Update

This is long overdue. I guess this is kind of an update considering I haven’t posted in a while (despite my promise). So I am going to write about myself, if you don’t care (I don’t blame you).

To be honest not much has happened however I did receive my a-level grades. (if there are any non Brits reading this a levels are the exams that 16-18 take). I got BBBC, the C was in English Literature which was a major disappointment. I’m also sad because I dropped it today.it was my favourite subject, I would actually look forward to it but my future in writing doesn’t look bright. I’m happy writing here, if anyone actually reads this. As of now I’m that boring bastard that took science and maths based subjects.

Its not all a let down though because at the beginning of the year one of my teachers told me I would be lucky to get a D in her subject and remained a bitch to me but perseverance paid off and I got a B (which isn’t amazing but hey, its not a D). She also congratulated me (probably because I got higher than her favourite student) which I responded by saying that I exceeded her expectations of me. Which actually felt quite good. All I can say is never let anyone label you especially if that label is not good enough. Prove those bastards wrong, because pranks and talk that’s not proving them wrong. In the words of Gerard Way “real revenge is making something of yourself”. Which I intend to do. To be quite honest my difficulty isn’t proving other people, it’s proving it to myself.

What else? I’ve been working (yes an actual job).

Still watching too many YouTube videos.

Currently I’m writing this whilst listening to my chemical romance.

So that was my disgrace of a summer.

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Damaged

“We accept the love we think we deserve.”
― Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

I loved him, loved him more than I could’ve imagined.
This was the very reason why I had to let him go. I loved him too much to allow him to get dragged down with a person like me. I prevented him from the perfect life- he had a perfect home, perfect friends, a perfect life if it weren’t for his girlfriend.

It’s possible that he would be upset for a short time but it is for the best- just keep telling yourself that, it might make this remotely bearable.

I didn’t realise I was crying until I saw the tears drop down on the note I was writing.
Not so much a note as a line.
We accept the love we think we deserve.

I had to tell him- in person, there was no point in putting it off any longer.
Every time I took a turn, I pass a place with a reminder of him. The corner where he first asked me out, I looked into his eyes and saw a story. Outside the shop where we had our first kiss, he brushed my hair out of my face and kissed me- my first real kiss.
The park bench. The place where he said he loved me, and hugged me. That’s where we stood a while and we didn’t need words.

Now this was it. I just had to remind myself that I wasn’t good enough for him.

I sat on the park bench as he approached me. “What’s wrong?” he asked with general concern. Fuck. He knew me too well. I looked away from the ground up into his sad eyes. I wasn’t gonna cry again. “I love you, you have to know that.” He smiled weakly and choked out, “I know and I love you.”
I don’t think it’s gonna work out
It’s not you it’s me
Every break up line I could think of but there wasn’t one that was right- only one thing to do, be honest.
“You have a perfect life with a perfect home and perfect friends. I know you love me but I don’t think I deserve you. I mean I’m damaged goods, right? That’s what your friends call people like me. It’s better I don’t drag you down with me.” It all came out like one hot mess. I wanted to fight for him, with him. Instead I chose the cowards way out- just as I was about to run, he grabbed my arm. I pull me close, he pulled my waist close to him and he looked at me with such despair. I have seen this very look before, it was the same one he had when he asked me out, it was sadness. A look someone his age shouldn’t have mastered. But there it was and it’s too bad I wouldn’t be there to know the reason behind it. I knew him and I knew he wouldn’t let me go without a fight.

“Look, before you go, you have to know something. Here come round mine, I have to show you something.”
I thought about it, he never did invite me around before. I just couldn’t. It would make it even harder- for both of us.

That was two weeks ago. Now I stand in the place I said I wouldn’t.
I stood in his room.
It was nothing like I thought it was. I imagined a boys room- posters, clothes everywhere, desk covered with papers. In reality, it was nothing like that. The moment I walked in I could feel the coldness, I felt it to my very soul.
It reminded me of a prison cell rather than anything else. Dark walls, inhumanly neat- the few things in their had a place. Just the bare essentials.
His bed, that’s what he had wanted me to see. Not to sleep with me, no, it was more than that. It was sinister- it was the truth I never got to know. Over his bed there were engravings on the wall in fact, I was more like chicken scratches.
Every word showed how wrong I was about him. He was far from having the perfect life.

Divorce.
As it turns out his parents fought constantly, divorce would have been better rather than him seeing his mum -I quote- “getting treated like shit and beaten”.

Friends. Alone.
His friends, well, I knew they were dicks but not towards him. He has never felt so alone until he met-

Her.
And I turned out to be the worst one. He had his own problems and not once did I ask. I’d assumed his life was perfect but it was far from it.
One of the worst things is that he believed he didn’t deserve me.

