Simplicity

In the recent days, I have been trying to live a bit simpler; especially as  have just started a new job that can be very stressful as I work one of the busy shifts.

I haven’t been bothering with makeup, and I have been trying to be a lot more careful with my money. For example, today before I went home I searched the charity shop in town as well as the Q&S we have in search of nice clothes but unfortunately found none I wanted to buy. 

I have also been getting back into knitting and sewing and the like as I want to start making some clothes and little bits and pieces- I’m planning to buy my new needles and yarn from the market if its open (or just eBay)

I guess there is no point to this post…just mind ramblings bout life.

 

Knowing myself.

Recently I have been listening to chilled music a lot, such as Trevor Hall, to balance out the stress that has been my life for the past month-ish because of exams.

Now that I am more relaxed and my stress is gone, I can focus more on myself, which I believe to be very important. I have been pampering myself with long deep baths, taking time out to relax and read and trying to be a nicer, kinder person when I can, as well as trying to give my body more rest, by sleeping earlier.

I think it’s very important to listen to your body and as a result I have being trying to make more changes.

For the past week or so, I have been trying to eat a lot healthier and walk and get exercise more.

I have been treating my body in a bad way and I am trying to change that.

I have been eating a lot more fruit and veg, drinking as much water as I can, (whereas before I barely drank any) and instead of getting the bus, walking to college. I have also cut down on caffeine and completely avoided, for the most part, unhealthy food such as crisps and chocolate. 

In doing this I have become a lot more positive as a whole and now don’t care very much that I am “bigger” than a lot of my friends and I’m also now enjoying my body more too.

The next step I think, is now to de-clutter my room so I have more space and feel a lot free-er. As well as this I’m hoping to actually get out more and take the first step in asking my friends to do stuff, rather than expect them to come to me. Regardless of how I feel. I need to trust my friends more with my moods and how I’m feeling, rather than taking it out on them.

I love 2014 so far and I’m beginning to love myself and who I am.

Miracles.

Image

 

This is kind of a personal subject but considering it was on the BBC South News earlier I thought I would write about it.

 

The news story said a woman had given birth to a stillborn baby that died at 19 weeks and was able to hold her baby as well as get hand and footprints, but was not allowed to register the birth; as in the eyes of the state, a baby that dies before the 24 week limit, is not considered a person, but a fetus so cannot have a birth or death certificate. In the eyes of the state, it is a late miscarriage. As a result, and as you can imagine, she went to court over this and is trying to change the law.

This is where my story comes in…

All my life, up until now I have believed I was born at 24 weeks, as was my twin brother. Its on our birth certificates, and my brother’s death certificate too, But I wasn’t. My mother told me today that we were actually born just after the 23 week mark,and in order for my brother to have a death certificate as he died after only about half an hour of life, the doctor decided to put 24 weeks on his birth certificate, and i presume the same for me. Just so my brother would not be discarded as a late miscarriage and as such, there would be no record he existed.

Although this story has shaken me up, as I now feel I was not meant to exist, I support that brave woman’s court battle in trying to change the law with stillbirth or miscarried babies before the 24 week mark.

Being Me.

Most of my life, I have been shaped by my parents’ ways. They tell me “oh, don’t do that, that looks horrible”, “If you do that, this will happen”, “you’ll regret that when you’re older.” 

Well no I wont.

Because I know what I want to do with my life and I know how i want to look and what will make me happy. And if that involves being tattooed, having piercings, and having a job that pays next to nothing-then fuck it. Its my life and i’ll do what I want.

However, I am very easily influenced.

Every other month I am changing what I want to look like or how I want my hair to be. Yet i always come back to “the darker stuff” stuff like black clothing and dark eyeshadow. This is mainly to me being brought up on classic rock and such and having a major “emo” phase when i was about 12.

However, one man has inspired me to be who I am more than anyone else. 

Ricky “Horror” Olson.

I owe a lot to him. He made me realise it’s okay to have dreams but not to force them to happen, that its okay to admit depression but not to let it rule your life and that most importantly to be yourself no matter what. Not what external sources have claimed you to be To be you and only you.

I cannot thank him enough

Body Image and Alt Modelling.

It is known by many of my friends that I have low self esteem and very low body confidence, I even feel I am “fat” at a UK size 14, even though it is known that a UK size 16 is now the national average for women.

So I am a healthy sized woman.

To improve my body confidence I am debating with myself to be brave and try and apply for Suicide Girls-an alternative modelling site, celebrating tattooed and pierced women pin-ups.

This is something I have wanted to do since I was 13.

But applying for Suicide Girls means showing off my body without clothes as I have to submit a set of 40-60 photographs of myself starting clothed, ending naked. 

Although this may perhaps improve my confidence in myself and my body, the set has to be reviewed by members and highly approved before I can become a full Suicide Girl and start getting paid. This presents a problem at the moment as I am so uncomfortable with my body I barely let my boyfriend see it, let alone men/women on the internet. 

