darkness.
It was too quiet in the room, far too quiet for a human to be dead. Though how that was possible Ansgar could not know. He eyes bore into Mörk's searching for the answer, the truth. Was she dead or alive? He actually hoped it was the latter for the sake of both of theirs lives. But he could honestly say that he wanted her to be alive for the sake of his brother. Mörk needed to some to care for him. Someone like he had. His own saviour; his own Bjørg. His life had been a living hell until she entered his life, making the dark light, the bad good and his world worth living. He hoped that Mörk would not complete this mission and run with the female. But no, he had to follow orders and remain heartless. Yet Ansgar knew his brother's heart was there somewhere. He had to have some emotions buried deep somewhere inside himself.
The idiotic master had gone too far this time. Taking an innocent human and bringing her into the world of Chaos and Death. It was tempting to kill the bastard to end this suffering but it was the biggest sin. To kill the creator was to kill you. If everyone wasn't living in a hell already they had to through that in to the fine print. His hand raised slowly as to signal his brother to move out the way.
"I cannot allow you to do that" Mörk argued. His eyebrow lifted in authority. Though he was always silent, no one protested against his actions without reason.
"She… she.. oh goddammit your going to find out anyway." Mörk stammered trying to find the words to describe his failure.
Yet Ansgar knew what he was going to say and silenced him with his eyes. His curse. His blue eyes made anyone fall under his power. He made his way stealthily to the door, with his hand paused on the handle. "I know she is alive. He stated to have her killed and I know why you didn't. But you must face the consequences of your actions I'm afraid brother. I wish I could save you this time but it is merely impossible"
Mörk glanced towards his only partner with a stunned look on his face. He had spoken for the first time in many months. Yet he did not know what he meant. Consequences? He knew why he didn't kill her? What was he talking about? He wished he could open his mouth to speak but Ansgar's power forbid him of such action. The power of silence was much greater than his. He could kill, he could weave atoms out of thin air into armour or other needed material but he could not make himself speak. Stunned into silence, he watched as Ansgar entered the room and beckoned him to follow. He wished he knew what was going to happen to the female now that she had been found alive. A heavy feeling fell upon his heart.
Upon his entrance to the dark cell-like room, he looked as to where he left her and found she had gone. His was momentarily puzzled until the slight sound of breathing was heard in the far corner. The cast of the light gave of the appearance of an halo around the female's head making her seem more angel-like than she already looked. How he wanted to know what this feeling was and why it was happening.
Ansgar gave a knowing look towards the female and Mörk and desired to save both of their lives, still nothing could be done. His feet headed towards the sleeping female and noticed the ropes burning through her flesh. Giving his brother a pointing look, he ordered him to remove them. Poor girl he thought. What a world to be brought into. He knew why she was here but was it necessary to bring her not some other human baring the mark. He knew it was callas of him to think that but this female had a life ahead of her. It would have been easier to capture one that was alone and living in poor conditions, one that probably didn't have family out looking for her.
Other the breaths coming from her tiny mouth where heard that was until the ropes set her free. It seemed Mörk had noticed the delicate moan escaping from her lips as he started to shift nervously, his feet twitching from where he was stood. A smirk appeared upon his face as he took in his brother's uneasiness. It was times like this that he missed the old times when they would laugh at each other's discomfort. Ridding himself of the past, he began to look at the problem just under his nose.
Mörk grumbled under his breath. He was unsure why her sigh of relief began to excite him, a feeling he hadn't felt forever. This female was beginning to get on his nerves. Was she sent to torment him? Make him feel things he shouldn't, such feelings that were forbidden and cursed upon. Yet the sight of her made him feel at peace with himself. Oh how he wished for them to be normal beings then maybe he would feel right about his emotions instead of feeling guilt. Her body began to curl into a protective ball yet her arms were searching for something or someone. Someone. Shit. Ansgar looked at him expectedly and felt himself removed from his power. He knew he had some explaining to do. But what to say exactly? Oh yeah, it turns out that not only was there one mark in there but two.
"Please tell me you did not say that" Ansgar said with an almost begging tone to it. It was clear he had better start telling everything that happened straight from the beginning. And so he did.
Ansgar's face begun to contort in pain throughout his recall and it was a sign that things were just about to get worse. Though how much worse was to remain unsaid.
**********************************
(N.B. this part of the story happens a few years later after the kidnapping...I've lost the part of the story and will have to rewrite it again)
**********************************
Humans tended to live a short insignificant life, barley accomplishing anything but a ceiling of debt as she had found out over the years. Yet there was something about this human that questioned both her destiny and his. He seemed almost otherworldly and was definitely going to be the end of her. He was almost familiar. It was almost a silly thought; just because his eyes had this strange power over her, it did not mean that she had to do something about it. Despite her efforts to tear her eyes away from his, there was a strange pull in her body, almost like it wanted something. She had an unexplained urge to move from the quiet corner she was residing in. Her mind was a battlefield to understand what was happening to her, until she eventually gave in. Why not give her body what it wanted, what harm could possibly occur from saying hello. But she didn't want to say hello, she wanted him - Mr. blue eyes. She wanted him now. The craving for him was growing stronger with each second that passed. She wanted to wrap her fingers around that neck of his - make him feel pain. Yet the other side of her wanted to be underneath him.
Conflicted, she gazed back to his eyes. This could go terribly wrong, but she didn't care. She walked over with a purpose and without letting him open his mouth, she introduced herself as Astrid and grasped his hand. Taking a chance, she held her gaze to this human and the look he gave was surprising. His eyes were glowing with a possessive need. She had seen the look in men's eyes when they stared at something that they wanted to claim as their own. Almost primal. Could she take the risk with him? Have one night of pure lust and leave him in the morning alive.
