Positive times.

The last few days have been chaotic, baffling, upsetting, among many other things. I've realised that certain people are important and the ones that are will never hurt you or take you for granted. That when it matters, even the people who you thought might fail you are the ones who are more than happy to run to your aid and pick up the pieces. The ones who are there for a sounding board, a hug or just the one paying for the tequila when you need it. We aren't defined by the good times, but by the bad times. How we react when we're under pressure. When we are tested, pushed to our limits. So now, I'm happier. I feel like I'm surrounded by people who make me a better version of myself, and they are people who love me and want me in their lives as much as I want and need them in mine. After losing myself a bit in the midst of screaming and acting all hysterical during a meltdown, I am picking up the pieces. I miserably failed NaNoWriMo. I have probably failed the two uni assignments I've just handed in, and I'm behind on my reading. I've been moody and questioned every decision I've ever made because of one too many bad choices. I'm not sure what I'm doing with my degree or what I want out of life now. Coffee, happy people and repeats of HIGNFY (Have I Got News For You?) are keeping me up to date with what I need to know. Maybe journalism could twist my arm, and take advantage of my over-opinionated little self? Who knows. I'm moving on to better things. No one can make me feel low unless I allow them to, and I shouldn't. I know my worth even if they don't. So I'm sticking two fingers up to anyone who feels the need to attempt to make me unhappy. Good look trying. 

Walk away.

Who knew. I have the strength to walk away, even when everything is weighing me down. Even if I've invested so much, I can't stick around to know I'll get hurt. I've surprised myself. Angry, exhausted, totally emotionally and physically drained, my bed is calling. Maybe we have to experience the bad times so that we appreciate the good times even more. All I know is, I'm done with you. You had your chance, hell, you had more than enough chances, and I don't have the energy to do it any longer. 

Stop crying your heart out.

To say last night was horrific would be an understatement. "Shit" someone muttered. Awful. I'm lost for words. I feel like the biggest mug on the planet. It's so humiliating, being so positive and gushing about someone for them to throw it back in your face, and make you look stupid and naive and totally gullible. Evidently I am all of those things. Just when you think life is going to deal you a good hand at last, a lucky hand, someone comes along and grabs it and snatches it away. Last night was spent in tears, so, yeah, not a great start. I could probably punch a wall I'm so angry today. Seems like my judgement is as bad as people say. Yet I seem to be the only one who can't see it. So even after all of this upset, why am I sitting here trying to smile? Why am I here knowing that I'm not prepared to walk away from something I care about, even though the risk of being hurt is higher than ever. Maybe this is it though. It doesn't get worse. I was brought up to fight for what you wanted, and work at it, and don't give up at the first sign of trouble. Maybe that's overly optimistic in this scenario, I really don't know. I have so much to get through today and you've messed my head up so much I could just scream. I hope you're happy. Better yet, I hope you're fucking miserable. 

Rain on my parade.

I'm smiling. Genuinely. One of those ear-to-ear, painful, grinning kinda smiles. One you can't suppress, no matter how hard you try. One that makes your eyes all squinty and your cheekbones ache. I feel like there's been a massive weight lifted off my shoulders recently. A certain someone is responsible for this. And I can say, proudly, and slightly smugly, that despite what everyone says, I'm a pretty good judge of character. Maybe I should be giving some of those critics two fingers but I wouldn't. They're like that for a reason, which I appreciate to a point. So, certain things do pay off. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. If you want something enough, go and get it. It works. Oh, did I mention I'm happy? Nobody can rain on my parade right now.

Step off.

Who is the person who texts you back at 4am when you're getting drunk and teary-eyed? Who can take stick from everyone else and yet have your back anyway? Who's the one who can make you smile at the drop of a hat? Who will do anything humanly possible to make you happy? The one who isn't afraid to hold your hand in public or to be seen with you. The one, who, despite all the negative critique, is determined to set the record straight. The one who knows your flaws and failings and insecurities and still won't let you walk away. This person, at the minute in my life, is making me rather happy.

