I tried.

Wander through the barren bones,

the empty sockets, the rotting limbs.

Stumble over forgotten memories,

empty promises, stolen dreams.

 

Watch your step as you wade through despair, avoid hopelessness;

it will wait for you there, pounce on you there, wrap it’s arms round you there.

It will drag you downwards, keep you there, trap you there, lose you there.

 

So edge past the brick giants,

their hollow panes,

walk along the desolate lanes.

Dont run, they’ll know.

 

They always know.

 

~ Jodie  x

 

 

The Blighter’s Rock has me inspired, so I thought I would try my hand at poetry.

This is the first poem I have ever written outside of school. It’s not good by any means, but its ok.

I’m not particularly proud of it but I gave it a go- it could be worse.

 

I would love to know what your thoughts are!

Constructive criticism is not only welcome to this post, it is at top of the guest list.

 

Thanks

Love Jodie

THIS!

I started counting trees today

but stopped at eighty four

though I haven’t any proof to show

I’m sure there’s many more

 

I also counted smiles today

and conversely counted frowns

there’s some doubt about my findings

as I counted upside down

via Counting (unfinished) — the blighters rock

In all honesty I am just in love with this poet and his work. This particular poem elicited a shout of the word ‘this’ from me so I concluded it was worth sharing.

 

Lots of Love

Jodie x

A late night existential crisis.

I am someone who strives for originality and craves uniqueness. Drastic as it sounds, I would gladly sacrifice my humanity and morality for the chance to be an individual. A real individual. But by this I don’t mean different to everyone in the ‘hipster’ sense of the word. I don’t want to have to try and be unique, I just want to be it. I mean that I want to be completely and unquestionably myself. Only myself.

Of course I know all the sayings; no one can be you apart from yourself, you are your own person, there is only one of you. Blah blah blah, bullshit. If we are all different then why are there so many people with the same interests as us? Why are there so many universally ‘relatable’ things? Why do I find myself scrolling through hundreds of feeds and timelines and blogs and social media accounts and finding more and more people like me?

There are five things in my life (aside from family, friends and other basic needs) that I would say are important to me:

  1. Cats- specifically mine
  2. Clothes- specifically dark skinny jeans, doc martens, checked shirts, short skirts, long socks, harry potter/band t shirts, baggy jumpers.
  3. Books- specifically fiction, YA novels, poetry anthologies, a few classics.
  4. Coffee- specifically  all kinds of coffee.
  5. Fairy Lights- Specifically blue or white, not yellow.

Now I would think, that given how specific my requirements for each of these things are, I would be one of very few people who would set these things as a top five needs in life.

But I’m not, there are numerous people that I’ve encountered who love all of the things that I do. Which is scary if you ask me, and if I overthink it too much then my brain delves into all sorts of ridiculous conspiracies about the government and media so I won’t go down that route. But essentially, this means that despite my best efforts; I am terrifyingly, painfully and undeniably…ordinary.

Maybe, I’m being melodramatic- correction, I am definitely being melodramatic.

But I am genuinely at a point my life where, although I finally happy with who I am, I don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t know what I want in life, I feel an extreme lack of purpose and I don’t have any long term goals due to my overall cluelessness.

So I’ve been desperately clinging to my sense of individuality. Yet now it seems that even that is nowhere near as prominent as I thought. I know that I like people who are different and I enjoy having the freedom to be who I am with those people.  However, I don’t know how I feel about it when I look closer. When I do that I can see that actually I am quite similar to some of those people. Although a lot of my opinions and values and likes and dislikes may be against the general norm they still fit in with a group of people who feel the same way. It’s almost as if we have group mentality of collective abnormality. We are proud of it, but doesn’t that make me no more unique than any of them?

What if this sense of self that I’ve been feeling lately isn’t really that at all? It’s just been me changing from trying to fit in with one group in order to fit in with another, more accepting group.

I don’t really know what to do with myself anymore. I don’t know what to think either.

I know that I am immensely over thinking now. This entire piece of writing is the product of me lying in bed at 11:30pm and allowing my mind to wander. When I wake up I’ll probably come to some sort of conclusion as to whether or not I change myself or my outlook on life. Heck, I’ll probably laugh at this entire piece of writing because it’s so trivial. But for now I suppose I will continue my existential crisis as I attempt to fall asleep. Because for now, in this moment, it’s important.

Anyway, chances are none of this makes any sense, but if you’ve read this far then congrats, you’ve impressed me!

Until next time,

Love Jodie x

Is It Christmas Yet?

Hello there

Its Erin.

And, wow, we have not blogged in a long time. Honestly, we should be ashamed in ourselves. I’m afraid I’ve had a bit of writers block, which inevitably leads to me just not posting, nor trying. But I have suddenly realised that it is November, which slightly scares me. But, with November, for me anyway, comes the beginning of Christmas. Michael Bublé has emerged from the depths of his cave. Shops have offers of Christmas bargains everywhere, and I, am beginning to feel festive. However, feeling slightly festive in November is a strange occurrence for me, as I am normally counting down the days from September 1st. I don’t know whether it’s a growing up thing, or it might be that I get told off every time a hum of ‘Baby it’s Cold Outside’ is heard by anyone else. That probably has a lot to do with it. But I’m remaining positive and just singing at the top of my voice when I’m by myself, or with friends who understand my love for the Christmas season.

Now, the reason I love Christmas so much is because there’s a real sense of joy and community around the season. People are all wrapped up in coats, scarves, and hats. Cafes have scented candles everywhere. And the whole hustle bustle of shopping gives a comforting effect. I hate crowds, I hate queues. Generally, I’m not keen on shopping. But something about having the people around you thinking about the people they love and care for as they stock up on gifts for them just makes my heart feel warm. I love shopping for other people, and seeing the looks on their faces as they open their presents. For me, it’s absolutely the best part of the season (Along with the music and films). Yes, it can be stressful, but at the end of it all, everybody seems to feel really happy. And I think that’s what makes it all worth it. The sheer joy that seems to coat the world, even just for a day.

Now, I know some of you will be reading this thinking, ‘Oh my goodness, she’s so weird! It’s way too early to be celebrating!’. I promise you, I’m not celebrating just yet, merely looking forward to celebrating. Yes, I’m listening to the music, and being happy about the shop decorations. But I’m not actively seeking Christmas spirit, just letting it come to me.

What are your thoughts on celebrating? Am I way too early to be happy about it? Let me know by commenting down below or tweeting us. Also, I’d love to know anybody’s tips or tricks to get around writers block, as I’m having a right old struggle with it at the moment!

’till next time

Erin xx