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I decided today that I'd rather feel awful in company, rather than by myself, so I went to school, which may've been a bad decison. But I'm extremely glad that I didn't end up spending 4 days in solitary confinement, I had to cancel going to the cinema today, which was a bit of bummer, though I may go to a party tomorrow if I'm up to it. I'm fairly certain it'll turn more than slightly dodgy, but since I hate the taste of alcohol, I should be okay. Though, I'm not sure about everyone else, after the last one...
I attended my first proper house party today, though I didn't drink because I find the taste of alcohol rather repulsive to be honest. But everyone else did. And that's an understatement. People are surprisingly different when they're drunk, it was weird, almost like spending my evening with total strangers... Some people slept over, probably to hide the fact that they got totally smashed from their parents. Only a few of us stayed totally sober and we all had fun without drinking; we all got high on the atmosphere, there was enough alcohol in the atmosphere anyway without drinking any...
We got our Silver DofE route planned today, without one member of the group. It was pretty fun, we also decided what food we were going to take with us, basically sugar in various forms.
We also reminded ourselves that we were going to take a pot of Nutella each for a snack.
THEN I GOT TOLD TODAY THAT NUTELLA ISN'T VEGETARIAN. NOOOO IT CANNOT BE TRUE!!!!! I may just withdraw my vegetarianism, just so I can eat Nutella. I heart Nutella. Nutella is my life. Sort of. I'd like to think I have more of a life than Nutella...
I had a weirdly fun Biology lesson today. We had to pretend to be birds while 'pecking' up seeds to simulate invertebrate herbivore feeding behaviour.
This obviously meant,
So while everyone was licking their seeds off the plates, three people had to pretend to be predators and 'kill' us.
I have to say, if I was a bird I'd eat pine nuts, since the sunflower seeds I tried (when someone tried to swap with me) tasted particularly gross. And I only like pumpkin seeds with vanilla on them; I don't think birds can afford to be that fussy.
I was talking with someone in form today about how people can allow themselves to get so fat. She said her family was kind of genetically predisposed to be chubby and I said mine was likewise, except for thin-ness. She was also saying how hard it was to lose weight.
But seriously people.
You have no idea how hard it is for me to put ON weight. I need a bit more flab for insulation and because hardly any clothes fit me - I have to wear jeggings because they're elasticated. BUT FAT WON'T STAY, however much junk I eat.
It is worth getting up every morning
Just to see what the day will bring you,
It is worth getting up even if you do not want to.
Even when you're in the jaws of double tech and life skills
There is nothing better than getting up and having a day exceed your expectations.
There is nothing interesting you can do in your bed
That can be exceeded by something you can do with your friends, outside instead.
What is there to do without anyone apart from talk to yourself?
The realms of the world are yours to explore, so explore them.
Last birthday I got given the awesomest present by my friends - a massive photo frame that I asked them to fill with pictures of themselves, and they obliged. I love it!!!
I keep updating it every so often, but that usually means taking pictures off and I hate doing that, so I keep them all in a bag behind it to keep them safe.
Though it's slightly uncomfortable changing in my room with them all staring down at me, I'll never take it off my wall, because I love looking at their ugly mugs whenever I wake up<3
Hating mood swings. I was so happy this morning, and then everthing seemed to just get smothered by a blanket of un-nice-ness. (What an amazingly unique and grammatically correct metaphor; I must make a note of it to use in my EngLang exam...)
What started off as a perfectly nice schoolday, pretty much jumped off a cliff at the end - lemming style. I think it was because I wasn't wearing my rope - I've very strong beliefs about luck: not doing or wearing things a certain way, or just doing them differently, equals bad luck. Like using different shampoo.
Advancing (on), ambulating, bustling (past), cantering, crawling, drifting (around), escorting, excersising (hard), going (away), hiking (far), hoofing (it), hurrying (each other), jumping (ditches), knocking (about), leading (the group), legging (it), locomoting, lumbering (along), marching (forwards), meandering, migrating, pacing, padding, parading (past), patrolling, plodding (uphill), prancing, proceeding, progressing (constantly), promenading, propelling, pushing (ourselves), racing, roaming, (let us be) rolling, roving, running (not), sauntering, scuffing, shuffling, skipping (sometimes), slogging, stalking (YOU.), stepping (repeatedly), striding, strolling, strutting, toddling, touring (fields), traipsing (mud), tramping (crops), travelling (places), traversing, treading, trekking (way too far), trooping, trudging (home), wandering (lost), wayfaring, wending one's way : Walking (DofE).
This was one of the best weekends I've ever had! Even though I was doing a practice DofE expedition (which incidentally did involve a fair amount of pain...).