It appeared he had decided this staring contest was going on for too long, as the grip on their joined hands had tightened, and she was to follow his lead. Together they moved as one, heading from the bar to the private room at the back. She was now the submissive, forced to follow him into the dark room. Suddenly he halted and grabbed her face. The nature of the action caused Astrid to momentarily panic. Was he changing his mind? Did he not want this any more? But before she could let the words leave her mouth, she heard a deep voice in her ear.
"My name is Mörk" he said, almost growling at her.
He thought she was an angel; her smile light up the bar and her eyes were brighter than any star he had seen in the night sky. She was dressed in a tight white dress that allowed her womanly curves to be shown in all the right places. His pants strained as he imagined touching her skin, feeling her underneath him. Her body was made for him only. If only she would recognise him. Mörk found his hands moving across her bare shoulders. He wanted to tease her skin, make her beg for more. He needed to hear her moans of pleasure. He would take her and seduce her body all night. He couldn't understand why he was behaving this way. He was sent to kill this woman for definite this time yet something strange stirred up inside of him every time he was near her. He wanted to devour her body, he wanted to feel her soul. He wanted to rip of her clothes.
Astrid felt the atmosphere change.Amidst the lust cloud was under she remembered what he had said. Mörk. The creature that haunted her nightmares and teased her dreams. Mörk face now had the look of a wild animal that chasing its' prey. She was about to be hunted and it didn't scare her. She was excited, aroused. She wanted to be caught in his trap even if he was to take her last breath.
Saturday, 19 October 2013
Let me dream forever....
In the shadows it awakes the desire
But you know that you can't realize
And the pressure will just keep rising
Now the heat is on
Within Temptation - Where is the edge?
As usual I had that dream again last night, and surprisingly it had lasted a little bit longer. I have copied the dream into this post and I will continue from there.
As I stared out to the ocean before me, I could feel someone's eyes boring into my back. I slowly faced towards him and I could his eyes begging for me to take his out-stretched hand. My body seemed to know what it wanted as my legs started to move towards him. The closer I stepped towards him, the more my body felt alive. Why was I reacting this way? He must have decided that I was taking too long to reach him, as he moved so quickly his body was pressed against mine. Soon as we touched it had felt like time had stopped. His hand grazed against my cheek, and with a sweet caress I melted into him. I gazed into his soulful eyes; I knew I was home. Without any warning his lips swept across mine.
I reciprocated the kiss, and I could feel the power radiating from him. Dominance. That was what he wanted. In that moment I was willing to surrender to him. My control was slipping away. In one swift movement, I was placed upon a blanket. Surrounded by the calm, gentle waves and only the moonlight glow in sight, I realised we were most definitely alone. With my heart pounding, I could make out the features off his face. Finally I could see what he looked like, but once I saw his eyes, I was lost. I moved my hand to reach out to him, to bring him closer to me, but his grip stilled my movement. His lips parted and a small word was released. 'Patience'. Patience for what. My body was getting restless. Was I to wait for him to make the first movement. I couldn't wait. I needed him. I tried to speak but my words were stuck in my throat. The grip on my body was liberated, his hands moved slowly from my waist up to my face, and a finger was placed upon my lips. Gazing at his face, I noticed a crooked smile. What game were we playing. I was prey for the lion, for him. He had hunted me and now he wanted to toy with me.
And that was as far as I got. I have a rough idea who this guy is but hopefully tonight I will dream more and my suspicions will be confirmed.
But you know that you can't realize
And the pressure will just keep rising
Now the heat is on
Within Temptation - Where is the edge?
As usual I had that dream again last night, and surprisingly it had lasted a little bit longer. I have copied the dream into this post and I will continue from there.
As I stared out to the ocean before me, I could feel someone's eyes boring into my back. I slowly faced towards him and I could his eyes begging for me to take his out-stretched hand. My body seemed to know what it wanted as my legs started to move towards him. The closer I stepped towards him, the more my body felt alive. Why was I reacting this way? He must have decided that I was taking too long to reach him, as he moved so quickly his body was pressed against mine. Soon as we touched it had felt like time had stopped. His hand grazed against my cheek, and with a sweet caress I melted into him. I gazed into his soulful eyes; I knew I was home. Without any warning his lips swept across mine.
I reciprocated the kiss, and I could feel the power radiating from him. Dominance. That was what he wanted. In that moment I was willing to surrender to him. My control was slipping away. In one swift movement, I was placed upon a blanket. Surrounded by the calm, gentle waves and only the moonlight glow in sight, I realised we were most definitely alone. With my heart pounding, I could make out the features off his face. Finally I could see what he looked like, but once I saw his eyes, I was lost. I moved my hand to reach out to him, to bring him closer to me, but his grip stilled my movement. His lips parted and a small word was released. 'Patience'. Patience for what. My body was getting restless. Was I to wait for him to make the first movement. I couldn't wait. I needed him. I tried to speak but my words were stuck in my throat. The grip on my body was liberated, his hands moved slowly from my waist up to my face, and a finger was placed upon my lips. Gazing at his face, I noticed a crooked smile. What game were we playing. I was prey for the lion, for him. He had hunted me and now he wanted to toy with me.
And that was as far as I got. I have a rough idea who this guy is but hopefully tonight I will dream more and my suspicions will be confirmed.
