Cornwall and my missions.

With all that a great city like London has to offer such as the diversity of culture, the multi-racial communities that are facilitated in areas such as Whitechapel, coupled with the fierce segregation of international inhabitants, you would assume that what this cosmopolitan city has to offer is nothing short of boring and uninspiring. People such as me have relocated to London for the creative opportunities however competitive, the change of experience and life direction and the very excitement of job prospects etc, and the very poignant fact that almost anything can happen. London offers any visitor the ability to conclude toward the very fact that, like every city, it has a wide case of characters and personalities, an atmosphere that can rival any other U.K city, and streets that are famous for good or for bad. I can gaze up at the skyscrapers in Canary wharf like I have done previously, and marvel at the solidified resemblance of an economically power hungry nation. Yes I have been caught aghast of London’s historic landmarks, laughed at its entertainment value, and consumed alcohol until the world seems not so blighted as I once questioned two hours ago, and so much more silly and pompous. Yes I have walked across the Thames Bridge with the wind whipping my face, and the groans of car engines whirring across toward the other side of the city as I seek to understand how gloriously England still remains to be culturally different and somewhat old fashioned still. Yes I have sat amongst budding flowers in Hyde Park and kicked around a football precociously with people I did not know whom I befriended for the sheer fondness of sport in the heights of the summer sun and laughs.

Two weeks ago I sat down in my room and frowned at the floor with tepid tears rolling off my face. I’d lost my job, I felt that I was not directing myself through to any conclusion in any area of my life, and negativity had flourished heavily on my mind. I picked up my credit card and gazed at the faded digits and considered the very notion of escapism: the fact that I had an ability to go anywhere with my passport clenched in one hand and a small rucksack in another. I was on the brink of doing just that very soon when I got a text message from a close friend inviting me to a place her and her family was located in: southern England: Cornwall.

I had about four missions for this trip: Firstly to see if it was entirely possibly to measure the threshold of how stressed I was mindfully, secondly to reunite myself with a friend I had not seen for just over a few months, and thirdly to meet up with the girl who had an impact on my emotions like no other girl (or boy) had in my life and to see how my feelings would succumb, by seeing her again for the first time in half a year. Lastly I wanted to relax, and grip what ‘relaxation’ really felt like again. To a varying degree I wanted to see if I could note the levels of my personal happiness, via a key question: ‘Is London really contributing to my overall comfort, or realistically, is London not really ‘me?’. I know that happiness cannot be measured in quantities, and most of the time we either are not aware or do not really know what happiness really constitutes. I guess a necessary comparison would be to reflect upon our own lives as children, as irresponsibility on a financial and emotional level surely increases levels of comfort and decreases levels of some anxieties and worries. Secondly we could definitely look at how we conduct our lives and make it healthier of course, in many aspects. However still, it’s virtually impossible to totally eradicate lines of discomfort therefore I am able to accept that in adult life stresses and strains will impact upon us, but what I wanted to know was how a completely different place, that was very rural, would evoke my reaction mentally, physically and emotionally.

The trip was several hours long and yes, travelling makes you tired. Sometimes I cannot understand that theory, seeing as you are mostly sitting down or sleeping in the carriage of a train, but for the most part, I am compassionate with the individuals who really groan about the aspect of long distance travelling. The first impression of Southern England, shall we say specifically Falmouth, was one of utmost peace, a soulful designation but not very exciting and definitely not the kind of plate London offered. I was a bit sceptical of my visit for the first long moments until I ventured out and step foot into the soft, sand ridden landscape of Gyllyngvase Beach. It was sincerely picturesque, and had the aura of silenced but passionate creative beings. I could imagine young people wearing casual garments, sitting in close knit circles, smoking small rolls of tobacco mixed with the grinded leaves of cannabis and facilitating their every mental effort toward the ultra natural casting of the waves as they lay underneath the cool, breezing air that stroked their faces. I could imagine that the height of summer offered the young and old a sincere chance to grapple the real notion of the serene landscape that composed a great sense of tranquillity.

‘This isn’t like London. You never have to worry. It’s completely safe, you know, this is Cornwall’ is what my friend said as we strolled relaxingly on the cliff road. Being in London has caused me to become wary in my footprints, and completely vigilant of my immediate surroundings at most times. I must admit I’m a ‘chicken’ as it were, and my bravery lacks quite a bit. The dark scares me at the best of times, even when there is no one around, so it was definitely refreshing to be rejuvenated with the fact that crime in Southern Cornwall was scarce, or so the fact was.

By day two I was starting to enjoy the very fact that nothing seemed crass there: people were unperturbed, ruffled by little worry compared to city living, not to mention the definite notability in the cleanliness of water, less pollution in the air, and the laid back way of life. People did not need to rush around, and did not have the compulsion to brush off others because their line of transport was arriving in two or three minutes. Admittedly London has hardened me up in that aspect too: I never run for a train, but there are times where I have been brash and strode quickly, purposely not taking notice of people who might want to communicate because I have a place to get to. The conception of a rushed, abrupt atmosphere is one of the city’s downfalls unfortunately, which makes London society quite hasty at the best of times.

Nevertheless, I was going to vacate that attitude most definitely, and adaption is something that I have usually managed to accomplish. This was of no difference, and what I liked about this area was the fact that a lot of individual’s agendas were of course perpetual as everyone’s is, but more significantly, the way in which they utilized each day was very much in conjunction with the overall soothing characteristics of a southern English beachside. It seemed to me that if there were worries, it would be taken in a probable laid back stride, rather than shuffling and fretting about things that were smaller than seen.

Imagine a November afternoon, where the wind is frightful and the clouds threaten the overcast, so much so that you’d rather stay in with a film and a calming mug of warm hot chocolate. That was not quite the case in our situation. I’d met Dee* the day before for the first time in six months, and it was safe to say that I’d been anxious to see her as the last time of her departure, my feelings were in turbulence and my attraction was sincerely far from emancipated. Bounding down the stairs in an attempt to be confident and unnerved, I saw her and remembered exactly how she was and the connection we had etched. The hug was warm, and the communication from then on was effortless. The ability to make conversations progressive needed no exertion. As for my feelings, well Dee was and is still an open minded person: the very thing I adore about her. Because of this, a small varying amount of romantic feelings were still lingering, however the density and disruptive capability of them were not. Still, I would have felt some sort of physical reaction if we’d kissed, but I knew from the way that we were, that kissing her or trying to in any way was not a logically adequate move, plus she considered herself very much into men: the biggest factor of course.

Saturday Dee suggested that we should swim in the salty seas of Falmouth. I gazed at her in slight disbelief, and I pointed out bluntly that the weather was not so great and it was probably going to be absolutely freezing. She declined my notion and remained exuberant about it, enough so that I half reluctantly agreed, and eventually grew high spirited about this whole crazy charade! Casting our clothes on the eroded rocks that were glued into the sand, we made our way cautiously toward to edge of the lapping waves that half-heartedly sprayed the rocks. It was as if they were conjuring us to come in, using the tide as a way of clever manipulation. Dee firstly tried the temperature and shielded her feet away when she realised how cold the water was. I laughed, seeing as she was the one who’d confined both of us to this interesting activity on a bitter November afternoon. After the initial shock of the water, and my body reacting as if my stomach was going to almost throw the entire contents of that day’s food onto the horizon, I made the innate effort to swim very similarly to how a dog would: rapidly pushing the water around my body and frantically moving my limbs as if I were trying to fight the law of gravity. After about five minutes I’d seemed to adapt to the almost icy capacity of the water, while Dee, after a short while resigned from the water and remained on the rocks, taking a few delighted pictures. The funniest aspect of this amusing endeavour was the point where we’d finished assimilating our time in the ocean, (being watched by about five rather humorously outraged elder individuals) and was grasping our cardboard cups of tea with increasing difficulty. The wetness of my clothes, coupled with the beginnings of a rainy spell, and the strong current of air was causing us both to be juddering our hot drinks that mostly spilt over the ground below. With no offense intended and no puns made, I felt as if I was an old aged pensioner who had unfortunately lost the will to grasp effectively anymore.

The meeting with Dee that weekend lasted one evening and one day. As I said goodbye to her with an agreeable hug and no seeming awkwardness between us, I felt the slight trickle of those feelings of ‘Man, I miss her so much’ from six months ago. Her spontaneous and artistic nature appealed and gripped me, and will probably continue to do so. It’s been twenty two years and I am not afraid to say that she is the only person who has had that impact on me as a whole, whom I’ve connected with so very well in regards to similar outlook, endeavour and discussions of light philosophy. I realise that I aspire to meet someone who is very much like her, but where one implication is more correct and ideal. As I walked up the road overlooking the cliff, a lyric of an old Australian song rang through my ears from my Ipod: ‘There was a time when I would go walking backwards round the world if you said your mine’. With my bag tipping my shoulder up, the heavy rain hitting my face and seeping quickly through my clothes, the slight sadness of saying goodbye dawned on me with no reluctance. However much I knew my feelings were in plight ever so slightly at that moment, I filled my thoughts with a smile and grasped onto the very fact that I knew circumstances were not right, but I’d made a good friend and a worthwhile companion to reach to if ever in need or not. However much she is the romantic ideal for me, I know in my heart of hearts that she is not the one for me. I made sure I ingrained that very notion in my mind, while I made steps towards beating the rains.

