There's no place like home..

These past few weeks, Worcester has really been losing its charm.

It used to be a sanctuary, a place where I could escape the vile, miscreants that live in West Bromwich. And to a point it is...

I love taking walks in Worcester, not waking up opposite a factory, not feeling like I'm going to get stabbed while taking a simple bus journey to town, no HAVING to get a bus everywhere you go...

But the reality of Worcester is that it is not home. Not anymore.

This time last year the thought of leaving Worcester tore me apart, three months away from the place and the people who changed my life. The people who had respect for me and the people who treated me different than i have been treated before.

This year I cant wait to get home. Away form the hypocrisy of people, the selfishness, the vanity, people who think the world revolves around them. People who only want you when they need something.

I truly am looking forward to next year and the amazing house I have lined up for me. I just think the best place for me right now is the place I detest, with my friends and family. <3

Lets hope Worcester can improve next year...

Creative Writing YOU WHORE

I had to write a formal poem, and i chose an elegy (poem to someone who has died)

I have called it "Tombe" which is "Fallen" in french :)

Enjoy...



Tombé

I sit and I wait for you to appear
Yet nothing, no sign, how could you forget?
I expect I’ll fold under the weight of my tears
Crushed by the promise you were too careless to have met

They lead me gently, vows still in hand
Down past the pews and the exquisite stained glass
Whispering explanations I cannot understand
Reason’s to why there won’t be a mass

I only catch glimpses of their carefully placed words
Hit, may be critical, hole in his lung
I remove my veil yet awareness remains blurred
Trying to speak without possession of my tongue

Refusing to watch them intrude on your purgatory,
I allow myself to be swept into the churning of lights
To escape the parade, standing by so cautiously
Empathetic thoughts for the lady in white

It does not take long for them to establish you’re deceased
And abruptly they strip me of my untainted white dress
Replacing with a uniform; dark, sullen and creased
Appropriate really, designed to depress

I think they’re expecting me to fall apart completely
For my broken heart to effortlessly consume
However I’m afraid I cannot talk about you so sweetly
You did not fulfil your duty as a breathing bridegroom

You allowed yourself to be vulnerable, you didn’t escape death
Your self-centred actions have left me alone
I have not a husband, a companion to share breath
I have only empty words, etched on a gravestone

I believe in fate...almost

I do believe that the things that happen to us, happen to us for a reason. That they are intended to shape us as people.

My belief has been challenged today.
Why do bad things happen to good people??

Like constant bad things. Not even a glimmer of something positive.

I sit here writing this cryptic blog letting out the emotion i didn't want to show today, put a brave face on for the people i love.


My parents are the biggest inspiration i have ever had.
They deserve better than the shit fate is dealing them.


Sort it out, yeah fate?

Easter

Its funny, well not funny. Actually if you laugh at my situation you're a bit of a r'tard. But its weird, that it's exactly a year since things when shit for me last year.

Exactly a year ago I couldn't eat/sleep/.
Exactly a year ago the panic attacks got worse.
Exactly a year ago I cried whenever I was alone.

And its exactly a year later I start to feel like myself again.

The weird thing?

The weird thing is that I've been hurt worse than I ever thought possible THIS year, worse than last year. And I feel like I'm jinxing it by saying it, but I'm starting to move on.

I mean I could be fooling myself, and it could all come rushing back and make me want to sit in the river and stay there. But right now. Feeling like Maria Allen :). I have to go through it each day, the "shiiiit that sucks" feeling. But with the help of some very good friends and some even better family I'm getting through it.

Anyway, the reason I'm writing this blog, is because the way I feel reminds me of my favourite poem. Its not really a "proper" poem by English Lit standards. But I memorised it when I was like...6. Ridiculous how I can relate to a children's poem so much aye?

'Who Nibbles the Moon?'

Who Nibbles the Moon? Who takes a bite?
Out of its roundness, night by night.
Till nothings left but a crust and then...
Who bakes the Moon all over again?
And hangs it up all round and bright,
Ready for someone...to nibble and bite


<3

THIRD ENTRY??? Now this is just getting ridicilous!

Ok.

Last post of the night I swears it!!

I had to write a free verse poem from a list of 100 things I like.
I like this one :-)

"Anticipation"

I'm walking home when it firsts hits me.
The air lightly laced with the familiar odour.
As I get closers, the aroma begins to work,
Making its way through my senses.
Clinging to my nostrils, filling my head with its scent.
I pick up my pace.
Excitement pounds through me.
The smell gets stronger, more potent.
My mouth begins to water.
I'm not even through the front door and I know...
Mom's making curry tonight!!!


Love you all <3

Second entry of the night...WHATS OCCURING?

So I have to right some free verse poetry. Which I'm honestly terrible at.
But here is my first.

"The Pessimistic Optimistic"

I say I'm numb, that I feel nothing.
However, in truth...I feel everything.
Trying to remember that time I was whole.
But was it merely an illusion?
Those times I was complete,
When the sun had stole its way into my heart,
I could have been dreaming.
The problem with dreams, is that you always wake up.
And I know that now, I am no longer asleep.
He is not worthy of my poetry.
Sonnets pining for affection.
The sun will rise again.
And this time, I'll be awake to see every minute of it.



2 hours and 7 drafts. Ho hum pigs bum :)

Curry

I love my creative writing module. It allows me to write poetry like this...

"I like Currraaaaaay" by Maria Allen

(dedicated to the fellow lovers of curry and inventors of the world famous curry song..Mr Tom Willis and Mr William Darling)


There's one thing I want I'll have it if I can
(I know what you're thinking...Alan Rickman?)
Its easy to make, but hard to make good,
I can honestly say its my favourite kind of food!
I'm talking about curry, packed full of spice,
You can eat it with poppadoms, naan bread or rice!

My Mom makes the best curries, all from scratch
When I go home she saves me a batch.
She said, using sauce from a jar is just plain lazy
So crack out those spices and make a Jalfrezzi!
The hotter the better she likes to think,
Just a shame when you eat them, you start to stink.

My speciality is mixing Korma and Tikka.
(Put a lid on the saucepan, I swear it cooks quicker)
From creamy to tangy, I love what curry brings!
Just beware after eating, your arse is going to sting!
Fuck the Italians, they can keep their Salami!
Ask me anyday, I'll prefer chicken biryani!

I love curry :-) Its why I wrote this poem...
But I had a Balti earlier...so to the toilet I be going!