Kidding, kind of. Do you ever think about how when you were a little kid literally everything brought you joy? Sycamore seeds, dandelions, conkers- the simplest of things. I remember … Continue reading Society murdered my childhood.
TRIGGER WARNING. TRIGGER WARNING. TRIGGER WARNING. ANXIETY. DETAILED DESCRIPTION OF A PANIC ATTACK. TRIGGER WARNING. It is unstoppable. It is terrifying, it is uncontrollable. I can’t see … Continue reading When the anxiety kicks in.
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.
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:
- Cats- specifically mine
- Clothes- specifically dark skinny jeans, doc martens, checked shirts, short skirts, long socks, harry potter/band t shirts, baggy jumpers.
- Books- specifically fiction, YA novels, poetry anthologies, a few classics.
- Coffee- specifically all kinds of coffee.
- 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
Make a leaf pile, jump in it. Be a common white girl and have a Pumpkin Spice Latte. Have a movie marathon with friends involving lots of blankets, … Continue reading The October Bucket List
I write in my room, on my bed, usually with a mug of coffee in my hands and a cat on my lap. I call this heaven.
They say home is where your heart is set in stone
Is where you go when you’re alone
Is where you go to rest your bones
It’s not just where you lay your head
It’s not just where you make your bed
As long as we’re together, does it matter where we go?
~ Gabrielle Aplin
To me, home is somewhere I feel safe and happy. I dont have the easiest home life, my brother has a lot of issues, my sister gets very sad sometimes and my mum is not very well a lot of the time. But there is nowhere else I’d rather be than with them.
Some days all I want is to get out of the house, I want to run and never look back. Some days I wish I lived somewhere else, away from the chaos and stress. But then I remember that without the often chaotic atmosphere, it wouldn’t be home. I wouldn’t feel safe, and loved. and at ease, because home is where my family are.
Home is where my cat waits at the bottom of the stairs for me when I come in. It’s where my soft, blue fairy lights are. It’s where I sing songs with my sister at the top of my lungs, dance around the house in my underwear just because I can. It’s where my brother tells terrible jokes that you can’t help but laugh at. It’s where I can go and lay in my bed with a book and a coffee at the end a bad day. Home is where I want to be.
Maybe it’s the introvert in me, but the majority of the time home is where I wish I could stay. I love going out with my friends and I love doing exciting things, I enjoy going for walks and being out of the house. This is because a lot of the time I can feel claustrophobic in my house given some of the less than perfect circumstances. But I know that none of that means anything when I have my family with me, because we have the most fun ever. My mum, although a lot of people don’t know it, is one of the funniest people I have ever met, my sister is the kindest, most considerate sister in the world, and my brother is the quickest, wittiest 8 year old in existence. They’re all perfect in their own ways despite their flaws and they are where my home is.
Let me know what makes a real home for you in the comments!
Love Jodie x