Today

Firstly I want to say this post is insignificant. I would really appriciate it if you could read the post titled "In Memory of Mary Fielding". I just wanted to put today in...

Good things of the day:
1.) The first good thing was waking up. I was extatic when I woke up. I was so relieved.
2.) I got more Omeprazole! (Though I did get a very disturbing leaflet with them...)
3.) I went to Borough Market...
4.) ...and the Tate Modern.
5.) Then I saw 'Chard.
6.) Oooh, and I ate lunch and dinner! Don't I just rock!

Bad things of the day:
1.) Felt very sick most of the day.
2.) The leaflet said I should not consume caffine, alcohol, spicy foods or tomatoes. I live off tomatoes, curry and coffee. Alcohol is always welcome in my view. So, I figure stuff that. I will not change my lifestyle that much just because a bit of paper tells me too.
3.) Didn't have camera in Borough Market and there are some amazing things there- though it's all a bit too expensive for me to be buying anything.

Thing of the day:
I met up with Chard. While yesterday for the cinema I was 50 minutes late (I know, it's shocking), today Mr Chard was TWO WHOLE HOURS LATE!!! So you cannot call me "oh late one" because Chard is worse than I!

Please read In Memory of M.F. It's very important to me at the moment. You may laugh at my silly thoughts if you wish. Goodnight and Merry Christmas! xxx

In Memory of Mary Fielding

Mary Fielding was an ordinary child until the age of seven, when she was raped repeatedly by her father. Mary told her mother and subsequently Mary’s father was sent to jail. The trauma induced from these incidents caused Mary to contract the cranial illness of Dissociative Identity Disorder, also known as Multiple Personality Disorder. Mary’s mother did not believe that her father had raped her and consequently began to have feelings of hatred for Mary. Mary’s mother started beating Mary, until Mary was covered in bruises from head to toe. Her mother continually told Mary she was a ‘liar’ and a ‘bad girl’, until Mary fully believed she was a ‘bad girl’. This physical and verbal abuse prompted Mary’s illness to worsen greatly and Mary was sent to a care unit where she could be treated. However the therapist assigned to Mary became convinced that Mary was pretending to have the illness in order to gain attention. The therapist could not work with Mary and eventually persuaded Mary’s mother to change therapists. On November 6th 1978 Mary was moved to a secure institution in Kent, where she could not be visited, nor removed or transferred without full medical conformation and approval of the home secretary. She lasted eight days before committing suicide. Mary Fielding was only 16 years old.
Mary died on 14th November, 11 years before the day I was born. I never met her but when I learnt her story I was deeply moved. The questions arise: why was Mary allowed to kill herself when she was meant to be in a secure environment? Should people have a choice on their life and death? Why should some people have the authority over others to prevent them taking their lives? Are we saying that the people who believe life is worth living are more important than the people who find life not worth it? What is this prejudice we have that makes us believe this?
Mary Fielding is a fictional character. All references to the illness Dissociative Identity Disorder, although well researched, may be incorrect.

Thought of the day.

Peter Pan once said, "To die will be a great adventure."
I could not agree more. To die will be a very great adventure, but I think to live may be a greater one. Much greater.

Thing on the Day (this IS different to event of the day) My titles are very accurate.

Thing of the day: the shear amount of food I have eaten. I ate breakfast and lunch and dinner. I consumed no coffee (though I was forced to buy a 10p sweet and consum quickly in order to reach home awake). No alcohol was consumed. In fact the only drug (I use the term loosely) I have absorbed today (other than my gorgeous omeprazole) were hugs, which I admit I am aditted to- I get cravings! Hope everyone is enjoying their half terms! xxx

Event of the day

I have just one worth saying. Others are either inconsiquential (word of the day) or ugly (not being look-ist here, just using the term). So....

My birthday is the 14th November. (The day after the day we all get back from the Banquet- oh the excitement. hehe...) But my brother, Henry (aged 13), decided to buy me a real birthday present this year (normally I get smarties-if I'm lucky. He spent four years saying he'd given me a necklace when I was 7 and didn't deserve another present yet!). And when he brought me a present he really did! (It's amazing- I'm so excited!) I am now (well I will be) the proud owner of a *drumroll* LIGHTSABRE! Yes! It is true! It's a beauty- changable colour (red/blue), makes all the correct "fizz" and "buzzz" noises, touch sensitive (*drools*) and all for a tony sum of £20! (Which I think is a lot of money, though Dave disagreed.) I know that I probably won't get another birthday present for many years so I am going to treasure this with great care and brilliance-at-treasuring. But yeah, that's my event of the day.

