Points To Be Made.

First of all, no one ever went on 'breaks' until Ross and Rachel did it.

It's only just hit me, this week, I'm giving up alot of what I want to do for the one thing I want to do the most. Sure, I really want to end up working in a school, sure, kids are great fun and I'd really enjoy that enviroment. Being run off my feet every day and going home with a headache night, my idea of a day well spent. If I want to do this, I've got to give up alot.

I need to get a normal hair cut, not that I don't have one already though, it just means that I can't do what I want with my hair. I want to dye it bright orange and I want to shave off the sides and I want to put my dreads back in but I can't. I can't wear my silly make up, I can't get more peircings, I can't get any obvious tattoos.

It's just starting to register that I'm going to miss out on all of this. I don't want to end up doing all this, getting metal and ink, when I'm older. I don't want to be that weird old lady. It's a bit mroe acceptable at this age.

But I don't want to find something else, I enjoy working with kids.

Don't you just hate the way things work out?

This Picture, Picture This.

So I'm waiting in George Square for a friend that never turned up. I say, "Be there between 1 and 2, and if you're not there then I'll just head home." but I didn't have a watch anyway. I've got my starbucks that I bought on the way and some cigarettes, so I don't look half as out of place as I felt. Waiting on people is something I do not like doing, it's boring and no fun, a waste of time. Time I could be spending with other people that arrive when they say they will.

So I'm sitting on the concrete ledge, all of the benches had disapeared because it was amry blah day, trying to swiftly take my jumper off but not burn a hole though it with my cigarette when I notice the man leaning on the bin pointing a big angry camera at me. Ignore it, it's Glasgow, it happens. Finished cigarette, I didn;t want to risk a nasty fine so I headed over to the bin to stub it out. He gave me a kind of friendly look but also looked as if he was expecting me to say something. I did, "Hey, sorry, just stubbing this out.", followed by a "Did you take a picture of me?".

I spent roughly an hour talking to The Man With The Camera, he was polite enough to make me look like I hadn't been stood up. I did not catch his name or email, I should have asked for his Flickr user name but I'm useless with these things.

He took a picture of me at the bin looking very nervous and another of my gulping coffee. Not a good look. He took more than 700 pictures that day. I decided I'll leave it a few days and search flicker for the pictures, I vividly remember one of them. It's a very grumpy old man in his uniform, black and white, head shot, very nice.

I find it weird that this was probably the best part of my week. I need to aproach strangers more often, especially strangers with cameras.

Love Is All.

Love is all,
The laughter and the tears that fall.

I'm not sure where I'm headed with this, but just go with it.

Merriam-Webster's dictionary defines love as, "strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties," and defines lust as, "an intense longing". Kinship or personal ties, things in common ans that. I'd imagine that a couple 'in love' would do cute, silly things like play tennis together or gardening, things that they both may not neccessarily enjoy but there's that kind of respect there, that one of them is willing to spend time with the person they 'love' and do something that they find mind numbingly, soul crushingly boring. All because of 'love'. People in 'love' would be willing to compromise, come to some sort of arrangement where they both do something they enjoy.

I think a lustful relationship is a bit more selfish. Lust is all about desires, and it's your desires, therefor putting your desires before your partners. People in 'love' with put their partners desires before their own, surely, where as in a lustful relationship it's not about them, more about you wanting them. The fact that they are putting their own feelings, desires before their partner is bound to lead to a very unhappy ending. Then again, when has a relationship ever had a happy one? The lustful relationship wouldn't last long, I'd imagine. Eventually the two will not find each other desirable anymore and split because there was nothing more there, the relationship was built on that desire.

In my opninion, there is no love without lust! Surley if there is, the love that you'd have is merely just friendship based? You need the lust, something to push you from being 'just friends'. The lust would be so meaningless without love. I think alot of people get the two mixed up, weither they have them or not, they're probably confusing the lust for love.

I'd much rather keep my love and my love in two separate boxes. Mixing the two will only end in tears.

Missing.

Go listen. You'll remember it, ofcourse!

Not one for words today, hate to disapoint.

I Am The Bones You Couldn't Break.

Begging You.

