Tuesday, 29 October 2013

Puzzle Pieces

To those of you who read my blog, I know I compare life to objects a lot and this is going to be aother post similar to those. In this particular post I am going to refer to life as a puzzle. Everything and everyone in our lives, every misfortune and opportunity that comes our way is just a puzzle piece. They may not be a piece of our puzzle but a piece none the less.

Life is like a container filled with billions of puzzles pieces. Our purpose is to find all the pieces of the particular puzzle within that container that is ours and make the picture, make the life. Not every piece fits in this puzzle though even if it looks like it does.

High school is like trying to put together the sky in a puzzle. All the pieces look exactly the same but its hard to get them to fit just right. A lot of the time we put pieces in the wrong place or try to force pieces that dont belong and make them fit because it looks right, but it's not and sometimes you need to stop forcing a piece. I think we need to accept that not every piece is going to fit into our puzzle. We need to let it go and be a perfect fit in someone else's puzzle.

"Sometimes things fall apart so that better things can come together" - Marilyn Monroe

Tuesday, 15 October 2013

We Can Be Heroes

I do not know why but in the past year, I have experienced what I would regard as emotional highs and lows. I often try to stick to being bland and boring and quiet because it means that my emotions remain quite average but sometimes I get happy and have a really good day and so about an hour after that I hit what I would regard as an emotional low. One tiny little thing usually happens that normally wouldn’t even bug me makes me break down crying.

I just experienced one of those.
Today I, along with my school environment group, held a workshop at an expo for local primary schools that focused on the environment. I had a good day, was talkative, and was happy around my friends and then I got home and I got some major test results back and went amazingly, which added to my good mood. The thing that made me break down was my persuasive writing results. Along with reading, spelling, language conventions, and numeracy, I got well above the nations average in these tests, persuasive writing, which is normally my best subject, I got the lowest mark on. What set me off was my dad just saying that he thought I was good at persuasive writing, which I am.
The subject of the essay was that we had to choose someone who we regarded as a hero and write why they should receive an award. I spent about 30 minutes of the time we had sitting and thinking about this question. I went badly because I don’t have a hero and even though I chose a friend of mine who I thought was admirable, I didn’t think of her as a hero because I don’t have a hero. I do not think that anyone should be your hero but yourself.
Some people may think this opinion is stupid, that we should all aspire to be like someone, whether that be someone like our parents, an Olympic athlete, an actor, a member of parliament, I don’t. I used to have a hero and they let me down.
When I was 4 years old, my hero was Dr Harry. Dr Harry is a vet who now is most commonly known for his section on animal care and tips on the television show Better Homes and Gardens. I had colouring in books, picture books, sticker books, and posters of Dr Harry. When I grew up I wanted to be just like him, I wanted to be a vet and take care of animals but at a meet and greet at a local gardening centre where he was being an ambassador for his television show, when my parents tried to tell him about how much I, a four year old girl, thought of him as a hero, he hardly acknowledged their existence. Then I found a new hero, Steve Irwin, who was a very famous wildlife handler and zookeeper. When I was eight years old, he died.
From a young age I have learnt that, it is pointless to have heroes because they will disappoint you, or will die. You should be your own hero and try to make yourself the sort of person that you would admire. The best reason for being your own hero though is that there is no one there to let you down and be a disappointment, it is all on you. You decide what you want to do and if you want to let yourself down.
That is the core reason why I broke down today, because of the concept of heroes and letting yourself down. I did not stick to what I believe in. In that essay I should have just wrote why I believe we should not have a hero instead of just writing about how much I admire my friend. I let myself down.

Friday, 6 September 2013

Pinch pots and life

Over the past few weeks in art we have been making various things, including a Dragon, Bird and carved trinket box from clay. 

Today whilst working on my trinket box I was getting frustrated as my pinch pots kept collapsing and when I put them together it was never the right shape either and so my anger and frustration at the situation, which by taking care in what I was doing instead of rushing could have been resolved, was instead ruined numerous times by myself accidentally putting a finger through or causing the shape to collapse. 

