Dearest,

Well... 2010 is almost upon us. A new year. A new decade.

It's rather a strange and almost unimaginable thought to think at the beginning of this decade I was yet to experience secondary school, puberty, college, University, a global recession, war. Not known of bands/artists who have helped me through many a tough time, watched films which would inspire me, read literature which would show me the world in a new light and see art which would make me think differently.

It's almost amazing to think how much I would have learnt, done, seen and experienced. The friends I would make, the ones I would lose, the people I would love, to think relatives who seemed immortal would die, that the world around me would fall and build itself back up again.

In one decade from the age of 10 to 19, as I think back now, it's amazing how much I have grown, as a person, how much things have changed both in my self and around me.

I suck at having resolutions. I either forget or simply fail. Therefore, I will simply see how things go in this new decade. Take one step at a time, but only try and make those steps one closer to an overall goal. To be happy, whatever happiness will be to me then. If in ten years time I can say I am happy, I will have acheived something.

We shall see dear friend... we shall see.

I wish you all the best and the next blog will be in 2010, Until then... goodnight.

x

When you grow up, your heart dies.

It's been really lovely being home for Christmas. I've had a catch up with friends, seen all the family, exchanged conversation in ways you only can with people who have been with you as you grew older and shared the memories and times which made you who you are.

It's nice. Very nice. I fear even that I won't want to go back to University, because although I love the academic side of things the actual lifestyle of it all just doesn't compare. It's hard to explain and I won't even try.

One thing I will say is that since getting back one of the comments I have had from various family members is 'I thought being at Uni would have made you grow up a little bit'. This was mainly after being with my three year old cousin. When with my cousin (and children in general) I have been told I come down to their level. I can agree with it, it is very much true... but I wouldn't change that for the world.

You see, I have always thought that in this society children grow old before their time. When I was a child I was told to 'grow up', and I know I wasn't the only one. I don't understand where this mentality came from. Personally, telling a child to 'grow up' is one of the worst things that can be said I think, because a child is just that... a child. A childhood only happens once, and it's a shame so many are losing theirs before they should.

I understand now I am nineteen years old... my childhood ended long ago, but it does not mean I should lose that which I admire and love so much... the imagination. I act my age in some ways, in others I act older, but in many I still act like I would have when I was ten. This isn't an issue to me, it's an issue to the rest of society, or my family, or those who have 'grown up' already. In many ways my immaturity isn't something which can be seen as such, because most of it is in my head and heart. You know how as a child you could imagine a box to be whatever you wanted? I can still tap into that mentality in many ways... I call it being creative. This creativity is something I plan on using throughout my desired career, in fact I plan on using throughout my whole life... so to lose it would be both sad and stupid.

The weird thing is... I get along with most kids really well. The same people who tell me to grow up are the same people who thank me for looking after their kids when there is a party, or the same people who comment on how great I am with kids... they miss the point somewhat, the reason as to why this is.

And so... although this has been a fairly stupid rant, I feel it needed to be said for no other reason than there is no reason. The day I stop being a child at heart will be the day I die, because I wouldn't want it any other way. When you grow up, your heart dies.

Motion Sickness (or the summary of events)

So tomorrow is the day I get to go back home for Christmas.

It has been a rather strange rollercoaster ride since September and since the move to University. Major ups and extreme downs, new people, a new town, a new educational atmosphere to get used to... but all in all its been a really great life experience, where I have learnt so much, be that the good things or bad things about myself or life in general.

I’ve learnt that I can move and be independent without too much struggle, and although this aspect has been quite hard I have gotten used to it and moved onwards and upwards. I have learnt even further that the career I have dreamed of since I was 9-10 is still at the top of my list, that I can meet new people, make new friends and be put in environments I would have previously been fearful of entering.

I have also learnt sometimes things go wrong, be it friendships, projects, organisation or lack thereof, decisions... but that from all the wrongs you can make a right, grow and learn, move on.

I guess I have grown in ways I didn’t think possible. Although I have not made the most of this experience so far, or changed in ways I wanted or would have hoped for, and although it’s not all been what I would have thought or even expected... It’s been something new and a change, and change is better than the familiar sometimes.

So, homeward bound I will be. Back to the people who I have learnt mean the world to me despite what I previously thought. Back to that familiar little place I will always call home. Just back where I need to be for the time being, where my heart belongs... home.

In January I will be back here, and I hope to be back on top of myself and my dreams. And I will be, of that I am sure.

x

If it is capable of ending, It never existed.

"Never say you lost a friend because if a friendship is capable of ending, it never even existed."

