A Head Full of Beauty

What was it that made me this way? I was talking to my ex boyfriend and he asked me if I still drew. I'd forgotten that I used to draw. I was talented at it. Like I was at all the arts I suppose.... drawing, poetry, music.... at least I still write. And only when he brought it up again did it strike me - how dead I am now - how mechanical - how sober - how cold... like so much around me. My creativity has been so slowly smothered by this heartless world that I didn't even notice it dying. And now I'm left standing in the middle of a choking expanse of city - just a plain face to be networked by soulless bellies full of money. If I ever make it as a lawyer I will be dead. I won't be Ophelia anymore. Do you understand? I'd be one of them. The Unfeeling. Superficial Unfeeling. PLASTIC. A corporate mould of perfected plainness. I don't WANT to be like that for the sake of being normal. This is me: emotional, passionate, wild, untamed, full of pain and heart and insa...

Dear everyone I hope you are all having a very Merry Christmas, I hope you are all safe, with your families and I hope you are all well. I want to take this opportunity - in case you don't all already know - to tell you all how much I love and value you and how much you all touch my hearts everyday. I hope you know that I am walking and cheering you every step of the way until you reach your dreams.... * * * I am so thankful for this cyber somewhere over the rainbow. Our buzzwords: 'beauty', 'perfection', 'thin' - they are so socially unacceptable - not right to think - not right to believe in or desire. All I hear is their anger, whenever I explain that I want to be perfect. "You should be happy and accept yourself as you are." "BUT WHY?! I know I can be better than this, so why shouldn't I work to be better? Why should I accept myself in this lowly state? - WHAT is so wrong about wanting to better myself and strive for perfection?!"...

I've been drifting in and out of consciousness for the past two or three weeks - Consciousness between this world and that, between London and heaven, between then and now... My name is Ophelia ... sometimes Sometimes I'm drowning, sometimes I'm soaring, sometimes I'm so alive I can't feel anything except the pulse rushing through my head, sometimes I'm so dead I need a knife to make me bleed. . . On Thursday I was 'happy' and 'normal'. I was SO happy and normal. I went to law school, made it in for the 9am lecture start, sat between two of my girlfriends, giggled though the whole day with them, went out with my tutor group for drinks and a meal at the end of the day, laughed, chatted incessantly and finally took the first footprints in the thick, fresh snow as I wandered home in the early hours with a sweet smile on my face. And then I shut the door, and I'm drowning again, until the next time... * * * His name is "D". Yes - anoth...

I think this has been the longest I have been away. Or it feels like the longest... A combination of event planning, essays, job - and an overwhelming sediment of stagnant weight - are my excuses for abandoning you all - and I am aware that they should not be excuses. I haven't posted, I haven't read, I haven't commented and I haven't replied - but I will do better, so please forgive me. In my last post I told you that I was being interviewed for a waitressing job - and I did indeed get the job - much to my joy and relief. I've done a couple of shifts so far and apart from my first night when I broke about 20 glasses and dropped cream cheese down a guest's jacket, it's been ok . The only downside is the food... every night the waiting staff get to eat all the leftovers - and there's a lot of leftovers, and it's all ridiculously incredible. I have never found it so hard to resist food. I'm not talking the urge you get for a midnight bread binge....