What worries me the most, is not my images being online, but the negative comments I could get from the public about my body size considering many of the girls already on the site are heavily tattooed and have very slim, ideal bodies that are about a UK size 8-10.

I reckon I will think it over a lot more though and work on my confidence and get some tattoos before I do apply so I am fully confident in myself and prepared for any comments I will get…

 

Spirituality.

Spirituality has always been very important to me. Not any religion or belief in particular but an accumulation of many. I like to be eclectic and my own person. I believe in many different things from many cultures such as Rastafari, Buddhism, Christianity and even Levayan Satanism.

I go through phases of either being very “gothic” in my style or very “hippie” and in doing so I am just trying to show both sides of my personality. My light and my darkness. My love of halloween, horror films and bats versus my love of nature, camping and dreadlocks. For some reason , I feel i cannot combine both, so i feel the need to show them separately. But within both of them runs  bit of feminism, as i am a feminist.

I dress and act how I do for me and no-one else. Not to look cool or impress guys but because it makes me happy. As does one month wanting to be smoothly shaven and another wanting to not bother about trivial things like the hair on our bodies.

It fluctuates, along with my mood and its what makes me who I am and what makes me human.

Human.

My thoughts speed past in a blur, leaving my head throbbing and my eyes aching.

I long to feel some emotion. 

Even if it were to only ghost the features of my face before dissolving back into emptiness.

I feel as if I am falling down a never ending pit of stomach-churning inky black. In slow motion I can feel all the emotions I once thought I had burned away completely. Loneliness. Resentment. Despair. And most of all- Hopelessness.

I’m stuck in an infinite loop of the finite and mundane tasks that are known as “living”. Brushing my teeth, putting on clothes, hiding my internal despair and braving the world for a few hours before returning home and resting my aching cheekbones. Then retiring into the warm silky sheets of my double bed. Inhabited by me alone.

It would be lovely to truly live. To not just inhabit the body I have been given, watching from the outside as if my life were some sick, twisted show you’d watch on TV out of morbid curiosity.

It would be a relief to feel human.

 

Break.

The air was frigid and the sky a deep blue. I was stood outside shivering against the brick wall of the venue;clad in tight leather jeans and my ripped band shirt. I leaned my head back and watched the smoke escape from my lips and unfurl into the night. It’s a bad habit I know, but it keeps me sane.

The wind picked up, slamming through my body and causing my hair to be whipped violently against my face. I sighed and dropped the amber filter to the floor and extinguished the flame with a swift swipe of my foot. Peeling myself from the cold bricks, I zipped up my jacket, balled my hands into my pockets and entered through the door on my left.

Back to work.

Patience.

Ive always been told “Patience is a virtue”-but I unfortunately have none.

I am constantly looking to the future, planning and sorting out my life and where I want to be and what I want to be doing.

That can be stressful.

Ive been on the brink of losing my mind because of my habit of looking constantly to the future. I’m just so impatient and every night I get down or angry about how Im not older, have tattoos, look how I want or am touring like I have always dreamed.

It honestly gets me down and although it makes me strive more and make me work harder to get where i need to be-it can be goddamn stressful and put a strain on my relationships with friends and with my boyfriend.

But I dont think i’ll ever learn-and it terrifies me.

I know one day I will crack.

Nox Invictus-Part 1,

The sky was a midnight blue, mottled with the days’ remnants of cloud.

I’m stood shivering in the queue, surrounded by people dressed like myself, but I am unlike them as I am human.-although you would not know it from the way I blend in.

I am surrounded by a sea of creatures-all breathtakingly beautiful and rather surreal in appearance. For instance, the couple in-front of me, buried in conversation, are clad only in black-a mix of fishnets, chains and band shirts-quite the usual for this part of London; however it is their hair and eyes that make them distinctly un-human. Their hair, glistening in the street lights, are matching shades of fuchsia pink, and their eyes! Their eyes are a neon blue, startlingly so, almost aqua.  But i digress..

I am finally here, at the front of the queue, I wait nervously as the security guard eyes me up and down; his gaze like that of a pawing cat, lazy and slow. My heart flutters in my chest but it soon ceases when I am given a short nod and allowed to enter. I let out a small sigh of relieve but I cannot relax for long, As I am finally in the nightclub known as Elysium.

….

Once I had steeled myself once more, I proceeded through to the main arena and was attacked by my senses,

The lights were blinding flashes of colour and the speakers blared out Acid House music at 120 beats-per-minute, spurring on the hoards of people writhing together on the glittering dance floor. But I’m not here to dance, I’m here to find them-the two people that killed my brother.

I immersed myself in the ever-moving mass of bodies and carefully eyed the people around me in search of the two I seek. I can see them no-where and with defeat heavy on my shoulders, I turn away and start my journey to the door of the club.

Then I spot them..