I'm feeling optimistic today, infact... I would go as far as to say I am feeling better than I have for the last few weeks, mainly due to knowing this time next week I will be on my way home. It's confusing thinking I couldn't wait to leave, and now I can't wait to be back.

It's that old saying that you never know what you have got until It's gone, and although I always loved my family, I think time away has made me appreciate them all the more. This can only be a good thing, but it's one of those things which takes time to understand. I think almost every teenager, infact most people I have come across always dream of that day when they can leave behind their family and home and start a new life somewhere else, and do whatever the hell they want, when they want... I was guilty of this.

I couldn't wait to just be my own person and not have to worry about what I did and what the family would think, but soon after doing this and coming here, that worry is changed for another... and it's not just the people I miss but the familiararity of everything and everyone. The streets which I got so bored of walking every day have been replaced with new ones.

One thing I find more strange is the fact that the things which annoyed me about people, the constant way certain people would moan at me about anything and everything, the hurtful comments I got from family members who didnt realise the things they said were hurtful... the little things which just bug you after time, all of these things are the things I miss the most.

Missing something only makes the heart grow fonder towards the thing you miss, and this for me at the moment is home and everything related to it. I've only been gone just over 3 months (I think), but it feels like a lifetime. Within this time I didn't think I had really changed, or 'grown up' which is what everyone said I would do... but thinking now, I have learnt some valuable lessons while I have lived independently, and I guess this constitutes for 'change'.

The quote I used at the top of this page was on I saw on Twitter, and with recent happenings it really stood out as something which makes sense at this moment in time. I always find it amazing when something can just jump out and speak to you, often when it's from someone you don't know or have never met, but its that understanding, like listening to a song and relating the lyrics. I have always been a believer in the growth aspect of friendship... the fact that if it doesn't work it just needs to be worked on, like a relationship, but in a way, I guess if a friendship breaks and the cracks form early, it's a warning sign to leave it behind, because if the cracks show so early into it is there really any way which this can be fixed?

If it is capable of ending... I guess it never really did exist, and with many friendships I have often had that doubt on the duration it will last. Is this really a good way to begin something so complicated?

And so... I move on I guess. The logical step is to see what happens. If it mends, there will still be the memory of it broken, and trust will be hard to find again. It's been a lesson all of this, and I have learnt, and I reckon grown, and maybe grown up for this... So every cloud and all that.

Fevers, Mirrors, Scales...

Conor: Well, the fever is basically whatever ails you or oppresses you. It can be anything. In my case it's my neurosis, my depression... but I don't want to be limited to that. It's certainly different for different people. It's whatever keeps you up at night.

Interviewer: I see.

Conor: And the... and the mirror is, as you might have guessed, self examination or reflection in whatever form. This could be vanity or self-loathing. I know I'm guilty of both.

Interviewer: That's interesting. Uh, how bout the scale?

Conor: The scale is essentially our attempt to solve our problems quantitatively, through logic or rationalization. In my opinion, it's often fruitless, but always... ah, not always... And the clocks and calendars, it's just time, our little measurements. It's always chasing after us.

Conor: Do you ever hear things that aren't really there?

Interviewer: I'm sorry, what?

Conor: When I was a kid I used to carry around this safety pin everywhere I went in my pocket and when people weren't paying enough attention to me I'd dig it into my arm until I started crying. Everyone would stop what they were doing and ask me what was the matter. I guess I kind of liked that.

Interviewer: Really... you're telling me you're doing all this for attention?

Conor: No, I hate it when people look at me.

08:02

Sometimes you can think you have some things that are real, but then soon enough they always fall down like everything else. I'm fed up of trying to sustain things, to always be the one that attempts to mend the fractured pieces. This always happens, and yet it still comes as a shock when it does, and why I wonder? Well, because things break when you least expect, or when everything else is breaking around you. It just has a habit of happening this way. But you see the true colors in times like this, the eyes open wide and the obvious stares you in the face. You learn.

These are the times which looking back I will appreciate the most, because no matter how bad things get, when I have pulled through and come out stronger, it's a reward.

I apologise for anyone who follows me on Twitter recently, because every day I have posted negative, ranty and totally self-obsessed tweets, which isn't what I originally set out to do with the medium. It's like this place, I set out to do one thing and iit gradually gets back to being a place to rant and get things off my chest, which is good for the old soul from my end but to those witnessing it, it must be tiring and boring. I admit, it helps... its the fact that its a place where I can simply get things off my mind, but I apologise, and thank those who stick with me and reply... It does mean a lot.

I have noticed I have 12 draft blogs... ones which I started and finished and then never posted for various reasons. I have done this alot often, mainly out of fear of simply being boring, or for writing shit along these lines which no-one would want to read. However, at one point I might just stick them all together and post a huge blog, which no-one will read but which will be there regardless.