After talking to my teacher about how I just couldn't do it he said to me "the clay is alive beneath your fingers, it is a part of the earth and so is alive and because it is alive it can feel when you don't love it and are not taking care with it. So if you are angry or upset, no matter how hard you try, the clay will never work for you. But if you are kind to the clay and if you love it, it will love you too". 

I think this not only refers to art but life in general. We are all pinch pots. We all start out as a perfectly round and smooth ball of clay. Then we are prodded and pinched and are slowly moulded into shape throughout our lives and smoother until we are a "perfect" pinch pot. Even when we are the right shape though we still may have uneven amounts of clay and thin sections of clay and our insides may not be smooth but  it's as perfect as we need the pinch pot to be. 

In life though, whilst forming ourselves, the pinch pots, if we are angry or frustrated we ruin what we have created and so the moral of this I guess it that you must find patience and calm  within yourself, an inner harmony of sorts before you can begin to mould yourself other wise it (life, or any situation) will turn into a shamozel. Love the clay and the clay will love you. Love life and life will live you. Love yourself and life will change from being a lump of clay into something beautiful. 

Monday, 12 August 2013

Reclusive behavior

I've become a bit of a recluse lately. I've been wanting to be alone all the time. All I have been doing lately is sitting in my room and watching movies. Today is Monday week 5 and I've already had 7 days off school. I don't like being there and having all these expectations that I'm supposed to fill. I'm constantly being judged and stereotyped and I just want it all to end.

I used to love going to school because it was an escape from home, but now I'm running from both home and school and the only time I between is the 10 minute walk home from the bus stop. 5 if which I am with a friend, the other 5 is my alone time where I have no responsibility and can just think and be with myself. Those 10 minutes is the best part of everyday.

In my fight to get away I left a friend behind and I wish I didn't. She is one of the most important people in my life and on of the very few people I actually care about. The self pity and frustration and anger and stupidity I feel towards myself kind of tuck themselves away at the back of my mind most of the time but when we talk and I'm with her, her humility and sense of moral make me envy the sort of person she is, the sort of person I wish I was. It makes me realize the sort of person I really am and I've been avoiding her because I want to avoid knowing who I really am and I'm so sorry for that. I've basically pushed her from my life because of selfish reasons and she doesn't deserve to be treated like that and to be friends with someone like me.

I think that Emilia is the person I regret pushing away the most. I've pushed everyone away lately though, not just her. I guess I just don't want to be happy and people caring for me scares me, and so I question their motives to the point where it's too much of a hassle to continue being my friend.

I think it would be best if I could just go away for a while sometimes, to run and escape and be able to sit somewhere and look out across the ocean and know how truly insignificant I am and how I don't matter, I'm a speck. Most people won't remember me in years to come and I will go from being the best friend to someone their parents mention every now and then when talking about their childhood, to being that girl thats just there in the photograph that your grandparents are showing you and they can't exactly recall who you are. Eventually though you will just become another tombstone in another graveyard and one day in a few hundred years time when historians discover your remains they'll wonder who you are and what you were like, but no one will know. You will be forgotten just as easily as everyone else that briefly occupies this planet, and that's alright, because in that moment, staring out across the ocean, I will not only feel insignificant, but standing there, looking out as far as the eye can see, I will feel as if I'm on top of the world and that nothing can hurt me.

 In that moment I will be infinite.

Saturday, 10 August 2013


To me, paradise is somewhere away from the prying eyes of society where I don't have to pretend to be someone I'm not. I feel as if I spend every single day pretending to be someone else, and acting differently around every single person and it has gotten to the point where I don't know when I'm pretending anymore. It's all just one blurred lie.

