Sunday, 12 September 2010
Monday, 6 September 2010
Thursday, 2 September 2010
Best Friend
They say that true friendship lasts forever. That really makes me have my doubts about me and my best friend. I personally feel as if I would do anything for her. That I would go to the end of the world for her but she isn't prepared to do the same thing. Whenever we meet up we always meet up at her house, because she's hungover and can't go out. Because she had a great time the night before and didn't invite me 'cause she needs to spend time with this group of other people. So when I do see her it's in the hours she can't do anything else anyway scared of vomiting of collapsing. So as a good friend I go to hers. It's not nice though when I have to make all the effort.
She never has any money to go out and do fun stuff with me, like go out for a meal or go and see a film. She does have money to go out and spend it on a ridiculous amount of alcohol and even drugs (yes Holland get over it) every single weekend. Besides that she's taking a year off, meaning more partying, seeing me less, spending more money on other stuff and having me around even more when she feels like shit. So that's what I'm good for? So you can complain to someone when you're feeling shitty because your parents don't listen to you anymore?
I've been trying to get over this problem for months and maybe even a year now. When I left for England we were the biggest buddies ever, we though the same about everything. Now I'm back I just don't feel we're getting on like we should. Whenever we see each other she's always talking about herself, every now and then (but only when I've got big news like a break up or a big fight) she lets me speak for 5 or 10 minutes. Other than that I have to put up with crazy stories about how drunk she got this time and what she did with guys or what kind of drug she had taken.
Will be continued...
She never has any money to go out and do fun stuff with me, like go out for a meal or go and see a film. She does have money to go out and spend it on a ridiculous amount of alcohol and even drugs (yes Holland get over it) every single weekend. Besides that she's taking a year off, meaning more partying, seeing me less, spending more money on other stuff and having me around even more when she feels like shit. So that's what I'm good for? So you can complain to someone when you're feeling shitty because your parents don't listen to you anymore?
I've been trying to get over this problem for months and maybe even a year now. When I left for England we were the biggest buddies ever, we though the same about everything. Now I'm back I just don't feel we're getting on like we should. Whenever we see each other she's always talking about herself, every now and then (but only when I've got big news like a break up or a big fight) she lets me speak for 5 or 10 minutes. Other than that I have to put up with crazy stories about how drunk she got this time and what she did with guys or what kind of drug she had taken.
Will be continued...
Pebbles
I've started my Graphic Design course at Uni a couple of days ago. I was in one of my English lessons today (which is easy peasy to me) and we had to make a descriptive piece. We had to think about a certain place and mentally settle ourselves there. I don't know why I'd chosen this setting but this was my little story:
Whilst looking down I cannot only see the tip of my toes and feet resting on pebbles and little rocks, I can also see the water flowing by. I remember the sound of an orchestra playing in the background, though it is just the sound of the flowing water. No real instruments used, just the sound of nature. It can't be avoided to notice an arm being lifted and gently tucking one of the pebbles into the water from which I cannot decide what colour it actually is.
As soon as a pebble touches the surface of the water, the water seems to age by the second. Little wrinkles appear in circles around the sinking pebble, flowing away from its target unil it reaches my feet and it is being pushed back again by the little brown and white coloured pebbles. Leaving changing shadows on the water, blue, dark blue, green maybe? Once dissolved my attention goes to the colour of my feet which blend in perfectly with the colours of the pebbles. The bright nail varnish on the toe nails don't suit this peaceful atmosphere, though this strange contradiction portrays a beautiful image, as if it were to be a picture.
Oh wait, I forgot, it is a picture.
To you this story might not mean anything but it wasn't until I was finished writing when I realised what I had actually written about. When I was little I always went to this place, underneath a tree, with my mother. We'd drove for about half an hour to get there and this place officially became my favourite place. It was so peaceful and quiet. Unfortunately after my mother died I'd never went back there, not because I didn't want to but because I don't know where it is. I can't find that exact tree and it would make it even more special when I would be able to find that one special tree. You might think, well what has a tree got to do with pebbles and water. Basically this tree was about one or two meters away from a big river. The river that sounded like an orchestra to me. Those little pebbles and rocks are actually the pebbles and rocks that I'd used to sit on when I visited that tree, as they were lying underneath it. One day I'll find this tree, one day!
Whilst looking down I cannot only see the tip of my toes and feet resting on pebbles and little rocks, I can also see the water flowing by. I remember the sound of an orchestra playing in the background, though it is just the sound of the flowing water. No real instruments used, just the sound of nature. It can't be avoided to notice an arm being lifted and gently tucking one of the pebbles into the water from which I cannot decide what colour it actually is.
As soon as a pebble touches the surface of the water, the water seems to age by the second. Little wrinkles appear in circles around the sinking pebble, flowing away from its target unil it reaches my feet and it is being pushed back again by the little brown and white coloured pebbles. Leaving changing shadows on the water, blue, dark blue, green maybe? Once dissolved my attention goes to the colour of my feet which blend in perfectly with the colours of the pebbles. The bright nail varnish on the toe nails don't suit this peaceful atmosphere, though this strange contradiction portrays a beautiful image, as if it were to be a picture.
Oh wait, I forgot, it is a picture.
To you this story might not mean anything but it wasn't until I was finished writing when I realised what I had actually written about. When I was little I always went to this place, underneath a tree, with my mother. We'd drove for about half an hour to get there and this place officially became my favourite place. It was so peaceful and quiet. Unfortunately after my mother died I'd never went back there, not because I didn't want to but because I don't know where it is. I can't find that exact tree and it would make it even more special when I would be able to find that one special tree. You might think, well what has a tree got to do with pebbles and water. Basically this tree was about one or two meters away from a big river. The river that sounded like an orchestra to me. Those little pebbles and rocks are actually the pebbles and rocks that I'd used to sit on when I visited that tree, as they were lying underneath it. One day I'll find this tree, one day!
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