Protests Unheard.

Dear Friends,

I read an article about the march that took place against austerity measures, at which individuals such as Russell Brand spoke against austerity, the government and other major National issues. What hit me most, however, were the comments.

Most of the commentators complained about Brand, which I think was a little unfair. They complained that his time and money could be better spent elsewhere - perhaps he should give a chunk of his money to charity, they suggested. Seems like a fair argument, right? Except giving to a charity, whilst wonderful, would not necessarily benefit the people that he is trying to help. There is no real charity for impoverished Britons. The only institution that could be called a charity for us is the British Government, but they have instead turned their back and angered us into protestation. The commentators also argued that Russell Brand just wanted the publicity, which I think was irrelevant. Regardless of his motives, his involvement is raising awareness of important issues. That should be what matters.

Other commentators called this a 'march of idiots'. That, I think, is possibly the most frustrating of all. It seems that we cannot fight for what we believe in without being told that we are foolish and simply wrong. The cynics in this country outnumber the activists. Everyone is angry, and most people care, but very few are fighting for what they want. Others are too tired to be angry, or too ignorant of the suffering in their own country. But maybe the cynics are right. It doesn't matter how many people protest, nor how hard, those in power do not listen. Fracking is possibly one of the most idiotic ideas so far, but all the protests were ignored and it will go ahead. I dream of the day when people with common sense are given power in this country and retain that common sense.

It's even worse if the protesters are young. Then people talk about 'youth culture', 'lack of experience', and so forth. We can't do anything right. We protested about the raise of tuition fees, peacefully. Then the Liberal Democrats ignored the people who got them into power and changed the main policy that they were voted in for. Thus we learn that when we protest peacefully, although by no means quietly, nothing changes. We also learn, again, that we cannot trust a politician to keep his promises. Then a few of us protest less peacefully, and the whole generation is cast as thugs. At least people noticed that protest. But, did anything change? Of course not. Because more attention was given to the outlet of anger than the reason. We write, we sing, we shout, we scream, we burn. Nothing changes. 

We are ignored because we are young and just 'don't understand', but then by the time we grow up our passion is gone. We are too tired to fight, there are too many other things to do, someone else will do it. How can we ever win in a world where no one listens to the impassioned, especially if they are young, if they are female, or if they are right. No one asks why people are angry, they just ignore or criticise.

The condition of indifference is spreading, taking hold earlier and relinquishing only a few from its grip.


Doing the right thing isn't cool any more. When people ask why I am a vegetarian I almost feel like I have to justify myself. I'm told that I am not a feminist because I want equality and don't hate men. My mother tells me that now is the time to fight for what I believe in, yet the rest of the world tells me that I am too young to make a difference, I have no experience, I know nothing.



I'll tell you what I know. I know how it feels to cry in front of my mentor because we couldn't afford the bus fare, which by the way was £1.70. I know how it feels to sit in an RE class while people slander those on benefits because they don't understand that people can have a job, work hard, and be an important member of society whilst on benefits. I know how it feels to go home and wonder if we have enough food for the week despite those benefits. I know how it feels to believe that my life is worth nothing, my body not worth feeding, because I believed I could do nothing with it. I know how it feels to have nearly not been here, then to be wrenched back to life and have to be taught that I can smile, breathe, and dream. I know how it feels to hear mental illnesses mocked and used as adjectives by my peers. I know how it feels, as does every woman, to walk home alone full of terror with my keys between my fingers because if someone attacks me it will be my fault.

I don't know how it feels to be discriminated against because of my the colour of my skin, my sexuality, my religion or my background. I am lucky in that respect. I still know it isn't fair. As do millions of others who fight for others as well as themselves. The unfortunate part is that there is still something to fight about. Why shouldn't everyone be equal? What is wrong with a world where everything is shared so that no one goes hungry, wherever they live? We live in a world where many people are more shocked by two gay men or women kissing than world hunger.

Things must change. Just because most protests go unheard doesn't mean we shouldn't try. Even though I might not make a difference, I will protest until my throat burns dry and my keyboard is broken. We each have our own talents. If we want to change the world, we have to use those talents to change the world ourselves. God knows nobody else will do it for us.

What is so wrong with love that we must teach hate?

My best friends.

Dear friends,

I have two best friends in this world, and today I was finally reunited with my William! Very, very happy. That kid is just something else. We chatted for a while, he practised his magic tricks on me (very cool, and it seems I am very gullible...) and taught me poker, we got ice cream, and then I finally got to hear him sing again when we met some friends busking and he was asked to join in. He has a lovely voice and they were playing some excellent songs so I had a thoroughly enjoyable time chilling and listening to them in the sun.
I'd missed him so much, and am so glad that distance has not ruined our friendship but strengthened it.
Whilst we were talking today he commented that he 'completes' me, and I realised that he was right. After seeing him I no longer feel like half of a whole.