The upside of the whole thing was most definitely brioche hedgehogs - something of my own creation involving too-dry brioche and large chocolate buttons and obviously a massive dollop of early morning inspiration. I even named one Kevin, he was the most awesome brioche hedgehog before he got ripped in half. I did manage to take a picture though, yay!
Okay, the people there made it pretty special too...
OMNOMNOM BRIOCHE HEDGEHOG.
Watching 'Lola Rennt' made me realise how the littlest choice anyone makes changes everyone's lives more drastically than you can imagine...
Does fate/luck/destiny exist? Luck is the description of when something good happens unreasonably. Is it luck or destiny that I've had the chances to meet who I have?
I was talking to one of my best friends at lunchtime today and a topic we were talking about on DofE came up and she said 'You'd rather be with [2 nice people] than [2 fit people]?' and I said yes, I would. Because I would.
Call that choice.
I can feel the itch, Not phyically scratchable because something figurative can't be touched. It's a sixth sense, niggling away in my brain. I feel I'm being watched, my breathing. My shifting. Then I look up and make eye contact. A single, fragile thread binds our gazes for a mere moment and then it breaks, like a spider's web under the prodding of a destructive child. Though this doesn't feel destructive - something's being built, however slowly. Someday, I hope there'll be a building. Even though builders nowadays take forever to finish a building, when a building's built it'll stay standing.
Did you know 'lol' means 'dick' in Dutch? Because according to someone, it does... Should I believe him?
Babel Fish says I shouldn't.
But since when does Babel Fish ever make accurate translations? It never actually translates anything right. It now means that I can never say or use the phrase 'lol' (...especially 'bare lols'...) without cringing and going "Ohhhh". Grr.
Now I have the rest of a blank canvas to fill, somewhere to craft a body of words. The letters the pigment. My fingers the brushes. A white void to be filled. It becomes fuller, even more so. Full.
What to do with
The Green Eyed Monster
What drives humanity
Other than electicity?
The chemical signals in their body?
The creature that is
Is the answer.
Hidden not so deep in
Some will try repress it, the
come when they let it
How can they be so selfish?
What makes them so different?
The world is ours and no-ones, belonging to the now, the future.
Though, maybe it won't.
With people not caring,
Leaving everything we know to be ravaged by the demon
We have no right to be selfish.
We have no
We have no
The voice is taken
I've never really wished to be anyone else, I've wanted to see what it'd be like to be someone else for a day, but I am very, extremely glad to be me at the moment. I hope to live 'til I'm 182. Maybe we'll have hovercrafts by then... But I'd rather have one of those mobility scooters, just to terrorise the pedestrians of whichever town I live in - in the town where my Grandparents live, they have such an OAP - guerilla of the pavements... The Pasta King prices might even be reasonable by then... you never know, miracles do happen.
I finished Anne Frank's diary yesterday (it must be for the 10th time...) and I've been looking at the Anne Frank website and I feel different - a mixture of happy and sad - after reading her diary I feel as if know her. She should be here. I'm glad she got her work published and wherever she is I hope she knows of her legacy. I feel connected with her in a way - I can see bits of myself and my feelings in her words. Anne, you are some of my comfort and support that Kitty was to you. Thank you.
AMW and I are too amazing at catching trains. (Incase you hadn't noticed, sarcasm was actually gushing out of that sentence... ) We managed to catch the train about 45 minutes and three trains later after we intended... Which is a large improvement on our last attempt where we ended up catching the Kings Cross train that only stops at Royston. See, at least we caught the right train. From now on I'm leaving the train-catching to other people, or I could just have a rant in the few words I have left about how it wasn't really my fault?
It's nice to know you're not the only one who does things sometimes. However, my family seems to be the only one in the WORLD who has hot milk on their weetabix, and then mixes it in. Everyone who hears of my weetabix-making-habits thinks I'm weird. Well. I think you're pretty weird for using cold milk. Yeah. I have managed to convert one of my friends though, and she now thinks I am as sane as I can be, being me. I can't be the only one who has hot rather than cold weetabix, I mean, come on...
The countdown starts, the descision is made, the electricity surges, it zips along, accross the synapse, just a bit further, signals a muscle, the muscle contracts, the people smile, the finger pushes, the button depresses, the shutter clicks, a moment is captured, forever. A photo captures a moment, forever. A laugh, a grin, an expression, a person. A memory, a year (or 5). A good time, the good times. To keep forever and look at again and again and remember all those moments and laughs and grins and expressions and people. And memories and years. And the bloody good times.
It was SO cold today. Apparently it might snow on the weekend if it's cold enough when it rains... And I'm doing my final Silver DofE.
While I'm dragging myself through frozen ditches in the freezing wet, everyone else will be at home feeling all nice, warm and cosy. I have no problems with DofE normally, it's just that last time my feet got wet, things got a bit dire to say the least... We'll have to see how it goes. I swear it isn't usually this cold this time of year.
