Saturday, 9 May 2009


I have actually accidentally written this poem onto the wrong blog - it should be in my poetry one; I thought I'd leave it on here as well though, as it sort of ties in with previous posts about my religious views as well as other things. If you're the type of person who likes to make their own mind up on poetry, and their own theory behind it, I'd skip the next paragraph and just go straight onto the poem (I am one of those people, and reading the poem's meaning before the poem just ruins it for me - so I thought I'd just let you know!)

It's basically about the people on this planet who claim to be something they are not, in the eyes of God. Evil people, who say they have been called to do something by God, yet are doing something that every person with a sense of morality on this planet would see contradicts every word that comes out of their mouths. And the poem is about how the 'day of judgement' would treat them in reality, rather than in their twisted words. However, the poem is also about how the 'good' of the world would fair on this day. The latin translates to 'The sun will rise Again. Again.' As the focus of the poem is on the immoral and evil person, they are not supposed to understand these words...

Pounding at a bolted door,
Knives running 'neath the stars;
Sticks of slaves and thunderous whips:
Powdered crimson scars.
Here I am; your hourglass:
I've kept you behind bars.
Here I am, your final day;
The day you proclaimed Ours.

Sol solis mos orior oriri ortus

Ocean's azure innocence
Turned writhing in the dark;
Light symbolises safety,
But this fire is so stark.
Here I am, your conscience call;
Through me you leave your mark.
"Here I am; so ethical";
A drowning scarlet spark.

Sol solis mos orior oriri ortus

Swaying in the gentle breeze,
Trees sinking to the ground;
To the youthful piercing pupil
Desperate dancing is renowned.
Here I am, the death of them;
The cry of altered sound.
Here I am, the silent storm;
I strike their sorrow down.

Sol solis mos orior oriri ortus

Battle with the falling sky;
Your scream is held within.
The blood red tears of soldier's deaths:
Your condescending sin.
Here I am; your nightmare's call,
Gold melting off my skin.
Here I am; your only one,
The fire you did begin.

Sol solis mos orior oriri ortus

The struggling rays of sunlight
Leave hazy, burning scars.
The smoke above is rising:
Obscuring fading stars.
Here I am; your hourglass:
I've kept you behind bars.
Here I am, your final day;
The day you proclaimed Ours.

Sol solis mos orior oriri ortus


Wednesday, 22 April 2009

Wandering; Wondering...

It seems strange to me that I only learnt these two words had different meanings a couple of years ago, as still they seem like one definition in my own mind; they are just a metaphor of eachother: wandering is walking in no particular direction, while your mind is wondering in no particular direction, and so they can be swapped.

I've found it is nice to be able to wander, to escape all the chaos and havoc for an hour, while I aimlessly walk and admire whatever catches my eye. Today I just couldn't study, so I went for a wander in the woods; it was an overcast day but the sun's beams managed to reflect off the lake in such a wistful way that they gave me the illusion of sunshine, which somehow always brightens my spirits. Not that I feel dark at the moment, but it is nice to get away from the stress of the revision books!

I have discovered that I now feel safe when I wander. I used to run at the first shadow; create people watching me behind every tree: it may sound paranoid, but with all the 'rising knife crime' and worse in the British papers at the moment, it's easy to let my imagination overpower the few rational thoughts in my head. And then the youth of today are attacked for staying inside all the time; it seems we are trapped in a darkened corridor with obesity, cancer, diabetes in one direction, and murder, attacks and abuse in the other.

Personally, I have learnt to take media with a hint of skepticism, and have decided I would much rather take my chances outside in the few places where I feel free, and with this I have let go of my paranoia. However, I can empathise with those who would rather feel safe. And I can feel the condescending nature of those few older people who have the youth of today trapped in a vice. The exaggeration of the media today concerning Britain's youth, particularly on their crimes, to their apparent lack of morals, to their carelessness about their rising obesity and unhealthiness, is appalling. And furthermore it is a downwards spiral...

I'm sorry about this rant, but it seems to me that we, meaning young people of the country, have got somewhat of the short straw when it comes to the prejudices and assumptions of older people. Most of us are not criminals; most of us would like to be able to walk the streets without fear; and most of us have hopes and dreams we'd like to aspire to before being caught in this downward spiral.

But me, I suppose I shall go back to wondering what the world would be like without the judgements of others, or the 'scare stories' of the media weighed upon my shoulders, as I wander among the bluebells blooming under the trees, and think that humanity really is a beautiful thing, if only that beauty could be grasped.

Friday, 27 February 2009

Essence of Creation

Last night I went for a walk to the sports field near my house. The night sky was clear; the wind had an icy edge; the fields and the streets took on a different persona in the darkness; a more claustrophobic one. When I reached the sports field, it was an open expanse, an oasis of greying green, surrounded by the distant shadows of homes.

