This must be the place.

I've almost missed out on what all of my friends are experiencing because I'm not a student. Not that I'm particularly bothered, you can't miss what you've never had. But I'm missing it, I'm not involved.

No student entry, discounts, weekends that start on Thursday, drinking a lot, smoking more, flat share, student loan, over draft, one night stands/flings... none of that.

Then again, no hand ins, no late for class, no studying. No pressure to 'do well'.

My whole life, my attitude, has always been based around not being pressured to do well. And the result? I have average grades, an average job, a very average life and average ambitions. I've never thought yo should push children to do things they don't want to do, but as a child I only wanted to eat chocolate and play The Sims... which didn't get me very far.

So I guess this must be the place, the limbo, between failure and success, happiness and sadness. To be honest, it's rather mundane but I don't have the drive to move up the ladder, find a goal or just do something.

Navigate me through your body.

This year isn't going to be a good one. Urgh.

Not trying to be over dramatic at all. I can tell, it's going to be bad. Nothing's gone right yet.

For maximum emotion, open the "a song" tab to the right.

Story time.

All me and my boyfriend have been doing recently was arguing. Not over anything in particular, stupid things. It escalates until I end up in the biggest huff and he's pissed because he doesn't understand why I'm so annoyed. I'm so annoyed because I'm stubborn.

So, it's almost Christmas, I invite him over for a night in before he goes back home, few hundred miles away. He's gone for a week, it's not the end of the world, I get really crazy when we're apart.

He come's around to my house. I'm not home from work yet. I come in, it's blowing a hooly outside and I'm a mess. he's there, quite the thing, on my sofa. Everyone else has left and it's just us... bliss. We do a gift exchange, christmas presents. Lovely. Pot noodles and super noodles, trashy tea time telly and a box of chocolates.

I wander over to the table, find my bank statement and another envelope. I then go on to rant about how my family never let me know if there's mail for me, they just leave it on the table. It's really frustrating. I open this envelope, assuming it's a receipt for something or a news letter from one of the many shops I buy from online. I'm always skint. But it's not. It's from the NHS. About a month ago I went for an MRI scan. About a month before that I got blood tests. It's about the blood tests.

Blood test results - positive. I've never been speechless before, in my life. I just read it, saying "No, no, no...", wrapping myself around his waist.

After a while of me trying to shrug the letter off, completely ignoring it and pretending it never happened, he asks me, "how do you feel about it?". the only thing I could say back was, "I don't know". I still don't know.

It was one of those moments when you realise how insignificant all the things you worry about really are. The world is bigger than this. I have to live for now, not for the past.

Casually cruel. Can't you see what everybody wants from you?

Things I want out of the next year:

My own place/to move out

New job

New people

I started writing this and I honestly can't think. All well and good thinking of things I might want, but what about what I need? Truth be told I don't need anything. The mental list of things I want is ever growing. Everything ever is never enough.

I've also been trying to make up my '5 year plan', thongs I'd like to have done in the next 5 years.

I don't even want to think that far ahead. I'll be 25 by then. I'm shitting it.

P.s.

Congrats to me, this is post #300. It's only taken me my whole adolescence to get here.

I'll kiss you again, between the bars.

People you've been before that you don't want around anymore. They push, shove, won't bend to your will. I'll keep them still.

I miss this.

I want you to know how incredibly blessed I feel that you're my facebook friend. That once upon a time I knew you. That I can look back on times in my life and smile widely and say, "I sat for five hours just talking and drinking coffee in this little place in the middle of Glasgow." To say that for three hours one night in the Carling Academy I felt loved and scared and used and dirty and elated and ecstatic and you were right there with me, experiencing it.

After all, what happened at the Enemy, stays at the Enemy. That's right? Right? God, tell me it's right.

Don't fall in love with me because I will write about it.

Never.

I understand what I am still too proud to mention to you.

You say you understand but you don't understand.

You say you'll never give up seeing eye to eye.

But never is a promise and you can't afford to lie.

My fever burns me deeper than I've ever shown to you.

You say "don't fear your dreams", it's easier than it seems.

You say you'd never let me fall from hopes so high.

But never is a promise and you can't afford to lie.

You say it looks as though I might give up this fight.

I realise what I am now too smart to mention to you.

You say you understand, you'll never understand.

I say I'll never wake up knowing how or why.

I don't know what to believe in. You don't know who I am.

You say I need appeasing when I start to cry.

But never is a promise and I never need a lie.

Up in the air.

Photos are for people who can’t remember. Drink some gingko and let the photos burn. In fact let everything burn and imagine waking up tomorrow with nothing.

It’s kind of exhilarating isn’t it? That is how I approach every day.

I'll be composing my third photo album this week. I never want to forget this.

Wipe the sleep from your eyes.

I'm in a very sad mood.

I miss having friends. I miss Smiddy. And Jamie. I miss the fun I had with Cassie. I miss making Danielle laugh. I miss going to Gabbys house.

I don't know.

Lovers' carvings.

This doesn't even sound like me any more. So much is changing around me, I can't help but do the same, I can't keep up.

I've come so far from what I was. I'm not grown up yet but I'm growing. I don't want to grow old, bring me all the toys you can find.

"So, I am forgetting everything from now on. The past is exactly that, it's past, no longer important to me. Guess what I'm looking forward to? The future. What's to come? Phone numbers, rain and sun, holidays, new friends. I love meeting new people, it's something that comes all inclusive with that "future" package I received. I chucked my Past in the bin, it was getting old." o6-o3-o9

I know exactly who I want to be now. I want to be the girl in front of the art easel, with long, flowing blonde hair. She's wearing a faded blue shirt that's three sizes too big for her. She's got legs up to her shoulders. She doesn't need make up.

But I can only be me. Being me is much easier that being anyone else. Not half as exciting, but less effort.

Nothing I write is ever good enough.

Come on.

Come on, Heather. Do something new. Something different. No, don't moan about how dull your life is now.

I made it this way. It was my own choice. Fault. I didn't know how to quit while I was ahead. Now all I ever do is quit. Well, no, I give up. Give in.

Some negative prick I met on Saturday outside my local made some remark about making do with what you're given. I stared at him, eyes totally glazed over, just thinking, 'Is this it? Jesus Christ. What the hell am I doing here?', stubbed out my cigarette and got another drink in. It was a slow night.

What I mean to say is, yes, you are the only person that cares, Mr Anonymous. But that's okay, it's been that long. And, thank you. As much as it's not about doing it for other people, it's the complete opposite actually... but it's nice to have some acknowledgement. Just once.

291.

Posts.

Eurgh. This is so sad. I'm never here any more. I'm not creative any more. Rather than create, I've got a job so I can buy things other people have created. My room is full of prints, clothes and jewellery that I've paid silly amounts of money for.

Today I bumped into my old teacher. Well, I was never actually in his class but we always chatted.

The way I was talking, I sounded so interesting. He practically got my life story. Now I feel like a fool. I am not that interesting at all.

What am I? I am 9 to 5. I am living for the weekends. I am slave to the wage. I am do as your told. One-man woman. Sensible shoes. Getting bye. Can't be bothered.

I will surround your heart with lies until the end.

It was easier to tell you everything you want to hear.