Now every reminder, tainted with the dark truth. The look in his eyes where he asked me out- that was more than a story, that foreshadowed a tragedy.
Our first kiss he brushed me hair away, I could remember the pale bruises on his arms. The thought of not knowing how they got there would be the worst thing of all. The thoughts going through my head that was enough to make a person break down. It was enough to make me break down. The strangest thing was I didn’t cry, I didn’t scream, I didn’t even move.
I stood there like a statue, a statue cracking and falling apart. I swear that in that moment I felt something inside of break.
One thought continually preoccupied my mind, it’s the time where we just stood there in an embrace, where for once in my life words weren’t need and completely useless. I ignored those silent sobs, I heard in my ear.

The last words were what would haunt me forever.
The cruel bitter irony cut through me like a knife.
I wished someone ripped my heart out right then.

We accept the love we think we deserve.

Her.

She walked past me. She tried not to but she looked up at me and smiled. A small smile but nevertheless it was a smile.
Her dark, almost black, hair- not messy just not perfect. Her big brown eyes looking away and distant. Her light skin, yeah, she definitely wasn’t perfect. She wasn’t pretty, I wouldn’t say she was ugly but some people called her that anyway.

I would probably like her back if she weren’t such a loser. Despite this I couldn’t help but wonder. We used to be friends, close friends and at one point I couldn’t imagine not being friends with her.
What happened? Well, I thought that obvious- we grew up, we grew apart. There was one thing I was sure, she loved me. Actually, she had a crush on me and I’m pretty sure she still does. I won’t ever get with her but it’s nice to be admired.

I don’t even talk to her. I still talk to her brother from now and then. She’s just an old distant friend, and if you ever ask me I’ll deny this but there was a small chance I liked her.

Now here she stood. Infront of me, just me and her. Nothing to lose, so much to say. But she was a loser.
I don’t know why I called out her name but I did. No one saw us when I asked her in my house. We stood in silence for a while, she was waiting for an explanation to why I shouted out her name.
“Remember how close we used to be?” Thank goodness she spoke first.
“Mm hm,” was all I could reply.
“Fine, don’t talk to me but I’m leaving. Next time you call me I’m ignoring you”. Just as she turned around I said, “yes, I remember we were really close, all of us.”
“I kind of miss it”, she admitted.
I couldn’t lie, not now, not to her. “I actually miss it too.”
“I wanna ask what happened but I think that we both know. It was a long time ago. We can’t live in the past, right.”
“I used to wonder what happened. Like right now we don’t know each other at all now. Not even say hi, I don’t even know what you’re studying,” I said, sincerely.
“Yep. That’s what it’s like now. I’ve kind of got to admit this.” She took a breathe. “I had a crush on you when we were younger. You were my first crush.” That was 8 years ago.
I came closer to her, so close. I could almost kiss her, I wanted to kiss her. I swear this, she also leaned in. At the last second she chuckled and pulled away. “But not now, not even a little bit. You want to know what happened we could have always been friends. You just had to say hi, one day. Everytime I saw you I said hi and asked how you were. Did you ever try to make the smallest effort. Now you walk past me you don’t even acknowledge me, let alone smile. So don’t think that all of a sudden it’s okay and then try to kiss me.”
All I could say was, “l didn’t want to kiss you.”- Pathetic.
“Okay, whatever. But if you don’t want to talk to me, don’t try. We aren’t friends and will never be again, I don’t even think we were good friends to begin with. But just forget it and just never say anything to me again. You can blame me, blame us but I didn’t change up until I had to. I know every time you see me in the corridor you think ‘damn I used to be friends with that ugly loser’. Well, fuck you I am a loser and I don’t give a fuck what you think. You changed to be a dick. You’re a dick, not the guy who I used to like.”
She walked out and slammed the door. I was not expecting that.
She was so aggravating. The nerve of her, okay I called her here but she didn’t have to come. I didn’t change, did I? Shit I knew i changed. Did she try to talk to me, yes, she did all the time with her niceties, she even spoke to my family. She was bloody right, I knew I was a dick just not as much as she said. Shit, she was right. She wasn’t just some “ugly loser”, it was her. My friend. And one other thing I realised:

Fuck, I think I love her.

We Are Ugly

Beauty is only skin deep and that’s why people strive for. However, ugly goes down to the bone. So why is this generation so obsessed with being pretty- and they want to be ugly inside.

It doesn’t matter if you’re pretty, ugly, fat or skinny- at the end of the day- according to society there is still something wrong with you.
Despite this we still can try only to be put to the same position because at the end of the day we are still ugly.

