Master Seagull

I know this will be my second blog post today, but it's 1 am and the powers that be are dening me sleep. It is possible that by the end of this post I will be asleep when i need to be awake.
Perhaps cutting down on the mass amounts of sugar would help. There are things i want to write about an get out of my system, but in the back of my head there is a little part of me (not one i like much) that says "you can't write that!" Now i stand here - well sit and type - asking why do we fear communicating the truth of life so much? Why? I do respect that there is a limit, and at that point we must question our own thought systems. What i mean is the truth of life.

For example, have you ever found yourself inventing phrases to explain in a very cyptic way that you were ill? Or even taking a deep breath and then continuing an explaination to somthing in a very hushed serious voice at a speed that defies physics? Well i say to you people of the world, if what you are about to say is an undenible truth then feel free to say it. We are human and as such we do have faults.

It has also reached my attention that we do this with stories from our lives as well. What is it about the internet that makes us think that everybody in the world can see us? I know for a fact that this blog does not get many hits, but still i will write as if the whole street is in my room watching me with eagle eyes.

It is fairly obvious from my own experinace that people tend to hate things that are not pointing to some kind of truth (surreal or real), and we all loath it when wikipedia has false infromation on it. Even fiction points to a kind of truth that can be addapted to all stiuations. Maybe we like this mix of lies and truths?

There may be the slight chance that it is just me. Please post comments, i will not judge you.

I shall attempt to end this peice of writing on a happy note.
Mum and i happened to chance upon my younger siblings Nintendo DS. Curiosity grabbed us and we began to play the game that was inside it, "cooking mama" which turned out to be a highly addictive game about cooking food. After an hour of cursing at the screen with such insults as "what do you meen i've failed at cutting a cucumber?" we managed to get the hang of it. Mum then turned to me and said "Shall we cook some reall food now?"

I survived to 19 years old

Yes. It has come to pass that i have turned 19 years old. I know i don't have any reson why i can't get older, but every year when i reach my birthday I can't help feeling so amazed that i have mangaed to live for another year. To mark the event Falin and I went to Reingdale (yes i know thats not how you spell it). It was mainly for the walks that i wanted to go, even if it was raining, and get back to the place i love so much. It rained in waves, which Falin didn't like much. However, it was a brilliant birthday of which i would like to thank everybody for.

Since then life has become very slow, hence i have the time to type somthing here. Falin is coming over to my house a lot and things between us get better and better (so i feel), but i can't help feeling very detached from him as if he's about to dissapere again. I thought he was happy where he was before he came back, but from what he tells me i feel like hes telling two tales. Alas. I love him, i really do. Who knows what will happen next.

Tomorow i shall attempt to make vegan marshmallows, which shall be a world of fun. Somthing to get lost in for a few days.

Short Stories from a dreaming insomiac

He looked over the golf course and the lights of Stornoway that never go out. It was now that time of the early morning when every sence is working at surgical precision, and the full moon was begining to set. Celeb wished that she could be here, even if it was just to see the stunning silence of it all. It was interesting comtemplating the idear of slipping though Blade's bedroom window and taking her up to the bunkers to watch the sunrise, and though she might be asleep Blade was so very easy to wake up. The sunlight became a hazy aray of colours as he mused over dear memories. If only he didn't get so stressed about trying to be prefect around her. "Fear,"he thought "Bloody fear, I love her. I love her!"

The colours in the sky became more intense which seemed to grow with the feelings in his heart. A tear dropped down into his hands, and the one tear was followed by several. He just did not know what to do anymore, it was all so simple. And no matter what Celeb would always love her.

The leaves on the ground behind him rustled. Celeb turned around and watched intently with blurred eyes. He sniffed the air.

A voice came from out of the darkness.
"It will all work out in the end. Everything will be fine. Just let go of your fear."

Celeb continued to listen intently but nothing more was said. Nothing. Only a feeling of relife and calm came over him, as if Blade was there with him, holding his hand.

Suddenly somthing grabbed his foot. He kicked out and screamed out of shock. A smiling face greated him, Blades eyes twinkling at him in the early morning sun while she genltaly hugged him.

It's so good it is almost erie...

The person I cryed for three months over and watched the harbour religously to see any sign of has come back. Any normal person would be thrilled and over-joyed, but I can't help thinking that it is all far too good to be true. There must be a document of small print behind this happyness. Must I ever be the one with the bleeding heart? The broken memories? Maybe it will always be this way. He says he loves me. But instinc tells me otherwise.

