random

The Devil ReincarnatedĀ 


Biscoff spread is the devil reincarnated into this beautiful, sinful, luxurious paste of mouth watering proportions that I can’t get enough of. 

Why? God, why? 

Okay, this is obviously a post about absolutely nothing but my addiction to something so tasteful that I personally have no self-control over. Given, a post about nothing is absolutely needed after the recent show of just pure sadness and lethargy I’ve been dispelling from my heart. I know some may be disappointed but I think it’s about bloody time I do something lighthearted. 
Anyway, back to my heartache of biscoff. 

It’s just so easy to scoff down! Lord help me if I ever get my restless hands on a full jar it because it will be the honest end of me! An entire jar full will easily smooth its way down my esophagus, hit the acid in my stomach, dissipate its madness into my bloodstream and cling on to the walls of my blood vessels for dear life.

All ending in a sudden (but fatal) heart attack. 

And you know what? 

I wouldn’t even care because I would be so happy to have eaten my jar of biscoff in one gulp. There will be just sheer bliss slapped onto my face, with a heavy set jaw and ecstasy lifting away each eyebrow from my glazed honey doe eyes filled with amazement. 

This is what biscoff does to you. Allows you to enter a world of pure beauty and cruelty at the same time. So, proceed at your caution. 

Or, just do whatever you want. 

I’m quickly finding that the world we live in is already as sinful and as beautiful. And there is no force of will that can go against it. 
Nakedstreetkid out xx 

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99p is where the heart is

I guess that writing my series ‘Moments’ has been strangely liberating for me. It has allowed me to greater explore my writing style and use of description to paint a fairly ordinary scene.

I really enjoyed that.

To be completely honest, I was inspired my the Great and Wonderful novel by Julian Gough, ‘Juno and Juliet’. One of my all time favourite books. Mainly because it has everything that I have wanted it a novel and far more than what I would have expected that I found in Poundland. It was so gosh darn amazing. It is so gosh darn amazing.

To be honest though, I’ve only read it front to back about 3 times in the last six or seven years. Mind you, I’ve looked back at my favourite parts quite a few times over the years, or I start from a certain point in the book and read it to the end. I love it.

I just love it.

And I don’t think many can understand my love for such a book. So, if you ever get the chance to read it, I would implore you, go ahead and read it. It would be worth every penny.

Nakedstreetkid out xx

moments

Moments: The Library

I’m in the library and I’m writing.

The pitter patter of the rain drumming throughout is distracting and I have to place my headphones in my ears in order to ignore it. Not that I’m playing any music as that would be equally distracting. You see, I had the tendency to analyse a song’s lyrics and or instrumental abilities quite thoroughly. No, I’m using my headphones as something to dampen the sound. And it does a good job until the rain intensifies and becomes an all disastrous force of nature against the windows of the library.

It’s a good thing I’m inside and the rain is out.

I evacuate my headphones from my ears as there is no longer a need for them. As I do so people begin to crawl into the library, bringing their chatter and whispers with them.

I guess I won’t be able to get as much work as I need to done today. No matter, that is why I have a book in my bag, just in case of small emergencies similar to this one.

I stare dimly at my copy of Juno and Juliet and smile. The cover, torn and ripped, stares unashamedly back at me. The light blue of the cover has been washed away of even more of it’s colour until it is has become a stale, powdery white. I wish I could say that it is in this state because it has been following me around for years like a much loved blanket, but that would be a lie. Despite loving it with a deep passion, the rips on the cover were not made by me, but made by a younger version of what I am now. A disastrous tyrant who somehow believed that in order to show your love for something it must show signs of wear. So, in a quick passion to do, this said tyrant fabricated a few of her own to show just how much she loved the novel.

Stupid. That was stupid.

Because now I’m left with a book that I’m not quite sure how to look after. I don’t want to tape it back together because I’m worried that it would destroy the already thinning cover. And I don’t want to protect it with a rain cover because there is still a part of me that believes that the scruffiness – for lack of a better word – shows just how much I love the book.

Stupid. Just stupid.

But, what can I say?

I guess I’m just a hopeless romantic.

moments

Moments: A Journey on the Outside

The clicking and groaning of the train distracted me periodically from the hushed whispers being spoken by the two ladies sitting opposite me.

Even though I shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, I couldn’t help myself. It didn’t matter anyway, I didn’t understand them. It took me a while to realise that they were speaking some form of broken spanish. And even when I did figure it out, they had noticed me looking and had decided to speak wholly in Spanish from that point on. Not that I minded, because I was half sure they were talking about what I was wearing. A skirt with a single cardigan, boots and a body warmer. I knew my mother would be in my face, giving me a right earful when she saw me dressed for warmer weather, but I couldn’t care less. Even though I knew I should as it was pushing a measly 4 degrees Celsius that day in London and I wouldn’t be too happy in an hour or two. But I would get over it soon enough.

Anyway, we had arrived at the last stop and it was time for me to get off, so I could stop worrying about what I was wearing being analysed in Spanish.