I'm lost, I really am. I don't know where I'm going or who I am. I don't know what I'm doing with my life and I don't know what I am doing with myself at the moment. I thought I had these friends that I  didn't need to pretend around but I do. I've been lying to everyone around me and pushing everyone away and becoming a secluse. I've changed and I thought it was for the good but in not so sure. I've just changed and my insides are turning darker and all I feel is anger.

I was recently told this story of how within ourselves there are two wolves which are at war with eachother. One of these wolves is good, the other evil. The good wolf is fueled by love and humility. The other wolf is fueled by hatred and anger. The decisions we make decide how strong each of the wolves is and therefore deciding which wolf is victorious over the other. The decisions we make determine the outcome of this battle and right now, the wolf inside of me that is winning is angry and strong.

I wish I had the strength to run and never look back. To use the strength and power of that wolf to my own benefit. I wish I could just take hold and pull myself onto his back with my arms tightly wrapped around his neck and then close my eyes and know that everything was going to be alright now. But it isn't alright and I'm not strong and I can't run and that scares me.

Tuesday, 30 July 2013

Spontaneous breakdowns

I had a spontaneous break down in maths today, and it wasn't because of the equations, well partly. I just feel so stupid sometimes and especially in maths because being in the top class, everyone is just really smart and last year I was one of those people and was quite good at mathematics but this year I've just continued to go down hill. I think that this breakdown was put into action because of that feeling of being stupid and because I have this unresolved build up of emotions and just everything that has been going on in my life lately.

I want to be happy again. I haven't been happy in a very long time now and I don't like having these random outbursts in class. I've been trying to take the negativity out of my life but it just isn't working and I'm as sad as ever at the moment.

Monday, 29 July 2013

Feeling disheartened

So Michael messaged me about half an hour ago. It's the first time we have exchanged any form of communication since he started dating my ex-best friend again 2 weeks ago, which is forever for us, considering we used to talk everyday. This is actually so pathetic, 2 weeks, such a long time, but it has felt like a lifetime.

He has messaged me about 20 times now, most of them being minute long voice messages and I'm unsure what I am going to do. He is pleading with me to talk to him and saying he made a mistake and that he knows now he didn't really love her and that he dumped her but that doesn't really change anything that has happened and I don't think I could ever trust him ever again.

When he messaged me though, my heart literally jumped and I wish he didn't still have that effect on me. I wish I could just let go and forget but it's hard, especially when he has decided he wants to still be in my life.

The thing is, if he said to me that he is sorry and he misses me, I would go back without hesitation and I don't want to be that person. I don't want to be the girl that goes crawling back to a guy that has smushed her heart into a million pieces again and again. I still might though and that worries me. I've had these weird pins and needles ever since he started talking to me again and I wish I didn't because that just means that I still love him and I shouldn't love him. He should mean nothing to me, he is just a guy, nothing special but I can't shake this feeling. I just want him to stop or for me to wake up right now and realise this has just been all in my head because I can't deal with this right now.

I wish I wasn't weak and could resist him and I'm trying and I need someone like Emilia to be online right now and tell me "don't give in, you're stronger than this" and for me to smile and know that she is right and that he will leave me alone soon enough but she isn't online and I can't sleep so I'm going to continue to be broken for a little while now. Life sucks sometimes.

Friday, 26 July 2013

Who you are

When I was about 4 years old my favorite colour was blue because that was the colour of my eyes. Then when I moved into a new house my bedroom had pink walls and so everything I was given was always pink to match my room. When I was about 11 years old I decided my favorite colour was blue  again because even though my room may have been pink and a lot of things I owned were pink, I actually really didn't like that colour.

I think that was a defining moment for me. I wish I knew what I would have been like as a person without being sculpted by the people around me, whether that be family or friends, or even society in general. There is this girl in my year at school, and although this will sound mean, she is overweight and has greasy hair, a terrible laugh and isn't exactly what people would call "pretty" but although physically she may not be attractive, she is an amazingly loyal friend to those around her and people do often say terrible things either about or to her but she continues to be possibly the happiest person I have ever met and it makes me happy knowing that she is happy with who she is and just doesn't care what other people think, which is becoming an extremely rare quality.

