An Explanation

Where’s Dreamer Girl? What happened to her challenges? Poetry? Fiction? Comments and likes on other posts?

A number of things have been getting on top of me lately. Mainly school, but also some personal issues. The hardest thing has been the inability to express myself through writing, because that has always been my coping method. Recently, I have  been too exhausted to sweat out those difficult feelings into poetry or prose. I’m getting the help that I need and hopefully as things improve I will find ways to express myself again. But for the moment, my writing is going to be put on hold.

I apologize for not reading and commenting on posts, and I am trying to get back into blogging.

DG

P.S. As I build myself back up to writing creatively, I am going to try to post more on my newer blog Dreamer Girl’s Journal, which will mainly be rambles and unedited thinking-out-loud type posts. So if you’re interested I would really appreciate it if you head on over to that site. 🙂

1am thoughts

I don’t know who you are.
I don’t know your name,
But you make me turn my music up loud;
You make me want to throw my arms open to the moonlit sky,
And cherish the hidden beauty
In spider webs and tattered books…

Sometimes you feel so far away,
So impossible it makes me ache,
But some trace of hope lingers-
Tells me to just wait a little longer,
You might be lost!
You don’t know me.
You don’t know my name.

I wonder, do I make your heart beat faster,
At the thought of a thousand new possibilities?
Do I make you look into the depths of the sky and wonder?

I hope you like blink 182,
And poetry and rainy days.
I hope you want to travel the world,
And have a never ending bucket list.

But if you don’t that’s okay;
I’ll have time to make you listen to ‘I Miss you’
And go for longs walks in the rain.
Even if that doesn’t persuade you
It won’t matter because you’ll still love me,
And I’ll still love you.

A million miles away,
In a different world, it seems…
I wonder if you’re awake and
Flying through these 1am thoughts.
Do you ever wonder about me?
Do you have the same buzz of excitement combined with those pangs of doubt?

I’ll wait for you however long it takes, my dear
You just might have to find me in New York or Paris,
Barcelona!
Wherever life takes me in search
Of meaning beyond the borders of the little I know;
Until then I’ll try not to worry
About not being able to find you,
Or notice you among the crowds.
My heart might be cracked in places
By the time it reaches you,
But you can have it, imperfections and all,
And on that day I’ll have yours, too.

Endless Possibility

The idea that everything is connected becomes most interesting when applied to ourselves. For this week’s writing challenge, tell us about your own Butterfly Effect

It is the single tiny thing that caught my eye,

The little curving line below your lip,

That only adorned a true smile,

Or a hearty laugh.

That same little line now traps me

Behind bars of torment and pain,

Each time the memory flashes before me;

A tiny line is carved into me.

And every time I think of your beauty,

Of your magical imperfection

That the line taught me to find in you,

It pushes deeper into the wound

Knowing that I’ll never see the

Tiny part of you

Which started it all

And I can’t help but think

If that mark of happiness

Never accompanied your smile

Would I have ever known you?

Would we ever have been together?

Would I have ever fallen in love?

We are given so many opportunities, it is hard to know which ones we should take. The endless possibility of the world is both exciting and overwhelming.

Relationships are already tough. It only takes one tiny thing, the flap of a butterfly wing, to break. And once the bond that took so long to build has fallen, there’s no going back. It’s unlikely things will ever be the same between those two people. Often, couples wrapped up in love that they become oblivious to the fragile nature of love and relationships. Even the most happy couple could easily be split up within a matter of moments.

Then, there are the forces we cannot control; the forces that cause the death and destruction we can only watch powerlessly.

From the processes that brought us life on this planet, to the processes that brought you the clothes you are wearing, millions of tiny things have built up. So, if one, just one of those things were different, would the end product be the same?

Be it a comfort or a cause of hopelessness, we can’t escape the possibility. We can only try our best at being human and see what becomes of our lives.

Audrey Hepburn

Audrey Hepburn is an inspiration to me. I don’t just love her fashion, but her attitude to life. There are so many quotes from her that I love that I can’t pick a favourite.