Oh! I also wrote a letter. I intend on sending it tomorrow. I think it's brilliant so you better treasure it when you get it! I spent ... minutes ... *shrug* ... writing it and it deserves to be read. (Well, it doesn't but I'd appriciate it if you did read it.)

*smiley* (yeah, it's real) xxx

Poems and a Small nb

I couldn't sleep last night because my mind was on overdrive. Normally this is a terrible thing because my mind is not very nice. BUT last night he was being (dare I say it) kinda creative (*sigh of relief at not being attacked for using this word...yet!*) and everytime I shut my eyes words would fall from the ceiling and hit me. I wrote a few of them down to stop the flow. They're all works in progress but I was wondering (as ya do) if anybody felt like poking them a bit for me (unless you're all watching StarWars, which is vital to your life). *clears throat* Here goes:

I am in a lot of pain.

My eyes are too weary to weep,

But outside

The clouds cry for me.

Purple bruises cover the sky,

Bathed in the cool moonlight.

I sigh, stars falling.

The night ticks by and I

Wait for the sun to shine again.

It is already tomorrow

But I know the past is late.

(That was the first one I wrote. Personally I think it's rubbish except for the last two lines, but they don't seem to make sense anymore. They did last night. I like the "illiteration" in the first four lines, but I think the content is rubbish. Thoughts please!)

Fractured bubbles lie broken at her feet.

If the world were an orange...

But the world is not an orange.

A cloud of mist descends.

A face sticks out. Shining.

Shattered thoughts drift incoherant.

Youth lingers one more day.

A pause. Lightning.

Youth dies hard when you're young with feeling.

I would never desert you.

No matter what hellhole you decide to place your thoughts in.

The children are screaming.

I watch you sleeping,

Apparently peaceful

Though conflict rages behind closed eyes.

(I don't know what to say about that one. It's nowhere near finished but there are some aspects which I like - the phrase "Youth dies hard when you're young with feeling" has been floating round my head a few weeks now and I like it. I'm not sure if I put it in the right place though? Thought please?)

The hole is deep.

The child is sinking.

A feather flutters in the wind.

The world is dark.

The child is sleeping.

Fear caresses a lonely sod.

Love runs as tears drip.

A daisy falls, beaten.

The world was too strong.

Life was too much to take.

(Yeah. I don't know. If you have any thoughts could you just tell me what's good, what's bad? So I didn't stay up all night in vain.)

I'm not romantic.

I'm young and I'm foolish.

You call me cute.

I call me plain.

K's not for Knitting.

Life won't be endless.

P is for Parrots.

U is for Rain.

(I might be onto something there but I don't know what. I'm very tired now. Maybe I should eat some breakfast...)

Small nb/

I just want to apologise to anybody who read the "I'm Sorry" post. It was wrong of me to write it and I hope nobody read it. Hugs and smiles. Emmie

Vague recollections

Last night I watched two football matches. One I watched in person, in the present day (though it is the past now) Queen's Park Rangers vs Plymouth Argyle. It was a one-all-draw. I was content because we were losing and then we scored. A draw is better than a lose (Crystal Palace lost, so Steve can't tease me this week!). The other match I watched I did watch in person once; roughly 13 hours, 11 minutes, 1 week, 6 days, 7 months and 14 years before. But I was mini then and I think I slept through most of it. The second match I watched was "England" vs "The Rest Of The World". (My dad and uncle were in "England". My godfather and a load of people I know were in "The Rest Of The World". It was so funny.) There was a slightly worrying shot of baby-me sitting in my pushchair in the middle of all these 30-odd-aged men changing! No wonder I have strange thoughts....

I have lots of lines of poetry in my head, but I can't get them to fit together. If I ever manage it I will put it down here for you all to marvel at. (Haha. Jokes!)

Yesterday Soti came round and we made chocolate fudge. It is actually a near-success. I took a lot of photos but have so far failed at loading them onto the computer. (I'm not good at computers...and I've lost the program I need to put the photos on so it's all a bit confusing.)