I am such a good girlfriend and I put up with so much.

Yet, the minute I'm down and out where are you?

What do I have to do to get you to see me? Do I have to spell it out to you? I'm not well and I'm not alright. Just help me.

You had my heart inside of your hand.

The scars of your love remind me of us, they keep me thinking that we almost had it all.

I miss you.

I don't miss you, I miss the too-good-to-be-true memory I have of you.

I miss how you made me feel like the most important thing in your life.

I miss the tales you would spin.

But I don't miss how you built me up to knock me down.

Nor do I miss the lies that were weaved into the promises.

And I certainly don't miss the feeling when I realised that you are the most important person in your life.

The perfect boy.

Oh, girl. He's not the one, for sure. He's not so wonderful. He's not the perfect boy at all.

Sometimes I wonder if you even liked The Cure, or if you just liked them so we'd have something in common.

Could I have loved you better?

It was only five years ago. Only? Who am I trying to kid, it feels life forever.

Time is a great healer and I'm a perfect example. After my first 'love' I swore I'd never love again. I'm glad I've found someone that could make me think differently. He did all that and he didn't even have to try.

Funny how time can go by and you're convinced other people have changed. I've come to realise I've never been the same. I probably won't be, either.

Rambles. I'm a shambles.

I'm sore all over. So it must have been a good night, right?

I'll be forever wondering what it all meant. Maybe it didn't mean anything? It didn't mean anything at all, really. It shouldn't do. What does anything mean anyway.

BEDTIMERAMBLER.

Horrendous.

I am so sick of being so good all the time.

Always, being good.

Heather, how's work?

Yeah, it's great, thanks.

Heather, coming for a fag?
Nah, I don't smoke.

Heather, how's that boyfriend of yours?

Yeah, he's good. We're good.

I want to stop being good and start being great. So fucking great. I want to be dreadful.

I gave up on the daily photo. I'm too busy procrastinating.

Day Three - A picture of the cast from your favourite show.

I'm going to do day four on friday. I'm a busy bee.

How could it be any other show? Phoebe is my fave. And Joey. And Chandler... I love it.

Day Two - A picture of you and the person you have been closest with the longest.

How can I be closer with anyone that how I am with my mum? She definitely wins this category. As much as we don't get along, she knows me inside out.

Day one - A picture of yourself with five facts.

Five facts?

My name is Heather Cameron. Fact.

I spend far more money that I can afford. Fact.

I don't share a lot. Fact.

My taste in music is atrocious. Fact.

My family are the best.

30 day challenge.

Day One - A picture of yourself with five facts.

Day Two - A picture of you and the person you have been closest with the longest.

Day Three - A picture of the cast from your favourite show.

Day Four - A picture of your night.

Day Five - A picture of your favourite memory.

Day Six - A picture of the person you'd love to trade places with for a day.

Day Seven - A picture of your most treasured item(s).

Day Eight - A picture that makes you laugh.

Day Nine - A picture of the person who has gotten you through the most.

Day Ten - A picture of the person you do the most crazy things with.

Day Eleven - A picture of something you hate.

Day Twelve - A picture of something you love.

Day Thirteen - A picture of your favourite band of artist.

Day Fourteen - A picture of someone you could never imagine your life without.

Day Fifteen - A picture of something you want to do before you die.

Day Sixteen - A picture of someone who inspires you.

Day Seventeen - A picture of something that has made a huge impact on your life recently.

Day Eighteen - A picture of your biggest insecurity.

Day Nineteen - A picture and a letter.

Day Twenty - A picture of somewhere you'd love to travel.

Day Twenty One - A picture of something you wish you could forget.

Day Twenty Two - A picture of something you wish you were better at.

Day Twenty Three - A picture of your favorite book.

Day Twenty Four - A picture of something you wish you could change.

Day Twenty Five - A picture of your day.

Day Twenty Six - A picture of something that means a lot to you.

Day Twenty Seven - A picture of yourself and a family member.

Day Twenty Eight - A picture of something you're afraid of.

Day Twenty Nine - A picture that can always make you smile.

Day Thirty - A picture of someone you miss.

I want a girl with a mind like a diamond. I want a girl who knows what's best. I want a girl with shoes that cut and eyes that burn like cigarettes. I want a girl with the right allocations, who is fast and thorough and sharp as a tack, she is playing with her jewelry, she is putting up her hair, she is touring the facility and picking up slack. I want a girl with a short skirt and a long jacket.

I want a girl who gets up early. I want a girl who stays up late. I want a girl with uninterrupted prosperity. Who uses a machete to cut through red tape. With fingernails that shine like justice and a voice that is dark like tinted glass. She is fast, thorough and sharp as a tack, she is touring the facility and picking up slack. I want a girl with a short skirt and a long, long jacket.

I want a girl with smooth liquidation. I want a girl with good dividends. At Citi Bank we will meet accidently, we will start to talk when she borrows my pen. She wants a car with a cup holder armrest. She wants a car that will get her there. She is changing her name from Kitty to Karen. She is trading her MG for a white, Chrysler LeBaron. I want a girl with a short skirt and a long jacket.

Come and save me.

Latte Junkie.

Working nine to five, raking in the dough. Typing these fingers to the bone. Good morning, McArthur Stanton, how can I help? That £1.75 of Caramel Latte is the only thing that gets me through the day.

I'm losing my mind.

Apparently photographs are for people who can't remember but I'm so terrified that I might forget.

Balance

Far away in a distant land, there's these four kids that grew up firm friends. Ambition is the youngest, a bright eyed kid with a numbness where his logic should have been 'cause he was ruled by his hungers. Next there was Pride. Now, Pride walked with a broad stride because he hid from himself his weaknesses. Yeah, people loved being near him, they couldn't tell whether they liked him or feared him. They found his self confidence endearing. Next there was Talent, Talent was beautiful and gallant. She lived for her senses though and not for her sense and so her poor heart was covered in dents. The oldest was Envy. Envy's eyes often seemed empty. She would talk loud in lengthy sentences. She was friendless, sensitive, tall and cold and her eyes were green like your skin when it gets marked by fake gold.

So they grew up and they fell out, they made up and they got drunk, they hung out from sun up to sun and they got done in and they hit the ground running. They looked forward and found something but it all turned to nothing when Pride got with Talent, Envy with Ambition, they forgot how to listen. Things changed, became different. everything was competition. Talent and Pride became bitter. Despised, they got hateful. Sarcastic, dreary and drastic. Yeah they loved each other greatly but their fights were terrible. They raised each other high up on pedistools. They isolated themselves. They stopped speaking to Ambition and Envy, they became distant and unfriendly. That's when Envy got sad and cried plenty. Then indignation roused, she discovered she wanted more than she had found with Ambition, he was always looking but only got what he was given, concerned not with what his hands held but what they could be gripping. He was always chasing, never thought to fill the space in and Envy made him more desperate with very pointed conversation, forcing the comparisons, making him address how every time he promised more she always ended up with less.

