'A man must be big enough to admit his mistakes, smart enough to profit from them, and strong enough to correct them.'
Wednesday 5 October 2011
The joys of being an Undergraduate
Its weird coming onto my blog after being so in love the last time I wrote on here.
Stratch that...I am still in love. Just I wasn't enough. End of that story.
Reading how much effort I put into writing about him gives me this feeling, low in my stomach, like like its empty even though I've just ate, like its just deflating and giving up. I can be perfectly fine, walking and talking with friends and then I get a text from him. and there it goes...just pow. I'm back to feeling like I could crawl along the gutter after him. Everything around me doesn't matter anymore, i just want to read it as fast as I can in the hope, just maybe, he will say he loves me too.
Its weird writing about heartbreak. I love writing about happy feelings and emotions cause you can describe how everything around you glistens, how happy every step you take is.
Then all of a sudden its over, your partner wants to take a different path and your stuck at this massive crossroads. Do I follow him and hope he realises that actually he does need me and he wouldn't want to be without me, or do i take my own path and hope either he turns and follows me?
For the time being I'm just waiting, I'm trying to concentrate on the most important thing right now and that's university. Even that sucks. Everyone is in love, all the boys are complete jocks. I feel I cant escape just feeling like crap, i'm embracing it, and just wallowing in my self pity.
Even the university lecturers just want us to 'draw up our emotional baggage' as we 'cannot form therapeutic relationships even we are not aware of our own STUFF'. I don't want to. I'm already choking through the tears of past two weeks to even think of adding to it, thank you.
SO, i shall not be writing bout love any time soon. Just the joys of being an undergraduate at Worcester University, the fun of teenage life and good ol' family.
Hopefully I can get into writing blogs more often, I miss it.
Tuesday 9 August 2011
You.
I open my eyes, the rooms bright. Its just how i love waking up, i know you hate it, but you leave it bright for me. We are snuggled beneath the covers in your king size bed. I reach out for you, I tickle my fingers down your shirtless body, your so warm and sleepy. Its just turning 8am but I dont want the alarm to go off. I want to be in the moment for ever, looking at you. The man who brought meaning into everything, my partner in crime. I just want stay in the moment of feeling so lucky to be able to watch your eyes flicker with so much effort as you try to wake yourself up.
I'm in love with you.
Its so easy to say, there's no need to hold back feelings, or tell myself this isn't going to work. For the first time in my life something is going right, im not messing it up, im not doing anything wrong. I've met a guy, we're falling in love and life couldn't be turning around any quicker.
Grown up.
I read my other blog, the first and cried. Only because in 2009 i was convinced i was a grown woman, someone who didn't get persuaded by what others think and what other people think i should be.
I wrote that blog on here and left, i have been using another blogging website but have came to find i would rather write on here, without anyone knowing i am...me. Alot has happened from when i wrote on here first, i've been in love twice, fell out of love once. I've failed a college course i was so passionate about. I've lost friends, family and gained some people truely wonderful.
Before i start updating this blog regularly i want to just revisit what i have wrote previously on this blog...
I have to admit i no long have to go out my way to search for happiness within my day, but i should write i have found it in the shape of a man. A beautiful man, 21 years old; spontaneous, confident, loving and most of all he is mine, to keep me happy when i feel glum.
I also wrote on my previous blog that 'I try to never give up on the good times and I don't think there should be ever anything to regret.' but i have. i think i have so many regrets that it is impossible to write them all, but this will come in time, i shall write and write and write and hopefully come to terms with all the mistakes i have made in the past two years, and get to grips with all the great thing to have happened to me since may 2011.
I guess that is why i am writing this blog. i have so may thing i want to talk about, but not to a particular person, not someone who can give me advice, not someone who will ring me up and say that i should talk about things. i just want to write, about life and know that somewhere in the world, someone is reading this, and maybe, just can relate to it and feel better.
I wrote that blog on here and left, i have been using another blogging website but have came to find i would rather write on here, without anyone knowing i am...me. Alot has happened from when i wrote on here first, i've been in love twice, fell out of love once. I've failed a college course i was so passionate about. I've lost friends, family and gained some people truely wonderful.
Before i start updating this blog regularly i want to just revisit what i have wrote previously on this blog...
I have to admit i no long have to go out my way to search for happiness within my day, but i should write i have found it in the shape of a man. A beautiful man, 21 years old; spontaneous, confident, loving and most of all he is mine, to keep me happy when i feel glum.