Tuesday, 15 October 2013
Nossa, nossa. Assim você me mata (PG rated version)
Ai, se eu te pego
Ai, ai, se eu te pego
Sitting in the bar, writing these words, I feel like I am almost home. Loud words pounding in my ears, the bass vibrating through my body. Peace. After the day I have endured, the noise and familiarity was welcomed. Today made me look at the cracks in my life and fill them with something new (and not poly-filler as my dad would say to me). New friends, a new career, a new home in the UAE. Well maybe after I get used to the fact that my parents are not here to hold my hand and guide me through life.
At this moment in time a band is playing, well playing mainstream music that I dislike (actually when I have had a few drinks I find myself singing along to anything). However my music opinion aside, the sound that they produce is rather great. In fact they may have introduced me to a song I had never heard of before; the title of this post actually.
With a Bacardi Breezer in one hand and my pen in the other, I am set for the night. To do this sort of writing, the freeing of my emotions and the letting go of what is inside of me, I have left two of my friends outside to drink their vodka. Is it socially acceptable to be all emo and write in a bar when I could do this at home where it is comfortable and warm. To be honest with you all, I am actually quite introvert. The best moments of my life have been when I succumb to the isolation of my own company. I would apologise for the rambling but currently the guitar riffs I hear are trying to help my body lose control, and I need to be careful before I start writing some x-rated story. Yeah that has happened before, but for now lets focus on the band.
Right now it appears to be someone's birthday and the band is getting the whole crowd involved. Scenes like this warm the heart. The song choices are amazing (yes I know I said they were mainstream) and they have also chosen songs that make you stop and think "oh wow. I haven't heard that song in a while". Then all of a sudden your body develops a mind of its own; first the tapping of the foot, then the rhythmic leg bounce and before you know it, your body is upon the dance-floor moving with a spirit so free that it is contagious to everyone around begins to dance -or if you are like me then your are looking like you are having some sort of fit. Ok, back to the band. See, I digress rather easily.
The band is named Diesel, and they are actually a group that can play. I have seen my acts before in local bars and pubs and the song choices are more cheesy kareoke than entertainment. Yet Diesel manages to avoid this and create an atmosphere that is so electric, the rhythm of the music can be felt throughout your body, racing through your veins and hitting your soul in all the right places.
You just have to let go and let the music run through you.
Natasha, or Tash as some people call her, is one of the vocalists. She has a beautiful voice and definitely knows how to start a party in style. Let say girls, she has the best sense of style I have seen in a long time. Though lets not take that away from the amazing voice she has. For someone to vary their style of singing the way she does, is incredible. The moves on that girl in heels whilst she is singing are simple but they capture the attention of both men and women in the room.
Next there is Patrick, another vocalist who looks almost like Bruce Willis. He reminds me of a man with a young boy's soul-so full of life and the ability to range his songs from those before my birth to things like Macklemore's Thrift-Shop. That has got to be a skill.
We also have present a guitarist called Thomas and the bass player named Dean. The way those guys capture your attention through the riffs is astounding. The way they move their fingers...in fact I cannot say what I want to say cause it would be highly indecent and inappropriate for such a review. Though the coordinated outfits would make any woman's hormones go crazy.
Finally we have the drummer - Marcus. You can see the talent in the sounds he produces and the emotions showing on his face. The sound made creates a new version of the song taking it from cheesy pop to almost rock-like and alternative. The way he hits those drums a girl could only imagine. Ok lets try to get this back on to topic before the tone will turn into something completely and unintentionally dirty.
The band look like they actually belong together; like pieces of a jigsaw they fall into the correct place. They also remind me of a snowflake. So unique and beautiful, yet they create a masterpiece when placed next to each other. When you look at a masterpiece, it sometimes brings you close to tears. That is your soul letting you know that you should grasp this moment with both hands and treasure it. That is what the audience should feel when they are in the presence of Diesel. A moment never to forget. Each moment so unique.
I could continue to write this piece for as long as I wanted too, but I could never give the band enough attention and justice they deserve. So I shall end this note rocking out to Linkin Park and ironically it didn't really matter that I was some girl sitting in the corner of a bar writing this. In the end this me. This is the music. This is Diesel.
Ai, ai, se eu te pego
Read more at http://lyricstranslate.com/en/ai-se-eu-te-pego-ah-when-i-get-my-hands-you.html#F770Ovgbk6jU2Upy.99
Ai, ai, se eu te pego
Sitting in the bar, writing these words, I feel like I am almost home. Loud words pounding in my ears, the bass vibrating through my body. Peace. After the day I have endured, the noise and familiarity was welcomed. Today made me look at the cracks in my life and fill them with something new (and not poly-filler as my dad would say to me). New friends, a new career, a new home in the UAE. Well maybe after I get used to the fact that my parents are not here to hold my hand and guide me through life.
At this moment in time a band is playing, well playing mainstream music that I dislike (actually when I have had a few drinks I find myself singing along to anything). However my music opinion aside, the sound that they produce is rather great. In fact they may have introduced me to a song I had never heard of before; the title of this post actually.
With a Bacardi Breezer in one hand and my pen in the other, I am set for the night. To do this sort of writing, the freeing of my emotions and the letting go of what is inside of me, I have left two of my friends outside to drink their vodka. Is it socially acceptable to be all emo and write in a bar when I could do this at home where it is comfortable and warm. To be honest with you all, I am actually quite introvert. The best moments of my life have been when I succumb to the isolation of my own company. I would apologise for the rambling but currently the guitar riffs I hear are trying to help my body lose control, and I need to be careful before I start writing some x-rated story. Yeah that has happened before, but for now lets focus on the band.