Seeing my friend that night was equally as good and the reaction we placed upon each other was rather hilarious. She’d wanted me to come earlier as she had difficulty withstanding her family talk about men and the X factor. I felt like I’d entered a comedy club given the way she was describing how seemingly suppressed she felt, especially regarding the fact that she is gay and had no outlet in the form of discussion. I arrived at the estate and waved a farewell to another very interactive and communicative person (I was starting to really like this Cornish attitude that seemed to be embedded positively within everyone) who happened to be the taxi driver. Fifty yards from spotting each other we were laughing our hearts out at the very fact that the last time we reconciled like this was at work and now we were in the middle of nowhere, with the main topic of conversation being a dog-wash that was spotted in the small town of ‘Penze an Beeble’. The dog wash seemed to be the fire of discussion: ‘Oh my god, there’s actually a dog wash here babe. A real dog wash, I can’t believe it! People have nothing to do here, so they make a business by doing a dog wash. It’s like a little shower; I think it’s a joke! Seriously, who would do that!?’ she concluded many more times than once. The story was not magnified: it was true and it was worth chuckling at. I, myself had never heard of a mobile dog wash before. I’d assumed that people used their baths for the dogs, but here we were discussing the very imaginary but real concept of something never heard of. Apart from this I’d engrossed myself in reading the biography of President Elect Barack Obama which turned out to be one of great interest. I divulged in it largely, because ever since he won the President Elections, he’d instilled a degree of great iconic respect from me. The biography is proving to show evidence of the fact that he is as level-headed, rational and clarified as his speeches make out to be.

Arriving back at London Paddington this evening, I didn’t know how to feel. I’d had a relaxing whole day with my friend, and enjoyed the atmosphere and the surroundings of Falmouth much so, that I lightly citied an idea to book one more night there by myself, just so I could open my curtains to the gleaming horizon. I walked through the station barriers and immediately felt a rush of difference. Of course firstly, this was London again so the rush and fervour of people were everywhere, and secondly it was the time where people had finished work and was crowding the underground gates, hoarding the floors and seemingly snatching every ounce of free space there was.

Out of the four missions I went to accomplish, all were sustained well, except my question of my future. I know I want to go to university next year for absolute, one hundred percent certain. Dee had a point in what she said on Saturday: ‘I like it here because of the sea and also this will probably be the only chance I have to live here. If I want to pursue writing, I’ll probably have to go back into the city. I mean, there isn’t really much opportunity here’. She has a valid point. Creatively, the city is the best place, but to conform and hone my ability to study and my motivations, I do believe that a University situated in a place such as Cornwall would do me well for three years. This of course, is going to be utilized and I do not think that I would go to Cornwall; however if I can find a University near a beachside, I can’t help but think that it may do my mind many wondrous favours.

The notion of thought.

It's been a while since I updated this blog with my thoughts so here are the updates:

Direction taking it's toll.
I sometimes develop envy of those who know exactly where they are heading in they're lives. Some people I know tell me that they've wanted to pursue medicine, or art, or mathematics all their life, right from the beginning, and I can't help but be slightly jealous of their confidence that their choices that are solid. I myself have gone through changes that seldom stick: A few months ago I was going to pursue art and illustration. A few months back from that I was seriously considering I.T and animation. Now I feel my forte would be music production and/or music performance, possibly business. It's the thought process that takes over my mind every day. At least once a day I consider this or that, and then I may change my decision based on an easy influence or something somewhat appealing. Needless to say, this way of thinking and problem-solving is not an easy one. Being easily influenced by the goods of a career is difficult, and it comes a point where your just standing in the middle of a flurry of all thoughts binding in as one, with so many crossroad directions it starts to get you confused and annoyed. I don't know how I am going to solve this, be it time, be it sticking to one direction and not straying. Perhaps I need some serious meditation time to myself, or a wallop on the head with a barge pole or the like...

Me, myself and I.
Yes I still have that old-age issue of 'me'. Well what about 'me'? These days I have a more positive opinion of myself. I make myself think more positive because it's valuable and more healthy in the long run to do so. I've even established a 'flower-powery' sense of it all whereby I tell myself I must be grateful for what I have, my abilities, the fact that I can live independently and that I have no medical conditions that stop me from living 'free' , or that I'm not living in a country where suppression takes it's toll to a large effect. Now even though I ingrain this every day, or at least try to, I then start to question how much of what I really think of 'me' am I suppressing and how much is really developing a positive sense of oneself? The same goes for inner happiness: 'How much am I suppressing the fact that I am not happy, and how much am I pretending to be happy as a result of that suppression?'. There will be days where I can smile without feeling awkward and pretentious, and then there are other days where I really find it hard to do just that simple task. On occasions I admit, I have the tendency to sit and start crying for no apparent reason. Luckily that happens less frequently then it did before, which proves to me then, that I am steadily becoming more content in myself and develop more self-confidence.
Yet I can look in a mirror and think 'I'm o.k' but when out with other people the view of me becomes more negative and more self-absorbed. Perhaps it's because of personal identity issues. Not big issues mind you, but smaller ones, primarily to do with the way I showcase myself through dress sense, behavior, and so forth. It's used to be all about 'I'm going to BE GAY!' but now it's becoming more of 'Why do I have to shout it out? If people don't know, they may never know. If they want to know, ask and if they know then not a problem as long as they don't impose discriminatory actions on me in any circumstance'.


Quest for people.
I hope I do not offend any of my friends when I say this, because it is not meant to cause offense in any case.
However wonderful it might be to go out and have fun, drink lots of wine, laugh ourselves stupid, talk about things that don't have much relevance but at the time are the most hilarious topics in discussion, and generally be buzzed on the very likabilities of being out together, lately I have really felt the need to break away. Not on a permanent basis, not at all. I feel the need to withdraw myself a little bit to really focus on my own train of thinking, on what I really intend to do and to follow the reason why I came to London in the first place: for creative opportunities. Being in London, the opportunities for most things are endless, and I am rather disheartened to know that those are flying past me right now. Every opportunity is probably smacking me in face laughing at my lack of efforts in the knowledge that it can offer me more valuable networking and social attributes to get closer to whatever I end up pursuing, career wise. with a busy city like this, I can't imagine anyone stopping within a midst of rushing people, and coming up to me saying 'you know what Nada, I'm going to offer you this. Either take it or leave it, but I'm offering'. Right now, it's very much a case of the shrugging of the shoulders effect, and really, to be honest. I mean, shall I be honest with myself now? This is LONDON! It's fast paced, it moves quicker and it takes everyone with it. Therefore I think I might need to join the bundle of people to get where I need to go. Not because it might be too late, but simply because with a whole bunch of opportunities, there is going to be at least one that helps shapes the direction of where I am going.
Now to do that, it's a 'quest for people'. People are the very inclinations of where I end up going. They are the key to my scope of focus and if that's the case, then it's time I end up meeting likewise people. Time to research. Time to get my foot through some doors, so to speak.

Affirmation of independence, mindfully.
Since moving to London about five months ago, I have developed a lot more stability and independence which I feel is fantastic, given the way I am going right now. London I think, has that effect on people, especially if you seek out to live on the cusp of simply a weeks decision. I'd came here a few weekends, ended up loving visiting the place and decided there and then to move. Eight weeks later I was here living with a friend, knowing no one but the people I work with.
Presently I'm glad to say time has been kind to me, as I have been to time, and I am developing a string of good friends, slowly but surely.
I think London is just so fast paced that your mindset tends to adapt to that. I dislike being hassled on a street because I know I have to get somewhere all the time and as a result of that, I tend not to acknowledge those who ask for say, money or charity fund raisers etc. I never am rude because these people have jobs to do as well, but I have realized that I am generally more solid and have my feet firmly placed on the ground these days. In a sense I like it because I am not allowing myself to be walked over by anyone. With that I'm becoming more thick skinned and more confident in my independence and the beginnings of self-belief are starting to come about. As long as I do not become arrogant, this way of treading each day I feel is healthy, and will enable me to rise to a good position in, well, life generally.

Relationships.
Ah ha. How many times have I talked about this? My relationship count is next to nothing (If I don't include the one with an ex-boyfriend that lasted for all about six months. I don't class that as a relationship simply because I did not feel what I should have, if it were honest). I guess the only reason I'm mentioning this (in a purposely more small paragraph then the aforementioned) is because it does play on my mind, but definitely not so much as I used to. I've been listening to my friends tell stories and voice their problems they are having with their girlfriends/boyfriends. I see the stress in their face as they talk and the concern that they voice, and sometimes I am envious that they have a person in their lives that they can harp on about. But that is just sometimes. Nowadays, luckily, I sit and though the trickle of that sad thought: 'well I have nobody' drips through, the majority of my way of thinking is more healthy. I am starting appreciate very much the pro's of being single. I have no idea what a real relationship entails, but I can very much imagine it's fantastic when it goes an expected way, but torture when not. It's been eight months since I even last kissed a girl and though most people may gasp at that fact, (even I used to at myself!) I no longer find it shocking and becoming more accepting that it's really not the end of the world if I do not have a girlfriend. I wish not to get emotionally hurt at this point in my life where it's crucial that I start to develop focus, therefore I will not get involved with just anyone for the sake of wanting some fun. I've realized also that 'the scene' is so small. Make friends with a lesbian who lives in London and your guaranteed that they will have at least one mutual friend on your list. Not a bad thing I know, but I've seen some situations where things get out of hand because of a certain complication or development that was not so good, and to be in the midst of a bit of a crisis like some I've seen is not worth exerting efforts over. It's the exact reason why I remain quiet, I don't voice opinions about anything unless someone specifically requests any constructive criticisms from me. I go out, I have fun, I go home. In saying this though, it's extremely easy to be placed in the forefront of a development, even when it's not yours to deal with initially. The general vibe however, is friendly enough to spend a night in.


And that's all for now. I could write a host more of my thoughts, but I feel that is to be left for another day. Perhaps the next section will be 'Revenge and why it's not worth it' as I've been philosophizing a lot on the very topic, however that I think needs it's own separate entry!

Until next time.

Wogomama.

Idealogies in the hope of romance.