You don't know me anymore, atleast I think you don't. I don't feel like I know you in the slightest, we aren't what we used to be. We ussed to talk for hours, every day, we used to be inseperable.

I don't think I'm the same as I was but that happens, right? You change when you meet new people and start talking to them more often, you start to talk like them. So, maybe, when you stop talking to people you change back? Maybe. When we talk now, it's not the same. I don't change to suits you. When I'm with you, I'm just the same old me that I am with everyone else, there's no spark.

I think you're the same as the first time we met, only because none of this bothers you as much as it's been eating away at my brain. Atleast, that's what I think.

I've been reading into things on a whole different level to the way you mean them, a whole new level of paranoia. Like once, (and this is not a direct quote) you said you'd been 'just spending time with mates' or whatever, in reply to my asking what have you been upto. It just gives me the most hrrible feeling. You've been hanging out with your mates, spending time all the time with them... and you don't spend any time with me anymore. But you've been spending time with your friends, and not with me, so that means I'm not your friend. And I'm not, anymore. I'm just someone you once knew so well. Not that you ever tried to know me, I just thrusted all of my emotional fuck ups and complications in your face, assuming you'd want to hear it all.

I bet you, if I'd have known then how I feel now I wouldn't have been so quick to trust. Not that I can't trust you, I'm sure I can, I just don't want to tell you how I feel anymore.

I've never properly fallen out with a friend before, but I think that's what I need. I've drifted from my friends, that's what we're doing, and I've been okay with it but I am not okay this time. We used to be inseperable, I used to feel invincable with you. I used to have fun.

I just want my fun back. I wish I wasn't who I am.

Memories.

Every street lamp seems to beet a fatalistic warning. Someone mutters and a street lamp gutters and soon it will be morning. Daylight, I must wait for the sun rise.Ii must think of a new life and I mustant give in. When the dawn comes, tonight will be a memory too, and a new day will begin. Burnt out ends of smoky days, the stale cold smell of morning. The street lamp dies, another night is over, another day is dawning. Touch me, it's so easy to leave me all alone with the memory of my days in the sun. If you touch me, you'll understand what happiness is. Look, a new day has begun.

I've been warned that this is my last summer. After this, I'll need to get a job at the weekend, go to college during the week, have no time for fun. Wake up, it's time, we need to find a better place to hide. And you hear that these are the best days of your life. I need to use this time carefully and spend it wisely.

But I don't have the money to spend on time.

Time's a bird, which leaves its footprints at the corners of your eyes. Time's a jockey, racing horses, the sun and moon across the skies. Time's a thief, stealing your beauty, leaving you with tears and sighs, but you waste time trying to catch him, time's a bird and time just flies.

I'm not a good writer. I quote more than I right. If you want to read quote after quote, you're at the right place.

Dying To Be Thin.

http://dyingtobethin.weebly.com/

Check it out, it's worth a look.

When I dream, I dream of your lips.
When I dream, I dream of your kiss.
When I dream, I dream of your fists.

Just An Ass In The Crack On Humanity.

I am a huge manitee.

And you think you can just show up at my house, all hunkey dorey and things will be okay? You'll just knock and say "Hi! Is Heather in?" and then everything will be okay and you'll put a stop to the war. News flash, my family hate you. If my mum even sees you walking up our drive she'll go out and kill you.

I remember a faraway laugh, a sweet caress, you'd help me zip up my dress. I remember your arms around my neck, twenty one shells wrapped in a nest. Endlessness didn't last. I won't change given the chance. I remember no place for me to hide before you came home at night. I remember you turnin out the lights, all I ever saw was the red in your eyes. No big surprise, happened nearly every night. Your own flesh & blood, I did wonder why... I remember not knowing what to say and how calm you had remained, your child still born with no name. I remember the never ending summer rain. Please don't let what was get in the way of what's next. Don't forget that what's to come hasn't come yet.

You cannot fix things now, it's far too late to even bother trying. What more can you possibly want to say that hasn't already been said?

I will listen to you. I will sit outside my house and hear what you have to say, but you know that you'll just get it thrown back at you, right? You must realise now that it can't be worth it. I don't know what you're trying to achive from this, we can't be friends without falling out.

