Septemberer.

Me again.

I went to the Lake District. Its beauty blew my mind.
Being a lover of photography, i went snap-happy on the lush rolling sheep-speckled landscape. However, i knew i had forgotten to pack something, so sure enough it was my camera charger, so i only grabbed a handful of pieces i am proud of.

As much as i do love the rain, i do not love an entire week of it, whilst i am on holiday, stuck with pessimistic people who dislike it somewhat. This lead to walks in the.. hydrated.. hills, with in itself led to my family (and admittedly at times, myself included) becoming delusionally bored due to the restriction on activities.
I stayed litterally on the shore of lake Windmere, in a glorified caravan/"lodge" park. The radiator in my bedroom was broken so i caught a cold which wasnt exactly fun, but it hit when i was on my last day there so it wasn't so terrible.

On the only day that there WAS a sunbeam, i flew. I ran off a cliff attatched to a paragliding wing, and i flew. It was liberating. I highly reccomend it to the non-accident-prone adrenaline junkies out there. Theres something about soaring hundreds of feet above the ground, sailing silently with the border of scotland in the horizon. I didnt want to touch my feet on the ground ever again.

Unfortunately i did have to litterally get my head out of the clouds, then return home. Today was my first day of VI form in a strange new school. Yesterday was the last day of my freedom of my childhood. Today has been somewhat surreal, and i still havent got used to saying "I used to go to <blaarg> high school". I met some truly lovely friendly people, but i still cling to high school. Don't get me wrong, i really enjoyed starting a (apologies for the true cheese in my phrasing) "new chapter" in my "book", but it is still yet to sink in that i have really "turned the page". I dont think i properly left my old school, my heart is still kinda there.
Maybe its because of all the friends and even a handful of teachers i know i miss, the familiarity, the simple knowledge of the colour scheme in the corridors, but i know that eventually i will detach myself, and this saddens me. I dont want to, not yet.

I'm not quite there yet, but i will be.

Post-Newday2012. Yes, miracles happen.

Well then, last week was an eye opener.
From last Monday afternoon, until Sunday morning I was camping at the christian festival Newday. Last year as I mentioned before was my first time going, and this time I knew what to expect and knew the people around me on my site, making the whole week considerably more entertaining than last. Don't get me wrong, I love meeting new people, its just easier when you already know said people and can joke about more from the first day.

This year, I had the better mindset and insentive to wake up earlier whatever/wherever i am waking up to, therefore made it to the 9am prayer meetings, which really set me for the day. Up until recently I found it somewhat uncomfortable praying aloud, as unless I have suffiicient time to think of how to explain what I mean, as I am hopeless at using my words in a verbal context. However, the prayer meetings allowed me to practice and thus I have considerably improved.

I squeezed every last drop of what I could out of the event. I attended numerous seminars on topics from suffering to sex. It has to be said, the relationships seminar was most interesting. As you would expect, the notion of sexual relations outside of a marriage was discouraged, but did not make me feel regretful of anything I have done, or indeed plan to do. I feel bad that I don't feel bad.

The biggest and most significant evening for me personally was the healing evening. For over the past three years I had been suffering with tendon damage to my right thumb, and had severely weakened my ulnar collateral ligament due to repetitively snapping it.

The injury originated from a skiing accident on a dry skii slope, when I failed to perform a parallel turn. My left skii caught on my right and threw me to the ground. In the process, in a feeble attempt to stop myself tumbling down to the base of the decent my thumb was caught in one of the hexagonal holes between the brisles. It was wrenched backwards, ripping and snapping everything besides the bones.
As time went on, my tendons healed. However, where they welded themselves back together with a slight overlap, they had made themselves shorter, reducing motion and making them prone to tear under pressure. As an accidednt prone person, it created a vicious circle, until I had to give up my career as an amateur wicket keeper for the Norfolk Under 15s Cricket Team.
From then on I was unable to perform basic tasks without pain, such as hold a pen properly or open a bottle. I adapted, but continuously grew frustrated with myself. I am passionate about art, and I couldnt draw without my arm being in burning pain if I was drawing for prolonged periods of time. I wasn't going to give up something I love so dearly, so I prayed every day for over a half a year in desperation.
Finally, on the Friday evening, I gave it one last try. One last burning sesnation shot up my entire hand, then it went extremely cold. I opened my eyes. I walked over to Annabel, and held out my hand to her. We played a thumb-war, and I won. I writhed my thumb in every directon - no pain. I reached out for my boyfriends hand and pressed the back of his palm with it tightly, indicating to him what had just happened - and still no pain. I think that was the first time I've ever cried with happieness before. That evening I was also witness to a deaf man being given back his hearing, and one of my best friends giving himself to Christ.

