captive waters

sailing

Thu, 17 May 2007 10:31:37 GMT

I lay in bed last night for one hour dreaming that someone has stolen my bag. The night before I dreamt that someone had stolen my car and the night before that I dreamt that someone had stolen my telephone. These are all trivial items, but my biggest nightmare would be something to be stolen which can’t be replaced.

Women try their best to keep their partners. Some women maintain a high maintenance physical appearance to keep them, some women ensure they have a high profile in society, some women run after their men by excelling their ever single demand. But the best kind of woman is comfortable with herself and puts trust and confidence into her man for him to stay faithful. There is no doubt of another woman coming along with something you haven’t got. Something which your man longs to have, but I think I have the trust there to know that my partner will only look and not touch.

Sometimes I wished I spent more time with some people that are not totally out of my life now. I knew some motivating people which now I wished I knew more about but foolishly I let them all deteriorate away to nothing by spending my time wrongly. The stunning writers, the incredible artists, the magnificent speakers with captivating thoughts they could have shared with me. I know there is no point to regrets but I still do. Its when I spend my whole life waiting for these moments, and I just let them sail past me, missing the opportunity. Then after it destroys me knowing I will never get that chance again.

3 words

Thu, 03 May 2007 12:53:25 GMT

I am going on holiday on the 15^th august till the 22^nd to Rhodes and I am thrilled. The best thing about it is that the person who is adjoining me, I love so very much.

And yes, he finally said those three special words to me.

pause

Mon, 02 Apr 2007 00:21:09 GMT

I keep meaning to show Iain this journal, but it never happens. Then afterwards I’ll think I’m glad I haven’t shown him it. But there’s something else telling me, he should really know all these things. But then there’s something else telling me, some things are better left unsaid and not discussed.

I have therefore decided to leave it to fate to whether he shall stumble across my entries. He knows of the website, I have kind of given him the website address and therefore if he does come to read my blissful and happy entries about my solemn life, then so be it!

Things are scarily okay at the moment, he’s gone to Amsterdam on a drink and cannabis filled weekend. But it’s been nice, of corse I miss him but it was only for a few days and the break was pleasant. It let me take a step back and realise how I feel. I think about him all the time, I wake up often in the middle of the night just thinking, worrying.

I worry too much for my own good. I know that I shouldn’t worry but then my natural instinct makes me worry more as I feel that, seeing as I feel I have nothing to worry about, that I must be missing something. This is what wakes me up in the middle of the night.

I’m happy now, pause the moment forever.

been given 24 hours to tie up loose ends, make amends

Tue, 20 Feb 2007 02:42:05 GMT

I’m such a bad judge of character. I mix with some very heavy faces in this place. I’m starting to learn that it’s good not to get to know people too well, because when you start to really know people you see these major faults that seem to grow, and every time I look at these people, their faults just blare out. It’s quite funny, that once beautiful people, you can’t help notice the ugliness. From a beautiful shiny kind caring person to a dark horse with teeth that could eat an apple through a tennis racquet. In seconds, in split seconds, my opinion of someone can change. What can you do? I guess I have faults too.

I wandered in the living room, telling my mum the whole situation, trying not to sound too immature. She laughed, like she would, “Darling, people are unreliable, they don’t care about you, your just there for fun, haven’t you learnt that?” I felt like such a fool.

Recently I have just felt like some big parasite has been draining every bit of life out of me. That I am fighting to be happy, I need to laugh even when people have my heart between their teeth. I need to find a sense of humour. Stuck in the idea of an easy life, what the fuck was I thinking?

Sunday was a beautiful day. Young, full of energy and freshness having an amazing sex life. What will happen when the sex runs out? I’ll tell you, we just laugh or fall asleep together. It’s most excellent. It was cuddles in the kitchen, he had that look upon his face, through his eyes the world was burning.

And she weeps on my arm
Walking to the bright lights in sorrow
Oh drink a bit of wine we both might go tomorrow,oh my love
And the rain is falling and I believe
My time has come
It reminds me of the pain I might leave
Leave behind

Wait in the fire...

dishonest men warning

Mon, 22 Jan 2007 00:23:16 GMT

Competitions are always the same, there will be winners and there will be losers. Competitions always involve compassionate relationships. This time it was just a friendly rivalry and nobody got hurt. Well, no one that I am too concerned about.