I laid down in the middle of an empty tennis court. Strange, I know, but the people who walked by were people I'd probably never see again, so I just lay there, looking up at the stars. I was with a friend, and they were humming softly to themselves, but I felt completely alone... hypnotised by the enthralling pinpricks of other worlds above me, and by the wind whistling through the trees.

I felt like I was listening to departing footsteps, but hearing a grasping melody.

I know many people, when confronted by the entirety of Space, feel insignificance for their lives, and the world they see through their eyes, but I don't think we should feel this way.

We should feel like an integral part of the world.

Part of the Universe.

One of the essences of creation itself.

When I look up to the night sky, I feel like I'm not alone. Like there's something, somewhere, watching. Helping. And although it makes me desperate for true knowledge, and puzzled by the fact that our facts are only theories awaiting proof, the sight of the stars and the fact that I'm here makes me feel overwhelmingly privileged to be a part of something so amazing.

Insignificance is not the word.

Just a tiny part of a massive puzzle, yet to be solved.

I don't know how long I lay there, staring at the stars, but long enough for these thoughts to entwine my mind, and take it over as I stared with focused happiness.

Whatever you believe about the creation of the world, it is a breathtaking thing. Only scarred by our unappreciating selves, but I'm sure, if we ever were to go, it would heal faster than we could imagine. And I know it scares some people to know the only thing they will leave on this Earth are fading memories, but in some ways I see it as a comfort. Given time, the world can heal, and things will always carry on as they were supposed to. We are just a page still being read and yet to be turned over in the history of the world.

Sunday, 22 February 2009

Indiy the Gecko

Well, still aiming to write a bit about my day-to-day life here, but today not too much happened. I went for a long walk in the woods, which as always was beautiful - the overcast sky made me see the place in a different light; an almost magical light. It's strange how oddly amazing the silhouette of skeletal trees can be. Staring up at the sky, entwined with delicate branches, I wished I had a camera on me, but as always I had forgotten it for a time when I really needed it!

I spent some of the evening with Indiy, my Leopard Gecko. 4 years and he still amazes me; it may sound strange but lizards can be brilliantly intuitive. Just as I walked into my room today, he came running up to the glass and put both hands against it - he does this when he wants to be sprayed with water, and surely as always this was what he wanted. I then realised I had no pictures of him, so he had his first experience of a photo shoot today....

Saturday, 21 February 2009

Writer's Block...

It's strange how I don't tend to write about my life on this blog, as that is what I intended it to be, but instead I write about the random commentary which are my thoughts...

Right now, I feel I need inspiration .... writer's block is perhaps the most frustrating of all feelings, but it's so hard to find in the confines of indoors. At least it is for a girl who spends most of her life wandering outside in nature, blown away by the complex beauty that lies within. Such beauty doesn't seem to capture me in man-made goods.

So, I suppose as I have no particularly intriguing thoughts, but am still doomed by writer's block, I should write a little about myself.

I live in North England, where I just recently moved from the south. I go to high school. Which I don't like. But next year I will be going to college to do A levels to become a biologist, and I cannot wait! The main talk at school is how everybody is so scared of going to college, but I've been ready for too long now, and I think I'm going to love it.... :)

In a month, I am moving again, to Cheshire. I visited the house yesterday with my dad and my brother, and it is amazing! It's in a small hamlet, at the bottom of a valley, isolated yet entwined in a lovely community. While there I found a badger set just behind our house, saw many rabbits, a fox, and a Buzzard swooped brilliantly close above my head. Buzzards never cease to amaze me! Their graze, splendour, ease and beauty...

I feel restless though. I love moving, and I just want to go. My house at the moment is far too normal, in a normal neighbourhood.... my new house is a unique architectural design - slightly odd and quirky, but fun too...

I'm also restless about this summer. Exuberant, excited, jittery, and restless to leave: I'm going to the Peruvian Amazon, alone, for 3 weeks. I am absolutely, completely over-excited about this venture. The Amazon has been my dream since I first watched a David Attenborough (the king of my idols...) documentary about it when I was about 5. Now I am finally going, and nothing else seems to matter! Apart from the small matter of my GCSE's beforehand....but I try to avoid this thought as much as possible!

The Amazon..... I am still in utter disbelief!

I think I was born to travel. Nothing makes me happier than seeing the world. Experiencing different cultures. Routine bores me, and change makes me feel whole. But I'm not the voice of experience; no where near, so I can only hope that my vibrant energy for travelling isn't diluted as I get older. And I hope with all my heart that my fascination with nature and animals can grow into a voice of experience....