Earlier this year I went to Madam Tussauds (if that’s how you spell it?) and I got my picture taken with her Breakfast at Tiffany’s waxwork. Then, my friend bought me a boxset of her films and I fell in love with Roman Holiday and Sabrina. To me, she is such an icon because even after so many years, people like me still enjoy her work. She has a timeless beauty and elegance and such a positive outlook on life, which I wish I had more of. I aspire to be like her, if only in attitude.

Even when she was a major star, she didn’t let fame go to her head and didn’t change herself:

“Success is like reaching an important birthday and finding you’re exactly the same.”

In terms of fashion, I like her style. She could look gorgeous and elegant, and attractive to men without showing everything like so many celebrities do now-just watch pretty much any chart music video.

“There is more to sex appeal than just measurements. I don’t need a bedroom to prove my womanliness. I can convey just as much sex appeal, picking apples off a tree or standing in the rain.”

I hope she will live on as an icon to girls like me long into the future, because I think we need more people like Audrey in the world.

Some other quotes:

“Nothing is impossible, the word itself says ‘I’m possible’!”

“As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands, one for helping yourself, the other for helping others.”

“When you have nobody you can make a cup of tea for, when nobody needs you, that’s when I think life is over.”

A Tiny Little Ring, A Tiny Little Part of Me

Writing 101: The Things We Treasure 

What is my most prized possession?

Since most of my challenge responses are related to childhood, my first thought was my teddy bear. I’ve had him since I was two or three and despite my growth and realization that he isn’t actually that big, he goes by the name of Big Bear. But if I’m honest, I would  be able to sleep without him. I have, a few times. His awkward size meant there wasn’t room in suitcase or rucksacks on trips. That doesn’t mean I don’t want him anymore. I hope to one day pass him on to my son or daughter, however tatty and old.

So, after thinking more deeply, I think that my most prized possession in terms of what it means to me is my ring. Apart from this one ring, I only have a couple of rings, which I don’t wear very often. This ring is a tiny little gold plated one with a heart shaped aquamarine stone, for my astrological sign-Aries. My mum bought it for me when I was thirteen, I think. Ever since she gave it to me, I have always worn it. When I can’t find it after I took it off to get a shower or bath, I have a sudden sense of panic. It seems to have thinned slightly and when I’m not wearing it, it could be mistaken for one of those kiddie’s toy rings.

But the reason this ring means so much to me, is that it reminds me that I am different, and that it’s a good thing. I feel like, even though I don’t really believe in horoscopes (but sometimes it’s fun to see what they say!) embracing a part of me, however tiny, and wearing it everyday makes me feel unique and special.

This ring will always remind my of my mum. And I know that in the future when I’m miles and miles away, studying at university, travelling, living with a partner, building a new family and whatever else I will be reminded of her and how much I love her every time I see the ring.

I have problems with marriage. Having divorced parents and watching the effects of so many failed marriages, I am wary of it. And thinking of rings, symbolizing a commitment, kind of scares me. I have a lot to say about marriage, so I’ll come back to that another time. But what I like about my ring is that it doesn’t have so much meaning and worth at risk. I’ll never have to give back this ring. I’ll never have to take it off to deceive someone (not that I would ever cheat) It can mean a lot to me, or it could seem pretty to me. Its up to me.

Another great thing about this ring is that it’s more likely to stay with me. People grow out of clothes, lose old toys, things get stolen. My hands might get a little wrinkly-or a lot-but they will still wear the ring. I hope that one day my little boy or girl, or one of my grandchildren will point at my ring and ask ‘where did you get that’? And I will tell them how I got it and how I’ve carried it through my life. It’s been through all of the things I have faced. It’s only tiny, and only represents a tiny part of me, but it means the world to me. Thanks, mum, for reminding me that I’m different.

.

Failure

Writing 101: Your Personality on the Page

What am I scared of?

Failure. Feeling like I have failed myself, or-even worse- others. I have always been one of those people that tries to please everyone. I used to get upset when things went wrong, when I caused a problem, when someone didn’t like me. But I have learned that some things you can’t control; you can’t expect everyone to like you! Still, I can’t help but feel like I have to make it up someone that doesn’t seem to like me.