I also wrote on my previous blog that 'I try to never give up on the good times and I don't think there should be ever anything to regret.' but i have. i think i have so many regrets that it is impossible to write them all, but this will come in time, i shall write and write and write and hopefully come to terms with all the mistakes i have made in the past two years, and get to grips with all the great thing to have happened to me since may 2011.
I guess that is why i am writing this blog. i have so may thing i want to talk about, but not to a particular person, not someone who can give me advice, not someone who will ring me up and say that i should talk about things. i just want to write, about life and know that somewhere in the world, someone is reading this, and maybe, just can relate to it and feel better.
Wednesday 1 July 2009
Literallly, first time.
1st – July - 2009
Indent, capital letter, rant. Oh dear, I’m just an amateur. I’m sitting here on my 'outside summer sofa’ in the garden, under the palm tree...losing my blogging virginity. Oh the imagery that creates. Just imagine. I’ve never blogged before, could say i'm nervous. Blogging seems to be rated the best stress reliever; so I’m going to give it a try. Today while in the centre of big bad Birmingham, I walked into ‘The Works’ and brought Camilla Morton’s book ‘A Year in High Heels’ where I found her words perfect for my little life dilemma and took her advice to start blogging.
‘If you feel like giving the world immediate access to your musings, rants or
inner turmoil, rather than leaving your diary open on the bus its time to start
a blog.’
How wonderful.
I always face my diary to other people so they read how actually depressing life could be… if they were me. I also joke alot too. Pointless little one liners that only i laugh at.
I sped through 75 of those perfectly smooth pages today. The book already looks unconditionally loved. It’s the way I caress them as I turn the page over. They get touched and rubbed more then a blonde prostitute. (I guess they get more customers then brunettes). Muhaha. I took my newly purchased book and propped my buttum on one of the stone benches by the fountain. The temperature was hitting 34 Degrees Celsius, but I didn’t mind how much I seemed to perspire at that precise hour. The fountain. Where I wish to spend the rest of my days reading next to. The sound of the water, and the way it glistens in the sunshine, its so beautiful it hurts. How utterly crap that it was turned off today. I had nothing to greet my ears except a drunken man gurgling beside me.
Then he moved I felt joyful for a second then all I could focus on is the distant murmur of so many conversations of the passers by. I hate that. So many words, so little time. They seem to mesh together to make a fuzzy kind of noise; you can’t make out any words, just fuzz.
I felt pretty today. I sat reading in what seemed to me an awfully flattering position, if I must say so myself, good side facing the public. My legs comfortably collapsed on the bench beside me; like a rag doll they just seemed to flop down, I guess through exhaustion, the heat drains everything from you, I realised that today as I slumped down like an overweight 70 year old. Anyway back to my seat. Yes I did look terribly beautiful, facing the statue the other side of the fountain. Where there appeared…like snow in the middle of July…totally unexpected… a man.
Oh yes. A man. Such a beautiful curly haired creature. Even beautifully trimmed stubble mounted his perfectly chiselled chin. I have never described a man as ‘beautiful’ before; there is a first time for everything. I looked over sneakily a few times, the last one I wish I had missed. I watched as a tall, slinky Chinese devil of a woman came flowling across the steps into his arms. Suddenly I felt like Bridget Jones. My flattering position then turned into a butch army competition. I was the butchest to compete obviously. I went from Cameron Diaz to a female Ozzy Osborne in seconds. It was amusing I guess. Trying my hardest to seem appealing when all he was waiting for was he oh so perfect half naked sun goddess. I love that word. Goddess. It’s like a VIP, but in words, like a VI…W? It can only be used when describing an utterly indefinable woman, only ever definably by the word ‘goddess’. I warn you to not use it densely and it may lose it powerful powerfulness over other words. It’s a VIW.
Oh no. I shall shut up now. Overall I had such an inspiring day minus the beautiful people rubbing in how beautifully perfect and beautiful they are. Ha. I caught the 126 home, 40 whole minutes, travelling in intense weather conditions, next to a man who though deodorant is only something famous people wear. A better way to see it is that I had 40 minutes to find refuge in my book again, giggling silently at the words of this amazing woman who I had only just discovered.
Anyway that is enough of my day. As this is my first ever blog I decided its time to describe myself a little too.
