Erised Stra Ehr Oyt Ube Cafru On Wohsi

She pored into the rabbit hole and at what seemed like the bottom was a kaleidoscope. Her back arched forward as she attempted recklessly to get a better look. The exotic shades were so different to the beige and grey of her surrounding world; before she could yield it, she felt her body tumble forwards as she twisted and spiraled. After a while, she felt the sickening pull of Gravity‘s grasp as she was plunged into darkness. A blink... and there before her muddy green eyes was a utopia of sapphire streams and soft downy grass. The air was fresh and crisp, tasting like youth in her mouth. She began to stroll leisurely, arms wide ‘til she stumbled across a white hare carrying a copious pocket-watch...

If you could choose any wondrous escape you wanted, right at this very moment in time, what would it be? You‘ve seen mine, so fill me in on yours. Best comment receives a mention.

I‘m deeply sorry about the long delay between posts. Mocks are coming up and there are so many things on my mind, and to tie it all up, I betcha I‘ll be single for valentine‘s day. I‘d say yes to anyone‘s offers now. Mostly because I basically fancy everyone I know. Anywhoo, I had a breakdown this morning. I haven‘t had one in literal ages so it probably would‘ve happened sooner or later, but I really thought I was over all of that. All through first and second year, some mornings turned out wrong. I‘d be getting ready for school & I‘d look in the mirror and suddenly totally freak out. I‘d lock myself in the bathroom and sob and scream like a crazy person, hyperventilating. My dad had to talk to me through the door and coax me to open it. When I finally reluctantly opened it, they‘d stand there silent and just stare at me, and I‘d get that atrocious burning feeling that I get when people are being condescending or judgmental so I‘d shout at them to stop staring at me with my hands over my ears. The next stage was fetal position on the cold, tope tiles. BTW, if you're reading and judging, go away. Because I'm typing this out to make me happy.

Anyway, on those days, I'd always be late for school and people would ask me where the fuck I was and I‘d always have to lie, and their questions made me feel worse. Today, I kind of just felt everything in my head explode and I was doing all my usual things and I told mom everything I felt bad about, like not having the trig homework done for two weeks because I was too embarrassed to tell the teacher I didn‘t understand it because she's a bitch to me and stuff and all the other things and how I look and the self harm and everythinggggg. And there were 3 more tries of re-doing my make up and then I gave up and gulped down 3 cups of extra sugary tea and talked with mom and dad and we came to the compromise that today dad would go through trigonometry and pythagoras &tc at home instead of going to school. I feel a bit better though, shakey and anxious, but better. I know, I know, big deal out of nothing but it always gets to me a lot.

Dad googled me and found my twitter, my facebook, my plurk and, get this, Keeva‘s blog. He went all angry red coloured and then started questioning me about head shops and whether I state my address on websites. I learned a valuable lesson from it though; I need to adjust my privacy settings. That was last night, and it did contribute to my stress levels. Tonight when I was getting my laptop off mumsy, she asked what I was planning on doing. I was so tempted to go 'having lesbian cyber sex with women who are planning on leaving their husbands on facebook chat' but I didn't because that would be taken seriously by my chocolate-covered lemon of a mother. Oh well, no big deal after all, it's done and dusted etc.

OMG more 'drama'. I don't know, I don't really want to dwell or anything on the topic, so I'll just say that it's pretty fucking stupid to be making such a big deal about 'being two-faced' when a) you're practically three-faced, b) I‘ve done worse before and I hardly did anything and c) Haiti. There. Done. I feel better.

I think I'll end this post with an extract from a poem I read today in a book of my sister's. It's by Christina Rossetti, I hope you like it as much as I do:

 ________________________________

For if the darkness and corruption leave

A vestige of thoughts that I once had

Better by far that you should forget and smile

Than you should remember and be sad. 
________________________________

Comment please.

Lucy

xoxo

EDIT: mention if anyone in the comments figures out what the title is.

          and who clicked crapola? >.>

Love and Stuff.

Winter is slowly passing by. I can see it in the iridescent turquoise skies and feel it in the fresh, biting air. The sky is rich and creamy at eight in the morning instead of clouded and inky, and the grass is a pulsing emerald. The only sign left to happen is the budding of tiny new leaves from the currently sword-like, coal branches that embrace each and every tree. I love spring: the tiny birds chirping their welcome, the petite marshmallowy snow-drops like little, growing church bells, the whole world plunging itself into a technicolour paint bucket. It's an inspiring time of year for new beginnings & dying grudges; the year's exfoliation. With every season, it's a set change. Brand new experiences and images everywhere, new shades and tones, and different emotion is in the air. Spring is the time for love...and stuff.