Now I just need to see Cheryl and I will have been reunited with my best two <3

Desk lamps

http://www.boredpanda.com/exotic-gourd-lamps-by-calabarte/

This is how I imagine the concept of a person 'lighting up your life'.

Everyone is different, so their light would be different, not just the classic IKEA desk lamp's singularly styled gaze. Everyone who ever lit up my life in some way shone their own distinct light pattern on it.

Perhaps the cool effervescent light of a human soul -already glowing in its own pattern - is actually marked, although not marred, by the light patterns of other souls that touched it.

Pretty cool, huh?

Besides all that philosophical crap those lamps really are damn interesting.

The old and the new.

Dear Friends,
(That greeting seems to be becoming a thing. Not yet sure if I like it, but will extend the trial a little further).
Today has seen a few firsts, including first experiences of changed things, and some simple old things/loves.
Firstly, I had my first ever interview today! Muchos excitement, I know. I was surprised to find that I felt more confidence than nervousness (although nerves were definitely present), and I think that's probably a good thing. The interviewer seemed to like it anyway. He was pretty cool and vastly improved the whole experience for both of us by being friendly and honest, and I remain hopeful because he gave me good feedback. All in all, whether or not I actually get the job, a good new experience!
Whilst in town post-interview I went to get my helix piercing changed for a smaller size, and simultaneously met up with an old school friend. It was slightly strange to see an old friend like him under new circumstances, but it was actually quite nice. We were interested in the directions the other had taken, but not over-interested in a way that some old friends can be when you meet for the first time after a year or two and they want to know everything that has happened to you. It was chilled, and it was fine, and I probably wouldn't mind meeting up for a catch up again.
Later in the day, I saw another familiar face in a new situation: George, as a friend. It was a little odd to chat with him without the relationship context, but it was actually (to be honest, surprisingly) nice to see him and talk alone for a little while, as our only communications since breaking up had been a few short text messages. I also saw his parents, which was painful because I absolutely adore them and am still sad to have let go of the privilege of calling them my 'second parents'. But George and I are both okay, neither of us regretting the decision to end the relationship but rather respecting it, and seem to have no negative feelings towards one another.
Since coming home, I have mostly just been continuing to reread The Fault In Our Stars by John Green, which continues to be as brilliant as I remember. Another oldie in a new context. I do understand some of it slightly better than when I read it roughly two years (?) ago, and appreciate the fantastic writing/language even more than I did the first time, which is saying something. I swear to god I have more sticky notes and scraps of paper marking this book than any other book I have ever read. But I can't help myself, because there is at least one delicious sentence on every single page of this wonderful book. I cannot recommend it enough. As I told my mum this evening: such an abundance of pink sticky notes is a sure sign of my love.
I also had a conversation with mum's new lodger this evening, and never before has the statement that 'books recommend people' been more true. The woman loves Shakespeare, and like me mistrusts people who say that they do not read, or do not carry books with them in some form. She studied and later taught English, and just totally understands my book feels. Incredible! Mum sure picks people well.

I am now typing this in bed, and, once I have tired my eyes with reading, will be off to sleep. All this has made for a rather exhausting day. Sleep well, friends. Dream magnificent dreams.

Year One

Dear friends,

My first year at Keele University is at its end, and it truly has been an extraordinary year. I've fallen in love with this place, and the people I have come to know since September. I've loved my lectures, finally being able to solely focus on the subject I love with like-minded people who actually damn well want to be here. I have been in walking distance of a beautiful Hall and its woodlands, alongside the countless coffee shops, bars, and general hubbub of Uni life. It'll be weird to live off campus next year and be further away from it all. I'll miss the woods, but I can't wait to put some distance between myself and drunken students keeping us all up at 4am!

The people that tell you that you find out who your real friends are when you go to university are right, but I am happy to be left with the people who stayed. I have also gained some brilliant friends that I am privileged to have shared this year with. Hopefully I'll see some of them over the summer, although a few of them are slightly further out of reach.