Today I plan on drinking a lot of coffee and introducing Rose to Star Wars- which she has somehow missed for the past 17 (nearly 18!!!) years of her life. Yes, I hear your gasps of shock and horror. I cried when I found out. Poor girl. She hasn't lived yet!

Other developments in my titchy little world...Luke's attempt at beating Dave's card triangle failed...despite using blu-tac...we are attempting to rebuild it. If all is successful it will be 13 thingies high. So *sticks tongue out* Dave!

*shivers* I'm going to finish drinking this forgotten cup of coffee (I've just remembered why it tastes weird. I put coffee and cocoa in the cup...no sugar...interesting...*sigh*)

Potatoes! Icecream! Squirrels! Fairy cakes! (which is the odd one out?)

(Answer: none of the above. All were big factors in the day's adventuring.)

So, I have had a most interesting day today. Rose arrived. I scared her by saying hello from above (there is a window above the front door-good for scaring people!) and let her in, though the door...not the window. I set about producing lunch (I had promised her) and proving to her my culinary wizardary. Due to some unfortunate events (me deciding to cook being the main one) we ate fried poatoes and carrot. It was ... interesting. Edible, so I proved my worth. :) Then we went downstairs and she met my gorgeous Cake (the hamster). He was loved all round. After that we decided to go out on the common, as it was such a lovely day. Icecream was brought and we tottered off to the daisy hill, which was sadly devoid of daisies (due to the time of year). We sat on some stratigicly placed logs and began to eat our icecream. When suddenly we were visited by a most hansome little squirrel. He came up to us and sniffed. So Rose promptly gave him an icecream lid and he joined our party. He seemed to like the ice cream very much and was provided with another lid. After finishing this he ate little bits of our icecreams until attacked by a bunch of screaming children. But this squirrel came unbeievably close to us! We named him 'Mr Rose-Emmie' and he became a much-loved part of our icecream picnic society. Then we went back to my house and made fairy cakes! The recipe was a little off because we did it from my memory- and we all know that's not all too good. Then, once the cakes were cooked we made icing! And when we made icing we made lots of icing! Six different colours! All bright and beautiful! It was fantabulous! (If I get round to it before they're all eaten I will take a picture and find out how to load it on.) Once everything was cool and dry, and we'd done the washing up (lots of it too- but brothers helped), we had a civilised tea and cakes. Highly enjoyable. Then it was sadly time for Rose to go. So I took her home (she needs to be looked after). But then I had to walk home in the dark all on my own and it was a little bit scary. (Especially cos someone was murdered in the area just 2 days ago. So I was being very alert and tense. I walked along and I thought about some lovely people and their brilliant hugging abilities. It cheered me up a bit. But not as much as seeing them. . .

Pirates! (a dream)

There is a pirate ship on the horizon. Its sails are a light brown and fully out. It looks beautiful in the sparkling green sea. On board a man with a marvellous red coat and a brilliant black beard is steering. Children (around the age of 12) wash the deck with mops and buckets. They are all deeply tanned with long, tangled hair. One boy's mess of blond hair stands out, shining in the bright sunlight. Fat sailors wander amoungst the children, whipping any they think are washing too slow. One sailor sits on top of a barrel of rum, chewing tobacco. He spits it onto the floor and a child runs quickly to clean it up.
Dinner time. Two boys struggle under the weight of a huge pot of stew. They walk along the rows of men. A girl dishes the stew into the mens' bowls, which are wooden with initials engraved on the bottom. The captain, the man who had been steering, is not present. Neither are the children. The captain is alone in his private chamber. Children serve him a roast duck with all the trimmings and large glasses of red wine. He eats greedily in the candle light. Once the men have eaten the children file into the room and sit quietly on the benches. When all the men have left the children start to chatter and laugh. They eat stale bread, some cheese and an apple each. After they've eaten their rations and quietened down a bit the blond boy stands on the table and all falls quiet. They creep closer and whisper together.
Another day. The ship is tied to a dock. The sailor-men are out at a pub. The children have been left to guard the boat, some sent to get supplies. They all look nervous and excited. Something is up.