Right now it appears to be someone's birthday and the band is getting the whole crowd involved. Scenes like this warm the heart. The song choices are amazing (yes I know I said they were mainstream) and they have also chosen songs that make you stop and think "oh wow. I haven't heard that song in a while". Then all of a sudden your body develops a mind of its own; first the tapping of the foot, then the rhythmic leg bounce and before you know it, your body is upon the dance-floor moving with a spirit so free that it is contagious to everyone around begins to dance -or if you are like me then your are looking like you are having some sort of fit. Ok, back to the band. See, I digress rather easily.
The band is named Diesel, and they are actually a group that can play. I have seen my acts before in local bars and pubs and the song choices are more cheesy kareoke than entertainment. Yet Diesel manages to avoid this and create an atmosphere that is so electric, the rhythm of the music can be felt throughout your body, racing through your veins and hitting your soul in all the right places.
You just have to let go and let the music run through you.
Natasha, or Tash as some people call her, is one of the vocalists. She has a beautiful voice and definitely knows how to start a party in style. Let say girls, she has the best sense of style I have seen in a long time. Though lets not take that away from the amazing voice she has. For someone to vary their style of singing the way she does, is incredible. The moves on that girl in heels whilst she is singing are simple but they capture the attention of both men and women in the room.
Next there is Patrick, another vocalist who looks almost like Bruce Willis. He reminds me of a man with a young boy's soul-so full of life and the ability to range his songs from those before my birth to things like Macklemore's Thrift-Shop. That has got to be a skill.
We also have present a guitarist called Thomas and the bass player named Dean. The way those guys capture your attention through the riffs is astounding. The way they move their fingers...in fact I cannot say what I want to say cause it would be highly indecent and inappropriate for such a review. Though the coordinated outfits would make any woman's hormones go crazy.
Finally we have the drummer - Marcus. You can see the talent in the sounds he produces and the emotions showing on his face. The sound made creates a new version of the song taking it from cheesy pop to almost rock-like and alternative. The way he hits those drums a girl could only imagine. Ok lets try to get this back on to topic before the tone will turn into something completely and unintentionally dirty.
The band look like they actually belong together; like pieces of a jigsaw they fall into the correct place. They also remind me of a snowflake. So unique and beautiful, yet they create a masterpiece when placed next to each other. When you look at a masterpiece, it sometimes brings you close to tears. That is your soul letting you know that you should grasp this moment with both hands and treasure it. That is what the audience should feel when they are in the presence of Diesel. A moment never to forget. Each moment so unique.
I could continue to write this piece for as long as I wanted too, but I could never give the band enough attention and justice they deserve. So I shall end this note rocking out to Linkin Park and ironically it didn't really matter that I was some girl sitting in the corner of a bar writing this. In the end this me. This is the music. This is Diesel.
Ai, se eu te pego,
Ai, ai, se eu te pego
Read more at http://lyricstranslate.com/en/ai-se-eu-te-pego-ah-when-i-get-my-hands-you.html#F770Ovgbk6jU2Upy.99
Ai, ai, se eu te pego
Read more at http://lyricstranslate.com/en/ai-se-eu-te-pego-ah-when-i-get-my-hands-you.html#F770Ovgbk6jU2Upy.99
Ai, se eu te pego,
Ai, ai, se eu te pego
Read more at http://lyricstranslate.com/en/ai-se-eu-te-pego-ah-when-i-get-my-hands-you.html#F770Ovgbk6jU2Upy.99
Ai, ai, se eu te pego
Read more at http://lyricstranslate.com/en/ai-se-eu-te-pego-ah-when-i-get-my-hands-you.html#F770Ovgbk6jU2Upy.99
Ai, se eu te pego,
Ai, ai, se eu te pego
Read more at http://lyricstranslate.com/en/ai-se-eu-te-pego-ah-when-i-get-my-hands-you.html#F770Ovgbk6jU2Upy.99
Ai, ai, se eu te pego
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Ai, se eu te pego,
Ai, ai, se eu te pego
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Ai, se eu te pego,Ai, ai, se eu te pego
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Ai, ai, se eu te pego
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Ai, se eu te pego,
Ai, ai, se eu te pego
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Ai, ai, se eu te pego
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Ai, se eu te pego,
Ai, ai, se eu te pego
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Ai, ai, se eu te pego
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15.10.13
It has been roughly one month and a half since I arrived in Al Ain, and my life has done a complete 360 multiple of times. So lets begin where I left off in my last post which happened to be the first night in my new home. Well what happened after that was simply more than your average emotional roller-coaster.
I decided to a bit of shopping whilst I waited for a fellow UK-er to arrive. This was to be my first grocery trip and what an experience it was. I had no idea what to buy except from water, milk and bread. Do I buy frozen food? But if I do how will I cook it with no actual oven in my room? Do I try and keep away from chocolates and buy fruit instead? Questions were running through my head million miles a second. Though one question was the most important of all...how the heck do I get to the shopping centre? Luckily the accommodation managers had left a get-started kit which included maps to all of the local shops. I decided to take the most uncommon mode of transport someone in the UAE would use to get there - by foot. It was rare for anyone to walk anywhere never mind a female on her own; and I wasn't surprised as to why. The traffic was horrendous and everyone stared at you like you had grown an extra set of arms and legs and had five eyes. Everyone who walked had an immediate neon sign pointing to them saying "look at me I'm walking. Please beep your horn at me and shout random words at me".
I finally managed to make it to Jimi Mall, Al Ain, and I felt at piece. I must have spent roughly about 3 hours in the supermarket itself.
I don't want to be talking about what I did ever second of everyday as have just I realised how much space talking about the supermarket trip had actually taken up. So I will move quickly on to the beginning of the first day at School.
