Snow and condensation

Gradual habituation is definitely a hard task. I've given up my life to exposure. It seems my sallow flesh is revelling in the momentary coup d'etat of anxiety. I've sat through an attack. I've made it through an attack! Although, the ebbing away of incessant fear has had another more consequential implication; I am rapidly drifting away from friends. My old feelings of pandering to the emotional fall-outs of friendships has diminished. My gradual emancipation has left me reeling at the thought of falling victim to anymore emotional sycophancy - "But he-he-he-told her..." - endless in its monotony. I can no longer pretend to cower at the prospect of independence and the freedom to assemble my life. My hope is that there can still be a means of understanding in close friendships. Jealousy and grovelling doesn't sit well with me; especially when things have expired beyond any poignant capacity.

My stomach feels nauseous and my head is throbbing, but I do feel the strength to continue past this point. Let it snow.

What do you want to be?

These same questions have been thrust at me many times in the past couple of weeks: What do I want to be? What do I want to do? I thought I didn't know, or rather I'd like to have not known. It seems that empty, transient feeling of anxiety seemed to still paralyse my being into some belligerent catatonic state. Pray, no more! I'm done, honest-to-god! I've had to scream out my passions, and not just the superficial. By no means am I there, but I know what I must say - I WANT TO BE A WRITER. I WANT TO BE FREE. It's hard. I have already diverted from the narrative of my peers, by withdrawing from my degree course and releasing dreams of escape. I've rebelled, in the most passive way possible. Bravery is not the word, but neither is cowardice. I'm gaining the ability to hold posession of self. I had to recapture who I was, in order to determine who I may become. All the congratulations have faded and I'm aware of the scrutiny I will now be under; a what-the-hell-does-she-think-she's-doing? I'm not wrong, but my mistakes do seem to follow a peculiar timeline. There is no more time to be lost, only time to expose myself to the frivolity of life.

Regression and confusion.

I really thought I'd made progress this year - I have made progress. I just need to create some semblance of a tangible, visceral adulthood. I completed my first day of university and after the brief europhoria had abeited, I couldn't help but feel overcome by the same anxieties that made me drop out of sixth form. Needless to say, the 'what if?' questions surfaced and manic reading of any anxiety related symptoms. It's all irrational and hormone induced, but it's too easy to slip back into old avoidance habits. Structure and strength are the necessities to which are very much lacking in my humble life. Time calls for a physical and mental altercation. No hyperventilating.

But for now I retain sanity with Sade.

Stars that came like rain out of the blue...

Chet, Chet, Chet, I LOVE YOU!

Your voice, your whisper, your jaw line and even your fragile quiff. You are the only person who revives my faith when I'm falling into the blue. Chet - my buddy, my friend, my nocturnal mate.

If only I had been a little older and you a little less beautiful, maybe?

Feeling inspired with tired eyes.

Although I still feel a little ill and very introspective (hormones really do not to stop reeking havoc upon my mind, body and soul) I'm feeling pretty chirpy - every menstrual down comes with a flurry of creativity, right? Browsing the web and enjoying a chinese take-away with good friends always seems to illuminate the mind. As promised, many moons ago, I shall start posting pictures. My Pentax K1000 has been hanging around on my shelf for a couple of years and I've yet to develop all my films. I've been a bit hesistant about developing sooner, due to the belief that they will never be as beautiful as I've imagined them. I mean, as romantic as cycling around Italy, whilst snapping shots with yellow light filters seems; the mystique fades when faced by multiple bicycle chain accidents and nagging brothers. Diane Arbus, I am not!

Moving on from my apparent lack of talent and imagined dreams of artistic integrity... I've become obsessed with evolving my style into something with a little moreumph . I've drifted between the mandatory trenchcoat (my staple of the past few years has the most wonderful leopard print inside lining) and jersey everything. Recently, I've noticed many woman drifting between the same use of utility comfort and tailoring chic and I'm ashamed to say, I've been put off. The elitist which delves beneath my aesthetic flesh is saddened to find the rest of the world stealing my supposed 'style secrets'. Anyway, I've given up on looking like Anna Karina à la 'Alphaville' and need to reorganise my wardrobe into a set of staple garments: comfortable classic cuts and an array textures. I just want simplicty without the hassle of falling into monotony and plagerism.

Enough, I've already posted far too much during the past few days. I just really need to pile up the trash and sell it at a market with a friend.

Trying to let go

It's somewhat irrational to write on a blog about how I feel; especially when no one reads it. That's probably the comfort of it all, this small space on the net that can retain all my manifesting thoughts. Eitherway, I've come back to this place again to dwell, think and overcome. There is a deep need inside of myself to overcome the strange, distorting and emotional roots of anxiety. As much as I've tried to convince myself over the past year, it seems the fear has not abeited. I'm reaching a point of frustration and that 'I-don't-give-a-fuck' attitude to the whole panic thing.