[the rest is a bit hazy so please forgive me for any inaccuracies]

There is a small rowing boat filled with soft toys tied to the side of the ship. The sailors return to the ship, some children following them carrying barrels of rum and caskets of food. The ship sets sail. A scrawny girl tells the captain that there is a present for him, tied to the side of the ship. The captain, excitedly, looks down and sees the boat of toys. He gets angry and throws a bone at the boat. It hits it and the boat shudders angrily. The captain rolls his eyes and walks off.

[something happens]

Chard (big Chard- the Chard you and I know) leaps out of the boat from underneath the toys. He jumps up to the ship and starts yelling stuff.

[something happens]

Chard is fighting the captain. He is the blond boy grown up. All the children fight the sailors and there is lots of sword clanging and swashbuckling. The sun beats down on them all and the sailors get tired but the children fight on. Soon all the sailors have been thrown over board, except the captain who is saved to walk the plank once the children have built one. Chard, who is now the captain, gives the captainhood to little-Chard (the blond boy), who grins a huge grin and starts to sing the star wars theme tune. Little-Chard says the girl who was dishing out stew is the First Mate and she is happy too. Then big Chard says, "I have to go now." and vanishes into thin air. The children pirates clap and sail off into the sunset, playing with the toys.

[I wake up and go and have a bubble-bath.Very fun!]

Letters.

I have written some letters. I have some stamps. I can't promise I will be able to put the two together until Monday at least. It's very very hard...

I wanna live in the Otrix...and be a pirate when I grow up! Yay!!!

I’m sitting here chewing tentatively on an apple. I’m wearing jeans and a stripy black and white top. While grey is a lovely colour, I have no grey tops long enough to wear today.
Since I last blogged tonnes of stuff has happened. I know it has because it says so on my calendar. But I can’t remember much of it so I’m only going to put down my memories.
Thursday 29th September (ages ago!):
I went to the hospital in aim of getting fixed – my stomach is messed up. Well, I waited for a bit in the waiting room. They weighed and measured me. (I am 5’1”! Hear that- over five foot!) Then I saw the doctor and we talked a bit and she decided we were getting nowhere and to start again. So I was guided through to the blood room and another nurse took some of my blood (4 vials- it felt like a lot). I’ve got to say I think I enjoyed that bit the most. I love the colour of blood. It’s beautiful.
Then they gave me some lovely little pills which are meant to stop it hurting (they work most of the time!) and sent me off to school. I don’t know when the next appointment will be. I s’pose it will be when they’ve got the results back.
Saturday 1st October:
I’d babysat two lovely boys in Blackheath the night before and (due to their parents’ habit of getting back in the early hours of the morning completely hammered) I stayed the night. Thus waking up in Blackheath.
I got dressed in my gorgeous school uniform and zoomed off to school to show parents and their diddy year sixes around. Ate lots of kitkats- good breakfast!
After that I went home and got changed, etc. I also made an omelette. (Well, I would call it an omelette…I’m not sure if anyone else would.)
Next I saw Steve the Brilliant One and we ate chips and wandered around the common and then wandered around my house, admiring the hamster. (That’s all there is to admire in my house, except my brothers’ guitars. But they were kind of hidden behind piles of mess.)
That was a good day. Except later on I was babysitting (I was busy that week.) for gorgeous Sabs, Dylan and Lola and they were all in bed. I was all alone. I got very scared, very paranoid, very panicky. I hid, shaking, in the corner under a blanket with the TV on and a book and I texted Richard from Kent (‘Chard to you lot) who kindly helped me calm down. That was weird. I was so scared.
Then there was the week, which was pretty uneventful except for the obvious Scottish dancing (oh so swirly) and Choir.
This Sunday – Sunday 9th October:
I went to grey Lewis’ birthday not-party and had a lovely time. There were so many gorgeous people there, all very nice and also very witty. Otis made a special appearance and was admired by all. He was in his human costume at the time. His disguise did not fool me for one moment! (Well maybe one…but just one!)
I must say very big congratulations to Lewis for reaching the grand old age of 18 and for throwing such a splendid not-party.
And that’s it - all that I can remember from the past two weeks. I also wrote an English essay at some point, which I was very proud of…and I had a maths test today, which actually went ok. I was hugely surprised.
PS- Steve, I wish to have my sock back at some point in the near future. Cheers.