And so, in this way, these four firm friends became four fierce forces, heading for that awkward stage that precedes most divorces. Four joint segments or a one body party, just drifted apart and turned nasty. But Pride keeps Envy at bay, Ambition helps Talent become ore than just apparent. Talent will then flourish, this will enable Pride which quells Envy. They should exist side by side 'cause these factors contribute to Balance. Alone, Pride is often Envious of Talents and yeah, many have Ambition but Talent, they haven't and some have Talent and they get Envious of proud Ambition and so, alone, these four friends came to realise that, without the others,they're just a quarter of what they ought to be. Still, everything occurs accordingly. Now when they meet up, conversation seems to float awkwardly so they're just living seperate lives thinking "There used to be more to me."

Kate.

"Give me the same as what you've having. You look happy, you look so care free... Oh, no, wait a minute, you look scary. And you look like you can't bear me. Oh well. Give me water, then. Give me sleep. Give me food to eat that doesn't leave me weak. Fuck that, I need a box of wine, 'cause every face is yours and your face ain't mine. I need to get stern with myself, I have extremely high hopes. I also have wet eyes and a dry throat and a whole heap of rhymes that I wrote. So give me time on my own. Oh no, wait, give me people to talk to. I'm going mad and I'm weak willed. keep still and breath quietly. I need recovery, somebody cuddle me. Give me time on my own! No, shit, I need people to talk to...

I've been awake all night, just writing. Sick of myself. Fighting the urge to get rid of myself. I'm so exposed, I've hidden myself. Honestly, I can't live with myself. I can't stop giving myself a hard time. i can't stop giving and I can't stop taking and I get lost in this give-take. But now it's sunrise and your eyes are a cliff face that I fall off every morning. Yes, I'm appalling but calm me down, give me kind words. Come here and put your arms around me. Let your heart beat drown mine out since you found me. So just give me some space. No wait, come here, crowd me. "

Take it.

If you want my love, take it, baby. If you want my heart, take it, baby. You can have it all. If you want my time, take it, baby. And if you want my last dime, take it, baby. You can have it all.

Take it, baby, you can have it all.

I am so sorry.

And so it is.

I love that you love my squidgy tummy, my prickly legs the day after I've shaved them even though they're minging. I love that you don't mind my eating habits, the amount I eat or putting my frozen chips in the oven. I love that you put up with my laziness, my morning breath, my tendency to steal your clothes and my bad taste in music. I love that you give me cuddles before I fall asleep even though you find it really uncomfy.

I just. Yeah. Love you.

Time to dance.

Fuck as drunk?

Believe me, I want to stay.

A tune that reminds me there's more to life than worrying.

A weekend isn't well spent when you're searching for frozen peas 'cause someone's decided to punch your boyfriends lights out.

Fuck. My. Life. That's just a bit too much reality for my liking.

Friends.

I always thought we were like Ross and Rachel. More preferably, JD and Elliot. On again, off again, friends again, not again. But I always thought, like them, it'd work out.

Always though that I'd have to watch you with other people, painfully. That I'd kid myself, pretend I'm happy with someone else. That I'd forever hate you for leaving me but forever take you back at the drop of a hat.

And I did, I hated you. And I loved you.

And I realise now, there's more to life than you. You might stop but my world doesn't. You are not a Jenga block. Everything didn't collapse when you did a runner. Maybe it did a little... But I picked it up.

Stronger without you.

I was stupid to think that you'd be my first and only.

I just want you close, where you can stay forever. You can be sure that it will only get better.

Pas peur de la couleur.

Going all nature on your ass. My new family of caterpillars have brought me into the garden more often, atleast twice a day. We had a down pour today, the minute I got home I ran out to check they were okay. They did not respond well to me giving one of them a stroke.



They were all I'M GONNA BITE YOU.

Aren't the adorable?

They're destroying a plant in my garden. I don't mind. Fingers crossed the birds don't spot them... then again, they're fairly well hidden.

What?

Just when you're in your happy place with Mr Fantastic that seems perfect. Your gay best friend sticks his tongue down your throat and you realise you fancy the girl that works in the corner shop.

What. The. Fuck.

I live for saturday nights.

Blind Mary.

I'll make you mixtape that's a blueprint of my soul. It may sound grand but, babe, it's all you need to know. I'll make you a mixtape that will charm you into bed. It details everything that's runnung round my head.

Me, you. Pomplamoose. Say Hi. Pokemon. Chip rolls. "The dip". Pauline and Fiona. Size 11 shoes. Kelso building, floor 2, room 1. Pepperamis. Me in your hat and shirt. Sainsburys own brand of vodka. Open curtains. 'Fine'. Pineapple Man and the Whale. Secret stash of galaxy and cheese and onion crisps. The niceness. Fantastic. Amazing. Msn drawings. Pretend huffs. That time you made me cry? That time you told me to stick around forever. That time after that when I wanted to say the same. The cheese. 3 texts in the morning rule. Back scratching. Tickles that I hate. Planetarium. Lynx deoderant. The thinks. Interlocking bodies. BUM.

Come home.

I couldn't think of anything special, meaningful or relevant to our relationship that might make you smile. I wanted to put something here that would reasure you I might not say much to you but I do miss you.

I would save every single penny that I earn if I thought that I could buy you somewhere to live.

Sammy doll, come home.

Goodbye.

Sometimes it's hard to get better or cry. I have been writing this letter in my mind. And don't get emotional, it's beautiful. Listen, i'll tell you a secret. If I should ever feel like going home, I'd jump so I could fly. I'd be one, with every piece of sand, with every mountain high. Don't tell me I'm wrong and that it break your heart, because that's just the way I feel. I love it here, but I don't belong here and it's been clear for a while. Will be clear. End of all the fights. From the dark,into the light. From the dark, into the light. Goodbye.

We make it every time.

I'll be the one who brings you coffee when you can't get up. I'll be the one who turns the light out when you go to sleep. I'll be the one who turns your stomach into something else. You say "shut up, shut up" every time I say I'll be the one who takes your coat off, one to take the blame. I'll be the one you call your lover, every now and then. You'll be the one who keeps me sober, one to keep me sane and you say "shut up, shut up" every time I say it.

And I'd cut my fingers to the bone and I'd split my sides in for you. Tonight, we throw ourselves away and we make it every time. When I thought I was ok, you said I was alright. As the night comes crashing down, we catch ourselves a line. Yeah we're only makin' out if we make it out alright.

I'll be the one who stands beside you in the photograph. I'll be the one that's in your water when you want me there. I'll be the one you're falling over every time you laugh and you say "shut up, shut up" every time I say I'll be the one who keeps you guessing, who swears a lot. I'll be the one that let your colour in the white wash. You'll be the one that knocks the man out I was beating up and you say "shut up, shut up" every time I say it.

And you cut my face, I told you so. I'd tear my eyes out for you. Tonight, we throw ourselves away and we make it every time. When I thought I was ok, you said I was alright. As the night comes crashing down, we catch ourselves a line. Yeah, we're only makin' out, if we make it out alright.

You are the only exception.

From a sour bottle, baby girl, with eyes the size of baby worlds.

Me And You And Everyone We Know.

This is the most amazing film in the world.

Unsettled.

Far from content.

My unreliable friends make me wonder why I bother. I don't want to be one of those girls that has no friends other than her boyfriend but it's difficult when the pals never leave their houses. What to do, what to do.