When I say failure, I don’t mean little mistakes or accidents. I can cope with that. I mean flaws that were caused by me, that give me the responsibility for a downfall. I fear failure because of pressure to succeed. And it’s mainly from myself. My parents were never pushy or pressuring, or even that strict. Whenever we got reports at school, my mum would laugh because she didn’t need to put any pressure on me to do well-I always pressured myself. And I did do well. I’m one of those dark horses, always in the top set/class but quietly forgotten, until I shock everyone on results day. Nobody knows that to do so well I did so much revision my eyes spun, I went through several meltdowns and didn’t see my dad for months.

It’s not just school, though. I tend to be a perfectionist in most of the things I do. My idea is that if you do something, you have to give it meaning, and that usually means working hard. One of the reasons I love writing is because there are no right answers; you are free to express yourself with only the barriers you set yourself.

Fear dictates my confidence level. When I feel I have failed something or someone, it convinces me I am not good enough. I fall to a low that takes up to weeks and months to get out of. This is a vicious circle, making me fear failure even more because I don’t want to lose MORE confidence.

I used to have a huge fear of forgetting the memories I had spent my life making. Part of that fear was being a worrier, and I mean a really big worrier. I used to worry about every little thing. I’m not as bad now, but of course, I’m a teenager-there are plenty of things I worry about.

Growing up scares me, too. This time next year I will be seventeen. I could be driving. I will be applying for the university that I have visited and picked. I will have done my AS level exams. Some of my friends will be turning eighteen. It’s scary enough thinking a year ahead, never mind any further! I don’t know what I want to do with my life when I leave school. All I know is that I want to write.

How I Cope With Stress: Exams

It’s the night before an important event: a big exam, a major presentation, your wedding. How do you calm your nerves in preparation for the big day?

I’ve had a lot of nerves to cope with this year: 21 exams, a speech at prom to around 250 people, doing a summer program with new people I’d never met before, starting sixth form. So, I can say that I have developed a few different ways of coping with stress the night before. Most of these ideas are for during an exam season.

For each exam, I would compile a summary of all the notes at least a week before the exam, and I would spend no more than half an hour reading through these notes the night before the big day. This seemed to reassure me that I had learned everything, as each point I went over I would think ‘oh, I know that!’. Any more reading would make me worry and panic that I hadn’t revised enough (when I REALLY had!).

I must admit that I didn’t do this enough, but going for runs or walks really helps to physically deal with nerves, or any negative emotion. I don’t have a bike, but bike rides are just as good for you. Don’t overdo it, though, 10-15 minutes a couple of times a week is fine.

Staying healthy always helped me because it gave me a positive attitude, which made me more confident in myself. So, I like to have smoothies and try to stick to 5-a-day. A lot of people my age don’t have breakfast, and it is something I still struggle with, but forcing myself to eating something, anything, rather than nothing at all often helps. Attempting to do exams or the like running on no energy is going to be really hard, so I think this is one of the most important tips.

But, in terms of the night before, eating a filling dinner means you’re more likely to sleep well. A treat like chocolate or biscuits can’t hurt either, and is a nice comfort to help relax. I usually go for cheesecake, ice cream or Oreos.

A long bath soak with a book or music, or both, always seems to help me. I usually do this before I go to bed because I feel relaxed so I’m less likely to stay up worrying.

Doing something you enjoy can distract you from nerves. Personally, I write in my journal or a blog post, watch youtube videos or TV, read and listen to music.

I learned that during the exam season, you have to be selfish. Friends become a lower priority, and that’s ok because you have plenty of time in the holidays to make up for not seeing them as much. My advice is to avoid social media, especially Facebook the night before an exam. Talking to people in the same situation can stress you out more if they are struggling to cope. Also, don’t feel like you have to reassure everyone else; just focus on yourself. This is what I mean about being selfish. It’s not being mean, it’s just allowing yourself to do the best you can, which is what you deserve.

Though, if you’re feeling so nervous that it’s making you upset you must talk to someone. Let it out to a family member, teacher or a friend. Make sure you don’t suffer in silence if nerves are severely affecting you.