Wow, who knew I would manage to write about myself for that long. It may just be rambling though. I haven't quite mastered the art of a blog about day-to-day life, but maybe a blog about day-to-day thoughts, and the one-off entry about the truly amazing experiences will do. Here's hoping :)

I thought I would leave on some pictures and quotes... this, a fleeting glimpse of me and a beautiful lakeside park in Devon. I never did grow out of swings... feeling like I'm flying is like a taste of longed-for freedom.
And below, childhood was always a freedom to me, so I won't forget it. Mud paint at 15, and I refuse to give up! I generally adore this photo as well - a complete accident, and we still manage to look like evil tyrants!

"Life isn't about finding yourself, it is about creating yourself."

"Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you have imagined..."

"When you cease to dream, you cease to live."

"Be the Change you want to see in the world"

Thursday, 19 February 2009


Wandering round iTunes, I found a singer called Brett Dennen, and his song 'All we have'. I think the base to a good song are the depth of the lyrics, and the meaning behind the voice; so by that standard, this song is absolutely amazing!

Here are just a few of the lines that gave me that good-music-vibe....if you know what I mean :)

"It's got us all in competition

For wealth and recognition

Globalization I say's a contradiction"

"So we can rise above the madness"

"There's enough wealth for everyone

But some have the most

And most have some"

"There's enough food for us all to flourish

Tell me why are so many malnourished

You say there's weakness in an empty pocket,

No and I'll tell you there's weakness in an empty heart"

"And if you give it,

I have learned it'll all be returned

If you only give love

If you only just give your love"

If you have time, have a listen to the song, and tell me what you think. I think it captures the strife of this world yet the spark of hope in every one of us for something better amazingly.

Where would we be without music? :)

Sunday, 15 February 2009

Double Trouble...

Today I decided to attempt to take some decent pictures of my lovely Chinchillas .... Unfortunately I think Chinchillas may actually be the hardest creatures on Earth to take a good picture of! Please tell me if you know of harder! Out of dozens of pictures, these were the few that came out with a visible Chinnie in - the others are just blurs of grey and white...

The white Chinchilla is Zhambe, the bulky boy, and the grey one his little sister, Mungo. They're both still babies, and they're incredibly entertaining! They always manage to put a smile on my face...

"Love of animals is a universal impulse, a common ground on which all of us may meet. By loving and understanding animals, perhaps we humans shall come to understand each other."

— Dr. Louis J. Camuti

"Animals are not brethren, they are not underlings; They are other nations, caught with ourselves in the net of life and time."

— Henry Beston, American Author, also known as "The Vagabond of the Dunes" (1888-1968)

Tuesday, 10 February 2009


This morning I woke up while the darkness still engulfed the world outside, but still I drew my curtains enthusiastically in the hope that maybe it had snowed again last night. It hadn't. So as I prepared for the novelty of snow to disappear, and life to return to the steady tiresomeness of routine, I also prepared to not have the most enlightening day.

But as I walked down to the bus stop, just after the sun had risen in the clear skies, I was surprised by feeling uplifted and exuberant. Everything seemed beautiful, in its most simple form. I didn't need novelty, or no routine, I just needed to open my eyes, and on this crisp winters morning it seemed the perfect time to do this.

The pastel colours of the bird song in the back of my mind,

The way the sun made the dew twinkle on the grass,

The scattered light shining through the beautiful skeletons of trees,

The remaining memory of snow in the snowmen; the memory of laughing children and families in gloves and scarves, and bright red cheeks,

The cold breeze blowing on my face,

The smile of a friendly stranger, and the happy eyes of their four legged friend,
My shadow morphed into a giant, skipping along the pavement....

I never thought sentimentality would capture me, but it is not something that hits you, it is something that grows inside you. Everything is so beautiful when you look at it with an open mind, and a smile on your face. Tonight I got in to hear of the further devastation in Australia, and the sentimentality in my mind was gone, but it stays within me, ready for another care-free, beautiful morning, where everything might just seem beautiful again. Beautiful in it's simplest form, without the need for novelty.

"It is the simple things that make life wonderful."

"You were born an original. Don't die a copy."
"A closed mind is a good thing to lose."


Sunday, 8 February 2009

Innocence of Snow,

"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away."
Snow. A blank canvas, ready for you to make your mark. I love snow; I've seen it only 5 times in my life, but when I do see it, I revert back to being the 5 year old, excitable, ecstatic little girl who couldn't believe the beautiful little stars landing on my gloves were really there.
We all return to innocence in the snowfall. A snow day, we're all off school, and we have a snowball fight in a blizzard, laughing and rugby tackling eachother; sledging down the hills and venturing out onto an icey lake - a game of chicken.
The towns and cities become a massive playground for us all, while the countryside turns into the most beautiful sight in the world. So after my day of rolling around in the snow, I went for a walk in the woods, and nostalgia swept over me. Why can't everyday be a snow day? Why can't this uncaring happiness be never ending?
Maybe because then the moments that take our breath away, like when I was standing by the beautiful, frozen lake, remiscing about winters years ago, would simply just turn into breathing. And without moments that take our breath away, where would we be?

