puppet master, please stop tugging on these strings.

ever get that split second feeling? you know the one where it feels like you're not in control of your body, as if you're just outside it, floating, understanding, examining. 

that has been me. but for the last four days. i literally don't feel like myself. 

i am asleep. you are moving.

i am numb. you are speaking.

i am crying out. you are taking my air.

everything hurts and aches. i want to cry but the tears are wedged. i am being selfish and argumentative. i am snapping oh so much.

i am battling with my inner-self.

our weirdness is amazingly compatible.

just to say:
the phone networks are better off because of us.

our chats seem to get freakier by the day.

she's enhanced my addiction to blogger.

she's the face on a weekday morning

she's the funniest, prettiest, greatest person (*cough* immortal) around.

just because something has stepped in her way, i know she will still get to where she needs to be someday and have everything she desires, because she sure as hell deserves it. 

we have a mutual love for the tipsy kind of drinks.

we could rant for england.

she'd better make sure that there is a space for me to stay in her university dorm.

she keeps me sane.

she is as close to the definition of best friend as there can be.

 love you m'dear.

tears fall like raindrops; people do too.

i'm falling. 

faster and faster.

down and down. 

but you're not there to catch me.

maybe this is my fault. maybe karma has finally tracked me down.

either way, the ground is getting closer.

but i am already dazed and torn and broken. 

a sudden dose of the regretful kind of nostalgia.

i'm realising how many stupid mistakes i've made. the people i've hurt. 

i've been so naive. 

i'm torn. i'm two different people. we're attached by a heart and mind.  we're not team-players.

i'm my parent's daughter.

i'm a friend who listens. 

i'm a person who doesn't normally do impulsive things.

i'm a person who is starting to. 

i'm scared of who i'm becoming. i'm just scared.

i want to be better. i want to be seen as together, and strong, and fearless, and reliable. i want you to understand me. i want to let you in. i want to be seen as better than this.

i have no idea what's been happening. my mind is a mess. i'm realising it, with the days of silence. i need to sort everything out. 

dance to the emotions in your heart.

i find it harder to write when i'm in a mellow mood: neither bursting with joy, nor breaking down with tears.

words are so hard to find sometimes.

other times though. a feeling can be completely explained and jutified in just one sentence, one lyric. 

they say artists feel more than others. and partly i believe this to be true. but mostly, i think they have just solved the true means of explanation that we are all searching for. to transmit their feelings through their words, their images, their voice. 

a song can define your emotion, can reveal so many other emotions, can change people, can stop the world just for 3 minutes. people will listen, people will be inspired.

and in a way i envy this.

.............................................................................................................................................

Wales was really good, thank you to all for wishing me well.

My summer officially started on Thursday. Yaay! And finally landed some work experience, after a three month chase, in the environmental sector. So relieved.

a thousand different faces.

my walk home is filled with fascination. 

as you're on your own; wrapped up in thoughts; conjuring lists of the billion things that need to be done. 

people walk by.

tall.

short.

alone.

with pets.

sorrowful.

tired.

smiling.

each with their own story. that i will never know. and probably neither will the person behind me.

but doing this walk every day, you do start to see the same kind of people on route. 

no names, just 'the old man and his dog', 'the husband and wife', 'the guy on the bike'.

there is something poetic about that. the sense of familiarity. the fact that a person will say good morning to you. no judgement. no questions. no way of knowing where each is going. where you've been. just a smile. a smile to send you on your way to another day.

and there is something beautifully simple about the joy that provides.

so i ask you...


 

the rare day of summer.

sun. 

heat. 

shoes kicked off. 

lying on my back.
on a huge rug in the middle of the garden. 
sweet smell of grass.

sunglasses. 

lemonade. 

'99 red balloons' blaring from next door. 

hello sunshine. 

hello smiles.

hello summer days.

  

(off to wales tomorrow for five days. enjoy the week dear bloggers.)