Tired

Darkness was home,

But now I am blinded by light.

Holding false smiles,

While happy memories are caught on film. 

We reminisce. 

Thinking of yesteryear, 

When you still clung to the bottle

And I couldn’t work a lighter. 

I stumble in my heels. 

The Euripides of the party, 

I use tequila and cheap perfume, 

To mask my tragedy.

I still notice the sideways glances-

The looks of concern- 

And I laugh them away, 

There’s nothing a pretty smile can’t hide. 

But even the smallest hurdle, 

Can cause the facade to crumble. 

Sometimes the emptiness feels so heavy, 

And God- Daddy, I’m tired.

Fireworks

 “Penny for the guy?”

Echoes from every street corner;

Where kids hope to make enough change

For a dodgy roll up from their brother.

The chill air carries the faint smell

Of stewing meat and molten sugar.

Boys jeer and drink cheap cider,

As the girls giggle around a cone of cold chips.

This years local celebrity plays host

Over the outdated sound system-

The din drowned out by police sirens,

Not on our estate for a change.

When the first rocket soars the atmosphere is changed,

The children stand in awe,

The once beautiful mums cracking a smile

At the cheesy ballad from their prime.

For once the air really is filled with the sound of fireworks,

Even the lads and dads fall silent.

The smoky air not caused from fags

And no lingering funny musk scent left behind.

It’s not necessarily the setting; Hollywood is miles away.

But when you live in a city of sin, you can’t help thinking-

If God created the stars,

This is the closest we will ever get to Heaven.

Say My Name

Say my name.

Let every syllable roll off of your tongue so slowly

That my ears are shocked when they realise,

The word fat did not follow.

Say my name,

So loud, so often that I no longer tense-

Expecting it to be punctuated

By the thud of a fist hitting a wall.

Say my name.

Sing it so melodically that it is impossible

To feel insignificant,

Whenever I hear it spoken again.

Say my name,

close to my face; so close

that my nostrils no longer burn with the scent of whisky,

just by association anymore.

Say my name,

So gently as we lie together,

That my ears no longer strain to find

The tone of manipulation, they are so used to.

Say my name.

Say my name.

Say my name.

Because when you say it,

It’s my favourite sound.

Night Drives

The dashboard illuminates his toothy grin as we drive through the night; the only sound for miles being the tyres of your beat up truck on the gravel road. I’d called you over an hour ago now after hours of tossing and turning in bed, of course as soon as I told you what was going on you came to pick me up for one of our drives. 

I don’t know when this had become a tradition- it seems like I couldn’t remember a time when we didn’t do this. Whether it was because of my racing thoughts or your dad’s drunken anger, whenever one of us needed the other we would take a drive to the lake. It was already 5AM but thanks to the changing seasons, we still had a good couple of hours before the sun would come up and we’d have to return to the real world. 

You killed the ignition as soon as we pulled into the dusty parking lot and without a word we climbed out and started walking to our spot. I hadn’t bothered to change out of my sweats and vest top so the cold wind made goose bumps pinprick my arms. As soon as you saw my shivering body you gave me you’re old denim jacket- the scent of your aftershave engulfing me immediately. 

It didn’t take us long to get to our spot on the shore but the early hour meant that there wasn’t a soul but us in sight. From where we sat we could see the lights of the city twinkling against the red sky and hear the sound of sirens in the distance. It always amazed me how the night could make the hell we call home seem beautiful. 

We sat like that for what felt like hours- I curled up under your arm as you smoked your cigarettes and spoke about nothing in my ear. Your low morning voice had started to lull me to sleep when you pointed out the sun peeking over the horizon. Without a word we got up and made our way back to your car, mourning our little adventure and anticipating the next one. 

Maybe it wasn’t just the night I loved, but the company- either way I was never as happy as I was on those sleepless nights.

Falling for a Devil

He was the type of guy your parents would warn you about; his fiery red hair and the tattoos littering his arms made him look like danger personified.

I was the type of girl mothers dreamed of their sons marrying; my long, brunette hair and collection of simple tea dresses gave an illusion of sweetness.

I had straight A’s and half of his teacher’s couldn’t even match his name and face.

He spent his evenings in bars and pool halls; I spent mine in the library or in my room.

I was tipsy after one wine cooler and he drank Jack Daniel’s like water.