Teachers are going into overdrive on the exam front. Homework homework revision homework. I should really stop complaining about school but jesus, it's only my junior cert and they act like it's a huge, profound indicator of my future. Ehm, tbh, if I end up doing religion studies or political studies, I'll kill myself. Speaking of which, I still haven't gotten to have my talk with the guidance councellor about my future. He canceled on Monday for Monday, re-scheduled for this morning but yesterday, I was informed he'd have to re-schedule for tomorrow. Will I everrrrr get to discuss my career and plans? I need some guidance(rofl). Moving on; I've been feeling so crap about myself lately. I've put on weight over Christmas and because of the state my back is in at the moment, I can't start aerobics or exercise. Seriously, I can't stop eating and my skin is breaking out and the more it happens, the more I need comfort food. I've been thinking of fasting. eating as little food as my parents will let me. I wasn't gorgeous before but now I'm just AGHH. Anytime I look in the mirror, I have to bite myself as a distraction. Hello, Mrs. Pretty-giving-overnight Fairy?



What's the deal with the delay in Haiti? It's been a week since the destroying, seven-second earthquake on the island and there still isn't enough aid going out there? In CSPE on Tuesday, Mr. Kennedy (substituting for the wicked witch Ms. McEnery) said that Haiti, being on the same geographical island as the Dominican Republic, was the first country of black slaves to rebel against the force controlling them, which was France. Ever since they 'had the cheek' to try to restore their freedom, they have been shunned by the surrounding area. It was the same with the natural disaster in New Orleans. New Orleans is populated mostly by African-Americans. No matter how much we deny it, America and a lot of other modern civilizations are incredibly conservative, and therefore racist. To get to my question, what fucking idiots hold a grudge from over 200 years ago, which stops them from helping people who experienced a disaster which could destroy their country? Comment.





Short post. Roight.
I must go because my back is causing my serious pain.
LUCY X

I wanna bathe you in the light of day...

The snow has died. It's clinging on for dear life in every nook, cranny and grey stained corner. But you know, the ice mistress is no match for the powerful, haunting grip of the rain king. I'm not so delighted at the recent return to normal weather, but I was getting totally fed up of all the snow. It was cold and icy and gave my 'rentals a reason to keep me inside and make me study. Speaking of study, I got my results back from the xmas tests. I did totally shit. I don't give a dog's bollock about the fucking christmas examinations, but the mocks are in 3 weeks time and I reeeaally gotta start working if I want to get better than D's. Encouragement, O Readers? Give me faith that mayhaps three weeks is enough to revise over three years. Oh yikes. It sounds dreadful. I've got 6 tests back so far. Let me give you a lowdown on what I got:

• English: 49% -Majorly disappointed with that result
• Irish: 57% - I thought that was pretty damn okay
• Geography: 48% - Disappointed again
• Maths: 25% - Failed, plus my parents freaked
• History: 81% - Vair unexpected, but I'm proud
• French: 74% - Expected but still proud

So y'all gotta give me something. Feedback on anything exam related. Your comments have been total crapola lately. Maybe it's because I'm an annoying hoe or something. Probably that of course. Does any other country have Christmas exams? I know that they have midterms? Do they have Summers? England have GCSE which are like our certs. Sigh, I am so confused. Let's just burn down all the schools do them all and get it over with.



Oh, yes, blog. I am a total Gleek. Unless you've been living under a Mexican convict's boat for the past year without internet connection, you'll have heard about Glee. Glee is a tv show that's kinda like someone poured vodka and red bull all over High School Musical. And I am obsessed. Utterly and totally. I've watched the first 3 episodes on 3e (Irish channel) and the others on Tv Shack. At the mo', it's my savior because I've been grounded for the weekend and they won't give me my motherfucking laptop (I'm on the apple now). Seriously, I talked about that disco for ages and getting my mojo back because a hot guy wanted to meet/snog me and now GRR they decided my exam results were bad enough to stop my happiness *melodramatic sigh*.

I've been writing this post for days. Seriously, I'm just epic fail. But my tiny little life is just the same everyday. I have gossip but anyone can access my blog and it's fucking risky. Also, btw, I know my blog sucks nuts. Fo' sho'. But it's my blog and you don't have to read it. *cough cough* Nicky. Why does all my posting lead back to me batting away criticism? Guess it comes with le territory. Blogs are outlets, so fark the haters. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love having followers, and getting comments and reading other people's blogs but in the end I have a blogger account for myself only. The people who care will follow and support and comment their opinions, good and bad. The people who don't care.. well I don't care. I'm sleepy.

We have to choose our senior cycle subjects before the end of the month. Parents went behind my back to try to put me in transition year, tonnes of respect for me there, eh? I'll just blow the interview. I have no clue what I want to do in the future. I suppose I wish I could be a Journalist like Veronica Guerin, a writer like George Orwell or a photographer like Ansel Adams. But they're dreams. In reality, I should do what the test told me: Keep my range between Ticket Checking and Check-out Worker. I really am clueless. I'm 14, and they're giving me a month to decide my future. Greeeat. Comment on that, I need some help.



I'd better go and put this rubbish-bin of a post to a close.
Ciao for now.
Lucy

(will sext for comments.. I JK btw *shifty eyes*)

Starbucks.