So what? Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, right? So either we are all ugly or all beautiful. What does it matter were still humans. I’d like to think everyone’s beautiful. Because in some way- believe it or not- we all are beautiful. There is some redeeming quality in us all.

So you know what, fuck society. Fuck what they tell us. All that really matters is what we think.
And if you still think you’re ugly remember this

“I have an important message to deliver to all the cute people all over the world. If you’re out there and you’re cute, maybe you’re beautiful. I just want to tell you somethin’ — there’s more of us UGLY MOTHERFUCKERS than you are, hey-y, so watch out.”
― Frank Zappa

Brothers

“What strange creatures brothers are!”
— Jane Austen

Let him flaunt his youth,
Whilst he still has it,
Let him smile,
Whilst he still has reason,
Let him fight,
Whilst he still can,
Let him be vain,
Whist he still wants to be.

He may get laughed,
He may upset a few,
But just do it,
Before its too late,
And they just become regrets.

I have a brother and sometimes I really want to punch him however other times he really inspires me and makes me feel glad to have him as my brother.

I was just thinking today when do we ever get a chance to think, “wow I have a pretty good life”.I’ve got a pretty amazing brother and I never want him to change (okay, maybe a little bit).
Honestly, I’m truly thankful for him.

If he is passionate about something he will go out and to it, to an extreme. If he’s not then he’s not going to waste his time. I love his determination and willpower. This truly inspires me.

I may call you names and we will fight, and even if I never really say this to you, well I’m saying it here.

I love you, bro. And I really mean this, don’t ever change, you’re already extraordinary and destined for greatness.

Comment below how many siblings you have and what you love about them. Tell me about the people who make you sentimental, I’ll love to read it ^_^

For Christmas..

I want my uncles ability to laugh it off.
I want my aunts strength.
I want my grandmas bravery.
I want my brothers determination.
I want my dads fearlessness.
I want my mums willpower.

For Christmas or any day I would choose to have these instead of fancy presents. Presents will come and go but qualities like these would never fade.
I could have added so many more people. Everyone of them amazing in their own right. I think these are the kind of people teenagers and kids should look up to.
These people are truly great and I love them so much. I know a lot of people say this but I truly believe I have the greatest family ever.

I don’t know why I feel in such a tacky mood. It’s probably because school holidays are here (and that make me happy).

What do you want for Christmas this year?

Thanks for reading.

I Believed In Unicorns

“Fairy tales are more than true; not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.”
― G.K. Chesterton

I was speaking to my friends and they said that they didn’t believe in myths when they were little. “Scientifically impossible”, they claimed. Apparently they didn’t even believe in Santa Claus nor the tooth fairy. Bullshit. Either they are lying or they had a really boring childhood. One thing I know is that my childhood wouldn’t have been the same without these. I won’t be the same.

Yes, the title is true. I believes in unicorns when I was younger. No, actually I believed in unicorns, fairies, and mermaids. My childhood was the time where I could push boundaries. As a child you can go around and ask for a unicorn and no one would look at you weird. Childhood is like the what ifs of life and gives you a chance to explore this. It’s like a whole different person with a different perspective.

I also believed in dragons, vampires, werewolves and witches. The one thing that it also taught me was they could be defeated. There is a world so much bigger than we know.

It even told me things weren’t what they seemed. Beauty and the Beast is one of my favourite movies because in this the monster isn’t really a monster and the supposedly handsome guy is the real beast. Belle sees this and from that moment on the Beast is no longer considered a beast.

What I’m trying to say is that in life we would face these “monsters” and they won’t even be the problem we think it is. Ultimately we can overcome these obstacles, we may not get the fairy tale but we might be far better off from where we started. I may not believe on fairytales anymore but whose to say they don’t exist. They exist in the imagination of those millions of dreaming kids.

Hoped you enjoyed it. Now if you could choose one mythical creature to exist…

Perfection

“I wanted a perfect ending. Now I’ve learned, the hard way, that some poems don’t rhyme, and some stories don’t have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what’s going to happen next.
Delicious Ambiguity.”
— Gilda Radner

You’re not perfect. Nobody is and nobody ever will be. So stop trying to be this idea of perfect. Believe me, you’re better off being yourself.

And to everyone who thinks they are perfect. Well, GTFO. But seriously, come on, dude. You can be pretty and popular but you may be a bitch. You can be the perfect friend but that doesn’t make you the perfect daughter/ son.

You may wanna change yourself and you really don’t need to. I know I’m not perfect, not even close but I don’t wish to change. I hate my nose but I’m not going to get surgery. I have messy hair but I’m not going to straighten it everyday (mainly because I don’t wanna be bald by the time I’m 30). There are times when change isn’t so bad. Revise more, join a club, help someone.

