Writing lists so she didn't forget

a to-do for today, tomorrow and yet

she forgot to remember

what she remembered to forget

here.

He said he cares.

"I guess this makes it all sound like I don't care about you, but I do."

I'm not sure where this thing that we have is going, but I don't think I need to be sure in order to enjoy myself.

I don't want to care anymore.

But what do I do if I can't stop feeling?

Can't stop worrying?

The littlest things get to me.

I worry too much.

And I just can't stop worrying, no matter how much I try.

Sometimes I wish I could stop feeling.

I wish I didn't care

I wish I could stop thinking

I don't want to lose myself.

I spend too much time considering others.

Some people would consider that a strength.

I would consider it a flaw.

I wish I could act without considering others.

I really do.

pictures.

A trip to the beach.

Dead

lifeless bodies

littered the sand.

Wings outstretched

eyes

forever open

but they do not see anything

any more.

Rust

countless old bottles

aching

to be filled

with messages

then set afloat

into that big

blue world.

Driftwood

bent and twisted

polished smooth

by the pounding waves

and the

turning

of the sands.

Fish

mouths gaping

dried straight and stiff

eye sockets empty

two black holes

waiting for the

water

to claim them.

once more.

(All photographs taken by me)

I'm not sure what this is
or if it means anything.

These things I'll never say.

Night Terror

Shaking and trembling

she lies

a feeling of unease

as she falls asleep

the dream begins

and

unexplainable terrors

fill her night

falling

sobbing

she drags herself

asleep

into a corner

and cries

parents rush in

she won't be woken

screaming and crying

she wakes

but the feeling remains

she'll never forget

When I was younger, I used to have night terrors.

I would scream out, and cry and my parents would hold me as I thrashed around.

Sobbing, I would cry out for my Mum, as if I didn't know that she was right beside me.

My Mum told me that it broke my Dad's heart to have to watch and hear me crying out.

Once I had a night terror while I was staying at my Nan's.

She didn't know what to do, so she watched as I crawled out of bed, still asleep, and into a corner while I cried.
She didn't do anything.

I still remember that feeling, and it scares me when I feel it.

I don't have night terrors anymore.

 

Dear Me, 5 years ago.

Please don't worry. Its going to become a habit, and you won't be able to stop it. Just relax.

Boys are going to trouble you for the rest of your life, so don't worry about them either. While you're young, you shouldn't have to worry about them, you'll find him someday, even if its not in the way you expect.

Just be yourself, don't worry about how you look, or if other people judge you, if they do, then they're not worth thinking about.

Friends come and go. While you may think that you'll be friends with them always, that's not always the case. They leave, as many people do, but in their place better people will come.

I wish I could tell you this, and make things easier for you. If only you knew what I knew now, then maybe you wouldn't have worried about the little things so much.

With love,
Me.

Me.

I am shy, I try too hard, I like to be different, I can't live without music, I have a fascination with clouds, I wish at 11.11 and 12.34, My wishes never really come true, I read, I try to find the words that I know are there, I just haven't found them yet, My writing is best at night, I like it when I know all the words to a song, I like it when we have a deep conversation, I fear other's judgement, I am unsure a lot of the time, and you make me more unsure than ever before,

Words.

My head was filled with so many words. So many useless, pointless words.

When I finally opened my mouth, I expected them to all come racing out, one after the other, in a long string, like the carriages of a train.

But nothing came out.

Maybe if I tell myself that I won't everyday, then it will sink in.

And then I won't want to leave.

Link.

I always wanted to be 17.

Well, not always, it was just something that, in the last two years, I looked toward becoming.

17 seemed so sophisticated. Old, but not old enough for all the responsibilities that come with turning 18, responsible, but young enough for it to be okay to still depend on my parents.

It seemed like the age of freedom, not from school, but from...I actually don't know what from. It's different than I thought. More difficult. It seems to be all about school, and drama with friends. Hot days, and fighting at home. Homework and assessments, Work, and days off. Looking forward to the holidays because I don't have to put up with school for six whole weeks. Late nights and sleep-ins. Staying up until everyone else has already gone to bed and the house is silent, and trying not to make any noise while I brush my teeth, or get a snack at 2 in the morning. Waking up feeling more tired than before I slept, but when night-time comes, I'll do it all again. Having the time to read long books that I don't have to analyse, or find any deeper meaning in, unless I wish to.

But for now, I wait.

I'd have to agree with you there.
But it will be ok :)

It's ok.

Your words
hesitant and unsure
tell me
about what you discovered.
You uncovered a secret
of mine
that I didn't share
with others.
But I don't mind
know that
it gives comfort
to know that
you knew
and still didn't judge me
for my words.

A Letter.

Dear Lilah,
or rather,
Dear Grace.

I wasn't I'm still not sure how to write this.

This will all sound mismatched and out of order, because I don't know how to.

I didn't realise at first, I didn't realise at all until your post today.
But I realised even before I read your name at the bottom.

It made me feel better too, even though I didn't know you, having a friend who wouldn't judge me for what I wrote.