I fancy a change of scenery as well, so at some point in the near future this place might look a bit different... but we will see.

Au Revoir dears,

x JH

I fell for the promise of life with a purpose

This was written last night... but for some reason I forgot to post it.

Fuck you rain! Yeah... fuck you. Somehow telling you over the internet feels better than shouting it in the middle of the street. Somehow. As the water seeped into my shoes, I remembered home, salty in my memory and far enough away for the cold to take hold. Home, a strange word. Anywhere I lay my head can be considered home and when I’m back home no doubt I will feel the need to leave again. I don’t feel this is my home, not yet. I’m not familiar with the streets; I don’t know the people... I fear being alone within its imaginary walls. Home is simply a word people created to make themselves feel comfortable in one place.

I don’t know... I’m not thinking clearly. This whole blog is a wheel spin in the shit. My day has been filled with doubt of many kinds. I’ve been out, I’ve been with people, I did work... and still I felt no sense of reality in any of it. Underneath though, in my mind somewhere deep and hidden I know there is pain and suffering everywhere, somewhere... and I’m not the centre of the earth, I’m not important. For all that though, it still feels like I am suffering. In my own way. At my own pace. By myself.

Infact, Bright Eyes has been keeping me company of late. I've been listening to Conor's words on repeat. He has a way with words, a way of summing up my exact thoughts both lyrically and musically. This is why I love music... it becomes a friend in times of need.

Days spill into each other like ink on a canvas, and I don’t know where I am anymore. I go through the same routine, day after day... or some days I mix things up and go the complete opposite. I go from a human to a creature of the night, and I sleep away the days. As I have said before, I prefer the night. The silence feels comfortable.

Friends are strange things. I still don’t know what a real friend is, or at least I don’t think so. I have never felt a bond so strong that I keep friendships up forever. I just don’t. When I move on, in general, so do they, and I too. When I see friends together, I do wonder if I look the same with people I am with often, or if I look uncomfortable with it, the company. I always seem to attract the people though that give little and take a lot, time and energy, various forms of communication, life. Sometimes it makes me think, and when I think like this I just want to curl into a ball and hide in the shadows. I should be grateful for what I have because it’s more than some, but there is this constant knot in me that always seems to get caught.

Something else that annoys me is people who are consistently late... but thats another story.

Everything feels like a competition... and I’m losing. I’m just a spelling mistake on a sheet of paper. What a sad view of life this is. Yet it is what it is, and although I despise and hate the way I feel, I still find comfort in it. It’s an addiction this mindset. You want with everything to just leave it behind but at the same time it seems to be a part of you, an integral part of your very fibre and being... though it’s not.

I write often about this feeling. This mindset. And I have realised that the only reason I do so is not in figuring things out as I go along, as I once thought. It’s not that it’s a way to make sense of something that otherwise seems senseless... I write it all down because I one day hope for it to pass. It’s that simple. I hope one day I may look back and see I have overcome this demon that lives within me, this plaque that rots my life at the moment. And because of that hope, it gives me strength to carry on.

'I fell for the promise of a life with a purpose'

Bright Eyes - If Winter Ends

All is full of love... and money.

I hate adverts. I really do, in every form. Although I don't have a TV anymore, this time of year always screams one thing... money.

They (adverts) give you these ideals about what life is...

A slow fade in from black to a mountain scene and a woman whispering in your ear some beautiful poetry about water, a swan sits in the lake, a child in red wellington boots, an old couple dancing a waltz and throwing food at each other but smiling all the way... lovely music, with cello, a cresendo of strings.

And then the punchline... just as the hair on your neck stands on end and your nipples are hard...

BUY THIS THING.

If you don't buy this chocolate/car/fucking useless piece of shite... your life will never have such beauty and poetry, ever.

Same with the hip adverts with sexy young models running around half naked with the ripped muscles of their torso's dripping in some form of shiny water based stuff... pumping music and sexy french accents.

BUY THIS THING.

If you don't buy this smelly water you can never wish to be beautiful and wanted, never even think of being irresistable. If you don't have a body like a god then the same applies... infact, if you are not this idea of beauty, why are you even alive? But this smelly water will possibly help you, because the smell will put people off your ugly ass face.

And this is where the problem lies dear friend... I want all of these things.

I want the swans in slow motion and the poetry.

Y'know?

It's the same for things you NEED to buy for other people... That toy for a child you might know, that CD for your mother with shitty pop songs and horrid balleds, that band your cousin really loves that keeps appearing on the TV...

