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. 🙂

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Announcement!

Hello!

It’s time for an announcement! I have set up a new blog dedicated to my ramblings where I will be moving my ‘Dear Diary’ weekly installments. I will post at least weekly so head on over here if you’re interested!

The reason for setting up a new site was to have separate spaces for my creative writing and my personal posts.

Thanks,

Dreamer Girl

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.

You’re the smirk, the smile

The tears running down my face;

You’re the embarrassed

Rush of blood to my cheeks

You’re all the goosebumps

Rising on my pale skin;

You’re the crinkle of

Worry on my forehead

You’re in every part of me, yet you

Do not know me:

Me, the girl that

You don’t see

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.

Faulty Humans and Frill-less Love

Today, write about anything — but you must write for exactly ten minutes, no more, no less.

Something that I can feel okay about being confused about, because it even confuses science is love.

Love is complicated, hard, amazing, so many things. Relationships are so intricate, even just with acquaintances. You never know how someone else really feels about you, and you have to trust that they are showing their honest, true self. So many people don’t even know that people have feelings for them, or are even in love with them. And then there’s the meaning of being ‘in love’. Some people take the meaning too lightly, some become obsessed and crazed.

Feelings are so difficult because they are often out of your control. You can’t stop yourself from being affected by things, it’s just natural. Yes, you can repress your emotions and hide them from others. That’s another complication. We only see a snapshot of someone’s life and sometimes we  judge them too heavily on that tiny part of their life, we assume, we create false images and ideas.

Humans have so many faults! How do so many people fall in love with someone that has done so many bad things?

Because they are human, and faults make up our lives, and build us into stronger versions of ourselves.

I think love is beautiful. The raw, real love that doesn’t need cheesy songs or any sort of frills. Just two people that like each other’s faults more than anyone else.

We hear of these happy stories of true love and cute old couples that have spent their lives together. I just want that. Even if it’s not for very long. Doesn’t everyone want that?

It makes me sad because the people that lie and cheat are just winding the tangle of lives and faults so that the people that are meant for each other have more trouble finding each other.

Love ramble over…

3 Songs, 3 Stories

Today, celebrate three songs that are significant to you. For your twist, write for fifteen minutes without stopping — and build a writing habit.

My first song is ‘Hurt’ by Johnny Cash. This song represents the really rough period I went through last year. While I was struggling with my emotions, trying to express them and just trying to get through every day, this song would remind me of my brother. It would make me forget all of the anger and pain that he caused, and I would just miss him. I would remember the way he used to play it on his guitar in his room, not realising that I was listening. Because of everything that has happened, it is still hard to listen to without feeling upset.

‘Iris’ by The Goo Goo Dolls is just one of those songs that you can never get tired of. It reminds me of so many things; of my childhood, of the long car journeys to my dad’s house, of the struggles of secondary school and trying to work out who I am. If I could sing really well, I would just belt it out because it has so much feeling to it.

And then, there is ‘Love Story’ by Taylor Swift. This means a lot to me because it reminds me of the first stages of growing up, from when I was eleven and every day I would sit in my room and listen to Taylor. It helped me when I was bullied, because she was so easy to relate to and sings like ‘The Best Day’ proved that eventually things would get better. It was her first massive hit in the UK and ever since then, I have always loved her and her music.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_assignment/writing-101-writing-practice/

What is beauty?

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/absolute-beauty/

Is beauty in the eye of the beholder?

Yes. i think beauty IS in the eye of the beholder. Except there’s a ‘but’. And the ‘but’ is that society has such a strong influence on how people perceive the world that many people follow the same beliefs and conventions. These ideas that have been drilled into people’s minds make me wonder if they weren’t so used to thinking that a certain feature is attractive, would they have a different opinion?

I understand that down to human nature, we are all attracted to features, which can be scientifically proven. This leads me on to question what beauty is. The definition: “a combination of qualities, such as shape, colour, or form, that pleases the aesthetic senses, especially the sight.”

But is this really what beauty is? I feel that emotions and personality have more to say than it seems about beauty. For instance, clothing isn’t just about physical appearance, but it can represent so much about a person and their character.

In my opinion, the most beautiful thing is sincerity. When something has not only a meaning, but a genuine, heartfelt meaning. Like a smile- it’s so easy to tell a fake smile, and to me it’s ugly. It’s a bright, sincere smile that I find beautiful. Even if it isn’t often that someone does smile, it’s better than always having a fake smile.

Music

I thought, since I was on the topic of music, I would write a list of my current favourite songs. When I think back to only a couple of years ago, my music taste has changed a lot. And I wouldn’t be surprised if in a few years I look at this list in disgust. But here goes…

(P.S. these are in no particular order)

  • I Miss You by Blink 182
  • Place For Us  and Pull Me Down by Mikky Ekko
  • Lullabies by Yuna
  • No Surprises by Radiohead
  • Casper by Russian Red
  • Happy Little Pill by Troye Sivan
  • Half The World Away by Oasis
  • The Middle by Jimmy Eat World
  • Landslide by Fleetwood Mac
  • human by Christina Perri
  • Shake It Off and Stay Stay Stay by Taylor Swift (Judge me, I don’t care!)
  • Friday I’m in Love by The Cure
  • Delicate by Damien Rice
  • Chandelier by Sia
  • I Won’t Let You Go by James Morrison
  • There Is A Light That Never Goes Out by The Smiths

I’ve also been listening to Spanish music as I’m studying A level Spanish. I was pleasantly surprised to find out that Beyonce 1) can sing in Spanish and 2) has recorded a few of her songs in Spanish. I must admit that I did listen to Libre Soy, The Spanish version of Let It Go from Frozen…