Strangers.

We all start as strangers, so how do we choose which ones we want to turn into friends? Or even acquaintances?

Ive been thinking of this a lot lately, as often in my life I notice somone, who starts as a stranger, but I want to make them a friend, or at least try. But me in my awkward approach, this seems to be impossible. For example, there is currently in my life a guy, a guy who I have notices since September 2013, who seems lovely. A part of me inside is dying because I just want to talk to him, see if he actually IS nice. But how? How does this stranger-friendship concept happen.
Now I know there is a 100% chance he doesnt want anything to do with me, but how would he know if he didnt even try either? Or maybe hes sat thinking the exact same as me... wondering how.

Now ive met a complete stranger before, talked to them online for a few months, then met and had a lovely day together. So this kept me thinking how is this guy different? Well maybe because I see him around a lot, we go to the same educational building, and the feeling of rejection or the other person being horrible could lead to things becoming awkward and unpleseant.

But I cant help that whenever I see said strangers face, I smile and get incredibly nervous, and when I dont see his face, I wish I could.

I wish this stranger to friend idea was so much easier, that being said im the one sat here blogging about it and not actually thinking of a fool proof plan to pull an Augustus Waters and bump into him somehow.

-lesigh.

Work

We probably spend around 90% of our lives working, working so we can earn money to do the things we love. But if we're working so much when do we get to enjoy those little things?

I appreciate my days off so much more now, than I did before. For example, I have worked 4 days this week, given myself friday off, and back to work saturday. So how am I going to spend my glorified Friday? Get a tattoo, and get drunk. I think this is an acceptable way. But the problem is, I spend all my days working, to find at the end of the month all my pay gone. Where does it go? Where did all my hard work go? So im stuck in this cycle. Work. Get paid. Money gone. Work. Get paid. Money gone.

Now its not that I dislike working, I love the feeling of clocking out, or when youre on a shift some pretty amazing people, or when you're in a good mood and your shift just flies by. But money is such a funny thing. We never have enough, we constantly spend it, and we always want more. We were put on this world, forced to work, and learn how meaningless money is. Yet everything that we love in life will require money.

So what about those that dont work. How do you spend your weekends? Where does your unlimited amount of money come from? Are you the people im serving during my weekend? This has always been one of my lifes biggest puzzles, and yet some of the people that dont work are just so content with it. Never wanting a job. Never wanting that satisfying feeling when you’ve hanged a section perfectly, that an hour ago looked like a tornado had hit.
But maybe their okay with that, and I cant tell them their wrong, but I can say from observation some people run at the first sight of hard work. And to those people I feel sorry for you. Because one day you're going to be thrown into a ocean, as a little fish, while all us sharks are swimming round, and you're going to have a shock.

Will you ever forgive me?

Im sorry blog, i truly am, how i have been neglecting you. But you are not alone, i dont seem to write in my diary anymore either.
So i know you my be wondering 'well what the fuck have you been doing then?'
Reading.
Drinking.
Sleeping.
Repeat.

But i had to return to wish you a happy birthday, my blog one year old. I am sorry for abandoning you and i cant promise that i will return to the old writting days, but i hope in time that you will forgive me. Because i can honestly say i miss you. I miss this. I miss writing, and i realised this when i made a blog purley for book reviews. Promise im not cheating on you old friend, oh how ever could i do that? I couldnt.
Ive just found a love for books, one that i never knew i had but when my friends decided they didnt like me anymore, vodka and books became my best friends. And honestly? I dont think id have it any other way.

My love for music is still going strong, infact i think i have slight post gig depression despite there only being a month apart between my last and next. I feel more lonely than ever and my sadness is worse. Infact i went to a doctor after recent thoughts and almost not making it to 2014. Where i got refereed to a place, but i burnt the letter they sent me because i physically couldn't call them. Im a coward.


I have a visa meaning i can leave the country which is good news, never knew how hard it was though to sort out, like i actually had to make a phone call. -gasps- who does that?!

And i spend all weekend working, and i wouldnt have it any other way.

So in a way i started this blog to try to be different, not boring, now im wondering, did it work? My weeks are average, i rarely do anything different, i have no friends and my weekends are spent working.


Did we fail blog? I hope not, because we're not over yet.


Promise.

Talents.

"The most important thing to remember is that content is king and audio is queen. Video is just the messenger of the two."

This is supposed to be the start to my personal statement towards my university application. Towards a university application that I won’t be using for another two years or so. Towards a university which I haven’t even decided on yet. Towards a life I haven’t even thought about yet.
I’ve set myself into this media career that because I chose the area I’d like to work apparently people think I should know the specific job I want to commit my life to. They forget I’m still making a stupid mess of my life and what happens if in two years I don’t want to do media anymore? I’m possibly screwed. Not because that’s what I will have spent the whole of college doing but because I’m not good at anything else.

I wouldn’t class media a talent, anyone can pick up a camera, be creative, learn to edit, and although it seems hard once you learn it, it’s pretty simple. Some bits anyway. I’m not that good at it all. But then there’s those people who get caught up for hours drawing, painting, singing, playing an instrument, dancing. I wish I could waste hours doing any of those talents too. But I never did as a child or now. So I feel pretty talentless.

This makes it even harder when I have to write about myself, why do we all find it so hard? Because we’re not used to saying nice things about ourselves or we don’t see what we do a talent or useful?
Ive been coming across this a lot lately, finding myself not useful. Like I have no purpose. I just wish I could waste my hours drawing whatever my brain creates. Or getting wrapped up in a different world when I learn my favourite song on drums. But inside I find myself admiring others work, spending hours reading others masses of words about story’s that don’t exist. Lying on my floor just carefully listening to another’s emotions in a song.
I live for other people’s talent.