When I said that I didn't want you to read my blog, it was because its a personal thing of mine – you would understand, having a blog of your own. But its personal because the people that have read it on here won't read into it, and won't judge, like some of the people from school or in the group would. Because there are things on here that I wouldn't share in a conversation at school. It would be hard for one of my friends, our friends to suddenly read this blog, starting at the end and making their way to the start. They wouldn't understand it, would jump to conclusions, and ask questions. That is why I wouldn't like them to read this blog. But you and anyone else that has been reading this blog from blogger wouldn't have started from the finish, you've been with me during the time that I wrote these posts. You haven't judged, and haven't questioned me about my writing. So you see, it's different.

You said that you didn't and won't judge me for what I have written, and that you wouldn't breathe a word about it. I didn't, and I won't judge you for what you have written either, and I will not breathe a word of what you have written. It's personal, and how could I judge you for sharing something so personal?

Its happened before, a few of my friends, you would know them too, have stumbled upon my blog. But they didn't judge, and didn't comment on what I wrote, so it didn't bother me all that much for them to have read it.

Because you have allowed me to read what you have written, we are in the same boat.
So I don't mind that you have read my blog.
I just hope that you might feel the same about me reading yours.

I know things will be different, and we can pretend that we don't know each other and write like normal, not caring. Or we can unfollow each others blog, and not read any more.
But I don't want to do that. Your blog is one of my favourites, and I really enjoy reading your writing.

But I'm willing to keep writing, and writing as normal, because I trust that you won't judge me, or talk about my writing with anyone. And I will do the same if you choose to continue as well. You have my word that I won't spill your words, that I won't judge your writing. (Although if you choose to not continue writing, or sharing your words, I will miss them greatly. I've really enjoyed reading them, and I think you're a really talented writer :) )

Whatever you wish to be known as, whether it be Lilah or Grace, it doesn't change that.

Don't be sorry about the whole Tumblr thing. I stopped writing personal things on my tumblr because a lot of our friends started to follow it, and there were too many questions being asked. I don't believe you will judge me now, after all this, so it is ok :)

I was finally able to use my real name, because I felt as if I didn't need to hide anymore. I'm not sure what made me choose to do that, but I'm ok with it now.
You didn't screw this up for me, if anything, I'm glad you did find this.

I went back and read through your posts, and I think if I hadn't stopped writing for those few months last year, that I might have also realised that it was you.

Don't be sorry about finding this.
 
Thankyou for sticking with me throughout this.
And for telling me the truth.
:)

Meg.

If you asked me what I really wanted.

I want to run down the street screaming, I want to dye my hair rainbow colours and I want to be okay about it, I want to make daisy chains in the grass, I want to take beautiful photos, I want to write something that really matters, I want to be told that i'm beautiful and to believe it, I want my parents to be proud of me, I want my sister to look up to me, I want to care less about what other people think, I want to be less judgemental, I want to be different, I want people to want me to be their friend, I want to be an interesting person, I want want to feel less insecure, I want to be appreciated, I want to be accepted, I want to be on time, I want to be a good person, I want to be easygoing, I want to give good advice, I want to make people happy, I want to make people laugh.


I want to be myself.

Describe yourself in all honesty.

I'm self conscious, awkward, happy, sad, jealous, confused, dreaming, lost, disappointed, quiet, hopeless, guilty, innocent, overlooked, clumsy, funny, worried, lonely, tired, loving, listening, caring, serene, mellow,  uptight, possessive, forgiving, crushed, alone, pensive, cute, misled, crazy, angry, torn, clueless.

I'm not feeling all of these at once.

Hermione: Don't you understand how she must be feeling? Well, obviously she's feeling sad about Cedric, and therefore confused about liking Harry, and guilty about kissing him. Conflicted because Umbridge is threatening to sack her mum from her job at the Ministry, and frightened about failing her O.W.L.s because she's so busy worrying about everything else.

Ron: One person couldn't feel all that, they'd explode!

Hermione: Just because you've got the emotional range of a teaspoon.

These are probably just what I have felt over the last week or so.
But things are changing, getting better.
But i have to put it all on hold for two weeks, until he comes back.

He asked me to please be here when he comes back.
I said I would wait for him.

For my dog, Molly.

She sits
in the corner
head angled
towards the ground
as she tries to sleep.

A noise.
She peers up at the world,
a world that
she can barely hear.

Old.
She looks
sometimes
as if her days
are numbered.

But I can't.
I won't.
Let her go.
Not just yet.
Not ready yet.

Recognition.
Is bliss,
it doesn't happen
often,
but when it does
it sends a flicker
of hope
through my soul.

Please don't leave.
Please don't.
Please.

Now that you're back, I can finally listen to the same songs we used to.

It doesn't hurt any more.
I'm still confused and I'm still hoping, but for now I can almost be content.

Almost.

I don't know what I want, and I don't know what you want.
I'm not even sure if we know or want the same things.

I do know that I don't want a repeat of last time.
Because I don't think I can come back to you again.

Man I miss Blogger

It's been so long since I was on here, and I'm hoping that I will have time to come back often.
I miss reading all \the beautiful writing here, and I miss getting the occasional comment from someone looking at this blog.
I miss being able to write what I want, and what I feel and not having to worry about what my friends think.
I don't seem to have that luxury on Tumblr.

Blogger has changed, but I like it. The people on here aren't superficial like on other sites.

And yes, I've really missed it. :)