Ha, typical English. Talking about the weather...
The sentence "Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo" is amazingly grammatically correct (Buffalo from Buffalo who're buffaloed by buffalo from Buffalo buffalo other buffalo from Buffalo.)
I pride myself on the fact that I write grammatically correct text messages (apart from when I run out of space...) and facebook wall posts. I'm not picky about spelling etm. but I like to get it right. And I most certainly have some friends who like to get it right... They (and everyone else) know(s) who they are. Pronounciation as well - is it lasagne or lasagne? Definitely lasagne. Potato potato.
We all know the human race is very diverse, so diverse that there are those who are good and bad, pretty and ugly, clever and stupid. I just wanted to draw the point to the last two extremes: Clever and Stupid. Clever is such a broad term and people generally use it to encompass academically able people, but there are people who are clever with their hands rather than their brains who can craft a piece of wood or cook a cake a lot better than writing an essay. The world needs to realise that not everyone can do everything.
The top of the world, around us anyway. The top of my feelings, especially for the situation. Previously, we'd seen the grey breath of the storm enveloping the land below us in it's inescapale tendrils. It was ineviatably going to hit us, but we were caught totally off guard. A flash and a bang later our screams pierced the air as the gunshot of thunder scattered all rational thought to the death grip of the wind. Then we ran. The liquid hail pummeling us, our screams whipped away by the wind...
As was said, 'This isn't a bloody nature programme!'
It's nice to be able to be proud of yourself - on the way to the beach (as a reward for a gruelling weekend) I saw a latin motto: 'In deo fidelimus', I think it was.
Well, it ends in 'mus' so it must be 'we'...
'In' - pretty obvious...
So, 'In god we ...'
Fidelo - fidelity...faithfulness...
It must mean 'We believe in god!'
I was rather proud of myself being able to translate it. Many people, including myself, have said Latin is pointless, but I have realised it really isn't: we need to know it to understand old texts.
There are a lot of things that make me smile and I will always be able to look back on this past weekend with a sweet smile on my face. Thank you to my group (much love), the weather (apart from one little blip you were great...) and just generally the world for being there for us to peruse at will. The pictures will capture our happy smiles forever for everyone to see. I love the way people's faces light up when they smile - a crinkle around the eyes and the illumination of their faces. Smiles really do brighten days.
Politics is a very dull and dreary affair, so corrupt and hated, yet so
needed and necessary. Why not the other way round? Why are such necessary things so horrid and such loved things so scarce and only able to be done in special circumstances. I would certainly like a reversal in the state of affairs. The obstacle is people's viewpoints, if everyone thought the same then there'd be no need for separate parties; everyone would agree. My friends and I often have engaging discussions related to current affairs, but the only reason they're so interesting is everyone's unique ideas.
What is there to say?
Not very much really.
Isn't there a lot that needs to be said?
You know what you want to say, don't you?
There's quite a lot I want to say...
It's fine when there's only yourself to say it to isn't it?
There's a lot of things I could say, but paper listens like a person, has more patience and less tendency to interrupt and judge.
But it can't talk back, can it?
Not really no, but how can I tell everyone how happy I am when there are no words for it?
You can fill up this blank, white space with anything. I prefer to use it as a sort of diary, to write down anything that happened to inspire me that day. I love how words can do anything. They can sit there on the page, or stick in people's minds... They can stay for milennia or get lost in the passage of time. I have decided that over the course of my life I am going to learn a load of languages: (English, obviously), German, Russian, French, Dutch, Japanese, Polish, and any others that take my fancy. You watch me.
I would really like it if characters and settings in books were real... (I'm sure I'm not the only one who at 11 years old waited fervently in anticipation for a letter from Hogwarts.) But I would also like characters from other books, like the Famous 5 for instance, to be real. But I suppose they're meant to be alive enough in your mind to compensate for the fact that they don't actually exist in the real world, only in the domain of words. If only Neverland was actually real, second star to the right and straight on 'til morning...
Whenever I'm walking anywhere by myself, I like to plug myself into my headphones and plod along the pavements, tuned into my own thoughts. But of course, The Cat Empire and Pink Floyd are not the soundtrack of the world. I don't think I ever really realised that the hum of an engine and the whistle of the wind are sometimes a lot more enjoyable than the sweet descant of a guitar solo, however nice it might be. But today walking home with the chatter of the birds and the waving of the leaves in my ear instead, was nice.
Not particularly good or bad, sort of mediocre.
Good, but not elite.
Almost there, but not quite.
That's second place.
Can't quite catch up
Do they feel put upon?
Is there a weight they carry
Alone, taunted by the world?
Do I have to tell you for the second time?
Turns out it was good I didn't go a second time.
Never mind second, will there ever be a first time?
It doesn't feel like long,
It's not really a huge task.
100 words a day,
from mind to page.
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