Nashville is back on UK aired television!!
Anybody else excited?!
Nashville is back on UK aired television!!
Anybody else excited?!
Recently, I wrote a poem and submitted it to a local broadcast radio show. I JUST got an email back saying they will broadcast my poem!
It’s about loving something, or someone, so much and so dear, when suddenly you find they’re not your own anymore and you’re having to struggle against the tide to hold onto them. And when you are holding on to them, they don’t love you anymore and everything just turns bitter. Love has gone wrong and love is now empty.
NOTE: I wrote this not about anyone I know personally, but about a singer-songwriter who I adored for some intense few years. Now, they’re a complete sellout and it makes me sad to see them like this now, all contemporary, cheap and fake compared to the beauty and richness of how they used to be. At least, that’s how I remember them to be.
Try and work out who the poem addresses if you wish.
Sadly, I can guarantee you will have heard of them.
i loved you, back then
but now the love tastes bitter and scalded
i still think of you, all the time
of the days back when you were Mine
because there was a time,
when i used to run around Fearless,
knowing what we had was a perfect little
your Starlight shined to me
and although i still remain Invisible to you
i’ll still forever adore you,
although your State of Grace has now fallen
i wanted you to stay forever sixteen,
i wanted you to Never Grow Up
i wanted you to Stay
The Way I Loved You was intense,
and so, so easy; Untouchable,
but jealousy has spiralled in and out,
and out of my control
you comforted a girl whose world had been shattered
around her by divorce, depression
you allowed her to Breathe
now i’m stuck, stuck on The Outside
where it’s bitter and cold
Everything Has Changed
so Long Live
those times I used to share with you
because they’re not my own anymore
and they were truly The Best Day(s)
And when I think Tim McGraw,
I do think of you
It’s personal, it’s deep, and it’s cutting. I was in rather a melacholy state of sadness when I wrote it. I just wish they could read it too and see how much they mean to people when they change.
Apparently, cats just love to lie and sleep in sinks. I wasn’t aware of this. But they just do!
I mean, how cute!
Mal does tend to jump in the sink whenever I brush my teeth, and she does have a fondness for the shower. (I think she thinks it’s like a TARDIS time machine. She always goes in there) But never has she curled up in the sink and decided to claim it as a bed. She just does that to my face instead when I’m all wrapped up in my sheets.
Link to more abudance of adorable cats and kittens in sinks to be found here.
I told you earlier that there are currently teenage boys constructing forts and having nerfgun battles to the death in our house right now. So far nerfgun battles we’ve had are constituting at roughly 3 per day. I am apparently their backup.
We’ve also had squabbles, alcohol ramblings and coming home at approximately 2.30am last night.
I thought, to paint a better image in your minds of our weekend, I’d take a photo of the boys and the fort they made. It is actually pretty good. Our sofa is literally upside down right now, with a blanket smothered over it, acting like a gateway into the dark hole within.
Mal is up there too … somewhere!
They’ve calmed down for now. Give them xbox and they calm down. It’s what I’ve learned.
Food also helps a lot. There are crumbs everywhere.
Mal is also enjoying herself. She is treating the fort as her own little princess tower, I think and won’t come down.
She’s very happy.
Let’s see what the rest of the night entail…
I’m a writer who has a basic outline of a plan which I follow through as much as I can. But I’m a writer who never knows where her end is going. Eventually, I find it. But right now, I’m writing a story with the theme of alienation, about a man who is gossiped about by his neighbours, whilst strange things are happening in his house. Truthfully, the house wants him dead. Odd, I know.
Right now, it’s nearing the end and he’s almost at the other end of sanity. But I don’t know whether to have him resolve the ordeal peacefully and have a somewhat happy ending, or whether to let the house ultimately get its wish so he can once again be reunited with his late wife. See, there is a happy ending in there somewhere.
Then there’s his dog too. One of the neighbours have resolved that when the man goes, the dog shall too. But killing off a dog seems too sensitive a topic to write in a short story? Surely? Especially if the man himself commits them both to suicide inside his dingy old dark living room.
I imagine him to be somewhat similar to Filch, just a little less tragic.
I’m struggling to find my ending. Have you ever stumbled over this too?
If you did, what did you do?
Mal (my cat) is currently sat on the stairs, and going into certain rooms of the house at different intervals positively HOWLING as if in pain.
I was so worried. I took her to the vets when I found certain medical unfamiliars oozing out of her orifices and found her in the hallway crouching in what looked like very uncomfortable positions. I was seriously worried sick. I thought something must be seriously wrong.
I took her to the vets immediately! She was so quiet on the journey there – I’d never heard her make less noise! She was starting to freak me out, big time. I thought perhaps the ghost in our student house had taken hold of her and was making her little life hell. She is only five months old, so as a proud new mummy I was panic stricken. Mummies cannot have their babies upset! (Yes. I think of her as my child.)