I've just finished watching one of Hollywood's most cheesiest American chick flick productions: 'A Cinderella Story'. It's one of those films which constitutes jingly music, lightly strung guitared American pop songs, with young actors and lots of blue skies and University shots in it. I don't usually get to watch something so simple and laid back, however I decided to treat myself to a £3 Dvd in Tesco's and what better then to go back to my roots of sitting in front of the Television dreaming of some kind of whirlwhild romance, whilst watching a romantic comedy of the like.

Off course I don't think on that perspective anymore. All these films are rather psychologically blinding, especially to someone who is rather hopeful and likes to live in an idealistic fantasy of some sort. Yeah I used to be that kind of girl. Romance that never ended, kissing that never stopped, flowers, sunshine, perfection, all that bullshit that just simply doesn't exist in this life. If you think it does, then you've watched far too many sparkly, fantastical Bollywood films. Bollywood films I think are clever. I think the reason they are so exceptional is because they make them under the speculation that we as human beings hate drama (drama, drama) so they therefore create some kind of unique spectrum in their storylines, whereby everything is ultra-violet, quite illogical but spectacular, unreal but entertaining, and focal. Gosh, if life were like that psychologists would be out of business!

Listen though because this is rather interesting: An occurance somewhat linked toward the aforementioned (well partially) has happened within me. I believe it came to the point where I simply gave up on all that romantic expectancies. You know all that 'when am I going to meet someone I really like' (My God, that question didn't half run around my head while I was sleeping and awake!). Stupid wish, stupid dream, stupid ideology. Tell me, what is the point in wishing upon something so unpredictable and spontaneous like that when it cannot be fueled? It's certainly not possible to meet 'the one' for you the next day because you wish it to be. To hell with that and what's largely branded as 'wishful thinking'.

'Wishful thinking' is a dangerous one, especially if there are no boundaries or any sort of tangeable perimeter as to what you are wishing for exactly. Literally a month ago only I was wishing to meet someone: I would think deep about what I wanted and hope that in the extreme near future I was going to meet her somewhere unusual. The occurance after that would be somewhat amazing and unique between us. The classic 'swept off of my feet' jargon...

But no. Nothing of the sort has happened.

And now, I don't think about that. I don't even think about 'me' as much anymore. One month ago I was exclaiming at my appearance, pointing out dozens of 'faults'. I was listing down those visual 'mistakes' that were about me. Dumming myself down so to speak.

What a fuck up.

...and seriously, it's one month later and I really don't know how it's occured but my mindset is ever-so rapidly changing into a more optimistic one per se. Yeah I still look at myself and think 'oh shit, look what the cat brought in' but I don't pine about it. It's more of the *Shrug shoulders* type of attitute whereby I learning to appreciate what I have and be grateful that I have got everything I need to survive independently in life.

If I go to a club, I don't want to pick up. Shall I be honest? I don't care. My main priority is to socialise and network, not get so ridiculously drunk I throw up. Also not to get off with the first girl that happens to meet eye contact with me. Most of the time it's a shallow act. I say this, but there may be a few odd times that it happens. Well whatever, but those times won't be planned. I won't seek to do that kind of thing.

And that's how I like it. Those aspects of your life, you can simplify for the better. It takes time, but tweaking the way you think and the way you behave positively towards yourself and others around you...well, it's fucking worth it at the end of the day, even if it does take ages to get there...

the funny going on's of london (Part 1)

I was walking casually around the grand old modern city of London when I just felt inspired to write my own personal review of what this place entails and, by golly, what we can really do here to educate ourselves. (I have included the liberty of incorporating my own personal etchings here and there. Those emotional jolts are to be overruled: please to be focusing on the facts in hand!)


How to board public transport for free.
I don't mean the underground folks. They most probably have secret police and agents everywhere dressed as 'tourists' while we go about our daily lives entering the abyss of the those 3284237 year old trains. I cannot nip over the barriors with my cape and soar down the escalators like Batman returning oh no. I'm not the smooth operator that you may think I am (If you think I am). Instead I'd most probably attempt the jump, invariably catch my leg or arm on something or other (or if not, fall over a small child or a terrior dog of some sort), fall awkwardly, turn and be loomed over by six or six dozen London underground staff. All eyes staring, let's get hauled off to a police station, shall we not!
Ever heard of the 'Bendy buses?'. Me neither until about three weeks ago when I actually witnessed one, thereby associating the name with it's imagery: It's a bus with three compartments, each attached together by some sort of (what I can only describe as a) 'rubbery thing'.
Directions as to how to not pay for bus fare:
1) Board 'bendy bus' at the second or third entrance. (If you board at the front you have to pay. For God sake the bus driver is directly in your face!
2) Act natural. Do not be shifty.
3) Pretend to be grossly involved in looking in your bag or of similar nature.
4) Be distracted. Keep looking in the bag and sit down casually.
5) Cross legs professionally.
6) End.
Yes it is that easy. Remember folks, with inflation rising, the credit crunch...crunching. Petrol prices going up so high (send the oil companies a postcard won't you. Be nice to them, pay for the stamp) we might as well take advantage of anything free we are offered. Even if it is a bit devious. Go ahead, take your cake and eat it!

How to be a tourist guide without trying:
Tottenham Court Road Underground Station. I was casually strolling by today squinting behind the suns ray, catching the atmosphere, soaking in the pollution through my skin. (Oh so healthy and human-like). A sweet little Chinese (or Japanese. How do I tell?!) girl came up to me softly and enquired 'Where is Oxford Circus?'
'Oxford Circus station?' (She nods)
'Oh it's just down this road. Just keep walking all the way down and you'll see it'
She thanks me and trundles off. I did my bit for tourist society again and my, am I proud for answering the question rightly. Indeed I have found that if I stand by Lloyds Tsb bank (by far the bank that really uses unecessary floor space - as in the next seeable 'chair, desk, customer service advisor apparatus' is approximately 7,000 yards away) I seem to undoubtedly attract tourists of all nationalities. Since I starting standing by my particular bus stop, heards of tourists run towards me with maps in their hands and compasses around thier necks. Pleading eyes questioning me, tears welling up in their faces, sweaty hands grasping mine as they desperately tell me how they are trying to locate Wimbledon Centre Court or 'That place that sells all those watches'.
I do feel that it is my spot. It is designated for my attention and I am just drawn to it. My bit for international society is expanding and I thank the forces of fate for offering to me.
'Now let me just get my fucking bus love, awwright.'

Please do not do this at all.
I shan't tell you my whole story. I shan't bore you with the literal details. It's 5am in the morning isn't it guys, and you have nothing else to do right? So you go on Facebook, you notice that I have imported a blog entry and you think ' What the fuck, I'll just read it. Got nothing else better to do with my time'.
I moved to London, so I'm here now. London is just so full of wonder and delight is it not. Ignore the pollution and crowds folks, let us be positive. You can come to London and pursue many things: promoter, taxi driver (yes they get a lot of money..or so), uniformed individual looking important, hobo, graffiti artist, assistant of anything, actor, musician, prostitute with own room overlooking central city in Soho, barworker, limo driver, glass collector in clubs, freelance artist, refuse collector, debt collector, Avon lady, chav, ghetto diva etc etc. You could virtually be something exciting.
So don't do what I have done... What have I done: Charity telephone fundraiser. God must love me right now: I guide confused tourists in Tottenham Court Road voluntarily because I am a nice person and I work for charity on a full time basis. Glamorous? No. No wide floor plans, dial tones make me have withdrawal symptoms, credit crunch causes everyone to exclaim 'sorry lav, I can't GIVE!' or as I had today 'Sorry darl, I just paid a £45,000 gas bill' (Where did she go, day trip to hell? Does she co-own hell with the Devil? Did she sign a tenancy agreement there? Does she live in ovens?'), interesting psychological hierachies in worker's given titles.
I must say the people are fantastic, the air conditioning can be a nuisance (especially if you are the unfortunate fool who happens to sit right underneath it with just a t-shirt and nipple clamps), but as a whole can I simply advise: Treat it as a second job.
I'm treating sleeping as my first. This as my second. I am surviving and as Gloria Gaynor once sang 'I will survive'.
Indeed.

A whole host of *sighs*
I was walking around in London today and one rather tall man got in my way. He seemed to believe I got in his way. Perhaps I did, I mean, who was walking quicker? Who was walking with more ease? What were our objectives to getting to whereever we were to get to? We dodged casually: Left, right, left, right ('What the fuck are you doing man, trying to create a Russian dance with me?! I'm not Russian!), left and then the:
*sigh*
He won the Netball game. We dodged with the invisible ball. He tried to pass, I challenged his attempt. He tried again, I actioned in the same way. He tried again, then psychologically smacked me in the face and moved on forward.
Why *sigh*? This is London.
Don't sigh man: Go to your broker job. Eat your biscuits and tea. Have meetings about when the next meeting should be scheduled. Flirt with that girl, yeah you know the one: the one with the pencil skirt. Her yeah'
Sighing in London means you are destined to live in a shack with one cow...and perhaps a Cockatoo or maybe a few sheep.


Annoying the newspaper promoters
We have 'The London Newspaper' and 'The Lite Newspaper'. The Lite is apparently printed with ink that does not rub onto your hands. These guys are clever because no one wants inked up hands on their way to their meeting in which they hope they get that promotion. (I personally don't give two flying bazooka's about the ink. I just want to read it)
Old Street is a fine example. It's central London and many cool businessmen and women are out for their lunches. You have both newspaper companies right next to each other and there are two guys standing with a pile of newpapers perched on their arms.
I look to the one on the left and he looks back. We squint at each other before he tilts his neck and eyes his rival. Smoothly I direct my eyes to the other. The same action is repeated and I'm sensing the tension between them. I get my knife and yes, I cut it straight down the middle. I coolly run my hands through my hair before sliding both hands into the pockets of my jeans.
The tension builds and the suspense is killing them...
The question begs: 'What newspaper do I choose?'.
Cliffhanger galore...