If I buy that CD, my mum will love me a million times more than normal this x-mas... All for the cheap price of £9.99... oh yes, eternal love. When in reality it ends up at the back of a draw somewhere and gets listened to only when she is decorating and is fed up of listening to Elvis (which happens rarely).

I hate this side of Christmas, and the overwhelming feeling of being skint yet knowing I need to set that little bit aside to get someone something. I would seriously like to be rich one year, and splash out and buy everyone the thing they really want, but i'm not rich... and this christmas will be hard enough as it is because currently I am wondering how I survive until the next bit of money comes in on the 18th of January... Make sense?

Yeah... Being young at christmas is awesome. You get everything and no-one expects jack shit... and then you are 18 and you are expected, and what do you say to that? I would cancel it if I could. I think people are only giving me money anyway, so why not just say 'It's cool love, with that £10 go buy yourself something you REALLY want, and tell yourself its from me, even its a shitty bottle of wine from Tesco'.

And so... the christmas blues have come early this year. Well, its to be expected when I see it shoved in my face everywhere I turn.

This has been a pointless and far too long rant... and yes, I know that... but I'm bored, and its on my mind, and this is what a blog is for, no? I won't lie, I still love christmas simply because it means some time with family, its a time we all get together, which in itself is good enough.

Right... I have a jar of coffee screaming at me to consume its contents, and I cannot resist.

Until next time (which might just be sooner rather than later, but who knows?),

JH

x

Tell me what it's worth...

‘No, no. Listen, listen. He said that if they dug his father's body up, it would be gone. They planted a seed over his grave. The seed became a tree. Moses said his father became a part of that tree. He grew into the wood, into the bloom. And when a sparrow ate the tree's fruit, his father flew with the birds. He said... death was his father's road to awe. That's what he called it. The road to awe.’


I'm not afraid anymore.

I was thinking last night about the journey I’ve been on through life so far. It started okay, I didn't have a terrible childhood or an amazing one, it was just normal. I grew up like many kids, without a father, raised in a single parent household. We had and still have little money, times were rough often, but at the same time I had a loving family, I had a home and I had a quality of life which far outruns that of what many children have.

Third world countries starve, I had food. Some kids live on the streets, I had a roof over my head.


Through school although expectations of me were low, I tried my hardest and worked hard, and I got the grades. Grades are not everything, but they give you a worthwhile feeling, like it’s something you can be proud of. I did okay for myself, I broke the expectations, and I tried hard to do that. I’ve gone through life always trying, but I hide the fact I try hard. I hide the work I put into things, and people just think I can naturally do well, when often it’s the opposite and it’s through trying again and again.

And so I’ve been thinking, as always... about the past, the present, the future.

As the wind blows wildly outside and the waters fall, I feel a storm brewing inside myself. There is so much happening and so much has changed, yet I’m still the same person. When I think back to my childhood, of course I remember all of the above, but what I remember the most is how I felt, what I saw through my eyes and felt in my heart.

It’s these things that I remember vividly, and though I’m older now, and some would say wiser, I still feel and see the same things. I see hate, I see disorder, I feel pain, I suffer. I don’t help myself when I should, I let others walk all over me... I guess, what I’m really saying is... it’s always been the same.

This trait in me, this lack of ability to stand up and say enough is enough, is what causes me the most trouble and pain. It makes life harder, in many ways. It means I am an easy target, in many ways. And for all the times I feel myself inside being tormented and for all the times I want to stand my ground... I can’t.

It doesn’t come naturally to me.

One thing my granddad said to me before I left for Uni was 'Don't let people take advantage of you'... and so far I have failed with that. But looking back... I have always failed with that.

I would think trying to be the best you can be would lead to being happy, but it doesn’t.

Fuck. Tell me what it’s worth, please?

An update...

Have you forgotten about me yet? It's been a while I know, but with good reason. I've been so damn busy! Okay... maybe not a good reason, but very true.

Anyway, I pretty much have a free weekend apart from a screening of a film and a Q&A with the director tonight, so all being well, if I remember and can get all my thoughts into something considered to be a logical pattern, I shall write.

Before I go shower and start getting ready for the long day/night ahead, I just wanna thank anyone who still reads what I have to say. I don't know who you are, I never get comments or feedback on here (though I have had a few on Twitter), but if you do take the time to read my rambling and moaning, it does mean alot.

I've been wanting to get some sort of counter so I know if anyone visits this place, but can't seem to find one. I'm rather terrible with the technical shit in life... But yeah, if anyone can help it would be nice.

Anyway, expect the unexpected and hope you're Friday the 13th went by without too many troubles.

Love as always,

Moi

xoxo