I can't believe how lucky I've been to meet such brilliant friends. Sam and Rachel, my neighbouring couple, are currently chilling with me in Rachel's bed watching Criminal Minds with ice cream, chocolate, the lot. And we do this alllll the time <3 Besides that they are quite simply wonderful crazy friends. Yas is crazy adorable and understanding. Becky and I are on exactly the same wavelength, all the time, and she writes, and is a feminist and luuurves Rocky Horror as much as I do. Shy also writes and is this super cute, crazy little hip hop freak. Danielle is so cute, loud, funny, and always lovely. Ian is on my wavelength in ways other people rarely are. Nick, Charles and Phil are all totally different but equally talented writers whom I have been privileged to know as my colleagues in classes this year. It is amazing to know that during my first year at University I have been surrounded by people who genuinely get me, are super caring, super fun, and just brilliant in their own little ways. They all bring out the best parts of me, and have all changed me (I believe for the better) in little ways.

So things have changed, and I have changed. Sometimes that has been damn painful, but hopefully always for the better.

My relationship with my father basically disintegrated this year, and after so many years of trying to fix it I think its about time we both gave up. I appreciate that he has tried to be a great dad and always stay in contact with me, and that we have had some great times together, but I also know that we cannot keep pretending. We just don't work. We don't get on and I find it hard to believe that we ever will. I will never accept the way he speaks about and treats my mother or my brothers. I will try to forgive but will never forget the pain and anger I see in their eyes when I mention my dad, or when I tell them that we fought again. The pain a person causes your loved ones is something you never stop seeing when you have seen it once, even if you have all tried to forgive and forget for each other's sake. While my dad has never been truly awful to me, he still had a constant, irrevocable ability to make me feel awful about myself, and that is the kind of damaging relationship that needs walking away from.

My relationship with George has also ended, and I am honestly a little nervous to go home and see what life without him is like. It's easier here because George was rarely at Uni with me, but I know that when I go home there will be memories like ghosts haunting every place I knew with him. It's been a long time since I did home life single, and that scares me bit. I think that's when it will hit me and hurt, but for now I am in limbo. I have banned myself from dating until I get back to Uni in October, because I definitely need time to recuperate and figure out who this woman is that I am becoming.

I've changed in many ways as well. I have learned the enormous benefits of taking risks and finally throwing myself into the things that are important to me. I have performed on a goddamned stage with the rest of the dance society, facing my fears and taking on a challenge that I had always fearfully avoided before now. I would never have done that before university. I am more accepting of myself now: I'm aware that my good parts and my flaws are all just part of me; if other people can love me for who I am with all that included, why shouldn't I? I smile more now, at others and at things. Smiling is good, I've found. As are meditation, yoga and walking, all of which help me keep my balance. The confident, adventurous side of myself (a family trait that I always envied my brother for exuding) has definitely come out, and I am continually excited at the prospect of adventure, of novelties, and of exploration.

If my first year at University has taught me anything at all, it has taught me this: I CAN do anything! If I want it and fight for it enough, I just can! How amazing and magical is that?

After all that I've been through, all the people that I have met and that I have loved, all that has happened and all that I have done, I really believe in magic. I believe in magic that comes from sharing your life with extraordinary people, taking risks and noticing the little things as well as the big ones.

The woman that made my tea on Thursday gave me a genuine smile, I have my books, and life will continue to be beautiful, and that is what got me through sitting at the Thursday table alone for the first time since January.

Of course I still have sad days, but I know that those days always pass because this is the kind of sad that just takes time. My friends and my experiences this year make those days a hell of a lot easier to get through, and even the good days are better now.

I will be home with my mum very soon, and I cannot wait for whatever this summer might bring.

Woah.

http://distanceandchanges.tumblr.com/post/87713676588/halloweenrose-otheranonymous

Say What You Want To Say

Dear Friends,
It seems nonsensical, doesn't it, that a person would need to be told that they can say what they want to say. Surely we all do that anyway?
We really, really don't. Especially if we are English, and thus supremely reserved. Ridiculous as it sounds, people do not just say what they really want to say. That's a simple, well-known and forever disappointing fact. The real question is why.
Often, it's because we are afraid of the consequences of doing what we want and saying what we want - we might get hurt, laughed at, etc. But really, is there anything to be afraid of? Sure, sometimes people just might think you are a bit weird and you might regret it a little bit. But what about the times when you say something you wanted to say, although you weren't sure you should, and something great happens?
I met a guy who had this extraordinary ability to negate all of my inhibitions. I would literally just say whatever the fuck was on my mind when I was with him, even though sometimes that terrified me. My argument to myself was: what have I got to lose? Instead of losing anything, I gained so much, because only good things ever followed my saying what I wanted to say. He didn't judge me, he listened and often agreed with or even loved what I had to say. Hell, once he even kissed me for it. Sure, sometimes in other circumstances I've spoken my mind and it sucked a little bit because I was embarrassed. But the majority of the time, whoever I'm talking to, it's the best and right thing to do, and good things have come of it. So in my experience, the things we stand to gain from being brave and saying what we want to say far outweigh the fears of damaged pride if it doesn't go our way.
Sometimes, saying what we want can have bigger consequences. It can change someone's life, or change the world. If you don't like the way someone is being treated, how about you be the person that speaks up even though it's scary?
My favourite people on TV are actually a couple of news-reporters. There's this one guy on Channel Four News that always asks proper questions that make the asshole he's interviewing squirm. He doesn't say what anybody else wants him to say, he says what he wants to, and it's bloody brilliant to watch.
So if speaking out can be such a good thing, why the hell, people, are you all keeping your mouths shut when you have something you want to say??
Just say it. Because if you want to say it that badly, but are afraid to, it probably needs to be said.