This, right now, it's working for me. I don't want you knocking on my door, trying to change it all.

150.

I'm putting as little effort into this one as possible. I was going to video record it so I didn't have to do any typing at all, then I realised I'd need to get dressed and put my face on, so that idea goes straight out of the window.

Basically, this is the equivelant to Marys Bartlettes, her book of quotations! You might recognise some of them, maybe even the majority of them. Some of them might be from songs and some might be from literature. Either way, I like them.

"They keep saying the right person will come along, I think mine got hit by a truck."

"He who tries to forget a woman, never really loved her."

"Women have a wonderful instinct about things, they can discover things except the obvious."

"A woman never forgets the men she could have had; a man, the women he couldn't."

"You want me to act like we never kissed, you want to forget; pretend we never met, and I've tried and I've tried but I haven't yet... You walk by and I fall to pieces."

"Your heart is my pinata"

"One of the hardest things in life is having words in your heart that you can't utter."

"I am so clever that sometimes I don't understand a single word of what I'm saying."

"How can a woman be expected to be happy with a man who insists on treating her as if she were a perfectly normal human being?"

"I have the simplest tastes, I am always satisfied with the best."

"After my first...
I built this suit or armor.
So strong, so invulnerable.
I came across you.
Slowly, my guard was let down.
So, so vulnerable to pain and despair.
A love so perfect, so beautiful
Was the double edged sword.
One side so sweet
So dull of worry
So full of love.
The other so sharp of worry
So deadly with confusion
So overcome of aberrancy.
They meet at the apex.
The sword was the only thing,
The only thing to pierce through the armor.
Through the mind, the soul, the heart...
The sword tears a hole
The sharpest of sides is sumb to pain,
The dull side brings a pain.
A pain so excruciating
The pain unreal the suffering so great.
This side pierces the mind, the soul, the heart...
The wound lasting and irreparable.
A pain never to leave.
A pain that allows you to live but in turn
It kills the mind, the soul, the heart
A pain that may lie dormant
Only to arise and hurt more than it ever did.
But through all doubt and suffering
The love was worth the pain.
The love so perfect so beautiful.
Was worth the pain
Was worth the death of me
Was worth losing everything I ever had.
Even if it was you that I lost."

"If you are not too long, I will wait here for you all of my life."

"Sometimes I wish that I was the weather, you'd bring me up in conversation forever, and when it rained, I'd be the talk of the day."

"Nobody can hurt me without my permission."

"A sad ting in life is that sometimes you meet someone who means alot to you, only to find out, in the end, that it was never bound to be and you just have to let go."

"I've heard it said, the trick is to set your watch when you hit the plane, that way you can tricck the workings of a tired brain. But sometimes I feel sick, sometimes I just feel so drained and cut down to the quick longing for that voice again. On the phone, you always ask if I'm okay but it's not the same as being happy.

I travelled 40,000 miles last year and I'm working on the same again. I fell for 15 different girls and nearly lost all of my friends. Well, I am jet set, jet lag, laded. You're always 16 hours ahead, quietly reminding me how I used to be.

Airports make me sad, I'm sure they shouldn't all be the same. But they're just landing pads, boring tourist shopping chains. I remember times we had, drinking while we wait for your plane, feeling kind of bad, wondering which one of us has changed. 'Cause we used to be so slick, subtle young hips, romantic young kissable lips, unbearably sharp, unbreakable hear with wide eyes and faith. That life could never pull apart if we were okay. But distance kills the best of intentions and I never intended it to be this way."

"We look at each other, wondering what the other is thinking, but we never say a thing."

"The course of love never did run smoothly."

"The love that lasts the longest is the love that is never returned."

"Only the shallow know themselves."

"The decision to kiss for the first time is the most crucial in any love story. It changes the relationship of two people much more strongly that even the final surrender; because this already has within it that surrender."

I do hope you enjoy that. It's a change from the quotes I usually dot around the posts.

Quess What?

I know you're reading this, you know who you are. You think you've got the upper hand because you know how I'm feeling.

Right back at you. I've been reading what you've been spilling from your finger tips.

It Girl.

The name; Heather Cameron.