Well the first week was simply a CPD week where I felt like I was actually back at school. You found out who were the nicest people, the ones who liked the sound of their voices and the ones you had to avoid. I had it figured out after about the first day. The second week came and the school had decided to push back the starting date for the children, which for me was a good thing. I wasn't totally ready to teach. Yet after the second week of no children I was getting more anxious as the seconds ticked by. I had a full two weeks of lessons prepared.
Finally the day arrived and I was not expecting the day to go the way it day - or the following weeks for that matter either. Now I do not want to put the exact details about what happened during the days at the school in case this gets into the wrong hands, but lets just say structure, communication, organisation and safety are not the strongest points. One can certainly say there is a lot of spirit there though.
Through all the tears and the tantrums (and that's just from me), I can safely say that some of the children are starting to understand that I am not going anywhere and I will not give up on them - which is what looks like happened to the majority of them last year.
I will end this post on a high note. Though my personal life has hit an all time low, some of my children know how to put a smile on my face. With all the stickers, little messages on scrap pieces of paper and the on bouquet of flowers I received, these children have a lot of happiness in them and I will do whatever it takes to let them shine and grow in wonderful people.
I decided to a bit of shopping whilst I waited for a fellow UK-er to arrive. This was to be my first grocery trip and what an experience it was. I had no idea what to buy except from water, milk and bread. Do I buy frozen food? But if I do how will I cook it with no actual oven in my room? Do I try and keep away from chocolates and buy fruit instead? Questions were running through my head million miles a second. Though one question was the most important of all...how the heck do I get to the shopping centre? Luckily the accommodation managers had left a get-started kit which included maps to all of the local shops. I decided to take the most uncommon mode of transport someone in the UAE would use to get there - by foot. It was rare for anyone to walk anywhere never mind a female on her own; and I wasn't surprised as to why. The traffic was horrendous and everyone stared at you like you had grown an extra set of arms and legs and had five eyes. Everyone who walked had an immediate neon sign pointing to them saying "look at me I'm walking. Please beep your horn at me and shout random words at me".
I finally managed to make it to Jimi Mall, Al Ain, and I felt at piece. I must have spent roughly about 3 hours in the supermarket itself.
I don't want to be talking about what I did ever second of everyday as have just I realised how much space talking about the supermarket trip had actually taken up. So I will move quickly on to the beginning of the first day at School.
Well the first week was simply a CPD week where I felt like I was actually back at school. You found out who were the nicest people, the ones who liked the sound of their voices and the ones you had to avoid. I had it figured out after about the first day. The second week came and the school had decided to push back the starting date for the children, which for me was a good thing. I wasn't totally ready to teach. Yet after the second week of no children I was getting more anxious as the seconds ticked by. I had a full two weeks of lessons prepared.
Finally the day arrived and I was not expecting the day to go the way it day - or the following weeks for that matter either. Now I do not want to put the exact details about what happened during the days at the school in case this gets into the wrong hands, but lets just say structure, communication, organisation and safety are not the strongest points. One can certainly say there is a lot of spirit there though.
Through all the tears and the tantrums (and that's just from me), I can safely say that some of the children are starting to understand that I am not going anywhere and I will not give up on them - which is what looks like happened to the majority of them last year.
I will end this post on a high note. Though my personal life has hit an all time low, some of my children know how to put a smile on my face. With all the stickers, little messages on scrap pieces of paper and the on bouquet of flowers I received, these children have a lot of happiness in them and I will do whatever it takes to let them shine and grow in wonderful people.
Monday, 26 August 2013
It's only the beginning
You see there's no real ending
It's only the beginning
So this is it. The wait has dwindled down from three months to just three days. Three more sunrises and it will be time. Time to start my new beginning. A new life in a new city, a new country, a new continent. But where did this all begin?
A year ago I decided to put all my career options into a hat and let the fates decide my path. The options ranged from being an editor to a teacher. The latter became the answer. After submitting a personal statement and going through all the difficulties of UCAS once again, deciding which universities to apply for and what aspect of teaching I wanted to do, I received an unconditional offer from the University of Teesside. Of course I had to attend an interview, which wasn't all that stressful, but I accepted the offer. It seemed almost too perfect. A few months later I was opening my letter saying that I had been given a place on the PGCE PC/ET course starting in September 2012. This was it. The start of a new career path.
It was here that I found that it was too good to be true. Not in the sense that it was a scam or anything negative, but my bad luck decided to rear its' ugly head. It took until December for my placement to be sorted out, others had been sorted months before hand. So after countless security checks I was finally ready to start putting what I had learned so far into practice. However January 9th saw another setback to my teacher training. A last minute decision to celebrate my new placement happened to include an emergency trip to the a&e. It turned out I had broken my foot. This caused another six week delay to reaching my 100 hour target.
Yet after all this I didn't give up. I had to keep my spirits up and achieve something. And I did. 102.4 hours later I had finally reached the target. I completed all the assignments and everything else that was asked of me. Though there was one more thing I had to do - find a job. So I applied to a local teaching agency ready to start work as a supply teacher. One day fate decided to step in and through me in a different direction. Overseas Teaching.
This was not something I considered at all. Yes, I had fantasies of living in Australia or somewhere in America; but they were only fantasies. A particular agency in the UK was advertising a range of positions across the globe, and suddenly I found my fingers clicking away on the laptop applying for the advertised roles. Qatar, Kuwait, Egypt, UAE. It would be the UAE that would change my life. For better or worse, I cannot say. After all the interviews, communication breakdowns and endless researching, I finally became a English teacher to Grade 3 and Grade 4 pupils attending a private school in Al Ain, UAE.