My phone buzzed twice with the arrival of a new message, it read:

From: Mama
Subject: (there was none)
“G, you don’t need to come, it’s been sorted out.”

Hm, well, I wish she had told me that before I had left the comfort of my bed quite hastily for the crippling cold of the streets. And yes, I’ll admit it now, my finger and face – if nothing else – were popsicles of ice by that point. A part of me wished that I’d had a small temper tantrum, refusing to leave home to help her, that way I wouldn’t have left so soon and would have saved myself the trouble of leaving in the first place.

I quickly typed a reply back to her, mentioning none of my dismay and accenting it with two ‘x’s’ before sending it. I looked around, trying to figure out what I wanted to do. Glancing up, I saw the signs directing me to the Central Line, so, I walked up the stairs at Stratford Station. I might as well take the train to the library if I’m out.

An instant later her reply arrived with a ping and a vibration on my phone.

From: Mama
Subject: (again, none)
“Love you G, God bless you”

I guess that’s mum in a nutshell because you can’t be annoyed at her when she says things like that. I typed a reply, just as quickly:

From: Gina
Subject: (none)
“Love you too, Ma. Take care! šŸ™‚ xox”

And with that, I made my way onto the Central line, getting off at my designated station.

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The Good Side of 2015

This year in particular has been filled to brim with equal parts of bad and good.

Like Ying and Yang or just a simple karma-like charm, I have had moments where the year has been unbearable, but also moments where the shine of the world has protruded through the ever-present darkness. So, this post is to that, to highlight all of that.

Put simply, this year has most certainly been a year of friendship.

Last December, I was in a position of fear. I was half-way through my final year of A-levels and I had just submitted my personal statement and waiting for replies. Almost not expecting any. But then, for the first time since I had gotten there, I had made a group of substantial friendships in my school. Friendships which lasted into 2015. And I know that sounds cheesy, but hear me out.

These group of friends have been life-savers in more ways than one. They have been people I have talked to, people who have expanded my mind and the world outside it. I have had friends who have had differing opinions, so different that it has shown me many different ways of living. It has shown me so many different ways to still be myself while undergoing change.

That was the former half of 2015. The latter half? Well, I got a bleeding job. Which I am over the moon about. And from that, I was able to meet all these different people who are both crazy and loving, funny and fabulous, talented and eye-opening. They have made the latter half of this year really fantastic.

But someone who has made it all the more worthwhile is my gorgeous and beautiful niece. During the former half of 2015 I feared that I may never actually see her due to custodial issues between my brother and her mother. But after much crying, many observed visits and a court case, I now have the luxury of seeing her throughout the week. And even though I have a hard time accepting that I did not go into university, if I had, I would never have been able to see my niece grow up. So, in a way, not going to university was a god send.

Overall, 2015 has been quite the year for me.

A lot has happened this year, and although some has been bad, there has also been a lot of good. And that is what matters.

That is what matters.

Have a fantastic New Years Eve and I’ll see you in 2016.

Have a good one, guys.

Nakedstreetkid out x

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Contemplating the misery of university

I was thinking of going travelling next year. Well, the latter half of next year, when the new academic year starts.

I don’t think I can quite handle university yet, so I thought I would skip it for another year.

I have a lot to learn about the world that I just haven’t learnt. I’m not nearly as stable as I would like to be mentally. Actually, I am quite all over the place and there are days where I can barely function like a human being because I am so exhausted with life. Or, there are days when all I can do is look ahead at the gaping hole that is my future and how I shrink in comparison does is not an appealing feeling.

I say this all as someone who is contemplating not going to university. So, I am unsure.

You see, we are told from very young ages that is our destiny.

We go through Primary School being asked, what do you want to do in the future. And soon enough, our answer transform from the laid back response of astronauts and firemen to an elated eleven year old screaming university.

And then you have secondary school, same question is asked, but that elation diminishes into a small fear. Because no one knows what they want to do, and by the time you finish your Secondary School career, your heart is experiencing small palpitations because you think you’ve chosen what you want to do, but you’re still unsure.

And finally, you’ve made it to sixth form/college and you’re in your final year and the same question is asked “What do you want to do?” But this time, louder, as if someone is screaming right through your eardrums and to the pre-frontal cortex of your brain. And it’s like your whole world is defined on it, like once you get there, there is either a ladder hanging 2 feet from the cliffs edge attached to the steps of university. Or a gorge below you, where you must step off the cliff in order to reach the rich treasures that self-determination gets you when you decide to build your own ladder to reach the top.

It’s funny, because no one tells you about that horrendous fall you must endure. They are too busy preparing you for the bright lights of university. Which I still want to go to. Just not yet.

Not yet.

The question is, is six months enough for me to feel fulfilled? I don’t know.

Nakedstreetkid out x

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Bearable Boredom

I have memories in that school. Things I remember doing. People I remember spending time with. And even though I hated it there and really couldn’t wait to leave, the people… It was the people that made it bearable. Made going through the days easier.

I miss them. They were all so amazing.

Nakedstreetkid out x