Never Meant.

Let's just forget everything we said and everything we did. Best friends, better halves, goodbyes and the autumn night when we realized we were falling out of love. There were some things that were said, that weren't meant, like we never did. Not to be overly dramatic, I just think it's best 'cause you can't miss what you forget. So let's just pretend everything and anything between you and me was never meant.

I'm All Over It.

Hello innocence, though it seems though we’ve been friends for years. I’m finishing. How I wish it had never begun though it should be the last one. And it’s dragging me down to my knees where I’m begging you, please, let me go. Don’t you know I’m all over it now and I cant say how glad I am about that. I’m all over it now ‘cos I worked and I cursed and I tried and I said I could change and I lied. Where there’s something still moves me inside. She’s a melody that I’ve tried to forget but I can’t. It still follows me. When I wake in the dead of the night and I know that I can’t fight that song going round in my head like the last thing she said, "Please don’t go". You’d think I know.

I’m all over it now and I cant say how glad I am about that. I’m all over it now ‘cos I worked and I cursed and I cried and I said I could change and I lied. Where there’s something still moves me inside. Now I wont come back, I wont come back. No I wont come back, no I wont come back.

One dark morning she left without warning and took the redeye back to London town.

I’m all over it now.

Blood.

We want it.

I wish smoking wasn't so horrible. If it didn't smell so horrid and taste terrible I'd without a doubt be back on fags. I was so cool.

Live love today, and come tomorrow what may. Don't even stop for a sigh, it doesn't help if you cry. That's how I'll live and I'll die, devil may care!

10/10.

All the cheap and sugary philosophies have got me on the fence, just waiting and waiting.

I was just outside The Clyde when my Dad called. "Your brother's been taken into hospital, he's okay, but we're going to come and pick you up." He's in hospital but he's okay... I don't think so.

He hadn't been well. Hayfever, completely normal for him especially this time of the year. A couple of days he was loaded with hayfever. On Sunday he felt particularly unwell. He went to work, 5am to 10.30am, his normal. He came home straight after and went straight to bed, not unusual. He woke up for dinner at 5, had a shower and they headed around to my Uncle & Aunts house, it's just around the road. They had their meal, a couple of drinks. He was only feeling worse, decided he'd best get home and to bed. My Uncle walked him to the gate, it has a thousand locks on it that no one seems to understand. As they walked down the drive, my Uncle felt a heavy weight on his back, James' arms on his shoulders. Down like a tonne of bricks, so he was.

Cardiac arrest. Apparently you'r heart just decided "sorry pal, i'm taking a moment to myself the now". In turn, your brain is starved of oygen causing everything to shut down.

The ambulance came in 4 minutes, pretty fast if you ask me. You always hear about emergency services having shoddy time keeping and all that but they were there in a jiffy. They brought out the difubrillator and gave him a wee buzz. He came to and, confused, swung at most of the people in the ambulance. It took 4 nurses to keep him down.

He's been kept sedated, paralysed and on a good amount of painkillers. There's a machine breathing for him the now until he can manage it himself. They've told us today that he has a chest infection from vomit that he'd chocked on, while he was unconcious, that's been inhaled into his lungs. The doctors will try to prevent this from developing into pnemonia.

He's 20, doesn't smoke, doesn't drink excessively. He keeps a good, varied diet. A young, healthy lad. He's had a heart condition all his life that we've only just found out about. His heart is too big. the muscles are too thick, his heart can over work itself and not pump blood properly. The doctor said if the circumstanced has been any different, his chances of survival would have been very slim.

My Dads side of the family have alot of medical history regarding heart conditions. All of his Mums brothers and sisters died between 20 and 40. I'll need to go to the doctors once this has all blown over to get checked.

And, that's that I guess?

It's been the worst weekend of my life.

In A Years Time.

One year ago I had different friends. I had a plan, I had college and learning and all the stupid stuff I knew I wouldn't stick to. A year ago I had it easy.

Heather Cameron; The Working Girl.

I've probably learnt more in the past week that I did during the whole of my 5th and 6th years at school. And the time spent at college, albeit was only briefly.


I've just finished downloading the RE: Brand series. He looks like such a junkie. Recommend anyone to download.

Ducklings.

Devotchka – How It Ends makes me so full of happy.

Hi, my name's Heather and I have a job. I earn money. I sell mother fucking houses.

Bet that's something no one thought I'd ever say.

Untitled.

I give myself very good advice but I very seldom follow it.

Things are good right now.

Celebration.

Congratulations, reached 11 followers! To me, that's a big deal. The majority of these 11 are probably bots though. Sad fact.

Excuse Me?

Half past 2 in the morning and you're horrifically drunk. After pestering me for hours to call you, I do. Then when we're chatting, you tell me you're too busy and you'll call me back. I can hear her in the background and no matter how many times I ask who are you with you won't tell me. I hang up. You don't call me back.

You don't remember this the next day but you do remember being with her and not wanting to tell me because I might jump to conclusions... can you honestly blame me?

After hours of conversations about how I shouldn't hold back from telling you anything, you go and blatantly do the opposite. -10 trust points bro.

Margaret Mitchell -

I was never one to patiently pick up broken fragments and glue them together again and tell myself that the mended whole was as good as new. What is broken is broken, and I'd rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and see the broken places as long as I lived.

Jack Penate – Have I Been A Fool

Snowcones And Puppies.

and watching you sing.

It's been a few months now, us, in the running. Not even an official item yet I still imagine the future... sad, isn't it?

But there hasn't been anyone I can be physically comfortable with in so long. As much as I'm out-going and loud and friendly, that doesn't stop me being absurdly self-concious as are most women. So you can understand why I wouldn't like anyone touching my thighs, hips, love handles or tummy. But I let you because you re-assure me that you love my 'squidge' (but it'd help if you didn't reffer to it as that).

It's funny 'cause we've been friends for about 5 months, friends with 'privileges' for a month of so, it's going to come crashing down fairly soon... But I honestly couldn't care less! Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, right? I'd much rather have hundreds of brilliant memories of us and a brief blip of sadness than nothing at all. Who even said this has to be the end? Sure as hell doesn't seem as if you want it to be.

There is love of course. And then there's life, its enemy.

You quiver like a candle on fire, I'm putting you out. Maybe tonight we could be the last shout. But I'm fascinated by your style, your beauty will last for a while.

You're feeling instead of being. The more that I live on the inside, there's nothing to give. I'm infatuated by your moves. I've got to search hard for your clues.

I want to repair your desire and call it a gift that I stole from just wanting to live. Now I see the vision through your eyes, your innocence no longer fuels surprise.

Trying to outrun your fear, running to lose. Heart on your sleeve and your soul in your shoes. Take a left, a sharp left and another left. Meet me on the corner and we'll start again.

Parting Gift.

I opened my eyes while you were kissing me once, more than once, and you looked as sincere as a dog. Just as sincere as a dog does when it's the food on your lips with which it's in love. I bet you could never tell that I knew you didn't know me that well. It is my fault, you see, you never learned that much from me. Oh you silly stupid pastime of mine. You were always good for a rhyme. And from the first, to the last time, the signs said 'Stop' - but we went on whole-hearted. It ended bad, but I love what we started. It said 'Stop' - but we went on whole-hearted. It ended bad, but I love what we started.

