I am currently about to go into my 3rd year of my Journalism degree and because of this, not only am I starting to think about my dissertation but I am also debating whether to take on a Masters degree or go into full-time work- or even both. As in get a job in Journalism first and then pursue a Masters..
The trouble with doing both however, is the sheer amount of work I will have on my shoulders constantly- and then there’s also the money aspect as taking on a Master’s is not cheap…hence why I was thinking of getting into work first.
The University I am looking at doing some form of writing Master’s at is City University of London. This is because of the fantastic reputation they have as well as industry connections. The trouble is, there are about three courses I am debating between.
It is not that I do not like Journalism enough to go into a career with it, but I am very worried about either not being able to find a job, but if I do that I will quickly come to hate it or get bored of my passion.
Therefore, two of the MA’s i’m looking into a creative writing ones: MA Creative Writing (Novels), or MA Creative Writing (Play and Screenwriting) and the third is MA Financial Journalism.
Although I am still tossing around my options- no matter what I decide, I just want to write.
I just don’t know whether I should stick to what I know and stay in Journalism, or to branch out and go into writing more creatively and about what I like rather than merely reporting.
She sat in semi-darkness. It was 2AM and the rise and fall of her love’s chest beside her soothed her worries. But only for a while.
She could never sleep anymore. Always felt the need to stay awake and pour her heart any way she could. Let out all the things she felt she could not utter out loud.
Lit by the soft light of the bedside lamp, she opened up her laptop whilst her partner slept beside her, and started to write.
The words flowed from her fingertips like magic, forming words and phrases that told the world about her feelings- her love for her husband and her constant desire for romance.
No matter how much her lover pleased her, she could not shake the need for more. More romantic gestures and more things that would only happen in movies.
You see, she is and always has been a hopeless romantic.
The blue haze of her computer screen illuminated her face and captured her thoughts so eloquently. She wrote pages after pages of everything she felt she could not have possibly put into words before. Her romantic needs and desires that she played out in her mind night after night.
As the clock beside the bed flashed 4AM, she sat back and sighed once. Satisfied she had released the excess energy and quelled her mind for a while, she shut the laptop and lay down.
Then cuddled up to her lover, and fell into a peaceful and unending sleep.
In the past few weeks my outlook has changed.
I have become very restless and fidgety and I until now I could not put my finger on it.
I want out.
I want to leave my home for a while and travel. I need to not stay stuck in a rut of university work and home life, I need to feel the sun on my bare skin and experience life and what is outside of my very limited experience of the world.
I want to experience new things and really live my life. I want to travel South-East Asia, Africa, America and Europe. I want to be always moving and meeting new people and trying new things. To really push myself and grow as a person.
Im sick of clutter in my life; both in my own bedroom and the room I occupy at university. Earlier today even, I have filled 7 bin bags full of clothes and accessories to donate to charities later in the week….I still have more to clear out too.
I just need to find peace within myself and do what I really desire.
That is to leave and keep on travelling until I finally find what truly makes me happy. The sun on my bare naked skin and being surrounded my similar people with travelling in their hearts and as a part of their very beings.
I need to be free.
My eyes blur in an alcoholic haze. The strobe lights flash, making the room into a kaleidoscope. Couples are all around me, limbs entwined and bodies moving in sync and pressed together, mocking me for my recent troubles in my own love life.
Tears have stained my cheeks but i’m too far gone to care about the mascara trailing it’s way down my face- I’m only here to drink and to forget. I shakily step outside, light my cigarette and exhale the smoke into the stormy skies. Watching each exhale hover in the air before dissipating into nothing.
Minutes later, I discard my drained cigarette to the ground and extinguish it with a swift swipe of my foot before I stumble inside and back to my place at the bar and order another 6 shots. The barman eyes me warily but nevertheless places the lime green solutions in front of me, which I down one after the other, letting the liquid run smoothly down my throat.
I look around me and smile to myself…it’s time for me to sin.
The sky flashed a vibrant purple and was once again plunged into darkness, the rain was pounding in my ears and chilling my body down to the bone.
I huddled my body under the nearest cover and shakily lit my cigarette. This was my favourite weather- violent and stormy. When the air felt electric and the sky was flashes of violet, navy and the deepest pitch of black. I inhaled deeply, exhaled, and watched as the smoke was whipped from my mouth and into the night.