I think that all anyone can do is be yourself and hope that’s good enough. Perfection is an idealisation by people who want the impossible, the people who want this fake, materialistic world full of fake people to go with this “perfect” world.
On the way to this self discovery a few people will hurt you along the way but at least you know you’re going somewhere. Grow from this, change the world, make a difference, be happy.

Thank you for reading

Nothing Wrong With Dreaming

“I believe in everything until it’s disproved. So I believe in fairies, the myths, dragons. It all exists, even if it’s in your mind. Who’s to say that dreams and nightmares aren’t as real as the here and now?”
— John Lennon

Screw real people. I don’t think I’m a dreamer, I would probably pin myself as a realist. I know real life but I don’t think there’s anything wrong living in your imagination.

Do you want the full hard truth? Well, if you’ve read my previous blogs then you would know that I don’t think of myself as a typical teenage girl. I’m not obsessed with having a boyfriend or sex.
To be honest I haven’t had a proper boyfriend and I have no intention to, yet. I don’t think any guy would want me as a girlfriend.

There is one thing I have in common with these girls though. I want that guy, even though I don’t want a boyfriend now I sure as hell don’t want to be alone all my life. I don’t believe in fairytales but I think everyone should find someone they will be happy with because no one deserves to live alone.

I wrote this because all my friends talk about the perfect guy for each other, who is going to get married first and who they are most likely to end up with.
We do talk about celebrities a lot as well and just like a million other girls out there I love Taylor Lautner. I’m sixteen, there’s nothing wrong with a celebrity crush. To be honest he’s the only reason I watched the twilight movies. Although I enjoyed the last one (but let’s not go to into that).

Now be honest. I won’t ask about what you look for in a guy because this blog was tacky and cliché enough. But who is you celebrity crush?
Everyone has one, some are even embarrassing. I think people love the idea of this so called perfection it blinds us from what they are really like instead we build them up how we want them to be.

Thanks for reading (sorry this blog was kind of amateurish).

Waiting for the Answer

I just sat there. So helpless, so useless. I sat there on the hard blue chairs, surrounded by those spotlessly clean, white walls. I sat there, waiting.

The clock kept ticking and ticking, it’s been an hour. Two hours. Three. Four. I just stopped counting, what exactly was I waiting for? I was trapped by those walls and couldn’t possibly leave. I didn’t want to leave.

I felt like it was just me. Alone.
It wasn’t though, I could hear the machines bleeping, the kids playing, their parents praying. It wasn’t just me. This wasn’t about me anymore, it never was to begin with.

Just a boy who couldn’t love. However boy met girl and they fell in love. It’s like she was waiting for me but now I waited for her. We didn’t get our happy ending yet. I wondered if we ever would.

The way she smiled, I thought while I buried my face buried in my hands. She always seemed so happy but looking back it seemed like I looked through her like everyone else. I was no different.

The night we watched a cheesy movie and we were making fun of it the whole night. She laughed so much and I loved every minute being with her. She was in fact so different.

Then I remembered the afternoon I found her vomiting. She just finished eating. I didn’t realise she how small she had gotten until that moment. That was our biggest argument and our relationship wasn’t the same after that. That doesn’t mean I didn’t love her the same, if anything more. I felt as though she needed me.

The morning I found scars patterned on her arms. She cried, she broke down. They were so deep and she was so fragile. I never would have guessed behind her laughter was screams. Behind her smile was agony.

She promised she would stop but clearly she didn’t. Maybe stopping was a way of saying she would hide it better.
She stopped cutting on obvious places like her arms and instead cut places I didn’t check. I checked every other day and didn’t tell anyone because she promised she would stop and I believed her.

Now I sit here, waiting for answer.
Did I want her to live? She could still harm herself, treat her body badly. She would only be prolonging her pain. In the end it would still catch up with her. Death could’ve been an escape for her. From her life, people- and from me.

However I didn’t want her to die. She could’ve changed. There was nothing to get away from wasn’t the most popular but she had friends, she wasn’t perfect but that didn’t mean people didn’t love her. She could’ve had a happy life, maybe not even with me but with someone. She would’ve had kids. She would have been the mum that is the first to apply for everything, attends all the evenings and meetings. The one that loves with all her heart.

I heard the door open abruptly and took me out of my trail of thought. My head shot up and I got the answer I needed.

This is a subject I feel very passionate about because it affects so many people.
I think it would be interesting to see how everyone else thought it would end. Write the ending 🙂 thanks for reading.