Thursday, 22 January 2009

See the light.

Today I was told I'm an optimist, for always seeing the lighter side of darkness. But there is always light in darkness.

The problem is you can only see it in the natural world. You won't find a pessimist there where you can look up to the stars, and see that hope is never lost; it never can be in the greater scheme of things, for even when there is only the hollow light of the moon, there is still light.

Only cities hide the stars. There is too much false light; false hope; false glory for the real light to be seen. So a pessimist can only be found in the cities, which blind me uncompromisingly. This industrialisation is a mistake. If we could all see the light, we could see the terror which we have set ourselves upon.

Maybe then, and only then, will we ever stop and realise we've been blinded. Then maybe we can let our eyes adjust.

"The war between light and dark, as it plays out in present time on this planet, is between the philosophy of maximum freedom and maximum control at the expense of freedom."

Wednesday, 21 January 2009


Life, a source of controversy, means so many different things to so many different are 3 of my favourite quotes:

"Life is a dream for the wise, a game for the fool, a comedy for the rich, a tragedy for the poor."
Sholom Aleichem

"Life is wasted on the living."
Douglas Adams

and my favourite...

"The purpose of life is a life of purpose."
Robert Byrne

Just a page from my diary...

Amongst craziness, I think we seek refuge, but only in our baffled, philosophising consciences.

When I feel the weight of my own self-created problems on my shoulders, I write to make the world seem beautiful; to make my knowledge seem more wise, and to make my mind, my monologue of life, seem less cluttered and insignificant.

My life is smooth with no sharp corners. No jagged glass lays awaiting to slice my independence; a shadow doesn’t lurk around the very next corner to take away the future and leave only the impressions of the past. But history tells me my experiences are padded with the cotton wool of a democratic freedom, which I am well aware is a privilege I did not have to earn.

The wise of this Earth and the wisdom of this universe say only peace in ourselves is a refuge. There is no winner. No best. As long as I am me, and you are you, and the boundary of our satisfaction is understood and not stepped over into another cluttered, problematic world of dogmatic egotists.

Why must everything we do be marked with our own independence, as if we have to prove to ourselves that we are separate entities, with different dreams? We will never be one; this is not a world of no contradictions, try as we might to be free of hypocrisy.

We are each our own person, to be wise in different ways, to create messages in art and create art in people. We, the spoilt and inexperienced, overcomplicate this mark of independence to the point of contradiction; whole cultures have emerged purely from our own sense of incompletion and unworthiness. We mould ourselves into groups, copy each others originality to the point of hypocrisy, and only feel worthy; special; enlightened, if our uniqueness is recognised and our difference adored...

Maybe the young are meant to feel bound by a false freedom; maybe it is a greater spirits aim for us to work towards true freedom: the freedom of the human race; the freedom of the mind.

A monologue no longer overcast by self-doubt.

Maybe once the will for a human freedom; a total freedom; a better world, is lost, we resort to finding our own inner peace, subconsciously giving into the wisdom of experience that tells the elderly the quest for moral righteousness across the world is no longer their obligation. A new generation can take over their rolls.
Or is it only me who feels this obligation ... ?

Maybe the human race is just a work of art expressing its true colours only in the primitive, its anguished colours only in the striving, and its false colours only in the ‘developed’.

Primitive tribes whose only ambition is love and life wear white smiles, earthy colours and always sparkle with an enthusiasm for life that grey towers, grey suits, grey eyes have inhibited and killed.

Striving nations are red with blood and dull with death and sickness, at the expense of the greedy and immoral ... usually the developed nations.
Developed worlds are grey with the dullness we should not be living, and the boredom of life so many of us express. But yellow with hope. A hope that shines across the world.

Perhaps the so-called day of judgement is just a day for us to feel accomplished. We, ourselves, cannot find a meaning of life so we leave it up to a Higher Power.

I do believe in this mysterious entity, but I also believe the meaning of life is to create meaning in ourselves. To stop destroying the beauty of the canvas of the world with the stark colours of our anguished, frustrated emotions, and start creating beauty within ourselves; leave our emotions glowing, not dull; not stark, but vibrant, in such a way that an accusation of forgery would be a lie, and it would be unquestionable that each one of us would be a masterpiece of peacefulness within ourselves.

Nioki Ray

I live in a world I have yet to make sense of, with a thirst for knowledge I have yet to quench ...

I know things look different from everybody's perpective, so to some people I suppose this blog will just be a lot of crazy babbling, but I've decided to fill it with the questions life poses me and the hint of the answers I find.

My thoughts don't even make sense to me, so bare with me while I try to find my path in life, and I try to find myself.