A “Critical” Analysis

I have happened across what I can only describe as a “critical” analysis of my ‘trade mark’ quote-

Smile…It wont hurt you

I say “critical” but really I’m quite fond of it. The comment reads as follows:

Smile, cry, scowl, it does not matter. Feel what you must feel in the darkest of nights and the brightest of days because darkness helps us appreciate the light.

-Buttercup.

I would give comprehensive credit to the author of the comment but I’m unsure whether he would like that. This blog has always been anonymous and I would like it to remain that way. ย If he reads this, He’ll know his own words. Thank you.

They mean a lot to me, not only for their origins but for their meanings too. I have no arguments against them and I believe rather than opposing my quote, they give it new depth. The comment highlights the importants of not repressing any emotion you may have. No matter the intensity, you should embrace any and all feelings you may have at all times. Never be afraid to feel. Emotions are one of the fundamental characteristics of being human. If you squash and ignore them, you are only ignoring your humanity. For a person that for a long time has tried to do the above, I know I will definitely be taking the advice on board. I plead you all (If you don’t already) do the same. For the sake of health and happiness.

But remember to still,

Smile…It wont hurt you ๐Ÿ™‚

 

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The Final Night

18 years of junk-or as much as would fit into limited boxes-has been piled into the family car. I finally finished packing as the car was being loaded.

Tonight is my final night in my family home. As I type this my NSBFBF, or as I see her now, my sister is in the shower and I’m sprawled on what has became her bed. It’s funny how life changes. How relationships change. How people change.

In so many ways I think I’m nothing like the little girl I used to be. I’d like to think I’ve matured and grown into a better version of myself. In reality I’m still that scared little girl, afraid of the next chapter of her life.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m thoroughly excited to begin the next chapter in this story called ‘My Life’ .ย  Truly I am. But when I step out of this house tomorrow, everything changes. I can’t even play the part of child or girl again. As much as my numerical age depicts that I am a woman, I don’t think I’ll actually feel it until I leave.

Woman…Adult. Such frightening nouns. How an it be that a simple string of letters makes me feel afraid? I do not wish to grow up. As much as I crave freedom and independence, surely life is so much simpler in the comfort of our own home?

I hope I like my new home. I hope I get along with my new neighbours. I hope I don’t lose this incredible friendship I have built with my best friend. I can’t bare to leave her, yet I must. How the heck am I going to survive without her? She is my rock. She is my own personal jester. No one I have ever met truly understands me like she does. And I don’t think they ever can, could or will.

 

Rain.

I want it to rain.

I want it to pour. For the heavens to open and release a thousand tiny bullets to rain down on me. 

I want thunder. The crash of the gods, screaming at my window.

I want it to cascade down on the rooftops so that the noise fills my head. Smashing down on the concrete with the power of an army. 

I want lightning. The sudden unexpected flash illuminating this dank room. Shining light on my world.

I want the pressure of suspense to suffocate me. Crush me until there is no oxygen left.

I want a storm.

Maybe then I’ll be free.
Smile…it won’t hurt you ๐Ÿ™‚

Cutting my hair

In roughly an hour my hair will be gone.

Not all of it but a good majority.

Let me explain. About three years ago I discovered The Little Princess Trust.ย They are a charity who uses real hair to make wigs for children who have experienced hair loss. Be that due to chemotherapy treatment because of cancer, or alopecia. I loved the idea and wanted to help so for the past three years I’ve let my hair grow. It now falls to about my waist and I love it. I’m both excited and terrified at the same time to cut it off.Over the years I’ve become so used to having long hair that it seems so strange to think that it will soon be gone. I’m not a big fan of change and its a big challenge for me. But if we’re being honest (and I always try to be here) I don’t need it. It doesn’t promote my health, gain me money or happiness. I wont be harmed without it and I know it will potentially make a little girl or boy going through a horrendous time smile. That’s all that matters really. Honestly I only enjoy it for aesthetic reasons, my hair has become my personality but I will carry on. Its good to challenge yourself every now and then. Scary is good. (To a degree!)

I will link the website here if anyone is interested in learning more about the charity.

Remember to Smile…It wont hurt you ๐Ÿ™‚

Creative procrastination

This appears to be my first post of this year so for starters

HAPPY NEW YEAR! ( slightly late I’m aware ๐Ÿ˜‰ )

I once again have no inspiration for what this will contain so hold on for the roller coaster ride!

I am currently sat at college, procrastinating when there is so much work that I could be doing.

Have you ever had those dreams where you’re running. Running like crazy, trying to get away from whatever ghoul is chasing after you but no matter how hard you try you never get anywhere. Or you do move but its at a ridiculously slow pace and you know for certain that you’re not going to escape it. Well that how I feel right now in life. I know there’sย all of these things I could and should be doing but rather than just doing them I put them off. I revise for hours but at the end I cant remember any of it. I try to be productive/proactive and find a new job but I just get turned down time and time again. Trust me now I know how Mary and Joseph must have felt.

Despite all of that, I know this is only temporary. This feeling like many others I’ve experienced will pass and life will get back to ‘Normal’ again.

Smile…It wont hurt you ๐Ÿ™‚

 

Why?

His face donned with a pitiful expression, the man sighs.
“I’m sorry, there’s nothing we can do.”
Another sigh, a shake of his head and he’s sending her out of the door.
“we’ll see you in six months!”

No longer can she hold it in. The silent tears roll down her puffy cheeks, hot and heavy against her pale skin. Her mouth opens but the words cannot be formed for her mouth is much too dry.

In her head so many new questions swirl around like a puff of smoke. “why will no one help me?” “why does nobody understand?

At home the girl stands before the mirror. Make-up, her attempt to make herself feel better, is now running down her face and has pooled at the neck of her shirt. Without the highlights of foundation and blusher her face is hollow. Collar bones stick out from her neck, square bony shoulders, ribs that you can count. One, two three… Hip bones protruding from her shorts, thin bony legs, the muscles have lone been gone, broken down in a last attempt to keep her body running.

The voice. It’s here again. Of course it is. It never leaves just like an unwanted visiter.
“Fat. Look at that! Fat. Fat. Fat.”
The girl swallows.
“No!” she says out loud. “No I am not!”
Shaking now, every inch of her quivers.

The voice, it’s presence is fading, she can feel it. Then before she can exhale,
“No one will ever love you when you look like that.” The venom in it’s words still sting for a moment and then…

Silence.

Sweet, blissful silence. Until tomorrow. Then it begins all over again.