August. Summer. Lemonade. Travelling. Friends. Sun. Laughter. I swam and smiled and loved throughout the whole of August.
For me August became a month filled with so much love, so much self-love, and I’ll make a whole post about it soon. I stepped out of my comfort zone. I went swimming, me! I swam, in front of people, in a swimming costume. I felt so naked and exposed and it terrified me. I tried on clothes and didn’t sob at my reflection. I’ve loved living in my skin this August.
This month I got to visit some beautiful places. Brighton. Brighton was such a young city, everything was alive. I loved it there. There were so many pride rainbows, it made me happy. I ate ice cream on the beach with my friend and walked through the small streets. We window-shopped and drank tea in small coffee shops, it was nice.
Back home I went to see a small band with a group of people I didn’t know too well, and made new friends. I also caught up with old ones and we oozed with so much spontaneity that my heart was beating the whole time we were all together. Impromptu train rides to the city,and late hazy nights. Card games and movies.
I truly loved August, and I’ll come to miss it. But right now I’m too busy falling in love with September.
(P.S. I’ll do something similar at the end of every month as I plan to do a two page scrap-book spread for each month, as seen below, but do bear with me as I’m not the best at scrap-booking, nor am I very good at keeping to plans)
Grey is empty. Grey is deeper than sad; it’s worse than sad. It’s thunderstorms, but it isn’t, it’s clouds and bitter winds. It’s the aftermath of red, it’s the smoke and ash of fire. It’s the ache in your chest, and that’s all you are, that’s all you feel. If you feel anything at all that is. Grey is laying in bed with cold sheets. It’s having no energy. Grey is what you feel when you can’t feel. It’s not being able to cry and wanting to. It’s craving more than missing. It’s not showering and not eating. It’s everything and nothing, it’s the fog surrounding your brain. Grey is numb, hollow. It’s the cold in your fingers and toes. But don’t worry, grey is never the end.
Hello again, it’s been a while and a lot has happened in the last three months. And if anyone sees this or remembers me I want you to know that I’ll be back posting again.
These past few months have been both the best and worst in a while. The reason for this being the fact I feel so discontent with everything I’m doing, everything that is happening. I feel very empty. I feel I no longer have anything interesting to say, I’m just a voice screaming among many others. This frustrates me and makes me scream louder. I’m a loud nothing and that makes me sad. I also suck at writing and creating, mainly because of my nothingness. This is a big reason why I haven’t written on here in a while.
This dilemma however, has given way to a hidden spark of determination within myself. With this spark came a lot of light which helped to fill the empty space inside my body. I want to be better person. I want to smile more, listen more, walk more, and indulge more. I want to learn new things and change my perspective. I feel opening my mind, widening my opinions and allowing criticism may help with my screaming. I’m holding on for the day the nothing turns into something.
Red is the way fire feels. It’s the colour of love. It’s the colour of your cheeks when you’re with them. It’s the colour of your lips. It’s the burning feeling they give you in your veins. It’s the flowers with the thorns. It’s also the taste in your mouth when they punch you in the face. It’s the colour they scream at you, the colour of their words when they’re angry.It’s the colour of heat, love and hatred. Red is extreme. Fast and furious. You don’t cuddle to red, because red isn’t safe. It’s violent and painful. Red makes you wonder why it was ever the symbol of love, because red hurts and love shouldn’t hurt. Red was your whole relationship, red was all you felt, up until they left, red wasn’t the colour you felt when they left.
Stress. Stress. Stress. That’s all I’ve felt for the last few months. Stress mixed with raging anxiety, the kind that hits you right in the chest, takes all the wind out of your lungs, as you know that you’re never going to succeed because you’re so unmotivated you regret waking up, because you’re once again conscious and responsible for your actions.
I have exams soon. Soon as in 3 weeks. 3 weeks to revise everything I’ve learnt in the past 7 months. And what am I doing? Baring in mind, I have two speaking assessments to learn for two separate languages in one week. I’m here. I haven’t been here in weeks, I’m sorry about that, but as you can tell, I’ve had a lot of self loathing and self pitying to cram into my tight scheduled (which consists of nothing but the refusal to do work).
And I do this to myself. I really do. I just sit. And I don’t sit because I’m lazy. I want to do my work, and have motivation and pass all my exams. I like learning and being productive. I hate waking up at noon and sitting in my pyjamas for the remainder of the day, wasting my weekends.
Again I’m sorry for abandoning this blog, I doubt anyone remembers me, but I promise to try harder, make posts that I’m proud of, I’m actually working on something I hope will be as cool as I’m picturing it being.
Anywho, I’m going to go, do nothing, avoid the surplus of essays, revision and homework piled on my bedroom floor.
Well is it? I don’t know. Is it normal to feel all your insides hurt all at once? To feel your lungs deflate and your knees shake? Is it normal to hate yourself so much that you don’t want to be near yourself? And to feel so incredibly lonely while laughing with a group of people? To sleep for 13 hours a day and still feel exhausted? Is it normal to cry for no reason? Or to feel an ache constantly in the pit of your stomach, like you’re about to be sick? Is it normal? Is any of this normal? Because I’m sick of feeling like this. I’m sick of the stress of my schoolwork, and I’m sick of my friends who don’t ever seem interested in what I have to say or what I feel. I’m sick of seeing my reflection and I’m sick to death of my parents who ignore me, and get annoyed at me when I’m trying to be myself. Have I broken down or am I just, broken? Am I normal? Am I just a teenager? You tell me.
(P.S sorry for my in-activeness, I’ll try harder)
Appreciate the small things. Appreciate every sunrise and every sunset. Do not take smiles off strangers for granted. Treasure every second you spend with your loved ones. Admire every piece of art you come across, take in every brush stroke, lyric and poem line. Remember it is by sheer luck that you can experience these things. Remember that all the small things are what colour in an otherwise colourless world. Appreciate laughter, good coffee and flowers. Relax, all the small things, in the end, will equate to so much more than your worries. And in the end, the small things aren’t very small at all, the small things are all we are. We are just clumps of memories, dreams and stargazing, don’t forget that.
(P.S. here’s a gorgeous sunset that I had the pleasure of watching, remember guys, it’s the small things that matter in the end.)
“Sunsets: perhaps the most beautiful pieces of art.”