Thursday, 20 May 2010


Abraham Lincoln once said, 'It's not the years in your life that count, it's the life in your years.'

This year, I will have been alive for 20 years, and for the first 18, I feel like I lived 2 years for each birthday. For 18 years I lived with passion, making choices seemed simple, even when I had to choose between the trip of a lifetime and a dance show, I always knew the path I was walking, and I was happy to be on it.

For 15 of those years, my feet danced along the way, while I never felt truly appreciated or values, the movement sustained me, I thrived on pushing myself to do what so few do, to be the best of myself. When I danced, whether in front of a class, or in front of a thousand people in a West End theatre, I was dancing for myself, hell I was dancing myself.

Until it just stopped. You can replace someone's heart with a donated organ, but it'll never be their own again. I feel like I sealed up a little piece of myself in a glass ball, along with all the happiness and release I associated with it, and stored it where that heart used to be. And all it takes, is some tiny reminder, some tiny bump, and it all begins to escape, and I have to remember what I'm missing.

What I really want is to be able to go back in time, and to have those years again and again. Forever. All the living to fill up the farce that my life seems to have become.

What does this translate to?
A lost, lonely 19 year old, sitting in a half-made bed, and crying to R. Kelly.

This is meant to be reflective, not depressing, and I guess what I'm trying to say is not that I'll never be happy in that way again. It's just that I'm scared, so absolutely terrified that it's gone forever, so while I can tell myself logically that its not, I cant really convince myself its true.

Thursday, 13 May 2010


Do you ever feel like your entire life centres around something you are waiting to happen? Sometimes it's a logical anticipation, some excitement you have been expecting, but right now, for me, it's something different.

I don't know what I'm waiting on. Sure, I have short term goals, I'm nervously anticipating the season finale of my favourite TV show, my exams, and the summer to come. But under all this there's a kind of emptiness.

I'm waiting for something to start me up again. I have no direction, no underlying goal or motive. maybe sometimes the little things are enough, but I dont feel myself, I haven't done since last summer.

I'm hungry for life, real life, to come and take notice of me. While I tell myself that I have to make things happen, I can't if I don't know what I want, and I'm at an age where I can ruin my own life, or make it what I desire, and I feel alone.

Alone with this gnawing ticking clock inside, waiting, begging even, for something to start.