I Am Wrecked.

You don't want 9 to 5 and you don't want a house and kids. You want to live life.

But I couldn't ask for anything else. Just some normality after this hectic mess. All I've got right now is what every other teen would dream of. Late nights and later mornings, only returning home because I've ran out of money, living out of the Bank of Mum. Drink. Drugs. Cigarettes. Boys, boys, boys. I hate this game but I'm one of the players.

I'd like something set in stone, nothing is for sure in this life.

My life will only ever be as normal as I am. A boy in make up.

Don't You Like What's On Your Plate?

It's all for show. The stage lights glow.




So let's update. Heather Cameron; 18, still small, still a bit podgey, still lazy as hell. Now on the dole. Now looking for a job. Now absolutely skint. Now there are so many strings attached.

I think I might be losing the plot. It would look as if, at the moment, the world isn't on my side. I'm awfully negative these days.

Twice As Nice.

I think you look nice, twice as nice as anybody else so please don't lose your mind 'cause it doesn't belong to anybody else.

This is the first time I've been with someone and not minded that we've not stuck a label on it, nothing's set in stone.

Nature Boy.

We fit perfectly. I've not felt this way about anyone in years. Maybe it's because, like him, you'll leave me in the summer months?

Absence makes the heart grow fonder... Out of sight, out of mind?

You're Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go.

"Drink up one more time and I'll make you mine and keep you apart, deep in my heart. Seperate from the rest, where I like you the best. Keep the things you forgot."

I had an amazing idea for a post, I started it the other day. I really got into it aswell. All about how my bedroom reflects me, myself and I. Then I started thinking and decided "Fuck it, I'm love struck."

Love struck. Struck by love? Dance me to the end of love.

It's going to be the complete opposite of a summer romance. "A summer fling, it didn't mean anything". It's in the lead up to summer that our, er, our 'thing' will bloom. Thing, I'm not even sure what this is. I come up to see you, we get nice and loved up for a good few hours then I go home, not to see you for atleast another week.

This week will be my binge. I'll over-indulge in your company to last another week.

I love your nicknames for me. Never before in my life have I enjoyed being called 'babe' but you say it so well. Honeyloop. Strawberry Cupcake. All of the most cringe worthy of pet names... But I'd rather you call me any of them, rather than Heather.

You say the sweetest things to me. Sweetest nothings. "When I think of you I realise, life's worth while.", "Have I ever told you, you're amazing?" and I'd kill to be able to say "I could stay with you forever and never realise the time" but I know I'd instantly feel embarrassed. I just want to remember every single thing you say to me, want to keep in locked away in my brain box and bring it out during the summer months.

I know I'll blame you. I'll not be happy about our seperation. I've delt with loss before but I've never dealt with it well. But in the end, it's my fault. The moment I met you, I set my trap. I'd decided 'I'm going to get this one', because you were the only one that didn't want me.

I don't know what I'll do but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Right now, I might as well enjoy it.

You're A Winner.

My Mum always describes me as either 'a bit off the rails' or 'just a wee bit different' and I always tell her it'd be so dll if everyone was the same and there weren't people like me to give you a change.

I can't even begin to imagine how those "Normal" people get by. Going by the latest trends and what not... How can you possibley be passionate about anything when all you do is follow the fashions and keep up with the new look?

It's completely beyond me. I couldn't bring myself to throw all of my woolie jumpers and skinnies out to replace them with those floral dresses and them weird lacey things. I'd never discard my Doc's in favour of a pair of Dolly shoes. I don't care if it's cool to have hundreds of hair right now, I love looking like a boy.

And I'd rather look like a clown than anything else.

Nobody Knows It But Me.

I change shapes just to hide in this place.

I read one of my new favourite quotes the other day, goes something like "Suchiehall Street can't contain us, we'll drink 'til we're famous" - Andrew Bradley, is that not just fantastic?

I'll tell you what else is fantastic, hugs. Loving hugs right now. And holding hands, just touching. Sharing and talking and telling stories and getting to know you.

There's nothing I look forward to more these days. If I'm not texting you I'm reading a text from you or thinking of a reply. If I'm not on the phone we're on msn or I'm up at the flat. When I'm not there I'm usually travelling to or from yours. Maybe it's just because It's been a while but it seems like a big deal to me.

I love it when I arrive in peoples lives, unannounced, and grab their attention.

This might be the kick I need for this writers block.

Don't tell yourself you're happy if you ain't.

Kate Tempest is an inspiration. You can tell she puts so much into her work, that every word she speaks is stuffed with emotion and each poem is overflowing with feeling. Watching her on stage, she spoke with so much passion. It's rare to watch a live act and actually think they're focusing more on what they're saying than how it sounds. She's an inspiration and a half.

Oh My God.

Gorillaz – Some Kind of Nature (Feat. Lou Reed)

And! dan le sac vs Scroobius Pip tonight. Ohmygodohmygod.

Balance.

"You've got your ball, you've got your chain tied to me tight, tie me up again."

Don't Look Back In Anger.

Putting practice into play.

What did I say yesterday? "And you've asked me a thousand times if I'm okay, I daren't tell you that I'm not."... I would love to tell you what's wrong but I don't even know. Sometimes I'm a mess, I'm a wreck but I can't describe why.

I couldn't be more embarrassed. I know it's not what you think I think it is.

"Who broke my Heather?"
"You think I'm broken? I'm just temporarily on hold."
"That's a bit cryptic. Do explain, dearest."
"I love it when I'm cryptic! Can't I leave anything to the imagination? It's nothing really, just me being a big girl."
"I thought as much. Don't be silly, it's not what you think. She's like a little sister and I hate insest!"
"No! Don't you be silly! I told you, I'm not silly. I'm just... off right now."

You've hit the nail right on the head. I don't know.

Mystery Letters.

About an hour ago, I felt completely useless. At that moment in time, I was convinced that indulging in past bad habits would make everything okay. Flicking through my Blogger updates to see an old but familiar name was the begining of cheering me up. "Something to read, something to take my mind off of my dreary life." and I read. Then I read again. Then I read another few times.

Reading over that second last paragraph, just reading and re-reading, it made me realise this is not the end of the world, I am not completely worthless, there are plenty of other people I should think about besides myself. The Enemy. God, The Enemy. You couldn't have described it better, "I felt loved and scared and used and dirty and elated and ecstatic and you were right there with me, experiencing it" that's exactly how it was. Absolute madness. Far from the norm. But like you said, we are insane, aren't we?

A million 'thank you's, albeit, a bit late. I'd hate to have you think you're mearly a facebook friend. You are so much more than that. Everytime I walk by Waterstones I get excited. And there's a life size cut out of that silly shiney vampire in the window of Forbidden Planet that I keep telling myself I'm going to buy and ship it to you.

You may hate listening to yourself but I could listen to you for days. There's so much to know. You may also hate reflection but that's the gritty part about blogging! And there's nothing I enjoy more than reading something that you've typed, when it's full of emotion.