Now I am home again, I have a new.perspective on things. It was one hell of a week, and as a result, I am perfectly content right about now. I am no longer anxious or scared of anything, and relish the idea of the next challenge that is thrust upon me.

Sorry this was an extremely long-winded one.

Signing off with a smile,
Pinchh

Ten somewhat rather convenient things.

Every so often, i dont know about you, but i realise how really utterly privilaged i am to have been born in the western world. As part of the culture, convenience is everywhere. Yes, it's technology based. I love it. I made an appreciative list of my favorites and everything.

1) Google.
This one may be somewhat obvious. Before google (b.g), if one wanted to know something, one had to either walk to the local library and whip out a book, or crack open one beastly-large encyclopedia. Now, you turn on your computer/phone/other smarte-arse device and punch in some keywords, then an overly-large amount of information from across the globe from throught time is bestowed upon you. Magic.

2) Smartphones
It's a computer in my pocket. Admittedly the majority of their battery-lives is abysmal, but oh so wonderfully available whenever i need it

3) Shazam
Hand-in-hand with the above, "Shazam" is an application that you can download onto your smartphone to listen to a snippet of a song, and through a wifi connection tell you what it is, being redicliuously accurate, and it takes a mere few seconds. Brilliant for discovering bands/musicians that have been used in adverts or soundtracks.

4 ) Spotify
After finding the name of a band referenced by a friend or that you have indeed "shazammed", Spotify enables you to find their music easily. The adverts inbetween songs are tedious, but for free it isnt half bad.

5) Microwave cooking.
Ovens? Gas rings? Sod that. I want some pasta, therefore shall empty a sachet into a plastic bowl, add some liquid of sorts, set the time to something under ten minutes, "beep" - done. Minimal effort required.

6) Dishwashers
I hate soggy food. It can even make me want to gag. Shove plates and that in a dishwasher and you dont have to bother with scrubbing at pastery slop from a previous meal. Job done.

7) Money
Again, pretty obvious. Money lets you buy things you want and need. It may be the "route of all evil" but you can at least drive a nice car whilst you're at it.

8) Facebook
Yeah, its time consuming and pointless in some respects, but you can't honestly tell me you haven't used it to stalk someone at somepoint.

9) The postal system
The nearest shop to where i live is four miles away. Via the internet i can order stuff from the comfort of my own home. Also, i can send/receive mail which is rather nice, and postcards are pretty.

10) Cameras
Enables you to capture a memory, beautiful scene, whatever you would like, and be able to share/show it to the world. Just, amazing.

Time keeps running away.

Suddenly the end of my long post-high school summer days are on the horizon. Seriously.. WHAT?!

So anyway, I've been productive. Not my usual "lets-plan-and-do-nothing" productiveness in my mind, nor my "work-hard-at-my-education" productive, i mean my until recent months somewhat neglected form of productive - my "creative-outburst-of-awesome" productive.

You see, at the begining of this summer after i had completed my overly infuriating GCSE examinations, i made a concious desicion to not waste the most possible longest summer holiday of my life in which i have the oppertunity to do (within certain boundaries) whatever i would like with little imput from my parents. Therefore, i've been socializing, planning, creating, exploring, practicing, and generally enjoying the absence of utter boredom my new-found motivation has unlocked.

After my last exam, i was slightly at a lose end. I had spent so long focusing on nothing but trying to do my damned hardest to achive the best results possible, that when they were over i didn't know what to do with myself. Therefore i figured, i would do all the things that i had to sacrifice due to my exams. I've let my mind roam free and it's been brilliant.

I've mentioned before about my dyslexia and my tint glasses. Technically speaking, the glasses are for Meares Irlen Syndrome (of which is easier to refer to as MIS, because abreviating it makes it less real and menacing to me), but this "disability" isn't a disability at all for me. I mean yes, my RGB balance of this very computer screen is 50/55/65 but it causes me to think in an entirely different way to the majority of the population. My mind is physically structured to do so, and one of those ways is through creativity, thus i have been producing depictions of emotions and memories in order to both practice and hopefully improve my skills, but also to draw/paint pretty things i can show people and go "look at the prettyness i made!". I may find it difficult to explain things without being able to have time to find the right adjectives to use or gesticulating with my hands but you need only look at a photograph or painting i have produced to illustrate what i mean, how i feel, or indeed in recent months whom i feel for in that inevitably smushy and pheremone-fuelled way.