Getting a good night’s sleep is often really hard to do because nerves keep you up, but it’s vital to do well the next day. So, some light exercise like I mentioned is good to wear you out a bit, so you’re more sleepy. Then, I like to listen to music for a while and read in bed. It’s very tempting, but going on phones or laptops makes you less likely to sleep because of the white light. If I want to do that, I try and finish browsing the internet or whatever earlier in the evening. I read until I feel pretty tired and then I turn off the light and try to go to sleep. If I’m honest, this doesn’t always work and I lie awake for a while. But reading before is better than spending hours lying awake, stressing about the next day.

Often thoughts that keep you up at night are negative and depict the worst case scenario. Tell yourself this and focus on something else. I usually try to imagine a happy, peaceful scene, like an ideal holiday or an event I’m looking forward to.

I hope this helps anyone with a big day coming up!

Was that really four years ago?

Today, tell us about the home you lived in when you were twelve. For your twist, pay attention to — and vary — your sentence lengths

Branches and leaves, spiders and ants.I’d found a little haven, tucked behind the shed. A faded plastic ledge offered a small, but welcoming seat to be concealed by the thick tangles of bush.

Past the shed and it’s belly of books-which seemed to always be over fed- was the tiny garden. A circle of grass and pebbles and a neat little stack of potted herbs. Only just enough space for three cartwheels. Maybe a couple of handstands.

The sloped roof with my bedroom window jutting out mirrored the rest of the street. Inside, my cabin bed only just managed to fit in my minute room, with a little space on the floor for me to lie and contemplate life and existence. One of my favourite twelve year old pastimes.

My bedroom used to belong to a baby, with thick wooden shelves, designed for nursery rhyme books, and little wardrobe handles to match the walls, which had been painted over in lilac at my request.

My next favourite place was the loft. Though horribly cold, it was the only place where I could get lost for hours with my dollhouse. No, I didn’t ‘play’. I decorated, I planned, I organised, until I would have been the top interior designer of the doll house world.

The long, laminated floors of the living room, although unknown to my twelve year old self, would be the space for hours of blanket gliding at Christmas time. And the front garden home to a trampoline, which would eventually be eaten away by ice and rust. Years of laughing in the dining room at my sister’s face covered in spaghetti. The wall of photos smiling at me in black and white would accumulate more and more of my smiles.

In the small village, a bus journey from the world of school; a walk from my best friend’s house and a an even shorter walk to the shop. And in the shop was over-priced chocolate. Chocolate!

Stop reading if you don’t like cheesecake!

You’re about to enter a room full of strangers, where you will have exactly four minutes to tell a story that would convey who you really are. What’s your story?

Who am I really?

I am a teenager trying to grip hold of the little girl inside me that is gradually drifting away; and cowering away from womanhood that looms ahead. Here is my story.

I was born in Chester and it wasn’t long until my parents divorced, when I was age four. It’s not the divorce that I remember, or that hurt me-it was what came after it, and what still goes on now. Yes, my dad cheated. And in short, I am still not fully okay with this.

But young four year old me was protected for some time by naivety. As I grew up, moving house to places across England, I developed into a shy girl. I went through a series of best friends, who left me, or were left by me, who turned out to be bullies or just drifted from. While the bullying and the anxiety gnawed away at me, I was too lost in my shell to realize that one day those things would make me stronger. And over the years, I have developed, as they say, a thicker skin.

More recently I have been through more, and being aware and unprotected by the cocoon of innocence and naivety, it has affected me more deeply. I have lost people I loved. I have met new people I hated. I have spent months trying to work out how to deal with the effects of these things. One of the best ways was through writing. Even now, speaking daunts me, so writing has always been my strong point because it such a liberating way to express your thoughts and emotions.

I think I am allowed to call myself a dark horse, because I always seem to surprise some people when I succeed. Either because I was working hard, but so quietly they forgot about me, or they just never saw me as competition. But my GCSE results are an example of something I have worked very hard to be proud of.

A select group of friends know what I am like when I am being myself, and not the quiet me. Then, I am crazy, silly sometimes, but still as caring-I hope-as usual. If you want to get on my good side, I love oreos, cheesecake and chocolate. I am mildly offended when people say they don’t like any of these divine creations.

