If it isn’t already clear to those of you who have been following this blog for nearly a year now (wow) or you haven’t read anything about who I am from way back in my first post; I am an English Literature with Creative Writing graduate. For my dissertation, I had to produce a piece of creative writing with a critical commentary and I chose to start a novel. Now, the trauma of tackling something as large and important as a dissertation has meant that I have neglected this piece of writing for quite some time and I did try to return to it when I was in Barcelona but other bits of writing have gotten in the way. But here I am again, thinking about this piece that I was so excited to get to when I first started planning it out and now makes me wince a little when I remember it or look at the date I last edited it.
When it comes to travelling I normally try to go somewhere new because if I am going to put myself through the trauma of getting myself on a plane it may as well be for a place I have never been to before but sometimes holidays like that don’t feel like a holiday at all. When you land in a new city, desperate to see the sights and try out some new food, while figuring out where you are staying and generally gathering your bearings it doesn’t leave much time for relaxing in the end. Luckily, I get at least one week of R&R a year when I head to the center of France with my parents (and special guests sometimes) and proceed to eat my weight in croissants and power through as many books as possible. Continue reading Rest & Recuperation in Limousin
We are back! As I am going to France next week and will take a week off from blog writing (nothing new at the moment, let’s be honest) I thought I would throw another Inside my Diaries out so I have sufficient time to recover from the embarrassment whilst I enjoy the isolation of the French countryside. Here we go again: Continue reading Inside my Diaries: Part Four (2006-2007)
It won’t be news to any of you that I am not a theatre critic so don’t be expecting some in-depth review of the writing and the acting that I was lucky enough to enjoy on Saturday night – this is more just about the group and the evening. If you haven’t been to or heard of The Brink before its a community cafe and Liverpool’s first dry bar, which does make it’s location a little ironic as it is a stones throw away from the bulk of Liverpool’s clubs, bars and nighttime spots. Continue reading Liverpool Playwrights at The Brink
On we go to a new diary; it’s very pink, fluffy and still smelling of the perfume I covered it in because I wanted to be like Marty in Grease when she is writing the love letters to her many boyfriends. Although, it is interesting that I picked something with “Femme” written on the front when I have bought 2 t-shirts in the past month that have the same word printed on them – guess this is how you start finding your identity when you’re growing up. Despite the fact that I seemingly thought that having a more ‘sophisticated’ looking diary meant that I was much more mature now and much less embarrassing I’m afraid that this particular volume is probably going to be the worst in terms of cringe. Enjoy!
I often think about
The nettle stings on your legs
when I pushed you from my lips.
I didn’t want anyone to see us
Locked together, in love.
Even then I was afraid of what bound us
and even now
I’m still thinking about then
and your prickled calves
hands shaking but my mouth laughing
and all of my body was wrecked.
Tense and stretched from my stomach
that pull, the tether that connected us.
But now I don’t feel you
I had a completely different post planned for today but yesterday, whilst I was trying focus on my novel and working on finishing chapter 3 I found myself feeling disconnected from what I was working on. I figured it was a little useless to try to force myself to continue as it would only lead to heavy editing later on so I opened up a new word document and decided to write something that better expressed how I felt in that moment. The past few months have been strange for me, despite living here for just over 6 months now it feels somewhat closer to a year. Without getting into too many details about my personal life, a lot has happened that threw me into a bit of inner turmoil and now I am reaching the point where I am okay with processing my feelings because it always takes me a long, long, long time to feel things truly.