Stay a Little Longer

It takes quite a lot out of you to say goodbye sometimes. I've been told before that saying goodbye is easier with people you haven't known long because you apparently don't care as much. Calling bullshit on that one.

On Thursday I said goodbye to a group of people that I have grown incredibly fond of this past semester, two of whom I have known since February and the rest I only met a few weeks ago. By no-one's terms was that easy. The two that I've known longer were particularly difficult. They were all going home to America, back to their home universities, so we had dinner together to mark the last night of their semester of study abroad. Obviously, therefore, it is quite a stretch to go and visit (although I do plan to), and this goodbye felt much more permanent than some. I wanted to beg them to stay, to never leave, to have one more drink and one more memory. Obviously I couldn't.

Warning: There will be lots of songs in this post, with lyrics that mean a lot. Words are my favourite thing in the world, so this post will contain a lot of them and not all will be mine although they say what I don't know how to. For example:

Brother's Osborne - Stay a Little Longer

I held it together pretty well when we actually said goodbye, although I was a little teary. When I got back, however, I collapsed onto my bed and cried for a good long time. At one point it felt like my ribcage was being torn down the centre by a bolt of lightning. I couldn't actually tell if I wanted to cry, sleep or throw up.

Big reaction for people I met less than a year ago, right?
You see, it doesn't take very long for someone to matter.

The thing is, I don't mind that it tore me apart, because I know that just means that I made true friends and have had such a beautiful time. To quote John Green: 'It hurts because it mattered.'

Some people come into your life and stay for a long time, other encounters may be fleeting, but I do not believe that this makes them any less extraordinary. When you part with someone who matters, especially if it feels much too soon, it can feel like you are wrenched apart and left with a scar or a mark. A mark like that, a memory, allows the permanence of something that is now gone. You may forget the details or the specific words the stranger said, but you are changed by what they said or did or who they were, and that is something that cannot be undone.

Meeting this group of people changed who I am in little, important ways. I'm less afraid now in many ways. I take risks - some I probably shouldn't like running along high walls and getting lost in the woods. But now that I'm done saying goodbye, I have decided to start saying hello. If I hadn't taken the risk of talking to this random guy I didn't know, and spending time with a group of people in which those that I didn't know vastly outnumbered those that I did, I wouldn't have the friendships that I do now, or have had all that fun. So now I finish my first year at University having experienced some extraordinary things and some less cool ones and having met a vast array of people. I leave with the confidence and intent to go out into the world, start saying hello more, and have an adventure.

I don't remember the specific words he used, although I wish I did, but an extraordinary man once told me that we are all made up of the people we meet. It doesn't matter how long we were with them, or how big a piece they take up, they all still matter. The people that I am made up of, I treasure. Especially the ones that continue to shape who I am to this day, whom I will go home to in a week or two to drink, dance and build sofa forts. I will at least be able to see some of the Americans in September, if I manage to get my act together and buy my tickets over there, although I don't know how they feel about sofa forts.

For now our time is up, and although parting was awful and tore me in two like a lightning bolt, I am actually happy. I will treasure the wonderful mark that has been left on my life, and the memories of the time that we did have.

This grid of photos and the photos below are from a super cool day we all had together on Keele lawn in the sun. We also had a bonfire in Keele woods in the evening. Great day, great memories, great changes.

To Ian and Danielle, my gorgeous lovebuggs: I love you, I miss you, and I am grateful for you and everything you have given me. You are both astonishing people, hopefully that is something you'll never forget. Enjoy telling our stories. I look forward to hearing your own when I see you again.

To all of my far off friends: Keep being crazy wonderful people, and thank you so much for letting me into your midst!

Ian. I've decided: I think I'd be a bird too. The kind that won't shut up with its singing, that perches right at the top of the tree so I can take it all in, even though it must be scary to be that high. You never know, maybe one day I'd get to fly next to you again. Although you'd probably be the cooler, infamous bird that has seen so many more places than the rest of us, as per.