Born too soon.

You know that feeling you get in your gut, that instinct where you just know that you’re meant to do something or meant for something?

I had that tonight. I have it every time I finish reading a dystopian novel like Uglies or Hunger Games or Divergent or Noughts and Crosses. That feeling where I just know that I’m not suited for this generation I’m in. I’ve been born too soon. This isn’t my time. My mum thinks I’m insane, as does my friend who I’ve texted to tell, but I can’t help it. I can feel it in my bones. I’m reading about these cities and laws and ways of life that don’t exist and just know that those are the environments where I belong. Not here, in 2013, but sometime off in the future.

Don’t get me wrong, there are aspects of my life that I love and wouldn’t change for the world, but that doesn’t stop the gnawing feeling inside me that I’m not supposed to be here and it’s all a big mix up.

I wish I could change it but I can’t. I’m stuck here. And that’s exactly the feeling – stuck.

I’ve been feeling that way lately. Even without all the dramatic futuristic books I’ve read, I feel like I’m currently just going along and existing, not living. I don’t know how to change it. How do you wake up one morning and suddenly decide: “Right, I’m going to start living my life!”? It’s really not that easy. Want to know why? Consequence. We’re all ruled by it. We stop ourselves from doing so many things we want to do because of consequence – we don’t like the thought of what might happen afterwards. We can’t let go and enjoy things too much because of what might happen afterwards. I hate living that way. I’m really impulse driven, and I find it hard to fight off. If I want to do something or say something, I go one of two ways – I either do it without caring and go for it, or I get so crippled by thinking of what could happen that I just don’t have any experiences. I don’t trust my own judgement. I don’t trust myself.

I’ve gone a bit all over the place in this post. I’ve been terrible at writing blogs and keeping up to date but I’m going to try to get better. To be honest I totally forgot I even made a WordPress.

I will get back into it, then hopefully my next post will be more coherent and not just a garbled word-vomit of all my thoughts in one big eruption.

But if anyone perfects how to freeze yourself so you’d survive to live in the future, let me know, because I’d be really interested.


University is weird.

When you first move away to university, there are certain things you should expect:

-Fresher’s – this includes alcohol, lots of it, not to mention weird costumes, random hook-ups and fresher’s flu.
-Living off the shop your parents buy you when you first get there for longer than any normal human being would.
-Loving/hating your housemates.
-Loving/hating your course.
-Homesickness. Even if you don’t enjoy home that much, you will at some point get homesick.

When I came to uni, I had all of this. But being on a degree like Acting, everything is so much more intense. In my first year I had around 25 contact hours a week, which can take it’s toll. Add on going out and trying to have a social life, and it all gets a bit much; especially when your parents are over 4 hours away.

So from the start, I didn’t have a normal first year at uni. I didn’t go out much because of the course load, I couldn’t afford lots of drink, and I didn’t get on with my housemates OR my course-mates much.
So, I spent most of my first year in my room, avoiding the douchey guys I lived with, and I spent my course not comfortable around anyone on my degree. It was hard and I nearly dropped out – I even reapplied to UCAS and got new auditions through for other schools.

Luckily, I powered through, and now, I can’t imagine being any happier.

Originally, because of my people issues, I had no housemates for year 2. Thank god the one girl I liked on my course needed a housemate, so asked me. The same day she asked me, I went to view, and then sign for a house. It was all so quick and I didn’t even know one of the girls I was living with, not to mention the guy I’d only met once.
I move in for second year and my house is perfect. Honest to god, perfect.
My housemates are the best people I think I know. The girl I didn’t even know before moving in, Hannah, is just incredible. We’ve bonded over Dexter and Breaking Bad and now Veronica Mars. We have long chats and go out for drinks and we’re just closer than I’d ever thought we’d be. 
My male housemate, Alex, is one of my closest friends I’d say. I’m currently sat in his room, just writing this blog. He’s working. We can just spend hours together and it’s great, not to mention when I’m ill or sad he’s there to buy me cookies and look out for me. 
Charlotte is the rock, there on my course and at home. We have a good bitch and gossip and she just keeps me grounded, always gives me an honest answer and a new perspective.

It’s nights like tonight where I’ve got nothing to do, but can sit with my housemates and just, be.