I've taken a risk.  A big risk, for many reasons. A possibly, in fact, probably life-changing risk. Some people will say it's "selfish" and "inconsiderate" while others will say I'm "stupid" and "naive" but I don't care, to hell with them. It doesn't affect them as much as it affects me, and for god sakes, it's about time I did something for myself for a change. It's not like taking other people's advice has ever gotten me anywhere in the past. Frankly, quite the opposite. Approval, I honestly couldn't give a fuck about any longer. My life is, obviously mine. Keep your negative thoughts firmly in your mouth because I have enough in my own head thanks. Doubts and worries are all that ever encompass my little self, but I know that there's nothing better than taking a risk and watching it pay off, big-time. I recently told someone that my biggest fear was heights, because, note this: "I'm scared of falling." Yeah. It was like having an epiphany or something. Of course I'm afraid of falling. But that same someone responded with something quite clever, that got me thinking: "but eveything has a risk, if you're afraid of falling you'll never risk anything." And that's when it hit me. Maybe stepping over the cliff edge scares the hell out of me, but if I never do, I'll never know what is over that cliff edge. Life starts at the end of your comfort zone, I'm told. In which case, my life starts now. My nervous, little self, with bitten-down nails, and a cold, shaky exterior, is ready to jump. There is no guaranteed safety net, but then again, if it's worth the risk, it doesn't really matter. I point-blank refuse to live on the sidelines watching someone else experience the life I'm supposed to live. Trust me, step off the edge, there's nothing like it. It's scary as hell and a little unnerving and my stomach wants to crumble my organs right now, but also, it's kind of great. Euphoric. 

Remember remember the 5th of November.

It's that time of year again. The nights are drawing in slowly, you can see your breath in the air and everyone knows someone who can tell you how many days, hours, minutes, seconds and breaths it is until Christmas. It's no secret, I kind of hate this time of year. Minus Christmas, obviously. But the cold, dark nights, the need to wear four layers to leave the house or risk a limb falling off in the northern arctic conditions. So, tonight is the anniversary of the day the infamous Guy Fawkes plotted to blow up the Houses of Parliament in a scheme we know now as The gunpowder plot. He's didnt succeed and somehow we're supposed to celebrate that by setting off tonnes of fireworks eccellerating into the sky and throwing 'guy' dummies onto raging bonfires. Isn't tradition funny? 

Well, today looks miserable through my eyes. Dull rainy day, puddles ruining my beloved Uggs and my already questionable morning hair. I've been up at six and already am commuting to uni for a 9am poetry lecture. Frankly I'd rather stick pins firmly into my eyes than attend. I'm counting down the hours until the clock strikes half 12 and I get to jump back on a bus, and crawl lazily back into the snugness of my bed. Wishful thinking ey? Oh, and someone's paper in front of me tells me today also, for some, is a particularly exciting day. Let's hope there's no one stabbed today in exchange for the last copy of Call of Duty: ghosts, like the last major xbox game release. Madness. Well, I hope you all have a good bonfire night, whatever you happen to be doing; whether it be celebrating it in a traditional way, ignoring it completely, or doing something a bit more to your taste. As of now, 07:56am, I have no plans, but I'm not too fussed about that. Can always take advantage of a neighbour spending about eighty quid on rockets and Catherine wheels from an upstairs window. Hibernation might start soon. Unless someone can give me a really good reason to get out of bed on a morning. 

Happy failings.

I'm currently sitting, very stressy, yet quite happy, at my desk. My overflowing bookshelf, containing some of the literary loves of my life, acts as a welcome distraction to any negative thoughts. My eyes keep getting drawn to certain spines, like John Green's Looking For Alaska, Melvin Burgess' Junk, Kevin Brooks' Candy and the like. There's also, unfortunately, one or two more 'literary' works lurking in the shadowy corners, a little bit less welcome than some of my favourites. Anyway, like I said, I'm getting distracted again. Fireworks are going off almost consistently outside my window, yet another distraction. Things have been somewhat hectic lately. Everything seems to be getting quite on top of me. Imagine a little me, buried under a mountain of essays and assignments, deadlines, and coursebooks. Oh, and in my pre-moment of madness, my commitment to NaNoWriMo. I have to add, it's four days in and I've never met the advised 1,666 words a day deadline yet. Oops. I'm feeling a bit guilty about that. However, I'm determined. Yes, kind of got my act together. After every weekend, constantly drinking, laughing and pursuing an overly-active social life, I've suddenly realised that I should probably do some work right about now. (I just realised that my exam is in 38 days!) Panic stricken little moi can no longer bury her head in the sand, or a quilt, although the latter, is, of course, very very tempting.

So, what's my latest distraction? Well, okay, not what..Who. I've had so many things that have deterred me from doing work lately, mainly, the people in my life. In no way are they bad influences, (cue the laughter, that of course is me!) but I'm just way too happy to spend time with everyone lately. I'm feeling social, you could say. Therefore, despite my back-breaking amount of work creeping up on me, and stressing me out so much I just find myself almost reduced to stress-tears, I'm happy. I might be close to failing assignments, AND NaNoWriMo may go completely out of the window if I'm not careful, (and far more constructive) but it's all for a good-ish cause. I'm getting a grip, but also, I'm finding myself to be happier than ever right now. A huge grin on my face, that fuzzy feeling you can't shift, well, failure may be bitter, but it's looking sweetly bitter from where I'm sitting.

Is that an optimistic viewpoint? Scary. I think someone's drugging me with happy things.