The British Library:
I have the fortunate luck to be temporarily living in Kings Cross. (No that does not mean I live with the King and his cross, or that the King is cross, or that I am living in some sort of cross shaped house or apartment in which I share with a King). It's a London location for all ye folk who are not so knowledgeable. In King's Cross is 'The British Library'.
The British Library ladies and gentlemen (may I just say) is one of the most famous one in the world. Every English publication across the world is situated in there and it is one of the few libraries in which every publication company is obliged by law to send every new English title to The British Library. It has over a million books and historical so forths. It even has a train track underneath it to transport a whole range of books inside it's vaults every year. It has original trans/manuscripts of books/written recording some from thousands of years back.
It's truly amazing!
and I have not been arsed to visit it.
Please point and call me a giddy, uneducated, disestablished, young whippersnapper who has nothing better to do then to stare at this screen and eat Ben & Jerrys' cookie dough.
My, my do I like that icecream.
I'm a fucking idiot. Go and see that place. Tell me what's it's like in detail. Enlighten me beautifully.

The end is nigh for now.

I love you all like I love staring at hot chicks behind my sunglasses.

As is life..

I don't want to be at home today. I was sent home for work because my hours were apparently not scheduled. That's a mistake in itself because I remember scheduling them.

So today was not the greatest of days. I don't know, I just feel...as if I'm loosing out on something. As if something is perhaps going to go wrong any minute now. Ironically everytime I say a comment like 'life is brilliant right now. It's going really well!' something happens to occur that stunts what I just said. It's the reason why I never say that things are going well anymore, because I just don't know what will happen next.

Today at work I came across such a wonderful gesture of a dignified response to homosexuality: 'I think it's disgusting'. I happened to be sitting directly opposite this individual.

Whether any circumstance be what they are, people should start to watch out what they say in places where other people work. People should realise that where we live and how we live is very diverse. It is a simple fact of life. There are gay/transgender/lesbian/black/white/jewish/chinese etc etc all across the world, in which they exist everywhere. For a singular person to echo a response in classification of discrimation/predjudice is really not acceptable, even if it is in conversation.

I decided that I was not going to do anything about it even though it made me uncomfortable to sit close by to her, therefore moving seats. I don't hate this individual or even dislike that person, but a part of me feels that I want to keep my distance in the knowledge that this person thinks that particular way.

Understandable is it not?

Or perhaps I am being a tad dramatic.

Either way, I wish people would not have this fucking fanatic viewpoint of any kind of person be it whoever they are. What is it to anyone how anyone else conducts their life!? This is what I simply do not understand. I am certainly not flaunting it in anyone's face that I am gay, neither am I forcing myself physically or emotionally onto them, so why is it that there are people out there that feel they should flaunt their discrimatory opinions at other's who live the way they do?

It's certainly not like I walk around and try to generate hate. I never discrimate against a single person because people are who they are despite the colour of their skin, their beliefs, their viewpoints on topics of the world. I do not usher an opinion in the way in which someone lives (unless by exceptional circumstances in how they conduct their lifestyle is morally indistinct) because people are entitled to whatever path they wish to follow.

Is that not how it should be?

Some people have this fucking ridiculous belief that 'gay people choose to become gay'. That angers me. Firstly, if they are not gay, then they have absolutely no idea as to how a person establishes they're sexual identity and I can safely say that I did not choose to 'transform' into what I am. As far as I know, I was brought up and I simply just 'am' who I am. To underline that I tried to convince myself I was fully attracted to the opposite sex for eight years: that did not work. So I am assuming that it is simply not a 'quick decision', but nurtured/natured into a person from the beginning.

I shall not pretend for anyone. My belief stands for myself, and I believe that to be happy you have to accept who you are and how you have become. Ultimate happiness is established within yourself and to be happy you have to be comfortable in your own skin. I'm comforable. More then comfortable in fact: this year will be the first in which I am ten times more happier then I have ever been in my life.

So for all people who claim to be homophobic, I wish that you come to your senses at one point or another and realise that judging who a person is on the basis of a so called 'label' is incredibly narrow minded. Let those people recognise who a person is on the sole realisation of their character and how they conduct themselves morally in society.

I certainly do not hate people who are homophobic. I don't even dislike them because I'd be judging them solely on one belief, when in retrospect other aspects of them could be very nice. At the same time I am extremely opinionated about my beliefs in not judging by 'labels'. Therefore my belief will no doubt clash against someone who is completely on a polar opposite. If not in speech then in thought and even then, it can show in behaviour.

I therefore, feel the need to be simply polite to people but that is as far as it may go. I am completely against discrimination or predjudice in any fashion whatsoever.

People live as they see fit, as is life.

My boob is itchy.

It really is. Occasionally I get the itchy tit. What's worse if both boobs are itchy: I look as if I'm trying to rub my nipples in order to turn myself on. Luckily I'm in the vicinity of my own room which is a relief. If I was in the call centre casually pinching my nipples and scratching my breasts fiercly then either the men will find it somewhat amusing and/or the women who know I'm gay will just think I'm a desperate lesbian who is getting off on herself because she has no one to get off with.

I was so bored at work today I decided to seize a few mints (because I was sure I had bad breath at one point) from the reception area. I started casually sucking on them then had this absolute genious idea to use my most valued professional art pens to do some kind of eccentric design on one of them. I ended up drawing spots on it in brown and then colouring the rest of it dark green. Me being me then decided it would be rather amusing to write on a piece of paper 'Dinasaur egg. £5 to touch. Please do not move' and put it on one of the water coollers (obviously along with the designated mint). The rest of my evening was followed with eyeing people's reactions every time they casually went for a drink. Most people just screwed their face in confusion and walked off. I did indeed still find that rather hilarious in some sordid way or another.
After that I decided it would be quite the turn to wear my sunglasses during call time. The majority of people did the same screwing-face expression as they walked past/saw me from a distance. I was quite happy eating Skittles and talking to people over the phone who 'expressed an interest in Barnardos work after replying to an ad campaign'.

Seriously sometime's I think members of the public are totally nuts. You know, screw loose's everywhere. I mean, 'the lights are on but nobody's home' phrase takes immediate effect when you work in a call centre ladies and gentlemen. Usually you come across the same old drone 'No, she's/he's/it's not here at the moment. Can I take a message?'. You will also come across the wives who are paranoid that they're husbands are cheating on them and that you are in fact that secret lover ('Uh..who is this speaking may I ask?'). Sometimes I have the complete compulsion to reply:

'Oh, I'm your husbands sugarmama. You know, everytime you weren't there, I was. Everytime your bedsheets were messed up, it was me screaming in delight. Everytime your husband was 'at the gym', we were working out together'

You also get the answerphones with children who have recorded the messages. Even worse, the parents AND the children recording the messages. Whenever you hear some kind of answerphone message like that, there is the assumption that Mr & Mrs. Parsons family unit is completely solidified and problem-free when really, behind that 'Mum, Dad and Chllloooeee Parson isn't here now, but leave a message after the beep!', it's more like 'Muuuummmmm, why was Dad in the shower with that weird lady with long blond hair?' or 'Dad, why does Mummy have a big thing that vibrates' or even worse 'Dad, why was Mum in our room with another lady naked'.

All in all, I really do like working where I work. There are many different perks, but the main perk is that you are a front-observer of the general British public. From phone responses I would say that:

60% of people are depressed/pessimistic
10% always have screaming kids in the background somewhereanother 10% would like to burn charity fundraiser callers such as ourselves
5% would rather support the 'National institute for Ants' or something equally as
5% actually have no money and on a debt management scheme/bankrupt
8% are paranoid about who the hell is calling them at this time of day/night
2% are unusually optimistic and HAPPY that you have called them. Those people either need a better way of life or have almost mastered ultimate inner contentment or happiness...or on drugs.

That is all ladies and gentlefolk.

It's been a lovely day.

My invention that is better than any weight loss fad.

I reached out for box of cereals and coolly poured some into my bowl then covered it with some semi-skimmed milk. I knew I wasn't going to enjoy this but alas, I needed to eat anyway. I started scooping up the cereals and ate as much as I could before putting the bowl to one side and sitting back for a few seconds to relax. I'd eaten it quickly because I knew my body needed the vitamin and general healthy intake. Instinctively I knew that I had to stop eating because I felt that my digestive system could not take anymore.

I got up and put the bowl in the sink, what was left of the cereals back up on top of the fridge and the milk in the fridge itself. I stood there pondering whilst looking at my Twix bar lying there on top of the ham. 'Shall I eat that now?' I thought whilst tapping my foot lightly. 'No, what's the point?'. I close the fridge and then open the freezer door underneath, pull out the top drawer and pick out my Ben & Jerry's chocolate chip icecream (My favourite flavour of ice cream may I add). I pose the question again but once again, dismiss it easily with 'no, not now'.

I still down and decide that I'm going to write. Nothing indepth but something that is interesting to think about.

See the reason why I just cannot be bothered with many foods right now like chocolate or crisps or icecream or any junk food for that matter is because I can't taste it. I'm just recovering from a cold in which the majority of it has affected only really my throat and my nose and sinuses. Everything is clogged up and because of that off course I cannot taste or smell a single thing.

See though, this got me thinking. We as human beings like different foods so much not really because of the texture so much but because of the taste off course. We have individual preferences on what we like and what we don't and most of us love junk food in one way or another. I certainly do, especially salty snacks and chocolate. But right now I couldn't give a dam about what I'm eating because I simply cannot taste a single thing! So what's the point in opening my Ben & Jerry's icecream now (which may I add, cost quite a lot for a small tub of icecream) when I cannot have the pleasure of enjoying the taste...