Unlike her, i'm not exactly happy with the person I am, but at least I'm not the person I'm not. If that makes sense. Simply I would prefer to be who I am at the moment than the person that I'm not, because I don't think I would like that person very much. I wish I did know the sort of person I would have been if society hadn't have meddled, but really it wouldn't have mattered.

Monday, 22 July 2013


Sometimes I'm sad, especially when I'm looking out a window. I think they make me sad because I wish life was as simple as it is when you're looking out a window. There is something magical about windows. When looking out them you feel as if time stands still and nothing else matters. It's as if the world is at your fingertips, if just for a moment. The world moves past so quickly but inside you're at a standstill. I think that's a good representation of life. We can stand still but the world will continue to fly past us.

I always over think when I look out windows. Normally I would have other things that'll be occupying my time and so absorbing my thinking capacity, but on a bus looking out a window, that's when I sit and think and all my emotions run wild. I think about friends and family, and moments in time, and the past, and where I am going in life, and maths homework that I don't want to do, and its all just too much sometimes.

You don't ever seem to look in windows though. Why is that? Why do we look out but not in? I'm not entirely sure...

Wednesday, 17 July 2013

A not so broken heart

I used to be in love with a boy, no surprise there for a 14 year old girl. Well I thought I was in love, but what is love? A chemical reaction of the brain? An instinct? An attraction? Love is what we want it to be.

Sometimes I think I get too deep in my own imagination, as if I have dived straight into myself, searching for something that I don't have the slightest clue as to what it may be. I think I was looking for someone to love though, because how else did I imagine this wonderful person where they weren't. I simply fell in love with my own imagination. I think that is why I have let go so easily, because I know now that I didn't really love him, just the idea. Ideas are terrible things. They take over your body and mind, make you do stupid things. They nestle themselves deep within you, causing yourself to go mad. An idea, unlike many things cannot be stopped, just subdued.
My friend asked me why I was not angry at this boy who temporarily broke my heart. Why I did not hate him and shout ugly things, for he was the bad guy, and I treated him as if he was the one that had charged in on a white steed, silver armour glimmering in the sunlight, and saved the damsel and the kingdom with a single strike of his sword. That of course is not true. I didn't treat him that way. The truth is he was neither a good guy nor bad guy. None of us were the good guys, there are no good guys and bad guys in that situation, and there is just love. Love that was being thrown around so easily that of course someone was going to be hurt.

I was the one that got hurt though. At the time I was definitely sad. I cared a lot about him, but the truth is I may have known about him, but I didn't know who he was. I knew what his favourite colour was and what team he supported and his favourite food and all those pointless little things that teachers normally ask the class on the first day as to help them all to make friends by finding things in common, but he rarely opened up to me. Every now and then he would be upset and angry at his dad or step mum or siblings and would vent to me but that was a very rare thing indeed.
I used to think that I wouldn't be able to cope without him. I thought of him as a detox and someone that would make me happy even when I’m sad, but since things went ugly and we don't talk anymore, there has been this strange feeling of enlightenment and as if some sort of weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

I knew he would hurt me and that I would cry over him, but rose coloured glasses have just happened to become my favourite accessory, whether I want them to be or not. I don't mind that this boy is no longer in my life.  I will find someone one day and I knew it wasn't going to be him and that he would hurt me in the end but you can always hope.

Tuesday, 16 July 2013

Welcome to the life of me

I don’t know what I’m doing here. I don’t know what I am going to write about and I don’t even know who I am. All I do know is that I am a 14 year old girl and I want to escape from reality, and I’m not a suicidal attention seeking twelvie either. I just need to vent.

So that is what this blog is going to be about. Not a fashion advice page, or talking about music or movies or talking about spectacular places around the world. This blog is about my life. What I am thinking, what I am feeling and just everything in between. So welcome to the life of me.