And that will ring in your ears for decades to come. You'll remember it. You won't have a choice in the matter, you can't forget it. I'm unforgetable.

You'll remember my name and you'll remember the begining of our friendship but I doubt you'll remember any more than that. Because that's always the best part of knowing me, the first few weeks. The Getting To Know You stuff, it'll stick in your head because I made it so exciting. I fed you quotes, new and weird music, I showed you places you've seen but never really looked at. I make you see a whole new point of view.

So take to the streets with apocolypse refrain. Your devotion has the look of a lunitics gaze.

But after that it's nothing. You've got what you need, a glipse into someone elses mind. You don't need what comes after, the constant abuse being hurled at you because the girl with the name is having an off-month. You don't want that, you don't need that. You slowly separate yourself from me and that's that, the way most of them go. I won't try and get you back because I'm too proud.

So when I'm up there, in lights, rolling in cash, you'll think "Wow.", and then you'll remember that you walked away because you can't hack it. You walked away because you felt you had better things to do. If you had just put up with me for a little while longer, you could be up there with me. Now you won't.

And the name, Heather Cameron or Lyla Diamond or Delilah Vincent Debonair, whatever it is, it will be a contant reminder of the awful person that you were, tthe selfish person that you were and still are because nobody changes.

Her Morning Elegance.

She pours her daydream in a cup, a spoon of sugar sweetens up.

Even the internet likes to make fun. Everyone has a sense of humor now.

Points Of View.

I don't want part time pals. Half hearted friends.

I want people that are hanging on my every word. The kind of people that find you interesting.

Evenings.

The after hours bring out the worst in me. "A heart that hurts is a heart that works." I get the worst feeling in my stomach and my legs go slightly numb so I start to fidget. I feel uncontent most evenings. Sometimes it's not that bad, sometimes I take my mind off of it all and get right into a game of Chuzzle, ignorance is bliss.

Some nights I lash out. I sign on here, I sign on for a night of abuse. I guilt trip my friends into feeling as bad as I do, I scream and I shout until I break down. I blame them for not knowing what to do. Isn't it funny that I can look at my hands and easily just wipe the blood off, as if it's just normal now. It is just normal, now. It would have never have been before. My release. The nights are long.

The next day, I'll wake up as if yesterday had never happened. I won't need to act like nothing happened because I'll truely believe that I was just over reacting. My friends will know, they'll remember what I said and how I was acting but they won't understand why. The awkwardness will push them to forget. But the cuts, the cuts and the scratches will remind me that last night was one of the bad ones. The bumps and the bruises that will stay for the week, they will be a constant reminder for that week, that time I flipped my lid. The sting when I slouch into the bath or the throbbing pain all over.

I'll feel so much better in the morning. The sun's always out in the morning. I'll sleep in to make up for lost time. Sleeping is so difficult. I toss and I turn and it's ridiculous!

On a more positive note, I'm going to coffee with my old product design teacher. Weird.

Spare.

The days are long and the nights are longer. So much free time and the summer hasn't even started yet. Day time TV could easily push you over the line that keeps you from going insane, never ever settle down and watch some day time telly.

It's a Thursday. I didn't realise what day it is until a second ago, I had to check, I thought it was still yesterday. There's never any food on a thursday, not until after the weekly shop. No food... I'm going to be really bored. I've had three bowls of cerial. There was a fly on one of my Weetos, I fished him out. Flies are disgusting.

They're everywhere too, bugs, always in at my room because the window's always open. The heat in here is unbearable. My laptop is roasting because it's been on all day and wont be switched off for atleast another 6 hours.

All this spare time and nothing to do with it. I don't want a job though, I just want to complain. Complain about how easy everything is now. Each day used to be a challenge but now, now I have it all handed to me.

Adults.

I'm not at that age yet, the one that lets you make the rules. I'm not at the age where you follow the rules either... It's like limbo. Adolescent Limbo.

Choices, decisions. I'm getting sick of responsibility even though I don't have much of it. I have to choose weither going to the college that I was going to go to, that I've already told I'm going to, that thinks I'm going to show up after the summer... Or work at a local nursery for the next year, taking one day off each week to study, earning rougly £100 each week and a qualification at the end of the year.