This weekend, a fine shopping trip and untamed sex in the car made my relationship set in stone. I felt a million dollars with him and haven’t been so proud of my achievement of “bagging a bloke,” in ages. It might have taken me a while, but I managed to get what I wanted, despite the people that got in the way.

Unlike the other girls, I perfected the timing of getting together with him, doing it with a bit taste and consideration. I had to ensure no old flames were still simmering and obviously work around those two ex boyfriends to ensure I could hurt them as much as possible but ensuring there were no arguments.

I also squeezed in a bit of advice, if I found out any hidden secrets, which in time, inevitably I would, then I would take action to protect myself. I made sure that he knew, that if he decided to be dishonest and cheat, then the most danger he will pose, is himself.

I think I covered everything this weekend. I really like him though; hopefully I can make this work.

I guess in this competition, I am the winner because the people that win the people they want are always the ones that wanted them more.

happening

Tue, 12 Dec 2006 01:34:41 GMT

It’s actually happening. Sort of.

It’s been a surreptitious all of these years, and it finally all came together. What would my fortune be that he liked me as well? Like finding the missing piece of the puzzle under the sofa covered in dust. It all fits together, flawlessly.

He moved my hair out of my face, making the end of his nose touch mine. It was so classic and clichéd. Typical romance, looking into eyes and holding close. All of the things that have been done to death were made fresh and original. I woke up time and time again that night. I couldn’t stop help reminding myself who I was laid next too and the blueness of the room.

I was so glad the car keys were missing, although I was desperate to wash my hair. It could wait, even though I felt, he wanted me to go, but it was afternoon.

I can’t figure you out. Your opinion and mood fluctuates so much. It’s as though your caring attitude can be turned on and off so quickly, like a light switch, just an effortless push? Is it you keep changing your mind?

I don’t blame you.

Mon, 20 Nov 2006 14:56:35 GMT

I was checking my phone literally every 2 minutes precisely, just in case he text me. He always manages to text me at obscure times, when I have got exhausted from waiting and decided it was time to go on my travels home. For instance, 3.15am, “wish you came back to mine xx”

I decided like every other male in my life, he must just want a fuck. but there is something about him that makes me desire more. Is it the true fact that I know there are so many barriers stopping me getting to him? Or is it that I truly adore him. Its true, you want what you cant have. That’s what makes that thunderbolt.

The pub was bouncing, the conversation of drinkers echoed in my ears, gazing at the old fashioned furnishings, looking at the grimy pint glass, trying to see my reflection in it. Smelling the dampness of the old building mixed with spilt old alcohol. I am so unhappy. I am so displeased with this life. I tried envisioning those minutes when he was mine. How do you prepare for these feelings, when you know that you’re letting go more and more each day?

I wish I could forgive jerry. I keep telling myself over and over again that I should forget about what he did. That he has changed. That he has learnt from his mistakes, but evidently that isnt the case. He is a broken man, is that what I wanted? I couldn’t look into his eyes on Saturday night, I couldn’t face another lie.

The hum of mirth rang in my ears repeatedly and reminded me of how alone I am. How only I feel. How pathetic I looked. How limp I feel. But at least I have home sweet home. Family life hasn’t been better for a long time. My uncle’s death has really brought us together, although it is so sad. Saying those famous words did help the family apart from me. I cracked up on Friday. I held my head in my hands, wishing I wasn’t here.

He is always on my mind. Even when I didn’t hear from him for a couple of weeks. He was still there in the back of my mind; I always wondered what he was up to. Whether he liked me to?

I will never forget the times when we steeped aside those rules; the fear we defied, the thrill of the journey, the blaze that burned, the innocence we lost, the hurt in the end, I’d go there again, because it was beautiful, it was beautiful.

i am not there, i did not die

Thu, 09 Nov 2006 23:52:59 GMT

It’s been an emotional rollercoaster these past few days. I just feel so misplaced, I don’t know whether I should be smiling or crying. Problem is I’m finding it hard to do either at the moment. I am just motionless. I feel exasperated, knowing that there are so many sad things to be crying about and so many happy things to be laughing about. I just feel like I am never able to find the convenient time to do either. So I stand unaffected and passive until I am sure I won’t offend anyone by showing the glints of a smile or a glitter of a tear.

