Flinging Ourselves Into The Deep Blue

There are so many decisions to make and so many moments in my life where I feel unqualified to make them.

I’m not prone to asking for help and I feel ill at ease when in another’s debt. Yet, we all come across situations where decisions are time sensitive, life altering and mostly they make you feel like you’re about to fling yourself into the Deep Blue. And honestly? I’m scared. Scared at what I will do as much as I’m scared at what I won’t do.

Movies can make matters so simple. A thought, a motivational speech, perhaps a stranger on a bus telling you Dude, it’s your life! And that end decision that’s made in a dash – that cliché moment where all is right and credits roll. No showing the consequences on the people we affect without realising on a daily basis.
Just forget that that stranger on the bus doesn’t know your life. That they’re facing crap too outside of the bus and most probably just quoting a movie watched by all and sprouting ideologies all viewers will begin to believe.

I want to make my decision. I always want to make it myself, and thankfully always have. So I’ll never be able to blame anyone but me. And I can have the pleasure of staying firm upon it because I, myself chose it.

But I’m still queasy of the Deep Blue. And I want the familiar surrounding of my parents love that I have never spent a moment without.

Is this growing up? Is this what movies try to portray? Because frankly they’re doing it wrong and they’re giving the worst advice. Real life gives you joy in unease and unease in joy. It concocts the happiness we seek with the past we shy away from. And it meshes the happiness of the past with the future with shy way from. Deep Blue Unknown.

I pray that whichever decision is made is the best. And that all resulting consequence are for the absolute best. Ameen.

Drama on the UCAS Lane

having written, re written and re-re-written countless drafts of my “perfect” personal statement I have now been sidetracked to this blog. My poor neglected I’ll-visit-you-once-a-month-honey-blog.

With the shocking aftermaths of the spicy chicken tika nan I built this morning for work I’ll dive right in. Dragon fire and all…

Personal Statements.

Use capital letter here and O-M-G don’t use capital letters there!

for Gods sake NEVER EVER to the DEATH OF YOU put quotes in your P-S!

It’s four thousand CHARACTERS NOT LETTERS dimwit

And numbers MUST BE WRITTEN in letter form understand?

FOCUS on the modules you’ll learn

Dude, they know what they’ll give you! BUT WHAT THE HELL can YOU give them?

is that even the way to use a semi-colon?

Sweetheart it totally needs to be personal but totally formal but totally truthful but totally positive but totally enthusiastic but totally seriously committed to it.

And that is the reality behind a genuine personal statement. Only I’ve found that once you understand your subject matter you flow through brilliantly.

Want to know the bitter part?
EDITING and SPLICING and SHRINKING to fit the quota required.

If it’s not evident in the entry, this is actually a Good luck gals and guys of all ages and races! May you get the choice you want and may the years ahead be epic! Xxx

Yes, My Plans Reject Me but I AM NOT YOU.

A idea, a pamphlet, a distraction

it becomes embedded my my nerves as well.

I plan. Plan so much; routes, times, lists, pictures, speech.

And when the day hits I go.

Mostly.

When I do what do I feel? Happy? Content?

Like I have finally achieved something?

Perhaps it’s just that I left comfort, done something. Found a Me.

Made a draft that I painted in full.

Because when it doesn’t happen I feel death.

I feel a heart crumpled, a vein blocked.

A mind melded to a lumped throat

Drawings of routes, times, lists, pictures and speech useless.

A waste.

Crying won’t help so don’t go about sad.

Plot. Plan more. Keep doing it again and again and again until I plan Perfection.

I plan Happiness.

I plan Contentment.

One day I will find Me.

and you? You can just watch. You can chat, misunderstand, hate or even be wiser than me.

But me? I will have done life.

I pray my Lord stays with me. Always.

Frustrated

Frustration.

Pure unadulterated bloody effing frustration.

It’s like I take a step and 5 more doors slam on me, bolted shut and bounced by the bodyguard of bureaucracy.

We live, looking to the future, always thinking (even subconsciously) of the best. Hoping and being told over and over again that there is Always Hope. That when life hands you lemons you go and make some bloody lemonade.

But, what if your luck is so terrible that even those lemons you’re handed aren’t ripe? That the zesty sour citrus is actually achingly acidic?

I’m dousing this entry with pessimism I know.

I had intended to make a post about successfully living through the first three weeks of college with the juggling of work and travel, and all the happiness I feel in being able to take on Adcanced Maths (so so SO very happy by the way).

But word must come as my fingers fly over this well selected keyboard, and they do, a will of their own and I will conclude this post with these words.

Working for your dream, for the chances that should appear but never do, is damn fricking hard!

I suppose that’s why success is said to be so sweet.

BUT will success ever truly be satisfactory? Will not our mind seek to pursue more? Human nature being ungrateful as it is, never content with the walkway, the escalator, the elevator or even a bloody cherry picker. We want to reach that star and there will always be more stars beyond that.

I’m obviously in a very optimistic mood here.

I pray to my Lord that He keeps me content, that He makes me thankful with what I have and always be happy with even the little successes in life. Ameen.