Ofcourse, the second is more appealing, I get money that way but that was never the plan. I'm not even sure if it's a definate plan either! I hate uncertainty. I hate planning. I hate having to do things. I hate all of this responsibility.

I'm young and I'm free and I can't act like it.

Take The Pain Out Of Love And Then Love Wont Exist.

You were the only face I'd ever known. I was the light from the lamp on the floor, and only as bright as you wanted me to be. But I am no gentleman, I can be a prick, and I do regret more than I admit. You have been followed back to the same place I sat with you drink for drink. Take the pain out of love, and then love won't exist. Everything we had, everything we had,everything we had, everything we had is no longer there. It was the only place I'd ever known. Turned off the light on my way out the door. I will be watching wherever you go, through the eyes of a fly on the wall. You have been followed back to the same place I sat with you drink for drink. Take the pain out of love and then love won't exist. Everything we had, everything we had, everything we had, everything we had is no longer there, longer there. Well, you saw for yourself, the way it played out. For you, I am blinded. For you, I am blinded, for you. I am no gentleman, I can be a prick. And I do regret more than I admit. You have been followed back to the same place I sat with you drink for drink. Take the pain out of love, and then love won't exist. Everything we had, everything we had...

Blogspot.

I don't think it should be called that, atleast, not mine. Delilahvincentdebonair.blogspot.com? I hardly blog. These days, it's more of a confession spot, than anything. If I was to kill someone, this is the first place you would hear about it. If I wanted to tell you I love you or I hate you or I find you mildly interesting, look here, it'll all have been carefully typed out.

Last night, I knew what to say but you weren't there to hear it. These lines, so well rehearsed. Tongue tied and over loaded.

I'm not sure why I do it anymore. Maybe I'll stop? Maybe I'll tell you I've stopped, but really I'll have a spot that you don't know about. Maybe I'll get to 200 and end it.

There's nothing to say anymore. No one has anything worth writing about. Inspire me.

To Be Loved.

I am not in love, this is not my heart. I'm not going to waste these words about a girl.

Isn't it funny how you can spend time with someone and grow to love them? Yet, when they're taken from you, you just get used to them not being there.

I don't miss anyone. I guess that makes me a bad friend. Friends are meant to want you back when they're not with them. I used to be like that, but give it a few days and I couldn't really care less weither they're coming back or not.

After a while I start to hate people, for reasons unknown. It doesn't help when other people ask about where they are or what they're doing, I don't need reminded. I don't want to remember.

Because in reality, they're all so much happier than I am and I've slipped their mind. We are not best friends anymore.

To Whom It May Concern.

I don't wanna grow old, bring me all the toys you can find. You don't want to grow up, you can be my partner in crime.

Friendships are difficult. Friendships between boys and girls are hard enough, ofcourse, but when you're a jelous bitch... you're just making things harder for yourself.

The majority of us have just left school, we're all going to be losing contact and meeting new people. 'My Boys' are going to be meeting new girls. Do you know how weird this is going to be for me? I'm used to being one of the only and most important girls in their life. Girls are bitches, I know what girls are like.

I don't even know why I'm writing this. This has been bugging me forever, but there's nothing you can do to stop these things from happening. I want my friends to be happy. I do just the same, I meet boys all the time.

There is no happy medium.

Breathe Me.

Don't think about all those things you feel, just be glad to be here.

'Ten Sterling Superkings, please." You hand over money, all the change you could find in the bottom of your bag. You get ten cigarettes Ten tiny little sticks that might just result in your death. Death never tasted so good. Each one will last you roughly six minutes, that adds up to one hour of unintentional suicide. These are the same cigarettes most peoples grandparents smoke. Why? They're the only ones that aren't pricey. They have foul pictures on the packets now. Doesn't make us want to stop buying them, just encourages us not to look at what we buy.

I guess, it's the nicotine that we all love the most. Given that's the only reason we're buying more, right? Me personally, no. I hate the things, those death sticks. "You don't wanna sell me death sticks, you want to go home and re-think your life". I'm a social smoker, I'm doing it because it makes me look cool. Part of me is doing it because my friends do. Another part of me is doing it because I like the routine. The bigger past of me is doing it because I'm too lazy to give up, to refuse a fag when a friend offers it or to be in the company of smokers and not have the urge to join them.