We couldn’t have been more different- which is why everyone was so surprised when he asked me on a date. They nearly had a heart attack when I said yes.

                                                      

We balanced each other out. I kept him grounded and taught him that he didn’t have to break every rule in the book while he taught me that it was okay to let go sometimes and I didn’t have to constantly prove my worth to the world.

He worshiped the ground I walked on and I held him on a pedestal like a god.

And somehow it worked.

He didn’t even acknowledge his friends when they constantly commented on him being whipped and I just ignored my parents whenever they told me how much better I deserved.

Sure sometimes he carried my books and went out of his way to walk me home safely. And maybe he did smoke like a chimney and swear like a sailor. But none of that mattered to us. He would carry my floral folders and pink bag without the bat of an eye and I wore his smoke infused leather jacket like a medal.

I bandaged him up every time he had gotten himself into a drunken fight and he picked me up in the middle of the night when all of my work had overwhelmed me. He didn’t talk about his ‘work’ and I never mentioned my parents. It was just about us in our own little world and that’s the way we liked it.

He once drove for 14 hours straight because I’d confessed that one of my biggest dreams was to meet Princess Belle and I can’t recall the amount of times I ‘borrowed’ my parents car at 2AM to pick him up from some bar.

And of course we had our fights.

Sometimes I would get sick of his attitude, or the drugs or his filthy temper and sometimes he would get hurt when I refused to defend him from my mother or when I bailed on another date to revise. We would scream and curse, he would throw things and punch walls, I would slam doors and pack bags. But we always got through it, the fights were fiery and passionate but would be over as soon as one of us started to cry and after it would be like nothing had ever happened.

People would tell him that I was too boring or innocent and my friends never ceased to try and convince me of how ‘bad’ he was. But nothing ever came of their words. The truth was he loved the little trinkets that littered my room and would choose a hot chocolate of mine with a Disney film over a beer in a seedy bar any day.  And if I was being perfectly honest, his tattoos and all black clothes were what ignited my interest in him in the first place and I loved all of the late night motorbike rides through the city.

 Some saw his appearance or his switchblade attitude and all the trouble he got himself into and assumed he must be a bad boyfriend and too much work for what he’s worth.  But honestly he could be Satan himself and as long as he loved me the way he loved hell, I couldn’t care less what other people think of us.  

I am a mess

I am a mess.

I start notebooks and never finish them; I chew my pens to death. I will paint my nails and I will have chipped off half the varnish in no more than two hours. I refuse to pair my socks and I can’t remember the last time I brushed my hair. I think a coffee with two sweeteners is an acceptable meal and the smell of cigarettes reminds me of home. My room is rarely clean and I never do my own laundry.

I have a switch blade attitude and a glare that could freeze over hell. I break the spines of books and cut up magazines. My notes are always covered in doodles and illegible, my homework is rarely done on time and I can’t remember the last time I was in a good mood for a whole day of college. My lipstick is always a mess and my feet are constantly aching from the heels I wear and I always complain. I am unintentional flirt who is incapable of recognising when someone is flirting back.

I am unnecessarily stubborn and refuse help even when I need it. I am never on time and I have turned making up excuses into an art form. I am pathologically sarcastic and I have a savage sense of humour. My mouth has no filter and I make promises I never keep. I hoard pointless things and I live on a tangent. I procrastinate for weeks on end and then get ridiculously stressed out.

Money is no object until I have none left and I spend too much time shopping online instead of studying. I have no concept of how to react to other people’s emotions and I am sometimes too blunt for my own good. I crave love but I am terrified of commitment. My first reaction to bad things happening is to hide from them and I put too much love into drinking. I over think everything and I am indecisive. My mind is constantly going at a million miles an hour even though it seems like I'm going nowhere. I have a lot of walls up that prevent me from being close with people and I am very picky about who I let in or how close they get.

I am always embarrassing myself and making bad choices. When something won’t go my way, I give up and I am irrationally secretive. My self confidence is at rock bottom despite how vain I am and I am easily bought. I am a walking cliché and pretentiously poetic. I know what I want and I will do whatever it takes to get it.