The vet, after lots of prodding and uncomfortable poking – and a temperature check that Mal certainly did NOT appreciate – resolved the situation calmly by telling me Mal is merely in heat.
SHE WANTS BABIES. SHE WANTS TO GET FRISKY WITH OTHER MALE KITTIES.
Oh, my God. Heavens. Mercy. WHAT NEXT?!
This was taken when she was just a baby!
I was not expecting this. My little girly… is all grown up!
Her howling is a result of her female cries for a willing mate. Well, if I have anything to do with it – and I am her mother – no willing mates will be coming near her! She is only a baby – my baby!
I can’t believe after all of that (I was expecting the vets just to give her antibiotics for a urinary tract) all she wants to do is get rather amarous with other kitties!
Earlier, I blogged telling you tall tales of how I was going to spend the afternoon walking around the lovely place where I live and see what inspiration struck me with. I planned to write, and walk, and indulge myself in the luxury sights that are contained at harbourside Cornwall.
And you know what? I did!
Taking routes I’d never known before it was such a pleasant experience to walk without haste in an environment I was unaccustomed to, yet everything around me was still so familiar. It was my own little adventure.
I had quiet.
I had solitude.
I had grace.
I was so inspired I wrote a little something:
The house was languid and fine, with a little bit of wear and tear around the edges. It was a large house, with black iron railings and an archway standing boldly before the pathway to the garden. A balcony, on the second floor of the house which passers-by could look upon if they so desired from the boundaries of the outside. It was a grand house, one that distinctly belonged to another time. It was old, with a great brass knocker on the door with chipped paint, yet it still resonated beauty with its old age.
Inspiration struck me with joy when I was avidly scribbling this down in my notebook.
Writers see. Writers see, and then they write. And that is what I wrote. And I’m embarrassed to admit I’m a little proud.
Who knows? Maybe one day that little passage will spark a novel, one day.
Have you ever been inspired by a certain place/landscape? I’d love to hear about it.
I woke up this morning, (relatively late) and realised I have the whole week … free! I have lots of research to do for my presentation in university, however this means I can do all of this at home – which ultimately means I have more time!
So, my idea is to go for a walk today and let my surroundings inspire me. To walk around, at a slow pace or fast – it doesn’t matter – in one of the most beautiful places in the country, I’m appalled at myself why I don’t walk and take in the scenery more (walking to work and looking out across the peaceful harbour doesn’t count). Living in Cornwall is a blessing. It’s just so beautiful and rich in heritage, regional identity and calmness. There is no rush here. It is rather unlike any other place in the country, I find. So, why not indulge in it?
Oh yes. I live here.
Even if I am going to have to walk in the rain.
As Owen Wilson says, “
Paris Cornwall is at its most beautiful in the rain”. Right?
Actually it’s very muddy and I don’t have a hood on my coat. But oh well. I do have a pretty cowboy brooch fastened onto the collar, and that’s good enough!
So … it looks like I’m off to walk in the rain.
Off in the beautiful, gentle rain across the valleys and harbours of seaside Cornwall.
Knitting Night DID NOT happen, fellows.
I was there, all ready. So excited.
To go knitting, with my friend.
And she told me she couldn’t go.
To have a plausible excuse it was her nan’s 80th birthday. Being so scatty, she completely forgot. And felt really bad.
So, naturally, I let her off.
I was kind of nervous about going anyway, which is why I barely had the courage to go walk into Dolly’s by myself, knitting needles and ball of yarn in hand. (Dolly’s is the wine bar/tea room where the session is held).
So, my knitting session with fellow knitters has been put on hold.
I’m so excited about the fact that I’ve been reunited with my musical earbuds! FYI, that loosely translates to headphones.
I have been without music for on average roughly three months – almost four. Upon getting my kitten, Mal, when she was a teeny tot she just loved chewing on anything she could get her tiny padded paws on. And a long line of fiddly headphones with delicious tangly wires seemed to be her favourite thing to demolish.
I cannot count how many she has gone through – and not only just mine. She has chewed through my boyfriend’s earphones approximately three? times (I think) and at least one decrepit, old pair of my roommate’s who lives upstairs. What did I tell you? She loves them.
So, on a fairly indulgent trip to ASDA store this morning before my university essay submission (I even treated myself to a £2.50 mop and bucket) I grabbed a pair of headphones. They are blue, and pummeling country music through my ears as of right now, and I love them. Even better, I looked at them properly when I got home this evening and the description isn’t just blue – it’s none other than peppermint blue.
If you’ve read my other blogposts, you’ll know that I adore peppermint tea. There is just simply no other better tea leaf better on this single standing earth. I think these headphones and I are made for each other; our love is of quality. It makes me love my iTunes after being bored of listening to it aloud through my stale laptop speakers so, so much.
Here’s to appreciating music, whatever the genre. As long as you have shiny new peppermint blue headphones, who cares if it’s god awful ugly music? At least the quality’s good, right?