Melodies

[26]

2012-01-29T10:25:00.003Z

Delved in to my drafts. The posts which didn't quite make the cut. Located a little sparrow of a reflection haphazardly formed years ago as I perched in an unfamiliar coffee shop in a now familiar row of St Pancras shops.

"A pot of tea, gorgeous ceramic cup (that narrowly escaped abduction in to my bag) and a table within a café providing a view across the lower St Pancreas International floor. As the world walked by I pretty much sat gazing. It’s incredibly therapeutic.
Stood in the door read the sign ‘....'"

Can't for the life of me recall the sign. I photographed it. Lost it. It was poignant and yet obviously not so memorable enough for it to stick. I was lazy. So lazy. Photographing. Nowadays photographing happens behind eyes, so recollection is not determined by something somebody said, or in this case something written, it exists in a snapshot of scenery touched with fading colouring. In turn tapping in to the internal recording software [o] triggering the whole scene to play [>] - so touchable. A shift to the past called upon by the present. [stop]

Does THAT make sense?

I found a page. Or more the page found me. No. Page found itself. It's the same page, yet it exists in two totally differing worlds. Guess I'm sharing a page, or attempting to share a page. Having absence from page sharing I'm unsure of the rules - who writes first, who turns the page, who determines when to break, when to full stop and capital letter?
Suppose investing in two pens may be a starting pt.

[25]

2011-12-17T21:48:00.002Z

This time of year. The knot returns and tightens. A blanket of sadness falls and holds...not in comfort.

[24]

2011-10-24T23:49:00.001+01:00

Today I was heard. A snippet of an identity:http://bit.ly/n02UUw

Solidarity on the steps of St Paul's
Monday 24 October 2011

Support and solidarity are clearly apparent on the steps of St Paul's.It gives me hope that with like-minded individuals peacefully protesting for their rights and beliefs, and the future of our country doesn't reside in a generation of lazy and opportunistic thugs, as they have been labelled, but in youth with a strong voice to be heard.I can't help but borrow lyrics from our much-loved childrens' classic Mary Poppins as I stand on the steps of St Paul's, "Though [their] words are simple and few, feed the birds, tuppence a bag..." Wealthy pockets should distribute what is owed.
Rosie Bloom
London NW1

[23] You're Where Dreams Go to Die

2011-10-05T23:16:00.002+01:00

Pocket all reference. All memory. All recollection.

Once again dipping in and out of consciousness. Falling in and out of misplaced/mistimed seasons.

She's still chasing him. Lifting those rocks. Double taking at strangers. For a ghost. She - that small flutter hidden within, the strangest of strangers. When will she stop. Just stop. Look up. Stop glancing back. Look forward [To what?]. Catch up with me [She won't]. Cut it off. Keep shutting it off. Face his demise.

Leave it in the dark. The pitch black. Let it drown in emptiness.

[22]

2011-09-04T13:06:00.000+01:00

Not intelligent enough to stop thinking.

[21] It's Just The Radio

2011-07-31T23:02:00.008+01:00

----------------------------------------------------------------
Playing my sad guitar.
----------------------------------------------------------------

You know, insanely tired - lack of sleep due to frequent traffic under my window.
Everything sounds louder.
Everything appears slower.
Everything feels disconnected.

I can stand anywhere and I will see different lives in an opaque, fluid like surface living alongside my own solid line. Different lives of my own. Not others. Overlapping. Creating this textured layered complexity. Lives which continued existing once their existence ceased to prolong in my current reality. The 'what if' lives. The hindsight lives.
They don't exist permanently. Times of solitude one will skip past unknowingly, merge ever so slightly with my reality and then fold back in to the backdrop. A face, a time, a place, a sound, sight, smell - initiates it. Not a memory. These aren't triggers for memory - they are triggers in to parallel present continuance.

----------------------------------------------------------------
Playing my happy guitar.
----------------------------------------------------------------

You know - elated. Recovered from restless nights.
Everything sounds harmonious.
Everything appears brighter.
Everything feels warmer.

I'm here. A little more integrated in to the goings on of the capital. A participator rather than an onlooker. May have found the right shoes to guide my lost feet.

[20]

2011-07-14T20:08:00.002+01:00

Electronic book. Robotic. I see them on the train. Everywhere.

So wrong.