What is the right emotion to feel when you loose someone close?

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die. (Anonymous)

This poem was wooden framed on my yellow and blue bedroom wall when I lived in London. My mother told me to read it every time I missed someone as it helped ease the pain. She often used to try and explain her view of the perception of life.

So how am I supposed to feel right now? Should I sit and pretend to weep, or shall I smile and tell everyone those famous words, “It will be alright.”

casanova

Fri, 03 Nov 2006 01:28:58 GMT

I forgot how to laugh until today. It has been so long since I’ve laughed till my eyes have watered and there’s that ache in your stomach. It was when my friend fell of the bus this morning. I feel guilty laughing at his misfortune.

Tuesday night was Halloween, not a one to disregard.

I met up with Luke and his friends after work. He was gracious at first, buying me my favourite drink, leading me to a seat next to his. We always look good together, even though everyone thinks we are brother and sister. I think we look visually pleasing together, fair haired and bluey eyed, perhaps a touch of Swedish.

I like the pub we visited, although blue and yellow paint glared painfully, the ladylike pint of beer I had, seemed to dull it a bit. It was quite relaxing, sitting back and watching people having fun in their Halloween costumes, but still, I couldn’t stay silent for too long, we wouldn’t want any of those awkward silences, would we?

I was thoroughly enjoying myself, being nice to his friends, smiling and I even tried to be myself. It was so fresh, like the smell of a new car; I couldn’t get enough of it.

We wandered to the night club independent, the band satisfying my ears, the dark gloomy corners where a dressed up witch and skeleton would be holding hands, giving each other the occasional peck on the cheek. Luke wandered away, he seems so popular like he knows everyone, but I just wandered away myself, I would hate to appear a cling on.

Shame he let me sit on my own for too long. I started getting slightly annoyed when I was left for thirty five minutes with the likes of people where there, who were old flames. It wasn’t too bad, the old flames had been put out and the ashes swept away a long time ago, but I think it annoys the old flame because I don’t hate him. I think it annoys him because I don’t care. He kept on doing annoying acts, to get me frustrated, or to get give him a horrible look. I would have hated to give the satisfaction, so I would just smile agonizingly.

Its funny how those substances can alter ones personality in just ten seconds. He couldn’t have grabbed me any tighter but I still felt like I was drifting away, like when a child lets go of a helium balloon, itinerant off in any direction. I rescued him from the bouncers at the door who kindly advised me to get him away, otherwise they’ll destroy him. I grabbed his arm and dragged him off. He wasn’t him, I dragged away a stranger with the same face, but even his smile was different. Such a shame he feels the need, he’s such a beautiful person.

Tonight was better.

I didn’t stay at his house for too long. I collected my mobile which I did accidentally leave on his bed. He made me tea and we talked. He asked me if I understood why he wasn’t leaving his house. I just smiled and friendly tapped his hand. I hope he understood I did understand. We knew we could only be friends, that sparkle wasn't there.

I loved the walk back to the bus stop, kicking the autumn leaves, talking to myself. Sometimes I don’t like being alone, and the comfort of my own voice soothes and reassures myself. Watching the people walk past me and shudder with the blast of cold that has arrived this evening.

Who are you? I can’t find a name to ensemble you. I found names for everyone else. But not for you. You’re the boy that looks like Casanova: A heart for every beautiful woman but translucent eyes like the sea in Malta. I have never met anyone like you before.

Sun, 29 Oct 2006 17:22:24 GMT

I was about to let go, until he rang me at late hours last night. I thought he was too busy for me. I remembered his sweet aroma, which has been locked in my sense of smell for days now.

I thought about him while I was pushing past those people in a bar. A night talking to people I didn’t want to. I got sick of saying excuse me, while I was pretending to go somewhere, when really I trying to get away. I longed to see a new beautiful face. So I drank from the bottle, sat next to strangers. Why won’t it last? Why can’t he last? I think I should give up trying to figure things out. Just let it happen but I don’t know what I want to happen. What are my hopes and dreams?