I don’t know if I skipped the part of life where everyone got given a talent or what happened but I can’t seem to find mine yet.
Maybe I never will and ill become content with this person admiring others work and feeling a little jealous that I couldn’t do anything like that.

Lets share secrets.

Exactly a year ago I left high school, let me tell you a secret. Exactly a year ago I wanted to die. I’ve actually never told anyone that before.
I hated high school because I also hated myself, I look back on these pictures and I don’t even recognise myself. It’s sad, knowing how lost I was. I read an old entry from my diary saying how id forgotten what it was like to be truly happy, a part of me wants to go back and give that version of me a hug.
Up until a few months ago I never really liked myself, Its crazy to think that as I look back on pictures from January and I don’t even recognise the girl ‘smiling’ in them.

But currently I’ve been doing things I love, with people I love. I am very content, I don’t have a reason to be sad, yet I find myself breaking down in public. Fighting back tears and sitting in silence while I watch everyone laughing and creating inside jokes.
I don’t even know what’s wrong with me, I’m a mess.
I was sat in my class the other day as we were on a break and everyone left the room but me and I burst into tears, no explanation, I was just sat there. Then I wanted to cry more because I didn’t know why I just did that but I had to fight the urge and just sit there.
It is the worst thing ever, one minute I’m happy, the next I want to crawl into a corner and cry till I’m okay.

Sometimes all I want is for someone just to hold me tight and tell me that everything’s going to be okay.
That sounded like a song lyric haha, dropping out of college and becoming a songwriter. Boom. Sorted.

This blog is like my secrets page, I never really feel like I’m able to tell anyone this shit because it’s not something you just slip into conversation, and nobody cares, but on here it’s like fuck you I’ll write what I want. If you choose to read it then thanks?

I know I won’t get as bad I was last year, but I get scared that I might. I have bad days, weeks, months. It’s like a cycle I never know when it’s going to happen then boom they creep up on you and you find yourself becoming a mess, ignoring the real world, hiding. It’ll pass soon, when this one does I’ll be so fucking happy. 

Reality scares me.

If you say you don’t judge people I’m calling you a liar. Everyone judges everyone, we all know its wrong yet we do it anyway. It’s in our nature. Sometimes those judgments are correct, but they can also be wrong.

Someone, who 9 months ago if you’d have told me that id actually have a full conversation, get along with, actually like this person I would have laughed, told me something the other day which explained why they view a certain situation the way they do. It made me stop and think for a minute that even when we think we know people, we really don’t. Someone could tell you all their secrets but you still could not truly know them or why they act a certain way. It’s sad, but its reality.

I guess reality scares me a little because behind every person no matter how strong they may seem is someone or something tearing them apart and we never realise it.

I’ve been having quite a bad day today and not the ‘bad day’ where  everything goes wrong, but the ‘bad day’ you get when you fight so hard to be happy and some days no matter how hard you fight you will find yourself sat in your room crying. So I can’t stop thinking about the theory of how we never really know people. I also can’t stop thinking about how badly I wish I could have someone I could spontaneously message saying ‘Can I see you?’ then go crawl into their bed and just sulk and they wont question it, they’ll let me do it and surprisingly that would help me escape reality. I’ve only ever done the spontaneous ‘can I see you then crawl in your bed and sulk in silence but you won’t question it you’ll just let me do it’ once before and it was the nicest thing ever. Right now I need it. I need you. I needed you. You walked away. Like everyone else.

Everything that you’ve just read is what’s been on my mind for the past 24 hours. I can’t get it out, and I want it go away, I want to be okay. I was so happy the other day and now I don’t even want to speak to anyone.

Anyone got a bed I can crawl into while they let me sulk and not question it? Let me know thanks. 

Define happiness.

How do you define happiness?

If someone could tell me that’d be great because I hate the question ‘You happy today?’ Especially when no, I’m not ‘happy’ but I’m happier than I was yesterday.
I like to think of myself as content. I like who I am, I like what I’m doing, I like who I’m talking to. But I wouldn’t go as far as to say I’m happy. Because once this bubble of contentness pops and the shit that’s outside it is let back in, I’d be lying if I said I was happy.

However I am far from sad. I haven’t been sad in a while, okay I might get in a bad mood sometimes and just want to hide away and cry to myself, but I wouldn’t go as far to say I’m sad. I’m just having a bad day, and tomorrow I’ll be fine.

So why is it that if we don’t have a massive smile on our faces, we’re not bouncing around the room talking to everyone, we’re not laughing constantly, it’s not okay. Because it is, no one can expected to be happy 100% of the time. Hell it’s not normal. I just wish that when we do have those off days people don’t question every little thing. Like it’s unnatural for me of all people to be in a bad mood. I’m only human, everyone has emotions, let me be angry for one day of the 365. Ill fake a smile for you the other 364. Just let me have today.

Right now I am content. In fact right now I feel like a writer or some shit because I’m lying front down on the floor like you see in movie scenes. Makes me think back to my 8 year old self whose dream was to become a writer. Then the world happened and the writer dream disappeared. Guess I’ll make movies instead ;)

I just want you to know, it’s okay to be sad, it’s okay to be angry. Even if people don’t understand, it is okay. No one can expect you to be perfect.

<3.