This is my beginning. I finally enter my new life on Thursday 29th August 2013. It will be here where I will post my ups and downs, my adventures, my mishaps.
It's only the beginning
So this is it. The wait has dwindled down from three months to just three days. Three more sunrises and it will be time. Time to start my new beginning. A new life in a new city, a new country, a new continent. But where did this all begin?
A year ago I decided to put all my career options into a hat and let the fates decide my path. The options ranged from being an editor to a teacher. The latter became the answer. After submitting a personal statement and going through all the difficulties of UCAS once again, deciding which universities to apply for and what aspect of teaching I wanted to do, I received an unconditional offer from the University of Teesside. Of course I had to attend an interview, which wasn't all that stressful, but I accepted the offer. It seemed almost too perfect. A few months later I was opening my letter saying that I had been given a place on the PGCE PC/ET course starting in September 2012. This was it. The start of a new career path.
It was here that I found that it was too good to be true. Not in the sense that it was a scam or anything negative, but my bad luck decided to rear its' ugly head. It took until December for my placement to be sorted out, others had been sorted months before hand. So after countless security checks I was finally ready to start putting what I had learned so far into practice. However January 9th saw another setback to my teacher training. A last minute decision to celebrate my new placement happened to include an emergency trip to the a&e. It turned out I had broken my foot. This caused another six week delay to reaching my 100 hour target.
Yet after all this I didn't give up. I had to keep my spirits up and achieve something. And I did. 102.4 hours later I had finally reached the target. I completed all the assignments and everything else that was asked of me. Though there was one more thing I had to do - find a job. So I applied to a local teaching agency ready to start work as a supply teacher. One day fate decided to step in and through me in a different direction. Overseas Teaching.
This was not something I considered at all. Yes, I had fantasies of living in Australia or somewhere in America; but they were only fantasies. A particular agency in the UK was advertising a range of positions across the globe, and suddenly I found my fingers clicking away on the laptop applying for the advertised roles. Qatar, Kuwait, Egypt, UAE. It would be the UAE that would change my life. For better or worse, I cannot say. After all the interviews, communication breakdowns and endless researching, I finally became a English teacher to Grade 3 and Grade 4 pupils attending a private school in Al Ain, UAE.
This is my beginning. I finally enter my new life on Thursday 29th August 2013. It will be here where I will post my ups and downs, my adventures, my mishaps.
Monday, 8 July 2013
One month to go...
It really amazes me how each day has the same amount of seconds, minutes and hours, yet they pass by quicker than the last. It only felt like a few days ago when I received an email containing an
'acceptance of the offer' letter. In fact I signed the form little over a month ago. It seems that life is going so fast that my mind cannot comprehend what is happening.
There is one thing that keeps me up awake, making the night last longer; and that is all the people I will miss.
1) My mum - I will miss the 10am wake up call that she manages to give me every morning. I will miss the annoying 'just checking your still alive' phone calls. I will miss the snarky and bitchy comments we make at each other when one of us is clearly not in the mood. Yet most of all I will miss her warmth and love that a mother gives her child.
2) My dad - I don't really see him that much due to him working away all the time but I will miss the comments he gives when we do unite... (so you're a dumb blonde now...by your putting on the weight and so on). I will miss the arguments were one of us has to be right no matter what. I will definitely miss getting my random hugs from him when I'm feeling down, lonely, or even just bored.
3) My brother - He may have his own family now, and his own house, but I will miss the random phone calls, his way of conning lifts from me, and all the dead arms I receive when trying to beat him up. I know Jacqueline and Lillie will keep him occupied.
4) My niece -I will miss the way she says 'missa'. I will miss all of her little attitudes she has. I will miss her hugs and kisses and the way she wakes me up in the morning. I will miss her little laugh and her demanding ways.
I could go on like this with everyone in my family, and those that I hold dear to my heart. I will miss the new friends I made throughout my time at school, college and university (both under and post- grad). I will miss my annoying but amusing colleagues from work. I definitely will not miss the early phonecalls asking to come in asap or the phonecalls at night changing shifts. But my time there has been wonderful.
There are people at work who I will miss more then some (sorry) but that's due to the time spent with each individual. There will be one person I will definitely miss. Their ability to make me laugh when I'm annoyed, their acceptance of my bitchy nature or my attitude when I'm on coffee or had no sleep.
It is crazy how many people enter and leave your life all the time, but the memories created along the way will serve me a lifetime of happiness.
Am I ready to go out in to the world alone? - no, but I will do my darn hardest to make the most of what life has given me.
'acceptance of the offer' letter. In fact I signed the form little over a month ago. It seems that life is going so fast that my mind cannot comprehend what is happening.
There is one thing that keeps me up awake, making the night last longer; and that is all the people I will miss.
1) My mum - I will miss the 10am wake up call that she manages to give me every morning. I will miss the annoying 'just checking your still alive' phone calls. I will miss the snarky and bitchy comments we make at each other when one of us is clearly not in the mood. Yet most of all I will miss her warmth and love that a mother gives her child.
2) My dad - I don't really see him that much due to him working away all the time but I will miss the comments he gives when we do unite... (so you're a dumb blonde now...by your putting on the weight and so on). I will miss the arguments were one of us has to be right no matter what. I will definitely miss getting my random hugs from him when I'm feeling down, lonely, or even just bored.
3) My brother - He may have his own family now, and his own house, but I will miss the random phone calls, his way of conning lifts from me, and all the dead arms I receive when trying to beat him up. I know Jacqueline and Lillie will keep him occupied.
4) My niece -I will miss the way she says 'missa'. I will miss all of her little attitudes she has. I will miss her hugs and kisses and the way she wakes me up in the morning. I will miss her little laugh and her demanding ways.