I am ridiculously bitter and pessimistic even though I am always laughing or being loving towards my friends. I put way too much of myself in to pointless things and many of my relationships have been unhealthy at best. I spend too much time caring for others and not enough time looking after myself and I spent a lot of time chasing and loving people who didn't treat me well. It's only recently that I have gained a big group of friends whom I know all care for me and treat me well; but even though these relationships are better for me than previous ones- they still frighten me.

I know I have these flaws, as do the people I surround myself with. These imperfections make me who I am, and they love me for them –or enough to put up with them- just as I love theirs. Some of these things I am working on, I try to improve my habits even if I can’t entirely fix them, but some of these character faults I know aren’t going anywhere soon.

These are the traits that make me who I am, I own them and work with them; I have accepted them for all they are, as have the people who matter most. It’s time to move on and grow with them as best I can.

(Credit for the GIF goes to the creator, I'm sorry I have know source :/ please let me know if it's yours)

Dancing In The Rain

For as long as I could remember I’d had a dream- one day a handsome man (who looked suspiciously like Zac Efron, forgive me I was only 11 when this dream came to be) would take me on fairytale like date that would end with us dancing to the beat of our own hearts in the midst of a summer downpour. After countless marathons of Step Up, Dirty Dancing and, yes, High School Musical- I find myself often wondering when I would get my Hollywood moment with my very own Noah. I would find myself dreaming of the dance daily, wondering when I would find the one and I would get the chance to live a love worthy of a Nicholas Sparks novel. I guess I’ve always wanted a silver screen cliché.

Then you came along and instead of Noah, or any of the other dreamy characters I had fallen in and out of love with over the years, it was you I was dreaming of sharing this moment with. However I held back- not wanting to give it to you to early, afraid of wasting my one chance of a Hollywood romance on a love that wouldn’t last. I needed it all to be perfect- the situation, the timing, the partner. It wasn’t until that date in September, almost a whole year after we were first introduced- that I decided to take the plunge.

It was one of the rare days towards the end of the British summer where in our stubbornness we refuse to acknowledge the grey clouds and partake in some stereotypically summery activity or other. You had demanded to see every corner of my hometown so after a whistle-stop tour of the place I had escaped only a few years ago, I decided to take you to one of the few places that I will admit to missing purely for the view. We bought ice cream and sandwiches and used your jacket to set up an impromptu picnic overlooking the lake. We ate, laughed, kissed and fed the ducks before getting up to walk back towards the car. Until that point we had managed to stay warm and dry but it was halfway through the story of how I pushed my dad into the lake that I felt the first droplet hit my nose. Within seconds the rain was pouring but as I tried to drag you under the trees for shelter you pulled me back, refusing to move from your spot. You pulled me closer, placing your hands on my waist and started to rock us slowly, as the rain soaked our clothes and you hummed our song.   

Admittedly it wasn’t quite like the movies- with the water proof makeup, space heaters and perfect staging to make it seem Oscar worthy, our real life un-choreographed imitation was charmingly messy at best. I was shivering from the cold by the end, with makeup running down my face and you were laughably out of time thanks to your two left feet. But still, in that moment it occurred to me that I had never been so in love before because despite our flaws, I still saw our little story as even more beautiful than the story of Jack and Rose; and I knew we’d get a happier ending.

   

Let's Drink to Us

I never believed in love. I thought  it was something made up for the purpose of writing books and making films that people eventually started putting into everyday life in order to make it a little more bearable. I guess you could say it was just my own stubbornness that wouldn’t let me admit all of this to you sooner- and if you ever show this to anyone I swear I will kill you.

I knew you were the one almost straight away; even though I refused to admit it to myself at the time- I knew that in some way, you were going to be the game-changer. You know what I mean by that don’t you? I always knew that you would be the one to change my perspective of the world. Now I’m not claiming it was love at first sight- it was more like anxiety; I knew you were going to push me out of my safe little bubble that I had been living in, that’s why I avoided you for so long. I spent months after we first met keep you an arm’s length away, I think you may have even thought I disliked you, but really it was just for my own safety. I didn’t want to risk falling and then you not catching me, or changing your mind at the last second- leaving me battered and bruised at the other end. You scared the hell out of me, and I think that’s how I knew you were the one.