[19] Control

2011-07-09T15:00:00.005+01:00

I sat in my coffee shop. Sketchbook. Pilot Pen. Small white coffee. And a window.

Into the sketchbook piles random thoughts.
A timeline. Present to future.
If you could see your future reflected, would you mirror it in the present?

No.
You know what happens. No need to walk that path. Why the want to know?
Knowing = Reassurance.
However. We want the unknown.

Yes.
You know what happens. You like what happens.
However. Placing a foot wrong may destroy your future.
Knowing = Fear.

Control.
That's what this all is. The want to control. If you were the only factor, you would have full control. However you are not the only factor.
Control = Selfish.

I control myself. Lifestyle. Job. Where. When. How. What I allow people to see of me. Is this a selfish control? Why do I feel the need to control myself?

Fear.
When. When did this isolation and control commence?
A string of close relationships terminated. Initiated at 3 years old. Goodbye daddy. Last heavy relationship at 20 years old - he left me.
[So many valued strong relationships - people who mattered - gone]

Fear of sleepovers at friends houses. Fear that my mother would vanish if I left her side for a prolonged period.
This is my pattern. This is why I am why.
Fear of abandonment.

Where am I now?
Still in fear?

I cannot maintain a relationship if I am wanted.
I can only involve myself in relationships with those who don't want a long term affair. I know they will leave.
No surprise + no unexpected hurt = Knowing.

I will leave you if you want me. I will leave the moment you commit. Because I cannot take further heartache. I cannot allow myself to let you in.
I will reject before you are lost.

Empty coffee cup. Closed sketchbook. Embrace the world.

[18]

2011-07-07T20:46:00.006+01:00

There was a man. Frail. Slightly ahead of him, his dog. Equally well lived. They crawled the perimeter of a lake I used to know. Often I'd see them. Slowly breathing in the freshness of their daily routine. Open sky.
Not so bright. Lightness blocked out by two black crows hovering above. Mirroring each movement. Mocking the grounded footsteps both the man and dog respectively fell in to. Shadows of blackness. Nature on the brink of dutifully fulfilling its role.

I returned to my lake. I did not see either. The inevitability of darkness lurking stealthily. To this day that is sadness. That is the zenith of all sadness.

I wonder. Wonder if that is a glimpse of my life to be. Scuffing the same soil. Holding on to a muted friend. I don't foresee a man holding on to me. Too inside my own head. Too cold. Too disconnected from love. I've forgotten what it means. How to allow it. Those who offer it, it's not taken. Too easy. If it's too easy, there's a catch.

Fear. Fear that as I progress through life I am increasingly shutting myself off from feeling. Complexities I know. Four-sided simplistic boxes are far more appealing, easier to stack and organise accordingly. They're moulded for ease. Slip effortlessly in to society. My Russian Doll format however leaves no clear pattern to utilizing space effectively. Has to be precise. Difficult to comprehend.

Simplicity. Crave it. Want to be it.

[17]

2011-07-06T23:01:00.004+01:00

There's something here to be said. Read.

Lay it on the page.

Sense the familiarity. Vacant words over caffeine - I'm hot. You're cold - filling the void to ease in to that comfortable state. That state of trust. Progress a weighty full stop in to a string of ellipses and inevitability question the motives of our arrangement.

What good is a love affair, if love fails to permeate the very act of expression?
What good is knowing someone, if surface restricts access to depth?
Why love someone, who's only knowing is an affair?
If love is depth. Surface is an act.

The simultaneous equation of complicated relationships.

[16] Commuting

2010-11-05T07:30:00.003Z

It has been a while fellow Earth lodgers.

What brings me back to this vortex of self indulgence? Well, I doubt I'll ever really cut the tugging strings. Temptation is too strong.

This morning, commuting. Driving to work as per usual. Down the M62. For the first time in a long time the ant line was highly apparent. Queing to take formation. None of these neighbouring cars were friends. None containing people I know. Yet we had one known common trait; we were heading in the same direction. Physically, not metaphorically.
I find it sad. We live in an age of isolation. Of individual shelter.

Guessing the backstory of a driver is a favourite game of mine. Their characteristic driving skills provide the basis mostly.
Man in suit, taking his time in the middle lane, adequate distance from the car in front. Highly controlled. Life is a line he draws. Business orientated no doubt with a wife he barely sees, no children and unquenchable thirst to achieve but unsatisfied with the breadth of his options in which he can do so.