I like the silence too. It's comfortable silence, I feel. But never think of yourself as 'just a facebook friend', we have this secret place where we can write to eat other but no one will know. None of this "how are you" nonsense, I like to read about the real stuff. Type more for my amusement? Atleast to pass the time. To get it out in the open. To rage more. I love it when you write. There's been nothing that has come from you that I haven't liked. I still have one, locked away, "My Delilah, you name is lit up now. In blue and red flashes, it gleams on the front door. The torch light shines on your greying face. Your smiling. Your name is finally in lights, my dear Delilah. Hey there, Delilah. They forgot you."

I hope to hear more.

Everything Is Wrong.

"No one can take it away from me, no one can tear it appart 'cause a heart that hurts is a heart that works."

See? This is why I shouldn't try and get close to people. I am a vile person. I am terribley jelous. I am so many horrible things but as much as I try to act like it doesn't bother me... I couldn't possibley be any more upset. Sure, I'm going to be upset right now, it's 'that time' when I get dead emotional about anything.

But I think this will be an on-going problem. The fact of the matter is, you have alot of friends that aren't mine. God... This is all a lot of nonsense and I know I'm freaking out over nothing. I'm hungry and I'm tired and I'm cold and I'm ill, I'm over-reacting. Alot. It could be anything right now that would set me off, we're just unlucky that it's this.

I can't help but think that this, 'us' thing, is never actually going to kick off.

And you've asked me a thousand times if I'm okay, I daren't tell you that I'm not. I couldn't stand the thought that I'd be a burden to you. The idea that you'd have to re-think all of your plans because I might be upset would only make me feel worse.

So, I'll keep my problems to myself and leave you be. I don't want a part of you. I want the whole of you. This is all going far too slow for my liking, so I assume I'm not to your liking.

Up On Melancholy Hill.

According to the internet, these are the men I've to avoid:
Mr Liar Liar, Mr Controlling, Mr Player, Mr Eeyore, Mr Sponger, Mr Mummy's Boy, Mr Doormat, Mr Child Hater, Mr Addict and Mr Never-Been-Single.

Now I want you to think about this; have you ever met a man that isn't partially one of those men?

Exactly. Now shut up and stop being so picky. Beggers can't be choosers.

With These Hands.

You know that feeling you get when something happens? Something that you don't want to happen? Something you didn't even take into consideration.

Shock? It's partially shock. Some of it is just ultimate disappointment. A pinch of anger too. Just so much emotion in the whole of one minute. It's these oments that make me question weither it's worth all of the hasstle.

And you know what I say?

The war has begun.

Help?

There's Nothing But The Rain.

It's so blatantly obvious. We've both made it obvious. I'm still nervous though, regardless. Are you? I think so. You seem it. That would explain why it's taking so long to happen...

But I'm starting to think I've scared you off. The constant talking, wanting attention from you, texting, texting, texting. Never giving you a break from me. Always trying to either show you more about me or remind you.

So now I'm freaking out. Starting to be off with you. Trying not to talk to you as much, on word answers and all of that jazz. The typical 'cold shoulder'. The last thing I want to do is give off the impression that I'm needy. I am not needy! I don't need. Not you, anyone. I'm fine by myself, thank you very much. I'm not afraid of anything, I just need to know that I can breath.

But, It's been so nice having company. Being held. I haven't 'cuddled' with anyone in so long. I've always been dead against it but, man, was I missing out.

Ah, it's only a problem if I make it.

If We Only Stayed Together, I Might Not Have Fallen Apart.

Imagine a place you can always escape to, an island off the coast of nowhere. A new destination of your own creation just waiting till you choose to go there. Blue tree tops and velvet skies, blue, ready to blow your mind. This is a place where your mind can escape all the problems today and go far, far away. This is a time with no history, welcome to mystery. Imagine a city where everything's pretty and you sir, you rule the kingdom. You call the shots you can do what you want to. Oh, just imagine the freedom. Blue tree tops and velvet skies, blue, ready to blow your mind. Welcome to mystery.

Imagine a room where the flowers, they bloom through the cracks in the floor and the ceiling. Just you and the missus and roses and kisses. My, what a wonderful feeling. This is a place where your mind can escape all the problems today and go far, far away. This is a time with no history, welcome to mystery. This is a place where your mind can escape all the problems today and go far, far away. This is a time with no history. Feel no misery. Come and visit me. Welcome to mystery.

Square Smileys.

I started following a new blog today. A very humorous one at that.

Thus, I've decided to stop being so miserable and start refering to the hitchhickers guide to the galaxy more often. How about that.

Soon It Will Be Cold Enough To Build Fires.

And the earth started shaking and, yea, it was crazy. Heaven and Hell came crashing down. It was beautiful and terrible.

Life's strange without my mum in the house. It's not a bad feeling, everything is okay. It's just odd. It's probably not good to say this, but I can come home knowing I'm not going to get an earful of nagging. It's a nice break.

But it works both ways.

Not If You Were The Last Junkie On Earth.

I never thought you'd be a junkie because heroin is so passe. But today, if you think that I don't know about depression and emotional pain; you're insane, or you're a fool who hasn't paid attention to a word that I say. In a way, I can't help but feel responsible, I always knew that you were insane with your pain, but I never thought you'd be a junkie because heroin is so passe.

And I miss your smile. The way your eyes get small when you really smile. Not just a "Ha, I'm smiling for the hell of it" smile. Actual smiles. Those kind of smiles make me feel as if I'm doing something right. A sort of reasurance that I can still make you laugh, make you happy.

And I miss how you flicked your hair. I know that's sad, but it's like a movie hair flick. But you've had a haircut since then.

I don't really miss you, though, I just think I should. Being a big part of my life and all. It's natural that I should miss you. I should miss you, I just don't. The bad in you outweighs the good. Maybe when you can show me that you've grown up, I can show you some sympathy. But, for as long as you're going to make silly mistakes, I can't take your side.

We Only Wanna Get Drunk.

You! I'm sick of you lot. This generation that acts as if it cares what state our planet is in. You're all "Kids are dying" and "Peace on earth". Let's all be honest, if you really gave a crap, you'd do something about it!

Me? I'm trying to live right here, right now. As selfish as it may seem, I'll fuck up this planet all I want, I'm not going to see the effects. I'll leave that pile of shit for that generation.
I. Don't. Care.

I'm sorry, am I being angry for no apparent reason?
Yeah, actually, you are. Fancy shutting the hell up and talking some sense?
...Not any time soon.

Here's the deal. I fancy the pants off of you but neither of us is ballsy enough to do something... Wait a minute... Doesn't this sound a bit like every single guy I've ever mentioned? There's something to think about.

Another blog will arrive shortly.

Imagination.

I see myself, in say... 7 years time? Maybe 7, less that ten... In a big house, or a flat, with lots of windows, a big empty place with too much room and not enough furniture. Infront of an easel, painting something colourful and nice. Big thin baggy jumpers and leggings, short messy hair. Big shoes. Like, skate shoes. No make up. Friends around, that just come and go, like a drop in. Half way house.

Just a thought.

A Design For Life.

Libraries gave us power then work came and made us free, but what price now for a shallow piece of dignity? I wish I had a bottle, right here in my dirty face, to wear the scars, to show from where I came. We don't talk about love, we only want to get drunk and we are not allowed to spend as we are told that this is the end. A design for life.