This off course led me to the conclusion of how good it would be if someone could invent something that would wipe out the taste senses temporarily. Perhaps like some kind of pill that a person can take. I know that right now I don't care what I eat because I simply cannot taste anything so nothing is that pleasurable right now. All I know is that I must eat to keep myself alive so imagine if something was invented like a type of drink even, to have that effect on the tastebuds. We'd all be healthy, probably super-healthy, because we wouldn't care what we ate as long as we stayed alive at least!

Maybe I should patent this idea and then meet up with a couple of research scientists!

There you go! The way to getting slim and healthy without the need of fad diets and restrictions!

The 'irony' of it.

I'm at home sitting on my bed cross legged listening to Omarion's 'Icebox' track. I was watching Youtube videos of George Sampson (The young streetdancer who recently won 'Britain's got talent') when I saw a clip of him dancing in a street in somewhere like Manchester with that particular song in the background.

I'm addicted to it now. I love R'N'B. The song is fantastic.

I have a cold. I think I've sneezed almost ten times since I woke up a few hours ago and my throat is tickly as well at the roof of my mouth. The irony of it all is (if it is irony) that I forgot to schedule my hours for this week so I have no choice but to stay home for the week (which is annoying, as I do need the money very desperately now) and at the same time this cold has developed. I guess that is a good thing though. This time out can be the time where I can get over this stupid virus. I'd rather work or study then have a cold. I think anyone would.

You'll be happy to know that I am perfectly fine now, in regards to my emotional state. The girl I liked so much, I have got over. My feelings are generally content now. I don't wake up in the morning yearning for someone being next to me. In fact if I be truelly honest with myself I do prefer it this way. I'm content and I can think clearly now. There's not a single person that I'm constantly thinking of. There is not any particular situation I am concerned off which involves a girl that I like in any way. Off course I do wish for that special someone at times, but at the moment I believe I am o.k.

I have to think about my career. This is one thing that is constantly on my mind all the time. I'm considering going for some kind of I.T internship. I once phoned up for one of those and I was accepted in doing it, but I was living down south at the time and I got asked to go to London for it. Now that I am in London I can possibly consider it. I just need more money and I am not making enough here however I really do like the atmosphere at this job a lot. The people are great and hospitable. There are always new entrants literally every week that I can build friendship's with. It's nice.

We shall see, but I really wish I had a solid plan. It's starting to get to me now. I really want to know what to do. A lot of people are saying 'oh Nada, you are only twenty two years old, your young!'. Understandable, but next year I will be twenty three, then twenty four, then twenty five then before I know it I am thirty five and not got anywhere. I need to get somewhere in life. I want to get somewhere in life where I am proud of my efforts.

Well for now, I shall do some research and then start making solid decisions.

Compatibility and companionship.

If I was straight I would probably be engaged by now. I'd put money on that quite happily. In fact if I had a stockpile of thousands I'd push it all out onto the betting board along with every other material thing I owned.

I've come across many men in my life which has most definitely had that concoction of being naturally handsome and at the same time kind hearted. The man I dated last before I 'came out' was dark and had that mysterious aura about him. He had a good and healthy body as well as a likeable mental attitude and above all harboured fantastic morals. He was a calm person, logical and had a good solid career. He valued a woman for all she was worth and did the best he could to achieve satisfaction for her on so many levels. Alas, I did not feel the same way despite us doing the things that required intimacy.

It was thereafter I decided that it certainly was not fair on him (or any other man for that matter) to live in pretense and confirm their beliefs through a very false affirmation on my behalf.

I've been openly gay for the past year almost: It will be a year in August. At the beginning I was very keen to jump the bandwagon and do the whole experimenting thing. I went to clubs, I kissed girls when I was relatively drunk, I've been with two girls in bed and 'fooled around' as well as dating one or two. Not one single individual satisfied me either on a mental, emotional or physical level. Nothing what-so-ever.

And I was fine with that. It was a time where all these concepts were brand new to me therefore i did not care what it was I was after, as long as I was getting some stimulation based purely on the fact that I was kissing another girl and she was in fact a 'she', not a 'he'.

Flip forward to the present day. I fell for a girl at work. She knew that because I told her. Today I received a heartwarming message from her telling me how she felt about me. No blow to the ego what-so-ever: I found out that she felt a connection but not on a purely romantic level. I smiled at the whole message because for me, the fact that this individual recognised what I said to her, considered it and took the time to write a meaningful response back is a great act of courtesy in itself.

Navigating off that message (after reading it and smiling coyly about three or four times) I almost suddenly felt a jerk in the back of my mind: a though jerked. The dreaded thought that has been like a tornado of thoughts for a week or two now. It's not a thought, it's a question. That question being:

'Will I ever meet someone who feels the same sort of attraction to me as I do for them?'

The thought deepens:

'Will I ever experience the feeling of true love in a unique, soulful way towards a girl in this lifetime?'

In retrospect these are ridiculous questions. Everyone, (including myself if I be completely honest and realistic) will state that 'yes, off course you will. Off course!'.

But for some reason, already I'm finding it hard to keep the faith in everything here. I wake up each morning these days using the pillow as a substitute for a girl I'm yearning to cuddle and greet her with a kiss to when I wake up. I don't at all have a huge sex drive these days. I just know that I am wishing solidly for companionship.

Philosophers would say that loneliness is a state of mind. It's also said everywhere in every logical sense that you should not need a lover to make you happy. Happiness is an occurance inside of you. It is established via your own train of thought and the reaction you have towards the situations you find yourself in. I know, for instance, that this is a very negative take on the whole notion of romance and compatibility. I know very well that there is more than one person out there that would contribute to my overall happiness, but I'm under-estimating time. I'm under-estimating myself. I'm under-estimating the force of human commitment and communication. I am well aware that I am acting out of 'wishful thinking' and I know why that is. That is currently because I met a girl whom I thought was absolutely fantastic and now she is not there anymore. I miss her a lot, and I know in my heart of hearts and she knows in her heart of hearts that the compatiblities between the two of us is not possible because of the over-lapping obstacles that lie around. Those obstacles are entites of nature itself and both our characteristics.

I managed to get close to a girl I liked in a way that I have never got so close before. I guess I miss that, even if it were for just a short space of time. Perhaps I'm reacting in the knowledge of the fact that there is only one person that is exactly like her and that I know I will never be with her in that way.

However...

In this situation I'm not worried because I know very well that every person is different. Every person sports different capabilities, interests, personalities, morals, motivations, characteristics, images and everything else that is involved in making us whole and individualistic.

I just don't want to miss out on that vital part of life. It might not even be vital, but it's certainly something I wish to experience.

Logically thinking I know I should focus on my career, my health, my friends and family and the world around me and my interaction with it.

This is why I'm treading down the spiritual and philosophical path these days. I want to know my true capacilities and abilities. I want to build my self confidence to do performing arts. I want to be more motivated to get out there and meet more people in social events...But as long as my head is filled with the romantic idealisms of love and romance, I will not edge towards these targets.

Therefore from now on I vow to do the things I love doing that steer the opposite direction from the aforementioned topics that clog my mind up so much lately.

First thing's first, my meditation class tomorrow. It's my first one and I'm looking forward to a new activity that will help me achieve a better state of mind.

Attachment.

Well there's a word for you.

What conjures up your thoughts when you hear that? Perhaps a physical resemblance like holding someone's hand. Perhaps an attachment to a brilliant idea that you thought of. Perhaps the link to a technical piece of equipment.

'Human attachment'.

Something we all experience at every waking moment in our lives. We are attached to people, we have to be. We rely on it for the process and distinction of information. We rely on attachment, perhaps for contentment purposes: so that we know there is someone with us in times of any need.

But do we really have to be attached to people all the time? What is the real purpose of attachment and why do we do it obsessively at times?

See I don't even know why I'm really writing this because it's such a broad topic. Philosophers wouldn't bother reading this because what I'm saying probably interlinks so many generalisations that there is no point in breaking anything down of the aforementioned paragraphs and evaluating it. Therefore I'm going to focus on one particular 'type' of attachment that I personally question a lot and seek to unravel within myself.

That's 'love'.

Love off course rains down in many forms. I could be talking about love between lovers, love between friends, love between enemies, love between family, love between hate etc etc.

Jane Austin was a well-known writer and philosopher. She wrote on the lines of twenty- something books focusing on the notion of 'Love' and what it entails. I'm therefore guessing that talking about 'love' in choppy paragraphs here certainly does not establish any answer or kindle any well-rounded conclusions for what I am seeking.

My problem with love and attachment is that I seem to cling on quickly. Whether it's to do with the past or the fact that it's been nurtured in me is a different question. When I know I like a person a lot, I feel a lot for them on many levels be it emotional, mental and physical even. I can stop eating, my thoughts become infested with visions of that person and everything they've shown of themselves. Off course everyone develops that reaction, it's generally human nature when in regards to lust and love. But for me, because I yearn companionship so much, the moment there is a slight clue or hint that it could be offered to me, I jump at the chance head first. I've recently experienced that and I was sorely regretful when the opportunity most probably arose, and I did not take that 'leap of faith' as it's said. It was then I realised how much I yearned something like this to happen to me. I wanted it ridiculously, and yes, I still do. Not with the same person, but for it to just...happen: For me to kiss someone I really have feelings for and to feel the ultimate pleasure of being in that single moment. The divinity of it must be rare and unique when it does happen between two people.

This morning I woke up and I felt a sense of loneliness once again. Mainly because I was learning to disattach myself from someone I ended up being fond of so much, and yes, I am over the worse of it. I still reminisce, but I'm disciplining myself softly to think positive and logically: It is working. I'm letting 'nature take it's course' as they say, but also learning to believe in the fact that people do come and go in your life and these things are inevitable.