It seems to be that this needs some time to think this though.

lynx

Has anybody else noticed that the labling of packaging is getting a little weird? Recentaly i happened to really take notice of a can of Lynx "dark temptation" spray...i kid you not on the back is written "Chocolate fragranced/scented bodyspray. This is not a food. Do not ingest."
I have only one question flashing in my mind like a 5 foot neon light display. What was going though their mind?

Sir/madam. I would love to share thoughts with you.

Today I bit the bullet. I have begun an oil painting. It is truly a weird experiance as it feels like painting with a mixture of the finest of silk and plastacine. The theme is based around Saturn and all its energies, which everyone in the house is keen to have a look at. Not to mention the attention the smell of paint thinner is attracting.

Will post photo of the finished result here when it is done.
I'm going to get back to work.

Ramblings

So, there are now only 6 days left of school. The end of an era. I constantly try to remind myself of all the good times, but they are few in number and i will be so utterly overjoyed when it comes to an end. I'm now down to counting the ours i have left in school. Perhaps i will miss it when i'm living by myself in Sponish.

9th day of the 4th month of the 9th year of the 2nd millennium A.D

Giving each day a ridiculously long title seems to make the days more significant, and hence motivation to fight another day comes. This is the theory. Mind you everyday is what it is anyway no matter what label we give it, and since giving Fridays the label of "happy day" they seem to get worse and worse every week. Or in the case of days that people give special significance, such as Christmas or Valentine's day, you know you should be happy and everything should go to plan because it's a "magical" day. Your mind or indeed other's minds around you will have completely different outlook on the event and act accordingly, as moody and unsocialable as a deep sea creature.

The prospect of going back to school for the last term is looming over my head like a dark looming thing. It is the last few weeks I will EVER have to go back to school. Mind you, now that i think about it, what are al the exicted 6th years and myself really venturing into apart from leaving one form of control and into another. Only this one dresses itself as freedom. Dispite trying not to make many close friends this year there are a few whom i shall cry my eyes out over knowing that i might never see them again. Then again, I was never good at saying goodbye. Just dissapereing suddenly without a trace.

The exams are very close now. Too close. Everytime i sit down to revise my mind wanders off down some wooded road, past the Brandywine River and away.

Maybe it is my minds way of putting off thinking about leaving home, and i'm not afraid to admit that i'm feeling less than confident as regards to leaving home. Yet, it might not be so bad if i just throw myself into the deep end, at least that way you can look back and say "Ye Gods, remember how hard it was at the start of this". And to be honest, I prefere just jumping in and getting on with things rather than all this waiting around knowing somthing is going to happen and not knowing when.

I keep thinking to myself "What would King Aurthur do?", and then i remember that he would ask Merlin and go off on a quest to find somthing holy.

To Uist with you my dear

The art is tucked away in a folder, the tickets have been bought, the bag is nearly packed. Saddly the rest is lying in a state of confusion. I am off on an epic adventure...to Uist. I know it's not an epic adventure and I will never write a novel about it, but it might be the thing that changes the rest of my life. The one thing it will have a massive impact on wheather i continue to paint and draw or not. Why I hear you ask? The collage in Lochmaddy has invited me down for an interview to get into a BA art course.

For once things seem to be going smoothly. The powers that be are up to somthing...tis not natural for things to be so easy.

This may be to balance out the weird dreams i've been having. My dreams tend to sway between prediction or completly surreal. This time both merged. They always seem to be centered around someone i used to know-a lad called Alex-he always has really dark shadows around his eyes. It could be nothing but a symbolic dream which i haven't quite worked out yet, however, i will worry till i can see him face to face to be completly sure that he is okay. Other dreams involve being told that i'm a were-wolf and going though all the motions of being one. Or having fethered wings. They are peacful dreams, and in a strange way i almost feel whole.

I shall write more when i come back, I don't know when that will be and i don't know how, but somthing has become clear to me. My home is here. And here is were i will always return.

Looking at the letters of the past

Alas, I have been looking at all my old e-mails and finding that some of the people i used to know really were as i thought they were-ablsolute twits. Never mind, they have changed so much in the 4 or 5 years i have knew them. I am also begining to relise that the love i gave was not appreciated and i can happily say that i can do without all this "girlfriend-boyfriend" thing. I always give too much to people who take great benifit from it and then slap me in the face. Best to be alone and to watch the world from a distance.

The only thing i really love at the minute is my insomnia, which is alowing me to create with a free mind. Even though the causes are not so inspiring. However, the average hours of sleep i'm getting is 4-8 hours a night. Is this healthy? There must be somthing in the water.

Anyway, i am off to finish my charcol rendition of a dragon.