Oh Baby, When They Made Me, They Broke The Mold.

I want everything to change and stay the same

That line is from (Coffee's for closers)- Fall Out Boy and it kinda describes how my mind is working at the minute. I'm in this funk, and I can't really explain it- certainly not in vigorous detail, maybe a mumbled rambling of incoherent words.

I will never believe in anything again

Honestly, I keep telling myself this year is going to be different, this is going to be the year to take, make and intensify. I didn't tell myself that last year at all, because I was also in a funk then, though one of an entirely different nature. Last year, I wasn't really feeling anything.

Girls used to follow me around, then I got cold.

I don't even know why I'm blogging. Shit blog. Someone explain things to me.

Unicorns And Kids Are Really Demons In Disguise.

I'm in this weird half happy, half panicked place at the moment. I don't know why, but I'm not really liking it at all. It's like I need breathing space or something? Or maybe I have too much of that.

I had the strangest dream on Friday night. Keep in mind, I was pretty hammered going to sleep...

I was in a play, and there was two guys playing Italian mobsters. But when I was in the wings, they started threatening me and I had to do this task or they were going to kill everyone. Next thing I know, I'm on a horse, galloping through fields and jumping over fences towards this lake to find a unicorn. And Sinead is worried I won't make it, so follows me (on a horse too) and so is my dad, and he follows me (in his car). And I'm in a graveyard, jumping over graves, when I reach the pond. And the unicorn is cantering off. I look to my right, and there is this little blonde girl, with red eyes. She's standing beside two dead kids, blood all over her and she's grinning. But then my dad catches up with me and gets out of the car, and her eyes turn blue and she starts crying. So he takes me and her home, and we adopt her. There's two shops in my house too, no idea how that had any relevance. And I keep seeing her kill children, but my mam won't believe me, and next thing she's staring at me, demonic and the like, and trying to kill me.

That's pretty much when I woke up. Fucking weird.

It's A New Dawn, It's A New Day.

Now I've got no heart left to ache.

2010 ended on a weird note. I spoke to my ex on the phone while he drunkenly walked around his friend's castle in his pajamas and wondered should he get more beer. He threw out a comment about it being a two-way street, and he might be making fuck all effort, but I was making none. It sounded like a very old, very familiar argument between myself and him.

My brother was home, as was my sister (though that is nothing new). I saw him a little bit, but I guess that is just how it works. We all miss him, we all want to spend time with him. So in the end, there's only a little bit of time. It's kind of weird, you know? To have known someone your entire life but at the same time, not really know them.

Here I am again, trying to relearn how to breathe.

On New Year's Eve, I headed out to the Store with the Clodagh one. The one thing that is guaranteed when Clodagh and I head out together, is that we will get very drunk and we will do stupid, hilarious, memorable things.

That night was no different. First of all, we arrived early so no one we knew was about yet. There was also no seats. I spotted a bench with enough room for two of us to squeeze in should I be able to convince the lads around that table to let us. Which I did, of course. That table also scored us a few free pints, and Clodagh and I (accidentally) letting on that we were teachers. Which was about the time we found out those lads were late twenties-thirties. Lovely guys, but I decided wandering outside to where (now) all my friends were might be an idea.

I gave Ronan his Christmas present (Battenburg cake), so if he ever whines about that again, I'm pretty sure I can slap him. Excellent.

Frank was pretty gone by the time I was talking to him. Especially after Ronan explained the bad bad situation, which involved Frank and a forbidden girl. Out of bounds. I still have to kick his ass.

Some weirdly unexpected outcomes came out of that night too. One came about pretty much due to Frank pestering me to get some confidence in the previous days, which led to me biting the bullet. I'm pretty happy about that, but whatever.

Clodagh disappeared (actually, it was probably me who disappeared... I always disappear) but I found her again, touching John's face as she does. When we walked to the taxi, she took off her heels. She seems to do that a lot when she's drunk.

It was a good night anyway, despite my horrible disappointment with Francis Roddy.

Life is fine, no matter how hard you fight.

New year's resolutions... Well I've only got one; stop overthinking. Not as Clodagh suggested, "Don't think at all"- that always lands me in trouble. Maybe if I stop overthinking every little thing, I won't be so paranoid about just about everything.

You're a beast in a woman's frame.

Oh, I had a really weird dream to the other night. It involved me sprinting all over town, trying to get away from a disabled muslim, who was trying to ask me out, while I screamed "I WILL NEVER COMMIT."

So I guess I still have my issues then.

Confusing Thoughts and Childhood Horrors.

New developments are happening. Actually, probably not-and I don't entirely know if I want them too, but I kind of do and it's all just a big ball of confusion, to be quite honest. I don't understand myself about it at all.

When I was little, my sister used to play loads of tricks on me. She told me my mam was a troll. You know, like one of those mad ones with the standing up hair? And she told me she only came out at night, and I used to be terrified. She told me she had put spiders in my bed, and she told me when I fell asleep, she'd carry me out to the chicken house and leave me there. She told me that there was monsters under my bed; I still hate walking across the room in the dark. I've perfected this sort of ninja move, when I'm about a foot or two away from the bed, I jump and I land in the middle of my bed all crouched over. I couldn't do it if it wasn't dark. It's fear, you see. Adrenaline and all that.