Chums.

Buds. Pals. Whatever. I've got them.


I’ve got a sheet for my bed and a pillow for my head. I’ve got a pencil full of lead and some water for my throat. I’ve got buttons for my coat and sails on my boat, so much more than I needed before. I got money in the meter and a two bar heater, now it’s getting hotter. Oh it’s only getting sweeter. I got legs on my chair and a head full of hair. Pot and a pan and some shoes on my feet. I got a shelf full of books and most of my teeth, a few pairs of socks and a door with a lock. I got food in my belly and a license for my telly and nothing’s gonna bring me down. I got a nice guitar and tyres on my car. I got most of the means and scripts for the scenes. I’m out and about, so I’m in with a shout. I got a fair bit of chat but better than that, food in my belly and a license for my telly and nothing's going to bring me down. Nothing’s gonna bring me down. But best of all I’ve got my baby. She’s mighty fine and says she’s all mine and nothing’s going to bring me down.

One post imediately after the other. They had to be seperate.

Oh, Hi.

I didn't think you were here anymore...

+)

Good God.

I started this off a few hours ago, writing about how miserable I am because of the upcoming corperate holiday. Shortly after, I realised that people have real problems.

I have a hunger
That can never be touched.
Everything ever
Is never enough.

So, my brother crashed his car today. Apparently if it wasn't for magical air bags, he'd be in the same state as the car. I want to give him hundreds of hugs. My dad was talking about a guy at his work who lost his son in a car accident just 3 months ago. His son was the same age as my brother. I don't really want to be in a car again... Atleast, not until there is no ice.

I don't know how I feel right now.

Igloo.

Look. Rummage. Find. Prepair. Strike. Slash. Wait... Drip, drip, drip. Clean. Wipe. Done.

Few are those who see with their own eyes and feel with their own hearts.

I'm not well. Not well at all. I haven't been for a long time.

You know, it was a year ago. A whole friggin' year back. A year ago last Thursday. I didn't realise how long it dragged on for. I feel bad for how easily I've forgot you. I don't remember what you sound like, look like anymore. I can't remember... Remember that time in Portugal, you walked into the glass door because you thought it was open? Yeah, that was good.

She Deals In Witchcraft.

One kiss and I'm zapped. Frankenstein and Dracula have nothing on you. Jekyll and Hyde; join the back of the queue. The female of the species is more deadly than the male.

New favourite song, anyone?

I'm in a weird place right now.

Need.
More.
Drink.

Days Without Paracetamol.

Does it always rain when I don't want it do? Why do I never realise shots are a bad idea until 12 hours later? When will there be a day that can pass without me biting my nails?

I want someone to make everything perfect because I don't know how.

Underground.

My head is pounding, I can't stop the pounding. I think it is going to explode and kill everybody who's in close proximity to the place I call my home. And they'll make a moving made-for-tv movie for Life Time all about my life that ends with an epitaph, one that will make you laugh, that says "great mom, okay wife". And it'll be funny to the people who know me, who know if my body's not burned. My soul will spend an eternity in misery, tethered and bound to this earth. So I'm not a dick or a stick in the mud, always ruining things for my friends. I mustn't forget when I see the sun set that tomorrow it will rise again.

So I tattoo instructions on my ass that say "Don't ever put this body in a casket. Burn it and put the ashes in a basket and throw them in the Puget Sound... I don't ever want to be under ground".

I wearing size thirteen basketball shoes and laugh at your fishnets. I'm freaked out and fucked up and I'm standing alone in an alley with you, wanting to show you a cure for your hiccups but instead I close my eyes. The needles are numbered so I'm writing you letters and I cannot disguise the fact that I'm nervous when we are together. So I fantasizethat the nights will get shorter and the days will get better. I feel a kick inside and decide, if this is a girl I'm naming her Heather. She'll look just like you but her hair will be feathered. She'll say how you died before you ever met her... Her hair will be feathered.

My head is pounding, I can't stop the pounding. I think it is going to explode. There are plus and minuses to sinuitus like sometimes I get to go home. Mostly it hurts so bad I think I'm dying. I just blew my nose and now I feel like crying and the dreams that I have are all of my past lives and the seizures would paralyze me in the night and I wake up clutching my teddy bear tight. I'm drooling and trying to turn on the light. All I can do is hold fast and sit tight but what if they forget 'cause you know they just might.

So I tattoo instructions on my ass that say "Don't ever put this body in a casket. Burn it and put the ashes in a basket and throw them in the Puget Sound. I don't ever want to be under ground."

This Is For Real.

I almost asked you, just then, "Would you still love me if I was fat?" but had a mini-heart break when I realised that there isn't really 'love' between us these days.

But whatever's come to pass, I hope that you like me are sure that the love was always real and the intention always pure. Yeah, whatever people tell you, no, they'll never love you more. It's just I wish I knew to love you right before. - Kate Tempest.

We Are The Power Troopers.

You, I miss you. Well, I don't really. It's not a feeling that's strong. Just, it nips at me.

You surprise me. Just when I think we're friends purely because our friends are friends, you surprise me with an interest in something that I also share. Isn't that great? We don't hang out or anything, but we can. I just dislike the silence we have to be put through, sometimes.

You're a bit confusing. I don;t think you're all you with us. Then again, who really is?

We Wont Back Down From Anything.

In search of a remedy.

So. So what? I so don't care anymore. How so? I think I stopped caring when you oh-so simply decided to wipe me from your life. Why so? I'm so fighting fire with fire. You've decided that this is so what you want to do, what you think is so the right decision to make. Isn't that so selfish of you? You obviously didn't take me into account when you so easily came to the conclusion, when you decided what the next step is.

Didn't you think that I might disagree? Didn't you think I'd like to talk about things? Attempt to come to some sort of compromise. Didn't it cross your mind, not once, that I might not be cool with all this?

Y'know what? It doesn't matter. The matter of the fact is I so didn't matter.
It's not me, it's you, in the true sense of the cliche. I could have been anyone, any girl that wanted to befriend you. You'd be the same person with the same problem. I bet you the same thing will happen again.

I'm living proof that some girls don't talk to men just to get in their pants. Some of us are nice. I hate that I'm this. I want to live up to expectations.

It's Like This.

You're born, you're free. Everything is nice, the world loves you. You live, it's difficult. Things are good and things are bad but you learn, that's the point. You die, everyone remembers you and the things you've done. It doesn;t take long for the world to forget who you are, then you're gone without a trace, atleast try and leave something behind.

I am constantly changing. I am nothing like I used to be, then again, I don't even know what I used to be like. Things used to be so simple, or atleast I remember them being simple. These days, I can't seem to get through one day without doing something wrong. Maybe I'm just being adolescent but I'd kill to go 5 years froward in time, just to skip all the nonsense I have to go through just to get there.

Hey, remember the times when we'd sing to each other? We'd scream "live's one big party when you're still young, but who's gonna have your back when it's all done?" at the top of our lungs. Now all I could sing to you is "Your used to wearing less and now your life's a mess, so insecure, you see. Take a look at my face for the last time, I never knew you, you never knew me, say hello, goodbye."

Are You Sad?