Seriously, when will they go?

As stupid as it is to assume my fears can somehow drift away like pollen in the spring, it's still not unreasonable. Why can't there be an antihistamnine to soothe the irritation of fear? With all the advances in medical science, it would be just to presume this would all go away...

I don't quite know if it's the anticipation of starting university and the realisation that my life is finally moving into one secure path. I'm not afraid of the journey but rather the brief and distressing disruptions in between. All I want to do is pull over, take a deep breath and take in the view. The though processes behind this are all out of whack - I mean, how and why do I keep awaiting something negative to take place? I just want to be as I am, as I was and as I will be.

I'm too lazy and maybe PMS has something to do with it. I want results but without any real effort. I'm too afraid to admit to myself that something terrifying WON'T happen. The contionous cycle of negative thoughts are excaberating themselves into some real, tangible existance - panic.

I need to stop being so dependent on 'safe' objects, people, places and stop being so unhinged about the world that bustles around under me. I want to travel again, love, laugh and FEEL as though I'm enjoying myself as oppossed to merely existing. I've been leading more of an existance the last few months but I know it's foolish to assume it's a real substitute for life. Distinguishing between self and reality is commendable as an intellectual venture, but not when reality has become fiction unto itself.

I'm just done exposing myself to uncomfortable situations for short periods of time and believing that has cured me of the original ailment. Fear breeds fear and so far my plaster-over-it approach doesn't seem to helping much. It's time for a real life change that I can fully commit myself to. Persistance.

-Read
-Walk
-Talk
-Enjoy

Things that I have achieved...

What is the best way to describe a passing of time, without seeming too clichéd? Present. Time has passed and at the tender age of 19, I've suddenly become overun by feelings of intense maturity. I'm constantly trying to exact responsibility and fight off the urge of calling my mum everytime a situation becomes too stressful. Now, I don't want to overstate my foray into adulthood, it's still very premature but even with feelings of self-doubt, I'm managing to get a hold of myself (momentarily).
Over the past year, I've come to understand the power of one's rational and irrational mind. To put it even more simply; I'm trying de root the seeds of my anxieties and contextualize them within the framework of rational thought. It all sounds extremely melodramatic but it seems to be working somewhat. Eitherway, my understanding of humanity and all things relative to it: love, life, companionship, patience, understanding, laugther...has become far more well rounded. There's only so long you can go on evading the truth - shit happens but you can learn, love and move foward.
On that profound note, I thought I would congratulate myself on the things I have achieved these past few months and encourage anyone else to do the same. Each day you move foward, you also erode the fears which may have previously displaced you. Even simple tasks like having a drink with friends or ENJOYING a conversation with family can be opiate to the soul. Sometimes, we spend far too much time trivialising and ignorning the most simple things and it can be to our detriment. I've found that by slowly re aligning my priorities and concentrating on people and situations taking place in my immediate surroundings, my future seems to be illuminating and falling into place. By no means, do I want to get ahead of myself but there is something to be said for being at ease with what happens in both your public and private spheres. The balance is hard to achieve and I'm not quite there yet, but there is the foundation and acknowledgement between my rational and irrational mind that there can be clarity.
This post seems to be dribbling all over my keyboard and trailing off: it's meant to be a manifesto of acceptence to myself. I must learn to appreciate and recognise my own progression and that of others around me. As people we are not stale, static and unchanged by circumstances, but we must always confess and concede our achievements and not succumb to our doubts and fears.

Quotation is a servicable substitute for wit.

Deadpan blogging doesn't suit me very well, better leave it to Charlie Brooker and let this blog be an ode to my attempt at youth. Although, I have come across ways to further my intellect or lack thereof - I've scribbled down lists that I need to complete by the summer.

Goals to set oneself:

1) Read an inordinate amount of French decadent literature and Sacher-Masoch.
2)Wear classic cuts and resume collection of trench coats, in ode of Camus.
3)Find a comfortable pair of shoes that resemble the versatility of loafers and style of brogues.
4)No matter how many times espadrilles are mocked, try and wear them with pride through the spring/summer months.
5)Go to Mac and find the perfect shade of foundation and imitate the slap of silent film dolls.
6)Step away from the hair straighteners and think of the curls - a follicle holocaust should be avoided through 2010.
7)Eat healthily and redcurrant puffs do not count toward your 5-a-day.

There should be a lot more but those would be good things to stick to...hypothetically. Sorry for the lack of aphorisms but my life is far too dull to maintain a healthy blog.