I didn’t have that first year, but second year is when it gets good. Promise.


There is one thing I really hate in this life – losing touch.

I don’t like the thought that I no longer talk to someone I once cared about. Obviously, there are those friends who you had when you were six who you shared all your secrets with, and yes those friendships do end and you don’t miss those people. But then there are other people, people you have unfinished business with and relationships that fizzle out when you really don’t want them to.

I’ve had friendships like that.

I once knew a girl who was one of my closest friends. She understood me better than anyone else, and was such a charismatic and spirited girl that when she moved schools I felt really lost. We wrote letters and texted and called on the phone for a while, but she moved on. I spent near 2 years putting all my effort into staying in touch with her – suggesting meeting up, inviting her places etc, but sometimes there’s only so much you can do before accepting someone’s not worth the work anymore.

I once knew a boy, who knew me inside out. We had those conversations that you only have at 3am, that are deeper and more intense that you’d even imagine talking about with someone that isn’t that subconscious voice in your head. We knew each others hopes and fear, our pasts and what we wanted to achieve, and we were more vulnerable with each other than anyone else. Strange as it may seem, this relationship was mostly platonic. There were feelings and undiscussed emotions involved, but due to situations and actions we couldn’t control, we were no longer allowed to talk. This went on for 3 years before one day he phoned me (for a totally un-personal issue that barely related to me, I just happened to be in the right place at the right time).
Those years without him were painful, and it was one of those wounds that never really healed. Due to the situation we were in, I couldn’t discuss missing him or needing him to anyone. And that made him not being in my life that much harder.
We are now back in each other’s lives, but not how I’d hoped. His loyalties lie to another, someone so close to me as well it means our friendship is superficial and leaves too much hanging in the air between us. So in many ways, I still don’t have the boy that I used to know back.

Tonight, however, I got a message. My best friend has a tendency to go AWOL every now and then, and I won’t hear from him for a good few days/couple of weeks. I normally get an apology afterwards, but I am left in those days and weeks worrying about him and missing him.
Tonight, however, was different. Tonight was the first night, ever, that he has spontaneously messaged me in one of his MIA-phases to tell me this:

“Hey beautiful. I’m sorry I’ve been neglectful – been a horrible time here. So much stuff to do. I’m going for an early night now, but I do miss you like crazy, and I do think about you.”

That one message just solidified why he’s my best friend, and why I love him. It makes me smile to think that after all the times he’s disappeared from me without a word, I didn’t give up on him, and hung around until he came back to me.

And he always does.

A bit of Bloco..

Before university, I was under the impression that Samba was just a dance. Fresher’s week, I get approached by two guys asking if I liked samba. I said yes just because why not, only to be probed with questions about whether I play percussion or had rhythm.

So turns out, Samba is drumming too.

I would never have pegged myself doing samba drumming ever in my life, but here I am, spending minimum 3 hours a week playing in two bands and I now can’t imagine my life without it. On my course, the people drone on with their dramas and immature little issues. At samba, we just jam and create music and just have fun. It’s one of the highlights of my week. When I’m there, I feel like I’m totally able to do whatever I want and be who I am without needing to impress or worry or live up to some random person’s expectations of me. The people there love me regardless.

Even if one of the lead guys nearly killed me riding on the back of his van tonight.

Bloco Talento are my extended family, and I love them all. Today wasn’t great, but a bit of Bloco makes it all worthwhile.

Sunday’s make me think.

Possibly the cause of a mid-afternoon nap, possibly because I had a spontaneously deep conversation with my housemate, or possibly because it’s just a sunday.

After watching some videos and reading some articles, I’ve decided I want to broaden my horizons. I want to think about wider issues, be aware of other things in this life, not just the ones that directly affect me. I want to have an opinion on things and I want to be able to articulate my ideas and thoughts to others for an interesting conversation.

Being a student currently at university, I’m all too bored of conversations relating to drunken escapades or relationship drama or simple course related gossip. Conversations like that just aren’t doing it for me anymore. I’m looking for the kind of mental stimulation it appears a lot of my peers can’t really offer.

So, I’m breaking out of my own little box and I’m going to try to use this blog to do it.

Wish me luck, and I’d love to have as many comments and messages as you can throw at me.