What do you do with a drunken sailor?
What do you do with a drunken sailor
Early in the morning?
Really, I’m unsure. but to be honest, if you’re asking me that question, the first thing / would ask is, “What are you doing with a drunken sailor at early hours in the morning?” And the second thing I would say is, “Actually, on second thoughts, please don’t answer that question.”
That seems like a weird song to start a post off with… and you’re right. It is weird.
And likewise was my day.
I can’t seem to properly sum up my day, honestly. I mean, look at the fact that I’m writing this post at quarter to 11 at night; it is WAY past my bedtime. (Don’t judge me, every Queen needs some intense beauty sleep… Well, other than Beyonce I guess). And I’m literally in my bed, in my pyjamas and everything. Just typing on my blog.
And why? Because I am the best procrastinator (is that a profession? Even if it was though, I probably wouldn’t even get round to applying for it) in the world. I managed to tidy out my ENTIRE wardrobe, reorganize every drawer and sort out my whole desk… But have not got a single SECOND of revision done. (Well, I’m not sure that’s strictly true, I mean, I have done about 6 seconds in total of revision). Somebody talk about priorities!
So. I’ve decided to write on my blog because it seems to be a way of escape and expressing my feelings other than ranting down the phone to a friend, talking at eighty miles a minute. And yes, I’m slightly tired. And yes, my back and my fingers and my entire body aches. But I’m also getting more and more stressed about the fact that the exam date is looming closer and closer, when all I want to do is run away from it.
And eat some apples. (Not even in a weird way, but since I got my braces off, I’ve been obsessed with eating apples! Lucky me, right?) The juicy kind, delicious ones. Shiny red ones and the sweet, crisp ones which make a loud crunching noise when you bite them.
I can’t believe I’m up at 22:51 fantasizing about eating apples. It probably sounds very… weird, but it isn’t even a euphemism.
Not to mention that I am VERY confused. Is there a way to, like, unwind all your feelings? And separate them all and untangle them, so I can understand them! Sometimes, it’s terrifying how little I understand myself. I don’t know what I want and when I think I want something, it seems like I don’t… I’m very weird like that. But things happen and then you think, “Do I…?” and then something else happens and that feeling is very quickly squashed, or smothered by other more intense feelings, like annoyance, like anger, like bad moods, and then POOF! Just like that, it’s gone.
I’m in no rush to try to understand myself anyway. God willing, I have 50 to 70 more years to figure myself out, and even then I’m pretty sure others will understand me more than I do. What makes me tick? I’m not sure.
I think that it’s a combination of different things. I really do think that my friendships and relationships help to define who I am, as in the value and esteem I hold myself in. I also think that my work and my achievements play a big role in everything I do. There are a number of other things, like my writing, like school, like my personal hobbies, which I think are all PARTS of what makes me tick, but I don’t think I can highlight any one thing which I can say, without which I would not be able to survive…
One thing I know for sure though; everything I do has an emotional reason behind it. I am emotionally attached to everything and there is nothing I am able to do emotionally detached and unbiased. Nearly everything I do has a reason. I wrote a poem for a reason, be it because of inspiration or a personal experience. I sent a text for a reason, I read that book for a reason, I wore this top for a reason… and the list goes on and on. And it sounds a bit stupid, of course I don’t pore over my drawers in the morning and think “Hmmm, now which shirt will I wear today? Maybe I’ll be slightly rebellious and wear the crisp white one? Or will I wear my crumpled white one?” Not everything I do is to make a statement, but any of my friends can tell you that I am one emotional chick.
I’m starting to feel a bit like Cinderella. It’s 23:03 and I’m still typing away like a madwoman, raging at my keys. (Poor keyboard, it’s not your fault you have to put up with a mistress so cruel, I’m sorry…) I’m just waiting for the moment, any time now, when I turn back into a less-than-average girl, going about her ordinary life after she’s just danced with her prince. No dancing for me unfortunately, but I’m still working on the prince/King thing. (If you’d like to read more about that whole thing, then totally check out my other page, My Ramblings, and scroll down to ‘A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes’… Prepare to have your heart ripped out, ‘cos mine was, and I wrote it!) Damn, I type pretty fast.
My whole day has been a bit of a blur. I’ve been in a bad mood since this morning, I’m a bit of a pooey person, so I sometimes take it out on my friends, which is entirely unfair (So I apologise to you Babs, Ewnte and Susanna!) but it’s kind of as if the reality is just weighing down on me now.
The Summer Term is almost here now. And here I am, up at 23:07, when really I should be in bed sleeping. I sincerely hope that neither my mum or dad wake up and catch me in here. Initially, I was doing homework. I had to write something on my group blog for my drama project at school, and then I was going to start learning my Spanish paragraphs (yes, I finally wrote them!) but I thought, ugh can’t be bothered. Asi que, estoy aqui. (And so, here I am).
I probably won’t be doing this again anytime soon though. It’s all well and good now, but in the morning I’m going to be like a zombie. I have a crapload of work to finish off, I’m DEFINITELY going to fail my drama writing exam, and I’ve done no revision for any other subjects other than English. I should probably – no, need to – sign up for those classes after school. There’s supposed to be a pot of gold at the end of every rainbow, right?
Wrong. First of all, this is a pretty sucky rainbow. Rainbows are supposed to be pretty and sparkling and multicoloured, but this ‘rainbow’ is pretty pathetic. And the pot of gold at the end isn’t even a pot of gold, it’s just a piece of paper with some letters on it. Some very important, life-altering letters, however.
Well, let’s just hope those letters are all A’s and A*’s.
Here’s a joke before I go:
Q: Why was six afraid of seven?
A: It wasn’t. Numbers are not sentient beings, and therefore incapable of feeling emotions.
I’m great at killing moods. Especially at *glances at clock time* 23:14 at night. I’d just like to think I’m funnier at times when my thoughts are not coherent. (DISCLAIMER: I am not an alcoholic, I just really need to sleep)
Goodnight everyone, and LOL to all those of you who are still up reading this. Probably my Elms buddies… Kisses.