The weather tonight was as turbulent as my mood; I was torn between staying here in this beautiful place with my lover or fleeing from it all to try and escape the demons that haunt me, day and night, within my head. Never relenting.
The decision was mine to make.
The church bells in the distance chimed. The sky flashed again and the world was exposed in white for the briefest of seconds. I knew what I had to do.
I extinguished my cigarette with a swift movement of my foot, steadied my trembling hands in my pockets, and took off into the night- letting the pouring rain envelope my body.
I felt free.
The harsh weight of guilt is pressing on my chest, making my heart heavy and my breath catch. All I do is cry and make myself increasingly more sleep deprived with every passing day.
I’ve become numb like it has been snowing for decades and I’ve stood in the snow; slowly turning my blood to ice and my skin to marble.
How I wish I could crumple in on myself like paper, let the weight of everything crush my bones and turn me to dust.
Id cease to exist in a matter of seconds. No more pain and no more hurt. Just reduced to dust.
No more hating myself and who I am; what I’ve become. How all I do is hurt people I love- over and over again.
To finally be at peace.
Spirituality means a lot to me. Although I do not have a religion as such, I appreciate most, if not all religions and peoples practices.
In not having a religion, I have found myself to be very interested in them, particularly the more peace centred religions; such as Buddhism and Hinduism-not only this, but the self- I guess I can thank my Sociology classes for this.
Recently I have been reading a lot into “The Power of Now” and what is called the implicate order. Both of which i find facinating and awe-inspiring in terms of the human mind and us as beings.Hinduism has reinforced this for me, the more I read into the Holy Rivers and the some of the stories within the Bhavagad Gita (a holy book within Hinduism) as well as listening to Trevor Hall speak and listening to his songs.
I guess what I am tring to get at, is I have been reading more into humans as spiritual beings on this Earth and trying to understand myself more to give me peace of mind and quell the aching in m chest everyday because of my need for more.
In short I have looked into:
-The implicate order
-The power of now
-Resource Based Economics (I would recommend watching the Zeitgeist Trilogy)
I just want to expand my mind and my conciousness to other beings apart from just myself.
Misanthropy; mi-ˈsan(t)-thrə-pē: a hatred or distrust of humankind.
In the past few days I have found myself to be more misanthropic and introverted than usual, this is most likely due to my current feelings over something I did to hurt the only person I truly care for.
I recently put a post on my Tumblr stating-
“God I despise human beings a lot of the time.
We as a species may be advanced but were so goddamn clingy and the chattering to others to impress them all the time is annoying as fuck and everyone is always complaining. Always trying to out do each other with knowledge or power or status. It’s fucking idiotic.
I would way rather be alone with my cats and dogs reading in the quiet away from everyone.
You all give me a headache”
This outburst so publicly about my feeling I have figured in the rational part of my mind is due to my guilt over what I have done and reflecting what I hate about myself as a human onto everyone else around me due to the hurt I am feeling myself.
I don’t know how to fix it but all I know is that right now I despise everyone but Him and my pets.
The wind howled and the rain pummeled my face, my hair violently being pulled across my face. My vision blurred in the storm and a flash of lighting illuminated the sky-unveiling the intense inky black of the sea below me and the violet sky above. I was alone. The sole person around for miles and stood atop the rocky cliff, being eroded by rain every second I stood in my trance, unable to feel the icy cold of the wind slamming into my body.
I knew I should move, will my legs to carry me away from the precipice-yet I was transfixed. Despite the storm, the sea looked so inviting. A never-ending pool of darkness and warmth-to feel the water envelop me and swallow me whole-to drift deeper and deeper, away from everyone and everything, letting the darkness comfort and console me as no-one yet could.
Death is but a sweet relief. We had danced together before. The smoke unfurling in my lungs each day. Inhaling and exhaling the acrid substance until my throat hurt and the sadness had passed. A temporary fix to ease the pain. A habit repeated each day religiously until I was numb and mustered the courage to plaster a smile on my face-one that I felt could crack and peel away at any moment. Revealing my true nature and feelings to those around me.
I took a deep, long breath. Letting the ice invade my lungs, crystallizing every inch of me . Held it there. One…Two…Three… Exhale. Without looking below me I closed my eyes…
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.