You have to let go.

This is what I mean about love and human attachment. This is why I'm considering easy meditation, so that I can calm myself on the inside and out and learn to deal with this in a different angle. A friend of mine said that she does a form of meditation whereby you learn to deal with attachment issues by looking inwardly. I guess it's all about taking an objective approach to these things rather then dealing with it in a difficult manner like I do.

In fact, right now I will do some research and start meditation classes. I believe it will help me move forward in the right direction and calm down a bit.

Is what I feel a need or a necessity. Methinks right now, it's a necessity. There are more important things in life to contend with then harbouring the mind with idealogies of love/lust/affection etc.

Idealism and fantasy can become dangerous.

I shall learn to strike a balance between all this.

In regards to the girl I liked so much, she never got back to me. I wrote her a message explaining exactly how I felt, and what I wanted her to know. She is yet to reply. It's a lost cause but instead of feeling hurt and rejected I'm certainly learning from the experience in a more positive light.

Bad dream.

I woke up at 8.30am this morning on the receipt of a bad dream. The content was to do with ghosts and bad ghost stories. I was due to move into a new place, that was quite cheap. A young guy came to me and described a scary ghost story that he deemed to be true in which it happened to him. His description was very vivid and I was envisioning the entire episode quite well. What happened after this was yet another penis dream. I can't quite tell whether I had it or it was just some kind of weird attachment on me. I cannot quite identify what happened there, but at one point I had one but it was fairly small in comparison to the other penis dream I had.

The dream was a mixture of many different things. I'm starting to remember other attributes actually, like a train that went from London to Littlehampton (A town near to where I used to live). The atmosphere in the dream was quite dim and I remember feeling pretty lost and alone in it. I was wondering around a lot not really knowing where I was going or what I was trying to pursue. I think at one point I went up and down and escalator trying to find direction.

I woke up feeling lonely and a little scared by the content of what I had dreamt. I switched the light on and checked my laptop and various applications like Facebook and Myspace before I placed it on the floor and slept for another few hours.

For some reason that lonely feeling is still inhibited in me from a few hours ago. I'm sitting here in my bed wishing someone was with me.

To be honest I don't know what I'm thinking anymore. All I know is that I want some enlightenment. I want to be able to go through a few months at least with no emotional rollercoasters like I tend to fucking experience most of the time. I'm thinking of taking this ten day meditation course up north of England or just going somewhere where I can relax and not be in the same surroundings that remind me of this and that. I know going away does not solve any problems but seriously, to me, it can. I'm torturing my mind by looking at where I am and reminded myself of this situation and that situation that happened and what good could have occured if I'd acted different.

I really need a holiday. I want to go to America to see my family, but the only slight issue is that they might all know I'm gay by now. My Dad threatened to tell all my immediate family when he found out I was gay.

I haven't said anything about this have I?

I will briefly outline it now then. Last sunday I texted my Dad after he texted me about the fact that I am invited to his birthday celebration. During the course of the texts I ended up telling him that I am gay. His response was 'I am tremendously upset, or otherwise I would not be a normal father who wants his daughters to grow up, get married and have children'. (who says gay couples cannot lead a healthy family life?). Later on he then proceeded to call my Mum and (as usual) shout at her down the phone: 'Did you know my daughter was gay?' and 'I'll fucking kick the shit out of her and her girlfriend if they ever step foot in my house'. All this is just anger talking but I knew he was going to be angry and I expected this reaction through and through. This is why I was not in the slightest surprised. He's one of the most narrow minded individuals I know: He's racist/selfish/tight with his money (No card or birthday present for my birthday)/stubborn and 'always right'. I still love him dearly though. You only have two parents in the world that cannot be replaced. Despite the stupid stuff he imposes and his subjective approaches I still love him as my Dad and always will do.

He texted me after he spoke to my Mum and expressed the fact that he would never accept me being gay but he would have to live with it. He mentioned that he would never want to meet my girlfriend, talk about it and wanted to pretend that this conversation never took place.

He mentioned to my Mum that he would tell my uncle's and aunt's and the family. My Mum tried to reason with him and said that they didn't need to know. His response was 'Off course they need to know, they have a right to know'.

I know my Grandmother knows. She seemed disappointed but was better at accepting it. My Mum told her which annoyed me at first because I specifically told my mum not to tell anyone without my permission. I don't even know what made her tell my Grandmother, but I don't care. I don't care who knows now. It's me, it's who I am and what I've become and it doesn't alter any aspect of my personality, my character and my morals.

I responded to my Dad's text by saying similar as to what I said above. He never responded and I expected that. It'll be a while before I see him again methinks but I don't mind. I've gone a year without seeing him because I had to get away so I think it's plausible to let 'nature take it's course' and allow him to come round to the idea.

Now I am literally going to force myself to get up and do something. This is fucking insane. I'm getting depressed over one thing that did not go right with me, and I'm spiralling into this ridiculous and pathetic way of life, that being sulking and sitting feeling sorry for myself and that fact that I missed out on something good. It's not like I've lost a fucking war, or that I've got a terminal health problem!

Get the fuck up Nada and stop moping about! Seriously...

This is hard.

I decided to go out into London today to walk around. I was spending far too much time just sitting and moping around like I have done the past few days or so. My sleep pattern has got weird. It's like a total reverse now. I sleep in the day and stay awake in the night.

So I ventured out today in the hope that if I am around crowds and masses of people I would feel more intune and buzzed up by the atmosphere. For a while I did, and it was great walking around Leicester Square, Soho then Piccadily for a bit. I bought a comedic film titled 'Throw Momma off the train' which my Mum claims it to be quite hilarious. I need that comedic factor right now.

Everything was great and all good and I was listeining to some funky music but slowly, slowly my mood winded down and on the way home I was finding it difficult to smile and remain laid back and relaxed. I knew that when I would get home, I'd have to contend with four fucking walls, no one to speak to and the internet which I am starting to hate because I'm literally forcing myself into reclusion it seems. Off course it's up to me what I do and what I don't do in this world, and I really did want to venture out clubbing tonight with friends and some good music, but alas, no friends texted me.

So here I am, back on the fucking internet writing in this blog because it's the only thing that allows me to release something and not scream instead. Screaming is not so good, not in an estate like this where the flats are literally packed and blocked like lego next to and on top of each other. I feel sorry for all the permanent residents around here who have to be relatively quiet most of the time. I feel even more sorry for the sex addicts out there who are loud, I mean, they have to consider the neighbours. Perhaps they just stick cotton-wool in their mouths to keep it quiet.

Oh I don't know do I.

But this is hard. Keeping a positive insight on things is not easy. I'm not trying to force myself to smile, I'm just trying to take this all at a better angle.

I might as well watch that film.

Regret.

It's 12.55pm now. I went to bed at 5am after being out in London. I wasn't out late in fact, just until around midnight. I am nocturnal though so I can literally stay up for absolutely ages. The Internet off course, is a voluntary addiction. I have to refrain from staring at the screen for so long.

I'm breathing a sigh of...I don't know. Relief? Anxiety? Annoyance?

I feel subdued slightly but at the same time more calmer than I was yesterday. My worries have laxed a little bit and I feel more at ease. I still know the harsh lesson I have to learn though:

Regret.

Should there be such a thing? If I were an optimistic person perhaps regret would not appear in my dictionary because I wouldn't know how it felt. Do optimistic people feel regret once in a while though? I believe that regret is something you place upon yourself. It's not an emotion really, it's simply an action that sparks off those negative feelings. I think everyone imposes these kinds of things unecessarily at some point in their life. Some people pass over a good chance for a brilliant job, or a particular romance in their life that they let go of when deep down they knew it might not have been the right thing to do. Perhaps some people take a wrong direction in life and end up going through more hardship then they could have avoided.

I believe people who regret (like myself) learn their lessons in a harsher manner, all because of the way they dealt with things. I must admit I do not deal with situations kindly when I know that if I could turn back time, one move different could have altered my entire course of action for the better. However, you can not always tell whether what you do different will guide you down a clearer route. Life has a funny way of throwing spontaneous obstacles down your way, and usually off course, when you least expect it.

I know I'm a pessimist. I grew up with people who did not know how to implement a good psychological bringing up for me. Instead of reasoning and being objective, it was fulfilled with stupid arguments and disregards for people's feelings. But that is no reason for me to remain the way I am today. Everyone is in control of what they do and what action they take (Unless there is a medical disorder etc). Therefore I am in control of how I think, the ways in which I deal with situations and how I undertake my actions.

Why is it that people can spiral down into negativity when something not so good occurs, even though we all know that being positive conjures better feelings and thoughts and in the long term, it's much more healthier? I can only guess that the reason we dig ourselves down into that gaping hole is because our minds are already contending that way. Perhaps it's easier to keep in that state rather than making the effort to slide all the way up the other end of the scale to that positive light.

I think optimistic people are iconic. They are iconic to me because they can let go and problem solve to their advantage so well. They can accept the fact that situations occur for a reason and sometimes that situation may happen not to a persons liking but alas, it happens. You can tell very well who is optimistic because these people emit that glow, that free-spirited soulful energy. You can even see it through their smile and you know it's geniune. You know they are not smiling because they force themselves to. They smile because the world smiles with them, and they have that inner happiness and contentment that so many others have not achieved.

I know my issues and where they lye. I pretty much know where the problems are rooted and I also know that out of common sense and clarity of thought, I can pull myself out of that pessimistic mode and train myself to deal with life in more manageable and stress-free manner. After all, like I've always believed, everything you do is a state of mind and the decisions you make are more or less in your control.