That's another thing that came about this summer. I've emotionlly attatched myself to another human being, in a way that both scares me and leads me into more over-thinking, yet fascinates me that i physically have the ability to have these emotions that come with. It's quite funny really - precisely a year ago I met the unfortunate induvidual to now be stuck with me, and back then i was oblivious to the outcome of meeting his aquaintance (at Newday infact). I always knew of him, and wanted to talk to him, but never knew quite.. how. Newday gave the perfect environment and excuse. It went from there really.

Speaking of Newday, 2012's starts THIS MONDAY. Monday eve is also a peak for a beautiful meteor shower. Its predicted it'll rain, which by definition SUCKS, but i'll pray for clear deep blue peppered skies, preferably not "pissing it down".

Apologies for the leangthy post. I just had a lot to say this time. I need to pack.

Here Comes the Sun

I had my first serious exam thismorn. It's fair to say I died inside. As far as English goes, for a dyslexic, I'm pretty tank at it. Give me something to argue for or against and I'll blab my way to an asterisk, and as for creative writing and poetry I have ideas and opinions coming out of my ears. Books? If I'm not reading them for pleasure, I despise them. I swear blind they haven't changed the syllabus in at least fifty years. So, studying two shockingly dull "novels" for two years couldn't get much worse.. Right? Wrong. They expect you to answer two questions for 60% of your total mark, both worth 30 marks, on two of the most painfully generic questions that AQA could think of. It's like they spent five minutes thinking it up so they could all leave the office and go out for drinks. This forced me to have to write down in scrupulous detail every possibility and aspect of the book that could get me the marks I needed to not fail. I doubt I succeeded. After the exam, I resentfully went to graphics revision for an hour, then gave up and ran away to my friends house. I stopped by the garage and bought two magnums, and we layed on her front lawn engorging ourselves, soaking up the unusually warm sunlight considering the past week was all cloud and grey. After re-gaining my faith in humanity, I ambled back to school to sneak on the schoolbus home, to which I was greeted by fellow classmates letting loose with Jack Johnson blasting out the tin-sounding speakers on their mobile devices. It seems that I have not yet accepted the fact that things are only going to get worse in the next few weeks, but it was nice how karma could pick the day back up so I will be slowly eased into exams, stress, and heat. At lest its my birthday on Saturday.

Surreal

I left high school today. I mean, i go back in tomorrow for Celebration Day (all the year 11s run round in fancy dress and eat BBq, weather providing) so i am going back to the building/grounds, but every classroom i left whilst counting down lessons, i couldnt help but think, "maaan, im never going to set foot in this room again..". Bar a few, today's last lessons consisted of throwing paper airplanes, writing in leavers books, and taking many photographs. Many of which i am pulling demonic faces so i didnt have to suffer the embarrasment of trying to smile and a mugshot being captured instead. Might aswell cut out the middle man, right?

It's going to be odd leaving. I mean, i spent 5 years of my life there. One whole third. It's the place where i made the transition from child to young adult, began to find out who i am, and met some amazing people of whom i will never forget. If anyone is reading this who is my classmate, school-friend or other who was envolved in my school-life, i thank you for making it the blessed memory that it will always remain in my mind.

My brother is home. In pain, but home. Bless him.

"Don't panic, but.."

Well today has been a little bundle of horrible supprises now hasn't it?

I woke up to an empty house. It took me half an hour of being awake to realise this, as i am usually the first person awake, however as i routinely went into the kitchen, an ominous note was left for me by my mother.

"Don't panic, but i've had to take Ben to A&E. Get yourself off to school. Love Ma' x."

What was i supposed to do? Father was nowhere to be seen (presumably on a buisness trip or something) and, to my horror, i had to make my own sandwiches for lunch. I sumberged myself into the indie folk of Stornoway to calm me down, and as always, i went to catch the bus.

Fastforward to 4.15pm. I had just said my goodbyes to the wonderful Art Department staff at my school. I handed in my exam project, beaming. I no longer had a reason to set foot in M08 ever again. It was a sad event, but also an almost liberating feeling. I left my home-from-home, and ambled my way to the late bus. Sat down at the back, earphones in, then checked my phone. Three misssed calls from my father, and a voicemail. The first word that came to mind was explicit. The voicemail was crackily, but from what i could gather, my brother had to have an operation of some sorts. Again, explicit words came to mind. Whatever it was for, it went well. But i still burst into tears, to the bemusement of my schoolmates.

Fastforward to arriving home. I still couldn't get my head around it. We were sparring kung fu style only the previous evening. Well, whatever, I have to go up the hospital tonight to see him possibly, if they don't let him out, which they still might. I'm being optamistic. I hate hospitals.