I remembered all those nice gestures he made, like holding onto me, like I was sand slipping through his fingers. And when I ask him if he likes me, he starts talking about how special he is. I think he knows he is good at deflecting questions.

I loved standing with my arms stretched out, last night, letting the wind blow through my hair, feigning crazy when the sky broke. I separated notions with a shady smile, watching the winds blow fiercely, making my eyes water once again. When will this end? So I ran all the way home, not looking back once. I just wanted to run to him, 300 miles away, why didn’t he take me with him? Jumping in too deep. I just want someone to care about me, to count the tears that fall from my cheek.

And if he stops by, I hope for day light, so I can take a good look at him.

arrogance

Tue, 24 Oct 2006 15:13:05 GMT

Grace and I sat in one of his many living rooms on Sunday evening. He sat almost crossed-legged sipping white wine, while I tried to rub ash of my cigarette, which had accidentally, fell onto his sofa.

We all watched a film, and i did everything apart from watch it. i stared at the framed family pictures, i was so obsessed with thinking how special he was, in the process i forgot i was special too.

I have done it again, hurt myself again today, and the worst part is that I have no one else to blame.

fend for myself

Thu, 19 Oct 2006 20:54:05 GMT

So tomorrow I have plans. I’m feeling quite vulnerable, my two best friends have gone to the USA for ten days and now I’m left, for probably the first true time on my own. This means I have to fend for myself.

I managed to be wined and dined tomorrow night. I’m quite worried. He gave me a score out of ten. He said near enough ten. I wonder what I fell down on. Obviously doesn’t know me properly. I hope he likes pink wine. I’ll make sure to wear a smile with my ruby lips.

It’s been a nothing day. Just a week of rational thinking. I said good-bye to a lot of people that I have loved recently. I have to move on, things were getting complicated. Far away, someone will be waiting for me to turn the corner and like me for who I actually am. Things fall apart, I don’t know why I bother. I thought I had it all, but recently it all started to fall. It was when I looked into Jerry’s eyes, and told him I saw nothing at all.

I don’t know what to do this weekend? Maybe catch up with those friends that have been there in that past but for some reason can never find the time so go visit.

So tomorrow night, I will make myself feel like a princess, put on my mask, my suit. I’ll just smile, be myself, why do I always feel the need to impress? I’m on the road to breaking down. I feel like nothing because I feel nothing. Worries rolling away, but I roll away with them. Nothing sparkly and cute has made me want to glow recently.

I just want to be with you. But I can’t define who “you” is.

Who would want me though? I can’t save myself alone, time costs so much. It’s terrible to think, I’m dying right now, wasting my time being miserable, leading a normal depressing life. Every weekend knowing that I got work on Monday, knowing the weathers always going to be grey and boring. I see hope is here. Just two years, then hopefully I’ll have someone’s hand to hold.

Got to find him.

My insides are gripped wondering what will happen tomorrow night. Will I want him?
I just want what I cant have, hear what I want to hear.

Incident 2

Tue, 10 Oct 2006 15:18:20 GMT

Boy Incident 1
It was strange walking around a policeman’s bedroom at 7.00 am. When you think that you’re being sly about laughing at his photos, when it’s actually obvious. He reminded me so much of Pete Doherty. I think that’s why he is so attractive, the absolute drug mess look and also the power over society he has. Never would get with him though.

Boy Incident 2
I like this boy the best. His room made me smile, the cardboard box, keeping the ariel on his television straight. He makes me the happiest when I see him. Just a shame I don’t see him by myself often enough. He attracts me because I don’t understand him. Why do I feel like he does not like me though? Why does he like me though? He’s fascinating. I told myself that he would be mine. I just might be in love with him, if only he knew.

Boy Incident 3
He has big hair and is by far the most beautiful. He rings me when I’m ill and our conversations drift off to talking about family trees and dwarfs. I just think that he is far too perfect. I haven’t seen his bedroom.

Boy Incident 4
He smells, his bedroom smells and I’m banned from his house. I love him though.

Boy Incident 5
He hasn’t spoken to me in a while. I see him every day and he always flashes a smile. He is so innocent, I wouldn’t like to take that away from him.

Boy Incident 6
He was quite attractive but spent the whole night talking about his ex girlfriend, when we went on that date ages ago. Which was okay, because it made it clear, that we were only friends.