Hobby-wise, I like to read, write poetry, walk or jog, listen to music, watch action films, make cards and sometimes draw, watch youtubers, go to concerts/festivals, sing in a choir, hide at the back in the school production, hold my rabbits, have gorgeous lie-ins and be an idiot with my friends.

I am trying very hard not to take life too seriously. (That sounds a bit like an oxymoron…) There’s not much left to know about me! I like honest people; honesty is the most important quality  to me. Oh and I’m sixteen years old, studying A-levels and hoping to go to uni and then become a writer of some sort. And, despite the English rain and other disappointments in my life, I have to say it’s a pretty good life.

Defying Difficulties to Help Others

Explore what that kindness means to you, and share it with others.

It wasn’t random, it was a series of frequent, persistent acts of kindness that seem most memorable to me. When I moved house, I no longer rode the bus to school. But I still went on it when I would go round to my friend’s house. I am pretty sure the bus driver knew that I had moved, but since then-and even when I told him I had moved house- he pretended I still lived in the village and had a bus pass, meaning I didn’t have to pay. Maybe it was because when I was much younger, in my first year of secondary school, I insisted on writing EVERYONE a Christmas card,  and I gave him one. I don’t know. And I don’t know if I’m the only one he does this for. But it’s still makes me smile and is one of the acts of kindness I remember the most.

Once, I got lost in Disney world Florida when I was about seven. I didn’t even realise my family had walked off at first. But when I stopped playing and started to cry, I remember a woman walking me to the section she worked in, which sold Dr. Seuss books. She let me read them, while she rang her colleagues to find the rest of my family. And I don’t really remember crying, because I think she made me feel safe, better. I’m sure my dad thanked her, but it wasn’t until I looked back at the memory, older, that I appreciated her kindness. 

My last random act of kindness was during my recent school trip. My friends and I were desperate to go to the fairground so we raced there when the teachers allowed us some free time. To go on a ride, you had to have a certain amount of tokens, which you could buy from a machine. Loading all my change in, to get as many as I could, I gazed around at the flash of lights and laughed at the screams of terror. Sooner than I thought, those screams belonged to me-a mixture of excitement and fear. And even sooner, it seemed we had to get back to the meeting point as our free time dwindled away. Shoving my hands into my pockets as I left a ride, I felt a couple of tokens still left. I looked at my best friend, who was doing the same thing and we shared that look of when you can read someone else mind. Then, we walked to the first person we saw, an old lady with her grandchildren and poured our small piles of tokens. All I could hear as we zipped our way through the crowds was her ‘thank you’ as her smile crinkled the skin around her eyes. 

I believe kindness means defying whatever obstacles come up with the intention to help someone. For example, doing something that might be humiliating for you just because you know it will cheer someone up. And this links to current social media and the ability to post uncensored, anonymous comments. Because when it is easy to be hateful and abusive, it means being kind is resisting the hateful nature of the many comments made by ‘keyboard warriors’ in order to make an honest, thoughtful reply to the piece of information or media. So, I believe kindness, is making the time- rather than posting a nasty remark, which takes seconds- and the effort to do that thing to help someone. And an honest, thoughtful comment is much more likely to help someone because criticism is constructive, while saying ‘you’re stupid’ or something similar gives that person nothing to build from, just a knock to their confidence. 

Confidence, I think, is closely related to kindness, too. Especially in terms of being kind to yourself. Because if you don’t believe in your self, you don’t believe it is worth doing something kind for yourself. And this negativity tends to affect others badly as well. I can openly admit that there have been times when I should have been kinder to myself due to confidence. But, also, situation and relationships with others can affect the way you treat yourself. Earlier this year, I felt like going to my dad’s every other weekend was a struggle, not just because of the difficulty in doing homework and revision, but because of tensions in the family. So, I made a decision that was kind to myself and told my dad that I couldn’t visit for a while. And I stood by my decision despite the way some of my relatives reacted. Doing that, defying the guilt and worries, made me happier and I’m proud of that. That big step has made me realise that it is easier than you think to be kind to yourself when you need a change, whether it is big or small. 

In conclusion, I think that kindness has a significance in my life, which is greater than I realised. Kindness boosts positivity and confidence, which drives me to do new things and be kind to others, too.