The young man who rolls down his window, flicks his cigarette out and then proceeds in cutting across the front of my car in order to reach the fast line in which the brick falls and away he zooms. Inconsiderate, no care for his surroundings, potentially unfortunate childhood and an unknowing or even comprehension of what life is, what he holds and the potential he has to make a difference, somehow.

Then there is me. Middle lane. Analytical of everything in reaching distance of eyesight. Flick the wing-mirror down to check I'm not insane and that there is someone in the car listening to my thoughts. Curious of what lies horizontally in the fields, bored of the vertically unchallenging tarmac which proceeds.

Commuting. Tic tock. Tic tock.

[15]

2010-03-26T22:55:00.001Z

Hooked on time. Obsessed. Truly I am.
Circling notions. Of beginnings. Of ends. Of long extended middles.

Attempting to understand the world. Before the world. Beyond the perimeter of our world.

The tips of the leaves lead me right back to the roots.
Past. Present. Future.
Relative. Time. Science.

How to make the best of a mistake?
How so much turmoil exists in the world when living is amazing. Physically, and scientifically amazing.
And yet some are so self absorbed in bubbles - [Round, iron leaded bubbles] - that they cease to comprehend the outcome of their actions. Infliction of pain. Ignorance.

A blind eye.
Gold plated segments are weighing the world down. Gravity must feel the strain. Surely.

[14] 2010

2010-01-08T20:34:00.003Z

Numbers. Countdown to 12am. It's all numbers. 2010 is yet another number. Another day.

So here we stand. Or sit in my instance, contemplating what the year ahead will bring.
I envisage points, points of which are already set in stone yet in between the inconsistently spaced pointers is absolute emptiness. A pure blank canvas. Much like a flat, unbroken carpet of snow just waiting for that first imprint.

I can feel the momentum building.

[13] ...

2009-10-27T00:40:00.003Z

Cold knuckles clenched release dust over dew,
extinguishing the crotchet of watery rotation.
Relive the rise and fall of shifting identity no more.
Now one less drop descends.
one less leaf feeds,
and one less murky puddle forms.
Open palms walk freely, clear of broken stone.

[12] Seeds

2009-08-18T15:45:00.005+01:00

Hello darkness my old friend. I've come to talk to you again...

Just because something is dark, does not necessarily denote a sense of pessimistic turmoil. Echoing silence can be bliss. Contemplation. Room to breathe.

Summer, oh lovely summer. It's been fantastic and it's still rolling. Shortly to depart for a spot of grape picking in the South of France.

Nearing the end of undergraduate education, thoughts are somewhat encompassing the next move. Planning has become somewhat alien to me so nothing is concrete, however emigrating is a high possibility - Where...? who knows. Love the simplicity of France, the culture of Prague, would certainly like to experience living in Cuba. I guess it's irrelevant where I land. The crux of it all is claiming my own pad. I'm craving the independence of arriving in a completely new city, finding my own place, new friends. Adequate distance from family.

Of course there's the income situation. Freelance? Start my own company? Teach? It's all very exciting. My ideal circumstance would be this:
- Move South - birds do it so why not me?!
- Teach in a primary school
- Illustrate children's books part-time
-... with the view to publishing my own illustrated book...
- Find a cosy little flat
- During the summer holiday's travel

I think I'll take this away with me and muse on it a little further...within the sound of silence...

[11] Puzzled

2009-07-21T10:36:00.003+01:00

Perhaps of recent days my focus has been solely for the needs of those around me and I've forgotten, in a sense, to listen to my own voice and adjust accordingly.

Confusion. Confused in the fact that my ideals have shifted significantly. Confused that I don't feel anyone understands or can provide answers, hence the need to jot down thoughts haphazardly like this. Feedback is minimal, however in a way, writing projects it all straight back at myself and challenges the ways in which I deal with it. Surprising more often than not.

So confused. [End]

[10] Fate

2009-07-19T23:08:00.002+01:00

I suppose everything happens for a reason. I don't believe in fate, however I do believe that there is a purposeful action behind every movement. To wake us up. Inspire greatness. Find strength in places unknown.

Yes. Consequences are there to provide new insight. Challenge current ways of life, of living.