I feel regret now and anxious still. I still cannot eat. This is the fourth day where I have eaten the very minimal. The reason I write in here so much lately is because I can transcribe my thoughts into tangeable and readable words, therefore I can analyse my way of thinking and nit-pick the bad habits I have got myself into. I could say so much more because what I'm basing all this on is a lot of philosophy and philosophy can be so detailed, it could go on forever. Well it practically does really: You establish an answer to a question you ask, and then to obtain the answer to that answer, you have to ask a question again. You just keep asking questions until you exhaust as many routes as possible.

I like philosophy. I would never study it, but I like to learn from it in a basic sort of manner. It helps you learn about yourself and not be ignorant about the aspects of who you are and how you can reach your full potential, in terms of general well-being. The ones who know where they stand with themselves and have realised their potential early on, are the ones who maintain the healthiest and favoured way of life.

I'd like to reach that target before I'm thirty. Off course to train your mind to think differently after years of operating the same way, it's not easy. Even though I might have written a whole blog on this, I know I will go and maintain the same state of mind as I had not so long ago, but at least I'm recognising what is not right and what I have to do to correct it.

Most people go through life not even considering that.

First thing is first I have to learn that regret is an option. I can choose to regret what happened not so long ago, or I can accept it and know that there are many other people in the world who I will meet, who will contribute to my overall happiness. In terms of romance, I must learn to not get so hung up over my expectations of something happening. I also try and predict the future too much. I keep saying to myself that it will be years that I will meet another girl who is remotely compatible with myself. Once again, this is negative thinking. Instead of this I should say perhaps:

'I met a nice girl who I liked a lot. She made me realise some aspects of myself that I did not know, like having issues with showing how I feel and exposing my softer side. Now I know that I have to work on it for the future. I also consider myself lucky that I met someone who liked me for who I am, and that I had that honour of meeting someone special. Some people never allow themselves to enjoy the moment like I did, despite my expectations not being fulfilled'

Everything is in my control.

My state of mind.

...So right now I'm sitting here glancing at my phone pondering whether I should give her a call and try to explain how I really feel.



Frustrated tears have succumb within the past day because I cannot understand the frequency of my own thoughts and feelings I tend to inhibit. Sometime's it's like I'm staring at a torn canvass or something pondering how the fuck it got so bad.

I pick up my phone and slide the top up that reveals the buttons. Who shall I call for a conversation? I firstly try to contact Ashi who had her phone off. Lost, I stare into space for a few seconds before my Mum figures prominently in my head. I call her home number once, no answer. I know that she leaves the phone lying around in all sorts of weird and wonderful places where she cannot get her hands on it in time, so I proceed to call her once again, in which she picks up.

'Mum, hi how are you?' I ask solemnly.

'Fine darling. How are you?' Her affectionate attitude spark my tears again, and I can't help but to start crying and asking for her help and advice. If it's anyone that I go running to in times of need it's always going to be her.

'Not good. I don't know Mum, I need you to help me with this situation. It's such a stupid thing but for some reason I'm really not happy'

I proceed to explain the full course of the situation that occured within the last twenty four hours and exactly why I had been kicking myself for the past four hours.

'It's because your inhibited' She goes to explain 'It's to do with how you were brought up, and that's ingrained in you. Your exactly like what your Dad used to be at twenty two, you find it hard to show emotion and feeling.'

I gathered this information in and knew what she was saying was completely right.

'But I don't understand why I can't show how I really feel Mum. When I was with her I was just...not doing anything even though I told her I liked her and I can't understand why I don't do anything and why I become so scared of something like this?'

What she said rung true and I know it's true. I know that being brought up in purely a negative atmosphere will become habitual in a person's way of thing. Especially if you are born into it. I don't sit and make out that my life in the past was the worse ever, because there are other situations where it gets very bad. I hate self pity and it's very rare I dip into it.

'Let me tell you something. Your Dad used to act like he didn't care at all, and people ended up thinking that he was a cold person who did not consider other people enough. He's a very narrow minded individual and you know that. I'm not saying that you are like him in that area, because you arn't. You are capable of showing emotions but you have to start releasing that inhibition and letting go.'

I sat and took in what she told me. Again what she said was logical. I'm coming to realise that when it comes to girls, me and any type of romance where you have to show how you feel fully, it's something that I cannot grasp onto. I think of it as a romantic idealism and how wonderful it would be to be open with a person who you like a lot. It's not unhealthy. In fact it is a nice thought once in a while, but it's a thought that conjures and takes over my mind so much that I get sad and sick of thinking and dreaming about it. I proceed:

'I mean this is silly because it's not like there has been a relationship. It's not like I've suffered from something major and terrible. It's just that I know I could have had a chance where I may have experienced something nice that I wanted to experience for once. I guess I crave it, because I wouldn't be this tangled up in my head about it'

She agreed with me. It's true, I want to experience romance so much even on the slightest most plainest level that I yearn for it. When you yearn for something, you put pressure on yourself and your mind to achieve it, yet to achieve the love or like of another person is very much out of your control. They are either mutually attracted to you or they arn't.

Mum explains:

'It's also about attachment Nada. I know you find it hard to disattach yourself from people, you've even said that yourself'

'I know Mum, but I don't know why I get attached so easily to people. It's silly and annoying. The usual person does not get attached like I do and I want to learn how to stop doing this'

'It's because your insecure' She states. 'Once again it's to do with your bringing up. You require such a sense of security out of other people because you never really had it in your life psychologically. Therefore you attach yourself to a person to maintain stability and security. This is where you need to learn to release your inhibitions and get to grips with the aspects of your own mind. Remember you cannot achieve happiness within other people'

She continues: 'You need to strike a balance between disattachement and attachment. You can disattach yourself from your Dad because of what you said to him about being a lesbian, so you just have to learn to prescribe that to other people and learn that individuals will leave you and others will come'.

Attachment is an issue to me. I know that too well. I cry over something so small like this. It's like I've just got out of a relationship or something of the like. I know that to be able to strike a balance between attachment and disattachment I have to start thinking logically and asking questions. Too many people flow through life acting upon ignorance and imposing stress upon themselves when that really is quite a negative necessity. I also know that I have to program my mind in accepting. In accepting that people come and go and situations turn out sour, maybe at times beyond our control.

My Mum was right: 'You have to set yourself the daily task of accepting. You have to maintain that balance between everything, your thoughts and feelings and learn to reason with yourself. Once you start to program your mind on a daily basis it eventually becomes automatic. What happens after that is that the mind is set free and releases stress from the body. You end up feeling better all around. It's a long process but once you ingrain that into your mind you achieve harmony through mind and body balance'.

'Then I can go on to achieve other things? Right? I mean..because it's not only this, it's other things about me too. It's the fact that I know I'm dismotivated about my career and I'm just not doing anything. I'm focusing on my social life right now and my job in which I need those long hours to gain financial stability' I said.

'You need to be able to free your mind from your inhibitions first because once you do this you effectively release yourself and many other doors are opened. Ask yourself why is it that you are dismotivated?'

She then posed the question directly to me. I pondered for a few seconds and then stated that it was to do with the fact that there are so many thoughts and desires spiralling in my head right now. They are hard to untangle. She answered that if it were anything that would mean that I would be more motivated to achieve things. I do know though, that confusion as to what I want to achieve in my life and the career path I want to follow is too diverse for me to pinpoint what I really want right now and yes, it's annoying me all the time. I answered honestly:

'In fact Mum I don't think it's dismotivation really. I think, well, it's laziness. I just can't be bothered to get up and do something like research a particular topic for instance and do things actively'

She replied: 'Seneca was an ancient philosopher, one of my favourites. Seneca states that 'Life is not short, life is long if you know how to use it'. I'm going to utilise that towards you. Ask what lazy means. Are you not wanting because of the fear of something? Instead of laziness is there an element of reluctance in your thoughts that are preventing you from going ahead with the things you wish to pursue? Nada you can choose to waste time, it's a decision you make. I also know that your mind needs to be fulfilled with knowledge. Your way of operating is the way in which you exist and the best way you get through life is through learning. The more you are keeping the mind inactive, the more that you are becoming frustrated and it's because you block it. Start to become bothered and obligate yourself with work. The more you tell yourself you should be bothered, the more you will be'

It's true though. I have a keen thirst for knowledge and learning. Lately I've been buying all sorts of magazines like 'Psychologies' and 'The National Geographic' because I just want to learn about different things. I find that when I gain a new piece of knowledge I feel better, even if I don't understand it thoroughly.

One last piece of advice rung well in my ears as to what my Mum said. She stated that 'nothing is without a cause'. What that basically refers to is that I should go back to the habit of asking questions and finding the root of a problem. If you always ask, find the answer, then ask again until you get to the bottom of the barrel so to speak, you have effectively dismantled the problem down thereby you can place logic and reasoning on top of that and act upon it in the most positive way.

In regards to her, I like her a lot. More then I thought I did. I know that I've lost out on a chance that might have been good and fun but in life, you live and you learn.

Everyone has problems of their own, but the people who rise above the crowd are the ones who seek to find a positive answer to those problems and integrate it within their daily routine.

It's not hard to start that process I don't think. First thing's first, I'm going to seek out a simple introduction to Philosophy and see where that takes me.

Thankyou for reading.

The new trainers.

So I sat there with my new trainers in my hands, sitting on the end of my bed last night staring at them with silent tears rolling down my face. I then dropped them on the floor and swung myself round onto the bed and lyed face up, staring at the ceiling, still in a flurry and crying quietly.

No one cries for trainers. No one cries because the right trainer was a bad fit and ended up rubbing against the heel so badly that they were limping home last night like I was.

It was then I realised that I was not crying because the right trainer was a god awful bad fit, no. I wasn't crying because I had spent fifty pounds because they looked fantastic on me and had completed my new look that I was trying to fulfil.