Boy Incident 7
He only texts me so far. He offered to buy me a drink. He’s really sweet but I would hate to hurt him. He also smells really nice which is a thumbs up. Shame I’m too hung over someone.

I wish I could have him.

my feet are sticking to the floor where my toes have bled

Sun, 24 Sep 2006 20:45:22 GMT

Isn’t it strange how things can change in a year or minute or more? And I’m on my own and can’t even deal with myself. How can I laugh when my mouth is held back and I'm struggling now just to smile? How can it go from so good to so bad?

I liked it so much, that this morning, I didn’t want to go, but still I had to keep my cool, so I got up got dressed and went. He gave me a lift home, a subtle good bye and I went into my house, not looking back, just hearing the car drive off.

For the whole day, I went out by myself, I looked across the woodland and fresh luscious grass. I think about all the things, of what he might be doing, I get a picture in my head. I still couldn’t put my finger on what makes me bite my nails. It could be him.

Where’s that love I once had? I sold it to someone I don’t know.

It could be him. I’m sure it’s him.

thunderbolt

Tue, 19 Sep 2006 23:19:56 GMT

The ground was bitter on my bum, and due to the quantity of alcohol I had consumed, I found the rain wonderful. I recall being sat in somebody else’s bottle green jacket watching the rain plummet. I got a hand from someone to aid me stand up, then I stumbled to that boy’s house. Remembering the face expressions he pulled but not a word he said. I wasn’t listening to what he was saying, just how.

Enough of that night though.

Saturday night was brilliant too. Luke was there, it makes me pleased how he likes chilli and chips and my double jointed thumb.

So what is it, do I go for the fresh new person or the thunderbolt? Fresh new person sounds good, but nothing can beat the thunderbolt.

answers

Wed, 23 Aug 2006 22:54:10 GMT

I was young, I was stupid back then, I had just turned sixteen. I fell in love with Jerry back then, now I realise all the things that made me happy now make me sad. Remember thinking how can something so beautiful, like our relationship, just fall apart?

Never found out the answer.

I need to find a man. A good man who is honest and loyal. But a true good man is a one that can make a woman, feel like a good one

polly

Thu, 10 Aug 2006 19:12:04 GMT

I have officially been signed out of training at work, managing to give the shifty smile to button eyes still. There are so many beautiful people that work at Northern Rock call centre, I wonder if button eyes notices me. The section manager told me I suited my name today. Polly.

I got banned from my ex boyfriends house, Jerry. I sneaked out of his house at early hours on a Saturday night. I just vanished, I like to just wander places where no one knows where I am or what I’m doing. However, when I arrived back at Jerry’s, I got some devilish looks of his mother and her sharp tongue, explaining how I wasn’t welcome to their house. I felt nothing, I did feel sort of bad for making them be anxious but I thought she got her own back, so I refused to feel terrible.

I just disappeared into the night, and for it to stay perpetually underground to where i went.

crush

Thu, 03 Aug 2006 20:59:20 GMT

Button eyes was in work today and I was doing my call listening right next to him. He is the most adorable person I have ever seen. He has these piercing eyes and this snug nose with a small delightful smile to compliment. I found out his name was “Mark.”

I cant help myself but to look across the department to see if I can spot his black hair that sits on his head like a shiny helmet. These crushes are fun.

button eyes

Tue, 01 Aug 2006 17:35:35 GMT

It was when I was doing my call listening at work a few days ago, and I was drawn to this mash of black hair and these big engulfing fresh water eyes. It was like they gobbled me right up, they were truly beautiful all right. Its bizarre, I cant guess his age and I am hesitant whether he was trying to grasp my eye or if I was envisioning it.

I haven’t seen him recently but I always have a quick sneak to see if he’s at his desk. When he is, I flicker a smile, he almost makes the pain from swollen hand fritter. I’ve nick named him button eyes, because his eyes are like big buttons.

The swollen hand is a consequence of the weekend I had with jerry. It seems, as his vicious side has not yet deserted him. His eyes still look glossy when he gets angry, and he still clenches his fists to frighten me. That’s when he slammed my hand in the door. Accidental? On purpose?