Not 'sad', but SAD.

Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) is just the winter blues. I never really believed that something like a sudden weather change should effect people but obviously I am wrong. When suffering from SAD, most people get short tempered, have no motivation, very low energy levels and mild depression. Jeezy creezy. One in twenty people suffer from the 'illness' and women are three times more likely to feel the effects of SAD during the next few months.

The internet has given me some tips to beat the winter blues!

Exercise!
Ofcourse, exercise is the cure for everything these days. Personally, I'm doung pretty well without it. The walk to the train station is enough for me. Alas, all the doctors and such think otherwise. It has been proven that exercise can combat depression better than antidepressants. Mind boggling stuff, isn't it? All them endorphins you get when you exercise make you happy!

Healthy Eating.
These tips are just a big list of things I don't do and never will, if the next one is rubbish, I give up! So, 5 a day and all that, I see. Aha, I see what I've been doing wrong; "The one thing you must not do is give in to comfort cravings, so step away from the carbohydrates and trans fats!" But there will never be a day when I'm sat in my bed, feeling miserable and sorry for myself, and think to myself, "Ah, I know what I need right now, an apple."... Yeah, right. Oily fish? Hell no, I've never ate a fish in my life, that'll only make me feel worse. Fruit? Maybe, a a push. Vegetables? No, just no. Nuts and seeds? Um... moving on.

Avoid Illness.
I have a pretty crappy immune system as it is. When I'm feeling lousy, I'm probably more likely to catch a cold. "Echinacea is brilliant at keeping out cold and flu, so take a course of this for a couple of weeks and you should stay bright as a button." I don't even know what that is... but now that I do, I'll keep that in mind.

Beat SAD.
This one isn't very clear, it just explains what SAD is... Doesn't take a genius. Basically, it's because of it being so dark all of the time! Lack of light increases the hormone melatonin and this makes us all sleep and decreases 'serotonin' which apparently makes us happy.
sad.org.uk has told me that symptoms of SAD are lethargy, irritability, depression, cravings for unhealthy foos, sleep problems and loss of libido... I think I'm suffering from constant SAD, this sounds like me every day of the year. It's then told me I can get my doctor to give me some antidepressants or some weird thing called a 'lightbox'... I bet it's like the ones in the graphics department. A lightbox will "replace summertime levels of sunlight and alleviate your syptoms"... What a load of nonsence.

Avoid Alcohol.
What do you think I am, an idiot? We all no that alcohol is a depressant, so surely it goes without saying? Although, everyone does do their fair share of drinking around Christmas and New Years. Avoiding the drinks is probably easier said than done.

Get Some Sleep.
This is the first of all the points that I can actually do! Apparently a regular sleep pattern is very important. Seven or eight hours of sleep a night (something I certainly do not do) and trying to go to bed and get out of bed at the same times should help shrug off the SAD. "If you feel down during the day, allow yourself a 30-minute power nap. If anyone asks, blame it on the SAD!" Would you look at that, everyone can be funny on the internet. No, really, I tried taking a nap the other day and it did make me feel a bit better.

There's loads of other ones, meditating and herbal stuff... Load of rubbish if you ask me. One of them actually says "talk to someone"! Why wouldn't you? I guess not everyone is like me and talks to people 24/7.

I still have a funny feeling that SAD doesn't exist and people are just looking for excuses to stay in bed. Until you have a doctor tell you that you've suffering from SAD, then I don't believe you! Now, get back to work and make me some coffee.

No Offence.

Window displays are full of lies. Lies, I tell you!

Every woman can probably sympathise with me when I say; I hate them. The mannequins, with their manufactured, perfect poses. You know (and I certainly know) we will never look half as good as the mannequin does. Sure, you can buy every inch of what they've dressed it up in, go all out and get a wig too, they're still plastic and perfect.

Maybe I can fill you in on something. Psst, girls... You will never be happy with the way you look. I know, it's tough but that's the way things are, apparently.

Personally, I blame media pressure but that can't be all to blame. It's up to you, as a woman, to shrug off such typical stereotypes. I believe myself to be a head strong female that refuses to be told how she should look but, obviously, not every other female is like me.

Did you know that by age 18, women cry four times as much as men. Another interesting fact, twenty-five years ago, the average female model weighed 8% less than the average American woman where as, these days, the average female model weighs 23% below her average weight.

There was a study a good few years ago on Saturday morning tv adverts, you know, the ones between the kids programmes that give it all "BUY THIS 'CAUSE IT'LL MAKE YOU COOL!". Basically, they sat and watched the adverts for a weeks and analysed them. What did they find? Well, 50% of the cadverts aimed at girls spoke about physical attractiveness, where as none of the adverts aimed at boys refered appearance. Something I've never thought about before, girls toys are all about putting on make up, wearing nice clothes and doing your hair. Boys toys are quite violent... which might explain alot. This just shows that media pressure can start effecting girls when they are really young.

75% of "normal" weight women think they are overweight and 90% of women overestimate their body size... Something that I can confirm is true. I haven't been on scales in years, but whenever I did step on them, I was always pleasantly surprised.

When You Came In, The Air Went Out.

You know it's time for a blog when all you can do is cry and wish it was the weekend again.

This is the 200th.

I miss you. Alot. We weren't even that close. You were always closer with the boys, even my mum said so. She always spoke about how her two bothers got 'special treatment' where as her and her sisters were always kind of second best. I always just assumed that's the way of a man of your generation, like the whole fiasco when we were told that my cousin is gay. We didn;t get to meet his partner (who he has been with for a year) because you did not approve. No one would have had the balls to tell you that your views were as dated as you were. God, I hate saying that, "as you were".
It still hasn't sunk in. It's been almost 3 months and still, I don't believe it. The hardest thing is when I remember you in the hospital, you couldn't move or talk. I was the only one that didn;t cry. I think, if you could have told me at the time, you would have been proud of me for being so strong. You were never one for letting your emotions get the better of you. I'm just glad you can't see me now. Well, no, that's wrong. I'd love for you to see me now. I think I'll go and see you soon.
You're just the kind of man that I'd expect to live forever.
I only saw you once after that time I visited in the hospital. You were excellent when I saw you, you were up, walking mumbling away. You noticed that my jumper had a big cross on it and gave me a big thumbs up, you thought it was like the scottish flag. God, there I go with the past tense again. This is actually killing me.

But all I can think, is if this is how horrible I feel, my Mum, my Gran must feel a thousand times worse.

Is there not a point where people 'move on' and all that lark? When does that happen? What do I need to do? 'Cause I've sat with the photo albums out, I've done the crying on end, I've reminiced. What am I meant to do to get all of this out of my system?

I am sick of acting like it's not a problem, sick of stupid 'one to one' sessions with stupid tutors that know fuck all, sick of "I'm sorry for your loss"s and "I know how you feel"s. I just want it all to go away. Make it go away.

I don't even know anything anymore. I'm sure this is normal but it can't be.

This Way, That Way.

Songs of desperation, I played them for you. A moment, a love, a dream, aloud, a kiss, a cry. Our rights, our wrongs. So stay there, 'cause I'll be coming over while our blood's still young, it's so young, it runs. And won't stop 'til it's over, won't stop to surrender.