See the feeling you get when you inhave and it hits the back of your throat? There's nothing quite like it. It tastes horrible, smells horrible and doesn't look too pleasent either, but when was love ever attractive?

Complications.

"Listen, what if I screw up this college thing on purpose... that way I can go to Berkly."
"You don't wanna do that."
"I don't want to go to Brown."
"You have to go to Brown, your dad would kill you if you didn't."
"What about us?"
"Well, we'll just pine for each other, endlessly."

Love is the drug.

Feel The Pull.

I remember very little of last year. I don't remember much before a few months ago. Things from the past, the things I like, are so vivid in my memory.

I remember 'that summer' like it was yesterday. I can tell you almost everything, down to what I was wearing on every day. I remember it all so well. That was 2006. I remember that time I told my Mum I was staying at Danielles and then we snuck out into town to go and see our boyfriends. My Mum didn't know about my boyfriend. I remember the next day, wearing black on such a hot day was ridiculous, we hid under the stairs at Craigendoran trying to be comfortable with each other. I remember everything that happened before Jake left. Anything after that is jumbled up. That summer seemed like forever, probably because I wanted it to end so much, it just seemed to drag on. I can't remember how I was when the summer ended. I can remember much after that.

I don't remember the summer after that, I don't remember 2007. I remember being single. I was dumped just a few months before hand. I think the weather was bad that year. Why the fuck can't I remember?

The weather last year was okay. I had a family holiday, I didn't want to go, more than anything. I wanted to be in Portugal, that place is my home from home. It was the only place I ever want to go. I wanted to see Jean, I wanted to be in a place I could feel comfortable. I didn't enjoy that summer much, I think. There was alot going on that year. Jake came to visit too... I actually almost forgot, that's never happened before. I think that was one of the most difficult times of my life, it was also the end of summer.

I wish this summer could be simple, like it used to be. I know it wont be though, I know I'm going to spend alot of the time complaining or curled up in my bed covers. I wish I knew what's going to happen now, so I can kick myself in the teeth sooner rather than later.

Is it because I'm growing up? Ha, growing up, who am I kidding? Getting old, that's more like it. I'm not allowed to be a silly little teenager now. Responsibility.

http://imgs.xkcd.com/comics/grownups.png

But grown ups make the rules. I must be in some sort of Limbo.

Beach Babes.

The girls. They're in their bikini tops and shorts. They're going to top up their tan and keep an eye out on the talent and the competition. The sun is out and so is the flesh. They go in groups, groups of plenty. Smokers, drinkers and drug takers; they're bound to be at least one of them, they'll have anything that's going. Next to nothing materials. Hand bags that carry more than their own body mass. Low factor sun block, just in case. Handful of magazines to pass the time. Sunglasses that dominate their faces, can't forget that. They're here to see the men, the boys that think they're men.

I am not one of these girls. Not because I don't want to be, I can't be. I'm not comfortable with these girls.

The boys. Usually wearing no more than shorts, an attept to show off that 'body' they've been working on since last summer. They're also out to top up tans, keep an eye on the competition but more importantly, the talent. They're everywhere and drinking, carrying crates of poison to a sunny spot. They're kicking a football, another attempt to sway the girls. They're having more fun that the girls though, they actually look as if they're enjoying themselves. They don't bother with sunblock and tan lines, they're more worried about the females tans.

I am not one of these boys. I don't fit with them. I don't like football or women. I hate beer.

I'm one of the ones that's staying in her room with the window open and the laptop beside her. I'm one of those kids that keeps taking their shoes off and running around on the grass. I'm the one down by the beach chasing the pathetic waves. I'm one of those people dressed in black throughout summer because they don't own any other colours. I'm chasing the shade just to keep my cool. I'm the kind that spends the majority of their money on ice lollies. I'm the type of girl that wears factor 50, in fear of having a skin tone that resembles that or a humans. I'm one of the people that wears swim suits and not bikinis. I'm one of the girls that feels better covered up.

I'm hitting all the wrong targets. I can't stand this heat.