Hope I get to know button eyes.

mrs jones

Thu, 27 Jul 2006 22:47:53 GMT

I feel more like Bridget Jones than ever, perhaps slightly frumpy, forever single, and working in an office environment. I don’t mind being a little plump and even working in an office, it’s the single part of the package that grinds me down a little bit.

How could Charles reject me? I’m completely over him as well now (doesn’t take a heartless person long), but I am infuriated in the way he dropped me at a flicker of an eyelid. Why do I get interested in the boys that embody all bad characteristics?

I got Jerry now. So what I make of this weekend may form my whole future love life.

Ding dong.

if i could do just one perfect thing i'd be happy

Tue, 25 Jul 2006 23:44:14 GMT

Last year was a set of shattered dreams. Looking through past entries, reminiscing about people, feelings and thoughts I had. I told myself, at the time, that certain people would be mine. What a joke. I never really loved them anyway .The faces of some people, still flicker in the reflections of shiny objects. If only they knew. Unlucky for me, unlucky that I’m not the lucky one.

When I went to the beach on Sunday, the waves washed all the wrongness away, all the visions of some people away. I might just be in love with that someone. Drowning my heart in sunlight. The day was truly beautiful alright. If only he knew.

I said goodbye to everyone at the beach, about 9.00pm. Knowing the only thing in my life I will ever be sure about is death.

can you swim any day in november

Fri, 21 Jul 2006 10:08:29 GMT

It was cool sitting on the beach with Jerry and Ant. They dug a hole with baby red plastic spades, while I sunbathed in my big white hat and purple sunglasses, while the hot sand was caressing my stomach, legs and chest. It was quite an erotic feeling which made me feel slightly turned on in a controlled healthy way. We all discussed our love lives, while admiring the attractive girls in bikinis.

I felt a bit insecure after a while after Jerry hadn’t paid any compliments to my curvilinear figure and new bikini, but the texts of a certain someone who I thought would never be interested cheered me up, massively. Only thing is, they are just texts, I wouldn’t take them any further. I need Jerry, but wanting is a different thing totally.

So I ran from my towel and went in the sea, watching the waves lapping my thighs, being alone, completely. It’s unusual for the weather to allow you to take a dip in the North Sea.

I’m going to lie in the sun again, maybe prepare my lecture to Jerry, on why I have to leave.

first impressions

Wed, 19 Jul 2006 08:10:37 GMT

I went to help my mother at work the other day. She is a school teacher at a secondary school in a deprived area near Middlesbrough. It was strange to see children in clothes that looked so common and vulgar. Little girls strutting in short skirts and bras in a public place. I was truly disgusted but surprisingly they seemed to be the most welcoming, happy people I have ever met.

It’s peculiar how things are. I now know not to be so judgemental.

not even jerry

Mon, 17 Jul 2006 02:42:30 GMT

Me and Christopher hit the floor hard. After a month of not seeing eachother I finally told him over the Internet that we were not to be. Maybe it was cowardly to do it over the Internet, but in comparison to him, I was a hero. Somebody had to say something, thing was, neither of us knew each other well enough to feel comfortable confronting each other. This made life troublesome.

That was old news anyway.

I have been seeing an ex boyfriend a lot recently. I walked with him on the beach today holding hands. "Jerry, why do you like me so much?" I always say. He always replies with "I haven’t quite figured that one out yet." Its quite peculiar how Jerry manages to get unbelievably attractive girls, when he is not a complete looker him self, I’d say average. It’s probably that sexy manly attitude he has which secretly makes me feel weak at the knees. I loved it when the night before, I was slightly pissed, and he pinned me down, trying, to control me. Trying is a very good word.

No one can control me. Not even Jerry and he know me best.

Mon, 10 Jul 2006 09:59:18 GMT

I rested awake for ages last night, thinking. I was still stirring about the failure with Charles. I kept reassuring myself that it wasn’t my fault by sitting up on my bed and nodding and smiling to myself in the reflection on the mirror. This probably made me doubt myself even more.

I eventually had to force myself to think about something else because I kept on becoming more cynical as the seconds trudged by. I cheered my solemn self up by thinking about Saturday night. How I was by myself with all the boys, middle of attention, winning a game of Pool, thanks to the pint of Fosters managed to improve my Pool skills by far.

I wonder if he even thought about me at all.