I could go on like this with everyone in my family, and those that I hold dear to my heart. I will miss the new friends I made throughout my time at school, college and university (both under and post- grad). I will miss my annoying but amusing colleagues from work. I definitely will not miss the early phonecalls asking to come in asap or the phonecalls at night changing shifts. But my time there has been wonderful.
There are people at work who I will miss more then some (sorry) but that's due to the time spent with each individual. There will be one person I will definitely miss. Their ability to make me laugh when I'm annoyed, their acceptance of my bitchy nature or my attitude when I'm on coffee or had no sleep.
It is crazy how many people enter and leave your life all the time, but the memories created along the way will serve me a lifetime of happiness.
Am I ready to go out in to the world alone? - no, but I will do my darn hardest to make the most of what life has given me.
Wednesday, 4 April 2012
You see there's no real ending....
.... It's only the beginning
I sometimes think that this world is too real and fixed on the proper. What is to say that what is right is wrong, and what is wrong is right. What happens if the "mad" people are actually the sane ones in the world, and the sane are actually mentally unstable. Society today shows us what is deemed improper. I am not justifying certain mental states here, such as those who kill or cause any harm to others, but the types that use such an enormous part of the brain; creating worlds of their own. Such usage of the brain is liberating and imaginitave. Certain mental illnesses are not what they seem.
Take a look in the mirror. You have a choice. To look at yourself and see what rules and conditions who have been brought up with. Look at how you choose paths in life. The "right" paths. The ones that are deemed socially correct. See how your every day language changes when more rules are placed upon you. See how your mind is only capable of being creative to an extent that doesnt push boundaries. You dress how you are expected to dress. You speak your mind when it is acceptable, but you edit. That is what the world is - an edited version of what it should be.
Now this is where an option appears.
Do you continue to follow the norms as you have done since growing up, or do you take another path? One that is "wrong". One that is socially and politically improper. Do you choose how you use your mind? Do you speak freely no matter the consequence; to speak the truth? Do you dress how you want to against social norms. Do you dream of your own world and see it in the real one?
The mirror is a gateway to your life. It shows you exactly who you are. The imperfections, the "perfections". It provides a second conscience. One can certainly add make-up to hide away dreams and fantasies. Or it can create an outlet to who you really are. The one who pushes the limits. The one who isnt afraid to stand out from the norm.
For me, I am one of those who hides behind the mirror. I only show what people need to see but in honesty. I dream of a world were nothing is real. Everything is not what it should be. I want to see what my creative world would be in reality, where people are not restricted to gender roles, or ruled by the stigma of madness.
Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.
That is according to Einstein. So who is to say that someone is insane when they really arent. We all dream every day, every night expecting a different outcome; is that insane? No. It's what life is all about.
What would it be like to live in a world, where no one was deemed mad, insane, or crazy? Were no-one judges you for the weird things you say, do, wear. To live in a world were I am restricted in my ability to dream, to create, to believe is the correct definition of insane.
I sometimes think that this world is too real and fixed on the proper. What is to say that what is right is wrong, and what is wrong is right. What happens if the "mad" people are actually the sane ones in the world, and the sane are actually mentally unstable. Society today shows us what is deemed improper. I am not justifying certain mental states here, such as those who kill or cause any harm to others, but the types that use such an enormous part of the brain; creating worlds of their own. Such usage of the brain is liberating and imaginitave. Certain mental illnesses are not what they seem.
Take a look in the mirror. You have a choice. To look at yourself and see what rules and conditions who have been brought up with. Look at how you choose paths in life. The "right" paths. The ones that are deemed socially correct. See how your every day language changes when more rules are placed upon you. See how your mind is only capable of being creative to an extent that doesnt push boundaries. You dress how you are expected to dress. You speak your mind when it is acceptable, but you edit. That is what the world is - an edited version of what it should be.
Now this is where an option appears.
Do you continue to follow the norms as you have done since growing up, or do you take another path? One that is "wrong". One that is socially and politically improper. Do you choose how you use your mind? Do you speak freely no matter the consequence; to speak the truth? Do you dress how you want to against social norms. Do you dream of your own world and see it in the real one?
The mirror is a gateway to your life. It shows you exactly who you are. The imperfections, the "perfections". It provides a second conscience. One can certainly add make-up to hide away dreams and fantasies. Or it can create an outlet to who you really are. The one who pushes the limits. The one who isnt afraid to stand out from the norm.
For me, I am one of those who hides behind the mirror. I only show what people need to see but in honesty. I dream of a world were nothing is real. Everything is not what it should be. I want to see what my creative world would be in reality, where people are not restricted to gender roles, or ruled by the stigma of madness.
Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.
That is according to Einstein. So who is to say that someone is insane when they really arent. We all dream every day, every night expecting a different outcome; is that insane? No. It's what life is all about.
What would it be like to live in a world, where no one was deemed mad, insane, or crazy? Were no-one judges you for the weird things you say, do, wear. To live in a world were I am restricted in my ability to dream, to create, to believe is the correct definition of insane.
Tuesday, 27 March 2012
I need a....
change in life.
So today was real sunny, like my garden just trapped the sun completely. No breeze. Just the sun and me on my lounger. Yet it was during this lovely sunbathing session when I realised how much I have let myself go. None of my shorts fit me, though weirdly my top half hasn't changed that much considering I can still fit in my bikini from five year ago :/. Back to my main point, my constant eating now has transformed my tummy into a monster. For this reason I will start my diet and excercise as soon as this week is over with. That way I can consume as much junk as I want before I give it up.