I sped through 75 of those perfectly smooth pages today. The book already looks unconditionally loved. It’s the way I caress them as I turn the page over. They get touched and rubbed more then a blonde prostitute. (I guess they get more customers then brunettes). Muhaha. I took my newly purchased book and propped my buttum on one of the stone benches by the fountain. The temperature was hitting 34 Degrees Celsius, but I didn’t mind how much I seemed to perspire at that precise hour. The fountain. Where I wish to spend the rest of my days reading next to. The sound of the water, and the way it glistens in the sunshine, its so beautiful it hurts. How utterly crap that it was turned off today. I had nothing to greet my ears except a drunken man gurgling beside me.
Then he moved I felt joyful for a second then all I could focus on is the distant murmur of so many conversations of the passers by. I hate that. So many words, so little time. They seem to mesh together to make a fuzzy kind of noise; you can’t make out any words, just fuzz.
I felt pretty today. I sat reading in what seemed to me an awfully flattering position, if I must say so myself, good side facing the public. My legs comfortably collapsed on the bench beside me; like a rag doll they just seemed to flop down, I guess through exhaustion, the heat drains everything from you, I realised that today as I slumped down like an overweight 70 year old. Anyway back to my seat. Yes I did look terribly beautiful, facing the statue the other side of the fountain. Where there appeared…like snow in the middle of July…totally unexpected… a man.
Oh yes. A man. Such a beautiful curly haired creature. Even beautifully trimmed stubble mounted his perfectly chiselled chin. I have never described a man as ‘beautiful’ before; there is a first time for everything. I looked over sneakily a few times, the last one I wish I had missed. I watched as a tall, slinky Chinese devil of a woman came flowling across the steps into his arms. Suddenly I felt like Bridget Jones. My flattering position then turned into a butch army competition. I was the butchest to compete obviously. I went from Cameron Diaz to a female Ozzy Osborne in seconds. It was amusing I guess. Trying my hardest to seem appealing when all he was waiting for was he oh so perfect half naked sun goddess. I love that word. Goddess. It’s like a VIP, but in words, like a VI…W? It can only be used when describing an utterly indefinable woman, only ever definably by the word ‘goddess’. I warn you to not use it densely and it may lose it powerful powerfulness over other words. It’s a VIW.
Oh no. I shall shut up now. Overall I had such an inspiring day minus the beautiful people rubbing in how beautifully perfect and beautiful they are. Ha. I caught the 126 home, 40 whole minutes, travelling in intense weather conditions, next to a man who though deodorant is only something famous people wear. A better way to see it is that I had 40 minutes to find refuge in my book again, giggling silently at the words of this amazing woman who I had only just discovered.
Anyway that is enough of my day. As this is my first ever blog I decided its time to describe myself a little too.
Jessica Mae Groom.
Sarcastic/Stubborn/Extroverted/Insatiable/Sweetheart.
Many people get to their teens and feel they have to find themselves. I think I found myself at the age of about 5. And to be honest I like it. I’m a pretty cool person. I have never changed my opinions or views to impress people. I'm happy to catch an average of six buses a day. I'm on a constant search for happiness, not that I don’t have plenty, I mean by this that I don’t like spending a minute of the day where I’m not happy. I search for it without fail, every day.
I try to never give up on the good times and I don't think there should be ever anything to regret. I can't empathize how much I believe in trust. I've come to find,
due to lack of knowledge, people lie; leaving me always humiliated. I have a passion for drawing, painting & reading. I'm always down for conversation. I believe people should spend the time getting to know strangers, so lets make each other smile. (Meaning a nice conversation with a stranger on the bus about something pleasant but random, not influencing a pedophile to call me sexy.) Ha. I have a crap sense of humor too. Well that’s it for now I guess. I’m going to retire, as the sofa needs to be put away and my palm tree watered. Good night y’all.
I try to never give up on the good times and I don't think there should be ever anything to regret. I can't empathize how much I believe in trust. I've come to find,
due to lack of knowledge, people lie; leaving me always humiliated. I have a passion for drawing, painting & reading. I'm always down for conversation. I believe people should spend the time getting to know strangers, so lets make each other smile. (Meaning a nice conversation with a stranger on the bus about something pleasant but random, not influencing a pedophile to call me sexy.) Ha. I have a crap sense of humor too. Well that’s it for now I guess. I’m going to retire, as the sofa needs to be put away and my palm tree watered. Good night y’all.
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