But slowly, very slowly- I started to notice things. When I started imaging the adventures I wanted in my future I was no longer on my own on them, it was always you by my side- with that stupid smile on your face and cracking awful jokes that could make even my icy heart melt. All I could see was that smile, or the way you had a single freckle on your left cheek, your permanently mismatched socks and that one curl in your hair that never went the same way as the rest- it was all you.  People would make comments about the two of us and as we hastily stated that we were just friends they would laugh claiming that “just friends don’t look at each other like that”.

I guess you could say it was a battle of wills, the person who admitted their feelings first lost- it’s always been a battle between the two of us and I think that’s why we work. We would both be bored by an ‘ideal’ relationship; and let’s be realistic, there is nothing ideal or traditional about the two of us. It’s the conflict that keeps our fire burning.

I can’t remember who caved first, despite our need for competition we never seem to have a clear winner, but I do remember the moment that we both said the three scariest words known to man. It was on our mini road trip- I had just turned 21 and you had never been to Disney World so we decided to spend a weekend in Vegas before driving down to International Drive for a week of magic. We had managed to reach Disney just in time for the fireworks and as I turned to see your stupid face grinning back at me as you grabbed my hand in yours, the words tumbled out in the most unromantic way imaginable. Wiping the mustard of my lip from the hotdogs we had inhaled you laughed and mumbled “I love you almost as much as I love Disney as well you idiot”. Then you kissed me and even though you tasted like ketchup, which you know I can’t stand. The moment was still annoyingly perfect- it was just like the movies we go to the cinema and watch purely to make jokes about- there was fireworks (literally) and we forgot everything but each other.

You became not only the person who came on every adventure with me, but also the person who I would cuddle and watch Netflix with. No compliment flattered me as much as the way you would look at me did- it was like you thought I was made of magic.

And now here we are, it feels like decades even though it’s only been a couple of years – I just wanted you to have a way of always knowing that I love you with every piece of my fucked up heart. A way of remembering that even though neither of us is perfect, there is nobody else that I could imagine being imperfect with.

 So I guess I will drink to that- to the perfect little mess we make.

(To clarify this is completely creative, my romantic life is still dead in the water, It was simply inspired by a mixture of exhaustion, my overly emotional brain and videos of Disney proposals and wedding speeches. Also the image isn't mine x)

The Now

I am really sorry about my unexplained disappearing act, this post was supposed to have gone up nearly two weeks ago. Just before I went on holiday. However as my holiday neared I started to become extremely overwhelmed; with the anxiety of flying and being in an unknown place, the pressure being put on me as my results near and the constant questions about my plans for the future I found myself so stressed and anxious that I could barely get out of bed. So I decided to disconnect, completely shut myself away from all social media and give myself a break from all of the stress I have been put under and that I have been adding to myself. 

However I am back now, feeling refreshed and in a marginally better or at least different place than I was two weeks ago- and I find it quite ironic that the post I had planned to upload before I went away is in fact very closely linked to this concept of disconnecting. 

Recently a lot of pressure has been put on myself and everyone else around my age to start planning our futures. A Level results day is rapidly approaching and with that comes the time to start applying for university and preparing for our final years of mandatory education.

And with this new need to plan for the future I have found myself dwelling on the past. Every day I find myself considering what my life would be like if I had made a different decision at the crossroads, or if I had missed that bump in the road. I see how fast my life has gone and wonder whether I am happy with how I lived then when I decide on my answer, what I would have done differently, my regrets, my achievements, my happiest and saddest memories and how even the slightest difference could have had such a great impact. It’s thoughts like this that fill my mind at 2 AM, just like they are as I’m writing this- so I apologise for the rambling.

But with this emphasis on my future and my existential thoughts of the past, I somehow have forgotten about ‘The Now’. I am so busy making plans or looking at my regrets that I don’t take the time to appreciate my life in this moment in time. I look at my struggles and wallow in self pity then look at the steep climb that I must take to get to my goals without appreciating the view I have now and the climb it took for me to get here. I am so blessed.

Despite my past I have a beautiful family, who love me endlessly despite my flaws- family who I cannot imagine being without- when a year ago I was convinced that they would be better off without me- who I am now making memories with that I know I will cherish forever. A family who would defend me from the knights of Hell themselves, and win- purely because that is what family does. They accept every part of me and we use each other for strength, whether we admit to it or not. I am surrounded by some truly inspiring and strong people- people who are questionably great role models who I strive to make proud. We mock each other and argue and tease but deep down- there are very few families as close as ours.