Rambles. Lots of vented rambles.
My thought box isn't too grande at expressing the non-cryptic; It seeks the mysterious, perplexing channels.

[9] Preservation

2009-07-08T16:04:00.005+01:00

Preserve.
Is that not what sentimentality endorses – preservation?

The many black and white framed stills of movie clips I hang in precariously selected white space of wall, all for sentimental reasoning; to be reminded of what was.
To celebrate the unique quality of that specific point in time.

Everything. Anything. All that exists in the past exists in memory and what a precious facility to have that is.
Backlogged family events, past love - so distant, comfortably numb.

"There is no pain you are receding, A distant ships smoke on the horizon"

Yes I did just reference Pink Flloyd.
It seemed fitting.

Obviously I am no Heroin addict, however with a pun in place liberation is what I am...
...I am the Heroine of my very own story.

[8] Two Parts

2009-06-26T22:44:00.007+01:00

Currently living in London.
Initially, as I walked around clutching my London A-Z staring wide-eyed at surroundings, I found it a little daunting - It is after all only my fourth time in London.
Perhaps I didn't fully appreciate it back in January - it was cold - but this time, there's something quite satisfying about finishing a 9 hour day and crashing out in the park with dinner, a drink and a good book.

OK so walking back to an empty apartment isn't ideal. Thankfully I have old & new friends to amplify conversation and good times throughout the void.
Building new memories to replace the old, tarnished ones. That is the aim...
Maybe the focus should not be on substitution, merely addition. After all, I like the past, I like what was. What precedes is integral to the present and future after all!

I find it fascinating - I'd go as far as to say that I find it quite romantic; In love with the ghost of the past. Perchance it is my own ghost from the past treading eroded paths in search of familiarity and that overwhelming youthful mass of warmth - not so much the figure typing reflectively here in haste.
I find it sad, not a sadness for me, but for the little girl who lost her little boy. I feel her sadness, wandering aimlessly throughout passages of time in search of all he was.

I hope they find one another one day, I think they will... long after both myself and himself have left this world...

As for me, well looking forward to returning home and making the most of the summer to come. The summer of '09 is going to be immense!

[7] Extra! Extra!

2009-06-18T11:46:00.010+01:00

Bizarrely enough, I wrote this on Monday and completely forgot to publish it.

Last week my thoughts revolved around the outcome of the EU election, a little outraged to say the least - more so with the media who focussed heavily on the channel which would inevitably shift more paper.
When are people going to realise that the BNP support has not suddenly increased? On the contrary, in some regions it actually decreased! - gees, the issue is lack of votes, lack of belief in the workers party - Labour.
It really is a sorry state when you put your way of living in the hands of either a fascist representative, a prime minister who is reinstating privatization/conservative ideals or the Tory twit; "You take the dog for a walk at night and the policeman comes up and says 'Veer are yur papeers?'" - Shocking!

Patterns of thought have somewhat shifted this week.
I have been spending frequent amounts of time with the most loveliest and gentlest guy I have ever come across. As I may have already mentioned, he hasn't long since parted ways with his previous girlfriend.

-- Was inclined to say 'ex' then but I do hate that. Sounds like an 'ex convict'!! --

Early optimistic days. I find it extremely difficult to plan beyond a mere few weeks hence the detraction from a full blown love-fest edition!
Have to be honest though, I'm so used to being single now that the concept of a double-act is a little daunting.

[6] Political Frenzy

2009-06-10T10:30:00.006+01:00

Horrific political decline this week with the BNP securing two European seats.
Obviously a clear indication of the current state of our country's political and social affairs. Understandably the many workers made redundant, trade unionists etc opted to abandon their vote completely, a simple and highly effective message to New Labour that enough is enough; The repercussions however of this boycott are visibly dire.

No2EU - Yes to Democracy, the national electoral coalition bringing together trade unionists and a variety of left wing forces has been working terrfically hard to offer an alternate positive outlet for the public to voice their concerns. Unfortunately, media coverage was narrow to say the least.
BUT it doesn't end here, acknowledging and supporting this new political force now and in the future will effectively turn the country around.

The media has been transfixed on the figurehead of New Labour pushing resignation, will he won't he, but what it's failing to recognise is that the corruption behind the party doesn't solely lie on Gordon Brown, it's the policy itself and until the policy alters and in a sense connects with its own past, the majority of the natural supporters will be no where to be seen.