It is not just my eating habits that I wish to change, I am getting bored of the same hair colour and ame hairstyle. I think I have done very well lately, letting my hair grow and get back to its normal healthy state; but it is annoying me so much.
So here's to a new me. Hopefully
So today was real sunny, like my garden just trapped the sun completely. No breeze. Just the sun and me on my lounger. Yet it was during this lovely sunbathing session when I realised how much I have let myself go. None of my shorts fit me, though weirdly my top half hasn't changed that much considering I can still fit in my bikini from five year ago :/. Back to my main point, my constant eating now has transformed my tummy into a monster. For this reason I will start my diet and excercise as soon as this week is over with. That way I can consume as much junk as I want before I give it up.
It is not just my eating habits that I wish to change, I am getting bored of the same hair colour and ame hairstyle. I think I have done very well lately, letting my hair grow and get back to its normal healthy state; but it is annoying me so much.
So here's to a new me. Hopefully
Tuesday, 29 November 2011
Dissertation can suck my....
Well it has only taken me a good solid 6 months to finally settle on my topic for my dissertation. However I have now realised I have again took up the wonderful topic of FREUD!!!!!!
Since A-Level Psychology, the past few years I have studied Freud again and again and again. Now I do realise that university level is not my choice as to what we actually study, but stupid me thought I know Freud will be awesome for my dissertation.
Well that is my own fault, but as someone kindly pointed out...."at least you'll have lots of notes" that is a fair argument.
As to what my dissertation thesis actually is well here it is----> "to what extent can the psychoanalytic theory be applied to the protagonist in The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde. Say Whaaaatt!
Yep two topics I was dead against, I am actually doing. Though the good news is my abstract introduction and first chapter are complete (well to a certain standard)
Thank hell for that :)
Now I'm off for food.
Bye for now
Since A-Level Psychology, the past few years I have studied Freud again and again and again. Now I do realise that university level is not my choice as to what we actually study, but stupid me thought I know Freud will be awesome for my dissertation.
Well that is my own fault, but as someone kindly pointed out...."at least you'll have lots of notes" that is a fair argument.
As to what my dissertation thesis actually is well here it is----> "to what extent can the psychoanalytic theory be applied to the protagonist in The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde. Say Whaaaatt!
Yep two topics I was dead against, I am actually doing. Though the good news is my abstract introduction and first chapter are complete (well to a certain standard)
Thank hell for that :)
Now I'm off for food.
Bye for now
Tuesday, 22 November 2011
An Apology of Sex
So my last post may have slightly tricked a few people, but this is one is here to make things right. I am aware that many of us lost our virginity between the ages of 14-18. Some probably lost theirs soon as they become interested in girls/boys, some might want to wait for that right person. Yet how many of us can put their hands on their heart and say they fully enjoyed their first time. Not many.
The whole awkwardness of the act combined with young age and probably not knowing their partner very well, doesn't make it a good start for losing your 'v' card.
Now as you get older, and not sleeping your way through the town, sex becomes sort of cherished. Many people my age are just happy with sex being just sex. A primal need. A quickie in a car, or against a wall. But that sensual, soft, worship only comes when you find that right person. That doesn't mean to say that when you find that right person, sex becomes love making, instead you find a balance between love and lust. The quick throes of passion mixed with the long torturous pleasure of love. The way you can tease pleasure and twist it into something special.
Its amazing when you find the things that make your partner go crazy. Soft nip on the ear, the typical biting of the neck, or the grazing of their legs. Many girls and boys have different spots and when you find them, all their control is lost.
That's it for now. I got sidetracked by a memory of mine haha x
The whole awkwardness of the act combined with young age and probably not knowing their partner very well, doesn't make it a good start for losing your 'v' card.
Now as you get older, and not sleeping your way through the town, sex becomes sort of cherished. Many people my age are just happy with sex being just sex. A primal need. A quickie in a car, or against a wall. But that sensual, soft, worship only comes when you find that right person. That doesn't mean to say that when you find that right person, sex becomes love making, instead you find a balance between love and lust. The quick throes of passion mixed with the long torturous pleasure of love. The way you can tease pleasure and twist it into something special.
Its amazing when you find the things that make your partner go crazy. Soft nip on the ear, the typical biting of the neck, or the grazing of their legs. Many girls and boys have different spots and when you find them, all their control is lost.
That's it for now. I got sidetracked by a memory of mine haha x
Wednesday, 5 October 2011
Finally!
So after a recent lecture in Living Stream: Contemporary Irish Poetry, my on off dissertation topic has now been solidified. I am not looking at Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, Wicked, or Phantom of the Opera, I am now planning to study Mr W.B.Yeats unrequited love of Maud Gonne. I have not yet looked at which angle I will taking but to do such a powerful woman related to Irish history, is quite a honour.
The poem No Second Troy will be quite hilarious to look at; poor woman being compared to Helen of Troy. I will be quite excited to look into her life from many points of view and even create my own opinion of her. Now for the question; did she sleep with Yeats? Many say no, however I say yes.
On another note, university life is a bit strange at the moment. I am actually spending less than I did last year which is great, and I seem to be enjoying the modules choices a lot more. Hopefully my grades will reflect it. Time can only tell.
The poem No Second Troy will be quite hilarious to look at; poor woman being compared to Helen of Troy. I will be quite excited to look into her life from many points of view and even create my own opinion of her. Now for the question; did she sleep with Yeats? Many say no, however I say yes.
On another note, university life is a bit strange at the moment. I am actually spending less than I did last year which is great, and I seem to be enjoying the modules choices a lot more. Hopefully my grades will reflect it. Time can only tell.
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