 I have friends who see the brightest parts of me and make the dark parts lighter. Who make me smile no matter what I may be going through and who I know will be there for me through everything- friends who seem to only be given to characters in stories and yet somehow I ended up gifted with them in real life. Friends who I have shared some of my happiest and hardest parts of my life with and friends who mean just as much, despite us only being at the start of our journey together.  We are a group of oddly- matched, clashing personalities that constantly bicker and debate and taunt- yet somehow we remain together, bonded by something unspoken and unbreakable. Friends who I know live for the good times and will help me fight through the bad; because that’s just what we do. Friends who I cannot wait to experience life with.

I am privileged and, despite my own problems that are personal to me, I have never struggled. I have never gone hungry, I’ve never been physically abused, I have never been homeless. I live a life that is a gift which I constantly forget to be thankful for and strive to acknowledge more. I don’t want to lose what I have before I notice how much that really is. 

 So I guess this is just a rambley way of me giving praise and thanks to ‘The Now’. I am sorry I forget to appreciate the present while I dream of the future and reminisce of the past. But please know, it’s not because I love it any less- but because I am too busy loving it in its entirety that  I don’t get chance to think about just how happy my ‘Now’ makes me.

Love, 

Georgia xxx

And I thought the best way to end this post was to share some of my favourite ‘Nows’ with you. 

One of the legendary parties

Christmas Shopping in Lone with my Mum and Nana

Thom's 17th Birthday

All Time Low at Wembley Arena

The Tent Party

The Best English Lit Class 

Bread's 18th Birthday

The most candid photo I will ever show to the public

The Eurovision Sweepstake Party 

Another Iconic Party despite the smaller turnout

The only person who I can take good selfies with whilst intoxicated

My pre-17th Meal with my not so baby cousin

My little cousin and baby brother post birthday cake and ice cream

Mrs Nana after too many gin and tonics at my Birthday meal

Celebrating my birthday like it's the 1950's

The better table at my actual birthday meal

The Blog Squad (https://t.co/D1g9u7nVqz , xdumxspiroxsperox.blogspot.co.uk ,
roaritsnat.blogspot.co.uk and  http://www.hipsteeria.blogspot.com/ 
-You should check them all out they're all amazing.)

A surprisingly fun UCAS event

Garden Party in the rain

The Lit Trip to London

My eyebrow and blog mentor (RoarItsNat- she's one of my favourite bloggers ever)

My Lit Partner and favourite YouTube Personality
 (ImMatture- seriously he's hilarious)

Skipping a class to take photos with bad MacBook filters

Pretending to be frat guys

Yet another Garden party 

Drunk Pouting

Road Trip dates 

The first night of our cruise

Partial-Squad trip to Hanley 

"Where are you Christmas"

London

It’s the noise, the speed, the attitude. It’s every tiny detail that makes London the best place to get lost and find yourself.

 It’s so big that it will swallow you up and spit you out as a whole new person- it will leave you as a person you didn’t even know you needed when you arrived. You become a happy, confident and collected person just by being there, just like the person who helped you escape whatever it was that made you need to escape to the city in the first place.

It’s dangerous and dirty but that is just another layer to it’s appeal. You have to fight and work your way into the London lifestyle until you have earned your place and can wear it like a badge of honour.

It’s the security of being surrounded by hundreds of people at a time and still being unseen and unembarrassed.

It’s the racing of your heart as you board the Underground, the tension slipping away as you immerse yourself in Bankside and the breathless feelings after dashing through Oxford Street.

All of this is what built my love for London. With every visit I find myself falling deeper into the romance of a lifetime. It is where I belong, the place I was born to be a part of but denied by fate and circumstance. It’s everything I could ever want and more- just beyond my fingertips.    

But not for much longer; so London, my darling London- I shall return to you soon. 

(This was inspired by a trip to London I went on recently to see Measure for Measure at the Globe with some of my dearest friends; Nat, Hannah, Hope and a few other English Literature students- including Natalie and Hope whose amazing blogs I will link at the end- so I thought it fitting to include some of the photos I took. ) 

Hope's Blog- xdumxspiroxsperox.blogspot.co.uk/

Nat's Blog- roaritsnat.blogspot.com