Here. A backing track for my unimportant whining >



It's still snowing. And it's annoying me a lot. I want all this horrible stuff to go away. What's the beauty in something that gives people pneumonia and causes road accidents? I was mesmerized at first, but jesus, it's just so frustrating now. Every time I stare out the window into the white abyss lying beyond, I just imagine a tall, thin, boney mistress; Twirling Earth in her hands, striking it with tough spindles of glass. Devouring us with porcelain teeth. Then, finally, she'll spit us back up for the honeymoon period of Spring, and then gradually fading out into the long, lazy days of Summer. The long lazy days of Summer filled with tears and broken hearts and new friends and cigarette smoke. And then back she comes again, swallowing us again, like some stretched out regurgitation period. My feelings are constantly changing about Winter. I'm not sure whether to run to her, arms wide open or to turn my back and ignore her, until she leaves. She's a faux ami. Perhaps I need one of those lightbox things. I've been crying way more than usual lately, and believe me, I cry a lot anyway. I need to grow up. Big girls don't cry, d'you know that?

Watched Glee. I'm totally in love with it. Honestly. I just want more, more, more. It's so sweet and I've only seen two episodes. Okay, this sounds weird, but when Finn jizzed in his pants when him and Rachel kissed, I was totally envious. Like, wow. I want someone who kisses. In my whole life, I've never once been properly kissed. It was always 'meeting'. I want someone to just kiss me; instead of playing fucking tonsil tennis. I'm such a brat, right? It's what your thinking about me. Naive little brat and when she finally finds teen romance, if she ever does or if it's even real, she'll throw it away. Of course I will. I'm a blooming idiot. But that's not my point. Back to my point. Well, if I ever found a person who makes me laugh, isn't embarrassed to be around me, and kisses like they mean it, I'd be all over them like cum on your mom. When I was a kid, I always imagined my first kiss so perfectly. Me and him, alone. Talking on a park bench or a wall. And then the conversation ends, and we just look at eachother. And then he runs his fingers along my jaw and kisses me, just a brush of our lips at first, but then leading on to real kissing. Like in Cinderella. *sigh* Stupid realism.

And Nicky is a soulless bastard who doesn't get my point. Am I crazy, seriously? I'm 14, I get it. But everyone else is around the same age and they've had some form of romance? Maybe I am just crazy and stupid. Well, farewell, off I go to listen to Death Cab For Cutie and talk to myself.

LUCY
XX
Comment?

Your lips touch every hand...

(click to enlarge, taken two days ago)


Snow and ice. It's everywhere. Today, in the cold, with the ethereal, gleaming cloak cracking beneath my feet, I thought about life and death. That tiny miniscule difference between them. One second and you're gone, words still in your mouth; your blood still warm. Snap of fingers. It's like Steve Irwin. Paramedics said that if he had left that stingray in his heart for one more second, he might have lived. I don't know if it's true (newspapers these days), but if it is, it's terrifying and brutal. Literally a moment in time can change everything. And then his brave daughter stepped in front of a crowd, told everyone of the strong man her father was. Wow. Being entirely honest, if my dad died and I was asked to speak in front of millions of people: I'd freeze. And cry and go home and crawl up with a blanket and just cry some more. I don't know what I'd do without my parents, even if they do hate me as much as they claim to. Even the thought is tear inducing. I feel so bad for orphans who never get that feeling of pure, untouched love that only a father or mother can bring. Imagine not having anyone to tuck you into bed at night when you're young, or someone to say you can do better after a break-up when you're not quite as young, or someone to chat about life when you're older. It's just constant winter for orphans. The cold front closing in 365.

On the bright side, I went out for dinner today. Miss Wong's fine chinese dining, can I getta what what? I finally had a reason to wear my sequinned gold dress. I wore it with: Black leggings, teal patent heels, and my purple cardigan. Straightened my hair, bud. I think I looked nice but the pictures I took state otherwise. Fat mess. Ahh. I need to start an exercise regime. If I weren't so bloody lazy. Laziness is like a disease. It grows and grows along with my tummy. Oh yes, and people called me a tramp today because I wear a skirt and the only pair of boots I have. A pair of tights, leggings over them, a gold (relatively short) tulip skirt, pointy-toed rubber platform boots and a hoodie and my coat. I used to think I didn't care and that I should take what I dish out, but today it really got to me. I always thought a tramp was someone who tried hard for others, but the only reason that I dress the way I do is because it makes me feel good about myself. In jeans, I look in the mirror and start bawling but in a skirt, I look nicer and my legs look longer. I don't know. I guess it's a self esteem thing. And my jeans were kinda dirty. Comment question: Am I a tramp? Be honest, crush my spirit. :P

Flyleaf, Lady Gaga and Michael Bublé albums are really good. AKA Memento Mori, The Fame Monster and Crazy Love. All the songs are stuck in my head. It's like total foot-tap mania. I highly recommend, song wise, the epic choonage of Alejandro - Lady Gaga, Chasm - Flyleaf, and Crazy Love - Micky Bubbles. It brightened my week, somehow. All the music. Ahh. Happy fun times.

I shall go, as I have nothing else to say.

LUCY
XX
Comment?
ILY