A new look.

What 'new look'? What am I trying to achieve? I like the look I have of me now. The two new jeans that I bought fit me well. They are sort of baggy, but not too baggy. I can fold them up at the bottom and add to the taste that I like to include in my appearance. The tops that I wear could be a bit better, but I am satisfied that the new clothes I have purchased most recently are good on show and they have received some compliments.

Once again though I can look at myself in the mirror and spot the issues that is wrong with my body: The 'faults' that lie there. I look in shop window reflections less. I refuse to because I am trying not to place judgement on image only. Everything is so much more about image and how you portray yourself through a visual effect. It's all about the inside and the qualities you possess as a human being: How you think/your morals/personal happiness -

Personal happiness. Ah.

Where is that for me? Why did I cry for so long yesterday? Where is my personal happiness, and how much of it do I have inside me right now?

My Mum taught me that happiness comes inside from yourself. You cannot extract happiness out of other people which is why I don't like these love lyrics that fall out of place so often (for example: 'You make me complete, you make me so happy').

To gain and achieve personal happiness for the rest of your life is difficult. Seemingly impossible at times, especially when obstacles are thrown up against you all the time. Usually off course, it's people that do that for you. However if it weren't for people who test you like that, you would never learn about life and the rollercoaster effect it has on every single person.

I realise that I was crying last night because I really do not think I'm happy on the inside. I might appear content, but I certainly am far from that. For one I analyse things extremely deeply, and that might be so good, so far, especially when it comes to sorting out life problems (I'm considerably less ignorant and more logical than many others) but still analysing so much is not good when it comes to moving on forward and 'living in the moment' as they say.

My issues are mainly based on one singular question: 'What am I going to do in the future?'. Sometimes I have even considered going to a palm reader/psychic to help me out because I do believe that some people have that talent. Not all but some. I probably will at some point because right now I'm at square one...again. That word 'again' always crops up with my single question. Again, again, and a-fucking-gain. I'm starting to hate that word, especially in conjunction with that question because it is happening too frequently.

Briefly back to the new trainers before I leave. I have decided to return them. New trainers should not do that to your feet at all. Even though I love them dearly, I'm not going to be hobbling around all the time and be uncomfortable. I had enough of that claptrap when I used to wear heels thankyou very much.

The twists of life eh? One day I'm going to get on solid path. One day...

My phone is broken but I'm glad I don't have a massive penis.

The phone is broke.

...and I'm sitting here on my bed in a pissed off mood because I was the one that did the deed. If it's anything that I get fucked off with, it's when technology does not work properly for no good reason. I plugged my phone in to the USB port so I could transfer my photo's I took of last night onto Facebook and Myspace but the thing was not responding at all. I proceeded to try the other USB port and neither did that work.

Nada then starts to get from 0% on the calm scale, rising almost immediately to that 100% mark of being totally discontent. Temper rising by the second, I yank the phone from the USB cord and throw it with force down onto the floor in front of me. I then lean over coolly to see the damage...Yep, the phone is in about five different pieces. I pick the phone up, and look at it from different angles. The screen is broken, the buttons are not actually connected to it anymore, the battery is on the other side of the floor, but luckily the SIM card is still in tact.

I say 'fuck' a few times, before attempting to engage the pieces together and make the stupid thing work again (fat chance). Nope, nothing happens respectably. The only thing that seems to be working is the screen turning on and off and that's virtually all. I breathe a *sigh* before going back on msn and explaining to my friends that I just broke the phone. Angelika replies 'That's quite worrying' whilst Hannah advises 'Calm down Nada!'.

This is something silly. I always give in to my temper in regards to technology. If something doesn't work I'll go mad. Equally if it does not work for no good reason, then I'll go even more mad then before. I have broken this laptop three times but I actually refuse to even go near it if anything goes wrong because I've learnt my lesson in that area. I love the internet too much to do it again.

Luckily I don't have a girlfriend that I have to keep in touch with or otherwise I may be more screwed then I am now. I don't really care actually. The only thing I care about is the fact that I have to phone up Orange, give this god awful excuse to shy away from the fact that it was my fault that I was the one that broke it (Consequently the comprehensive insurance does not cover anything if you damage the product yourself understandably).

I shall do that in approximately ten minutes, and then I shall go out and buy a cheap ass phone which was made way back in 1998 or something, just to receive text messages.

I'm such a shit really.

But at least I don't have that massive penis attached to me like I dreamt of the other night. Now that was probably more disturbing than the phone or my temper with technology. I have no idea why I dreamt it, but it was very spontaneous. I happened to be in a room with a double bed. I think it was my old room in my house where I used to live when I was growing up. And I got up and walked around with it very erect and hard. It was absolutely massive and yes, I have seen some penises in my time. Comparing this one to the ones I have seen, well...there is no comparison. This one was huge! I actually felt the texture of it and everything. I then walked around my room with it erect looking at it in awe and repeating 'Wow! This is so cool/weird'

Penis envy? No. Sex change? No! What would Sigmond Freud say? Probably nothing to do with sex, that dream would be too obvious. He would probably it's to do with the fact that I'm not getting paid enough at work or I'm going to come across some crossroad in life and have to make a decision.

Well...Time to get my fat ass out of this bed and sort out this phone then.

One good thing that will occur today - I'm playing football today. I like playing football as opposed to watching it.

Personal Identity.

So it's 12.15am on another Monday morning. Off course I'm wide awake as I have been an absolute lazy bastard in the day. I finally managed to haul my ass out of bed, rub my eyes a few times and carelessly swing the door open to start my bath and have a goddam hair wash (at last).

Admittedly this weekend has been a flurry of emotional ups and downs. Apart from accepting the fact that the girl I like so much left on Friday and knowing very well I was going to miss her. I felt as if I might have missed out on something that could have been good (maybe) but alas, the control was not in my hands. I'm just very glad I met such an amazing girl. I also had hardly eaten throughout the day of saturday and I was experiencing yet another demeaning identity crisis ever so suddenly.

I'm now sitting here with my 'NY' cap on backwards, black tank top I hate because it makes my hips look wide (but I'd get hot with a t-shirt on), and my new favourite jeans I bought in Brighton the other day, thinking 'Who am I?' and moreover 'Who am I trying to become?'. I'm not so sure that Faith Hill's song 'Breathe' is the correct song to listen to whilst I'm writing this, but I don't usually like the sound of the keys clapping against my fingers, therefore I would rather listen to music to drown it out.

I was talking to a friend on msn today and we were discussing 'personal identity'. It was in depth enough for me to start questioning things that I usually would not have thought of in the first place.

I feel that...I am not who I want to be, but who I want to be is someone I do not know. I mean, I dress in a fashion that is comfortable to how I feel but my underlying thoughts is that I want to change the way I look just to suit the 'label' I have placed on myself. People who know me know that I am very open with my sexuality. Very, very open in fact and some individuals wonder why I'm so outspoken. I'm outspoken because I remained indenial for almost ten years, knowing full well what my sexual orientation was from aged twelve. It's not easy to suppress something like that in the long term. It's virtually impossible because your trying to keep that part of you locked away, even though you know full well that it's something you absolutely crave.

It's interesting looking back a year ago. Last July I came out as gay to most people except my father. He won't know for a while and he need not know until I have a long term girlfriend. When I initially admitted to myself whom I was, I didn't really place that label down...well I did in retrospect, but I didn't pressure on it too much. I proceeded to start going out to gay clubs and established a few connections with lesbians and the like. I could go into a club and be confident enough to kiss a girl every night I went out. It wasn't hard for me, because I wasn't analysing anything: I wasn't thinking, I was just doing. When you act upon impulse, sometimes the best results are emitted because you rely more on your intuition rather than weighing up the odds and thinking too much.

Now however, I'm at some kind of crossroad with myself. I do know who I am as a person. I know and am aware of how I act around people. I know about self awareness and raising personal moral standards. I know how to treat other people right and not harbour bad intentions in life...

But I'm not sure I know..'me'. No let me rephrase that because I know whom I am and what I'm made up of. I just don't know how much personal happiness is stored inside of me. To be honest, I emit all this glow and constant smiles to people, but deep down I don't feel terribly happy. I hate to see pictures of myself, but still take them to justify my belief that I'm ugly in many areas. The more I see them, the more I hate them. I don't even know why I do it really. I try and be grateful for what I have been given within me and how I've grown as a person, but I still find myself somewhat...lost. I don't know, I can explain it but I cannot at the same time.

I know that I feel as if I miss out on a lot of things and I do not know if that's because I'm not acting upon my impulse enough or if it's because things just do not pass my way that easily. Love and relationships are a big issue right now because I feel that ninety five percent of twenty two year old people have experienced something of satisfaction in regards to having a love/lust reciprocated even if it was miniscule. I have not experienced a single thing. I cannot understand why this is? I try and believe in a more paranormal solution if ever there were one. I try and believe that the more I'm waiting, the more amazing that person will be when I finally meet her. It will be more breath-taking then anyone will care to know. It will be so unique and sacred between us that it will almost be as if we created our own para-world. Something so different and exciting, that no one could possibly experience what we are.

I class myself as a romantic but my mum taught me never to become too much of a fantasist or idealist. Idealisms and fantasies can cause a person to put their own head in the clouds and start seeing the world in a very non-realistic way. Then off course there is the hope of something that may not have been there in the first place thus bitter disappointment.

I know what I'm saying here seems rather bland, but this is a blog after all. My thoughts are untangling all at the same time. I have so much more I could say. In fact I could say this in a much more constructive and easy way, but when I listen to music and write at the same time, part of the brain is focusing on the music off course. If I turned it off, I could think far more clearer.

Until next time, which I hope will be soon, I bid you farewell.