I was a pretty scaredy cat child as a result, though only at night. Not during the day, heavens no. You can't be scared after yourself and your childhood friends climb into Blackberry Forest to collect blackberries (I don't even eat them) and one of the boys points out the cow staring at us in the same field (Blackberry forest was a field that consisted of about 3 trees and a blackberry bush) was actually a bull. I could also run a lot faster back in those days.

Now, I'm still a bit scared when it comes to certain things. Such as, the tap that magically turned itself on today. And the weird noises outside at night.

But, the stuff I was scared off back then is so juvenile now. I had a vast imagination back then, so I could pretty much conjure up demons from the shadows. But now I still have a vast imagination, but it's not demons I conjure up. It's reality.

Online Vs Real Life.

Today has been a bit of a waste of a day. It's largely consisted of eating, watching Merlin (Not that that is a waste!) and watching my mother act like we're all going to die slow, horrible deaths due to the Budget.

I could have spent today writing, or studying, or doing something productive that is expected of a Leaving Cert student. But no, I sat on my arse and twiddled my thumbs.

Sometimes I wonder if my persona on the Internet- being the mad Twitter addict that I am- is totally opposite to my real life persona. Like not just with the occasional mystery person I tweet (You guys make me feel popular) but with people I actually know.

Of course, being as paranoid as I am, I then start frantically wondering; what if I'm a disappointment in person? Like, I'm not very well versed in tact, and I tend to be blunt and to the point about things. I'd like to think it was a good trait to have; a bit of honesty, but obviously that wouldn't satisfy everyone.

Not to mention I love a good argument. Not real "You're tacky and I hate you" arguments, more little mess fights. Over silly things, and both parties know it's not serious. I don't think I always manage to get that across though.

I'll stop blabbering on now.

Over and out,
Ri. x

Things I'm Demanding Of You.

It's your lucky day, guys. I've decided to be bossy and DEMAND things of my readers. Oh dearie me, what a horrible blogger I must be.

First things first then. Lets get down to business and all that. This is a band I've discovered (throu

gh Rob repeatedly telling me to remember to listen to them, and making me take them down in my phone so I wouldn't forget again)... (and by forget I mean, procrastinate). They are called The Morning Benders and this is one of my favourite songs by them, "Waiting for a War." I'm in love with the intro. If it was a person, I would marry/form a civil partnership with it, and have piles of musical sprogs- hypothetically, of course, because I don't fancy pushing little gremlins out of me, thanks. So your job is very simple; Listen to them. Look, I even helpfully posted them on my blog. WOO ME!

My next very important matter of business is a tv show I'm not totally obsessed with. You'll notice that over time, dear readers, I obsess a lot with bands and tv shows. Good examples of these are Taking Back Sunday and Doctor Who.

So this tv show is called Merlin, and funnily enough... It's about Merlin. I'm working with the assumption everyone knows the jist of Merlin the Sorcerer and King Arthur, Knights of The Round Table, Lady of the Lake and so on...

It had, admittedly, taken quite a few liberations; Merlin is the same age as Arthur in it, Arthur's birth history isn't in sync with the old legends, so on... but it's still pretty awesome. It shows Merlin and Arthur forming a friendship, Morganna turning into the bitch that she is, the whole Guinevere and Arthur deal. Trust me on this one. Watch it.

Also, though Arthur is the obvious poster boy in the whole thing, I've grown to see an awfully good looking side to Merlin. He's kind of like Matt Smith (the 11th doctor) in that respect. He should not be goodlooking, he isn't in proportion with himself, his ears are too big, he has a crooked smile (Though personally, they melt my heart), you get the picture.

Or now you get the picture.

Me likey. Me likey mega much. And so it turns out, perfect is not a turn on to me, at all.

And finally, my last little demand of all my fantatic readers- note the extremes of my flattery today, this doesn't happen often- comment my blogs more! I love comments! Make me smile!

Over and out,

Ri. x

Losing You.

Two years ago, in November,

I walked through the door of my house,

I was in a cheerful mood,

I planned to see you that night.

I could feel something strange in the room,

A panicked atmosphere clinging to the air,

The hearthfire sparked and cracked

like a gunshot piercing through the world.

My mother took my arm, and sat me on the couch,

And then, she told me something so horrifying

At first, all I could do was laugh,

A highpitched, false note that seemed so distant from me.

I was refusing to believe that something

So tragic could happen to someone so dear to me,

But a tear escaped and edged down my cheek,

Like a black, winding stream tainted with mascara.

And the gates holding back the flood flew open,

And I struggled to breath between the sobs

That tore the very being from inside of me

And left it raw and red for everyone's eyes.

She told me that you had been crossing the road,

And there had been no cars in sight,

Just that your heart had stopped beating and you fell

And time had not stood still, and you did not speak.

A piece of happiness fled from me that day,

It ripped itself right from my core,

The wound never healed and now lies open,

And has since my rock crumbled away.