Colour

If anyone has ever seen my bedroom they will know how miss matched and colourful it is. I have blue walls and a orange rug and my furniture doesn't match from years of separate pieces being replaced when they broke. I have a black sheet on my bed and a dark blue duvet with flowers on and loads of pillows. Last night I slept on crisp white sheets in a hotel room and it made me think of a post I saw on Tumblr. 

Tumblr is obsessed with soulmate theories that could be adapted to suit fan fiction and one of them is that you only see black and white until you meet your soulmate. My world is already so colourful from the new people I meet to my old scrapbooks I made in primary school and my world gets brighter and more full of colour every day and therefore I can't imagine it changing that drastically. 

My world may not change that much, someone else's might. 

One Year On

This Saturday will be the one year anniversary of the end of my secondary school life. This Saturday also happens to be one of my best mate's birthday as well, yes my last exam last year was on a Friday the 13th on my mate's birthday... and it was maths.

Lots of things have changed over the past year such as; my hair colour, my glasses prescription, where I go to "learn", and the people I interact with on a daily basis. These have all been good changes, except the glasses thing as I am slowly getting more blind, but some things have stayed the same and it's good that they have. For example; although my old mates and I all have new friends and new people that we choose to spend our days with, we have all invited each other to birthday parties because we know it just wouldn't be the same if we weren't all there.

Last month my friend's mum did that parent thing where they tell their child's mates things that their child wouldn't tell them themselves. I, and a few others in the room, were subjected to a short speech on how her daughter misses us when we can't even see each other once a month when once upon a time we couldn't be separated. Those of us in the room decided there and then to try get us all to see one another at least once a month, even if it is just for lunch and as summer is just around the corner once again it presents the perfect opportunity for just that.

My own birthday is next month and even if I can't have a proper party, I am making them all come and see me, like the overpowering dictator god I am to them ( We all have a character from Marvel's Avengers that we associate with and I am Loki, of course).

A year on from leaving a five year long torture session in hell and the people I dragged through with me are still with me now. Thanks for that guys, Satan sends her regards.

Torture of the best kind

His lips were soft. Too soft. Like kissing a cloud of vaporised candy floss. There was no harshness there either, only dainty chick pecks. They were very pink, as pink as pomegranate seeds, which are rather red now that I think about it, as just as sweet. 

It was too fast, the experience that is. He was slow. Drawing out the nips and tongue flicks, he paced it like a long distance race. Sometimes repetitive and easy and occasionally the rare trip up where the crowd gets rattled again. It was also like a sprint. The excitement and thrill was over all too quickly. 

Breathing didn't matter, in fact we forgot how to. We were in a world where we didn't have to inhale oxygen and exhale carbon dioxide. Somehow we still managed to hitch our breaths, the gasps coming after the shivers still expired from our trachea. I am still not sure my avioli have recovered completely. 

I don't know why we stopped but he left a ghost. It haunts me every time someone new comes along. It traces a replay of our time on my skin so I am always reminded. It's torturous to live through it day after day, like the cogs constantly turning, pulling your limbs further away from your torso. 

 

I can't stop it. I don't want to. 

Lads

I'm sure by now everyone knows at least one "Lad". 

No?

Let me explain what a lad is; someone who is a bit of a twat, may be sexist, racist, or homophobic, and won't respect any views that are against social norms that you have, but you can't really stop being friends with them because you don't really know how. Now you realise you probably know one. 

I know several. All decent "Lads", but can get on my nerves at times and they do take the piss out of my views on a regular basis. I do want to stay friends with them because I would be a loner without them but I just need to be on some really strong drugs to deal with their shit. 

P.s. I don't see what the big deal about Nandos is. It's not that nice. 

Coraline (The only movie I can't watch)

There are very few things that freak me out. I can handle horror and gory movies no problem, I can sit for hours and watch TV shows based on conspiracy theories and the supernatural, I can even watch Barbie movies without screaming and running from the room, but the one movie that makes me want to curl up into a ball and break every needle, bobbin, and lala loopsy doll in sight is Coraline. 

Coraline is meant to be a kids film about a girl who finds a alternative world that is idealised just for her behind the bricked up door in her drawing room. It is better than her real life and had the caring mother and father that she wants, the only difference; everyone in that world has buttons for eyes. 

I'm sure that most people would have seen, read, or heard about Coraline and would know what happenes in it, if not go and watch it then come back, and I bet nearly everyone would agree that it scared them. The movie is a Stop motion animation, this makes it look even more real and horrid. 

I watched it again yesterday with my sister, who is six, and she wasn't even phased by it... How? I was eleven when I first saw it and I didn't sleep for a week! Between the button eyes and needle claws I was scared of going anywhere near the textiles classroom in school and later that year when I found a doll in a charity shop that looked like me and was told to buy it, I left the shop. No way am I facing the Beldam because I know I wouldn't resist the better world, it would have so many fictional characters in that would do my bidding. 

Also I drew this in college today;

It is on my desk in front of me and I don't even want to look at it, it's so freaky. 

P.s. I would have red buttons, I like red. 

Choice

Exam season starts in just a week and it had me thinking, did I choose the right road?

I ask myself this now because at the end of my GCSEs everything was rushed to get you ready for the big wide world, or sixth form as it is known, and then the new school year started. New place, new people, subjects that I chose to do and base my life around for the remainder of said life. Did I choose wrong?

The sciences have always been my best subject but what if I was meant to go down the language route and work in different countries instead of a lab? I won't know. 

We are expected to know what jobs we want at the very young age of 14, when we choose out GCSEs, and by the time we get to 18, we have to choose whether we want to work or go to university and study something that most people regret and get into debt for it. 

Did I make the right choices? I have been pushed to do these things by teachers, family, friends, and if because I willingly went with it, it's me that gets the brunt of it if I fail. 

Did I make the right choices? 

I bloody well hope so. 

Male coverage

All around my college at the moment are posters advertising awareness for domestic violence. They say things such as, " Are you a dream boyfriend by day and a control freak by night?" and, "Are you his princess one minute and a stupid tart the next?" The one thing that most of them have in common is that they are all centered around the males being the abuser and the females being the victims. This is the most common type of abuse we see but the roles can be switched.

Women can abuse men too but the reason we don't ever see it advertised is because men don't report it as often. Society teaches men from a early age that they should be strong and not cry or be seen as weak. We teach our young boys to stand up and be a man when they say that they feel inadequate. And most importantly, they are told that they should be above women in every way. This is why they don't report abuse from a girlfriend or wife, because we teach them that if they are below a woman, they are cowards, they are less of a man, they are the lowest of the low. 

Yes, domestic abuse is a big problem for women but it is a bigger problem for men. Female victims are given coverage, males aren't. 

Stop teaching boys that they must be stronger than girls, it doesn't do any good for their health.