The sad reality is that the failure of social democracy to inspire, lead and protect has created cynicism and disillusion boosting racism and fascism. Although the 'Stop The BNP' campaigns were effective across the UK in particular London and the Midlands, we shouldn't even have to be campaigning against such an abhorrent and racist organisation, the political alternatives ought to be obvious and accessible.

[5] Procrastination

2009-05-31T19:05:00.003+01:00

True to form, I'm avoiding the task at hand; which in this case is the tremendous amount of cramming needed for a 9am exam tomorrow morning.

As I'm approaching the end of my university time, I'm having to really focus on the next step as far as my career stands. It's imminent that teaching is on the cards, more a matter of where and how.
As much as I love Yorkshire, I need to move away and ground myself elsewhere - I say 'need', it is a necessity. Leeds has become somewhat claustrophobic so I intend to travel south, like a bird for winter, unsure where as of yet that will depend entirely on courses available.

This time next year a PGCE will await me along with a new city, new flat, new surroundings - I cannot wait! Feels like a weight has been lifted just thinking about it.

Lecturers and friends have voiced the opinion that it's a waste of talent to disregard a career in the design sector of the world, I couldn't disagree more. I can continue freelancing in my spare time and what's more, teaching is a fantastic career. I do have a vast passion for design, keeping it to myself is a waste, sharing it would be completely worthwhile.
No. I know it. I've worked the hours of a competitive design firm and it's not the life for me, for sure.

I hope this next year moves swiftly. I really do.

[4] Role Reversal

2009-05-27T22:49:00.006+01:00

Wonderful. He's wonderful. Yet true to form it's far from simple.

I find myself staring irony right in the face. Hysterically, ironic. I actually find myself sat here laughing at the whole scenario.

The crux; only just split up with his long term girlfriend. I am completely enchanted by his presence and find it ridiculously difficult to restrain sending a quick text, or throwing a flirtatious advance his way when in his company.

It's interesting how these things creep up so quickly. After agonising for months over matters of the heart, I let go and BANG.

Having just read the above back to myself, I have an almost disappointing knot in my stomach. Every few months I meet a guy. Inevitably it never lasts as I find some imperfection in the relationship. This could be one of those tiring moments.
This is what the pessimistic me would voice.
The optimistic me is saying roll with it and loosen a brick or two in that horrifically thick wall you've built yourself.

To reiterate [3]; I don't NEED a relationship, I'd just LIKE one.

Time will tell.

[3] Content

2009-05-18T13:20:00.003+01:00

Content. If you were to ask me my state of well-being, that would be my response.

I've had it completely twisted all these years. I depended solely on the idea that my happiness existed in the hands of another. In actual fact, my happiness depended on finding peace within myself and accepting who I am.
Turns out I'm not that bad!

I still like to believe that when I'm in the right relationship that individual will further strengthen my character and general way of living. It's not so much a case of filling a void anymore, more accumulating something promising. 'Something'.

It's all rather exciting. The knowing of not knowing.

[2] Select

2009-04-06T23:01:00.003+01:00

In retrospect, writing in a journal, blog, space (whatever you wish to refer to it as) is a positive device. Releases repressed thoughts, allows growth. I somehow feel the need to defend my space...my shallow side leads me to believe that most view it as a childish, teen tool - hence defense.

There's a lot on my mind at the moment. It's difficult to select a starting point.

Guys. Friends. Family. Career. University. Health. Politics. Religion. Past. Future. Present. Hobbies.

Briefly in that order;
Questions. Motives. Claustrophobia. Decisions. Annoyance. Well-being. Contribute. Learn. Forget. Daunting. Circles. Relocate.

[1] Birthday

2009-04-01T00:45:00.001+01:00

Momentous reflection.
Why else would I reinvent this space...?

Birthday. Today. Many thanks, your best wishes are gratefully received. I made it to 23. Drinks all round!

I was worrying about the future. I've lay in bed lately staring at the origami bird which hangs from the hook above my bed and thought of nothing but endings and points that once reached cease to exist. But tonight, I lay here staring at the origami bird which soars above my bed and thought of nothing but beginnings.

Feels good to write. Sentimentally inviting to prolong the visit.