Friendship

I'm really worried about what people think of me. I don't show it, but I am.
Which is why I'm in such a depressive mood now.
But I'm more worried about other people in general. I can't help but sympathise with someone, no matter how small their plight is. So I'm blogging about that instead.

At the moment, my friendships are a bit mixed up and I'm not sure who's where on the loyalty scale, but I tend to stay loyal way past the point of time friendship should be over.
That's probably what's happening with my ex and my thought processes at the moment.
We grew to be best friends, he asked me out, we went out a couple of months, I broke up with him because it was too awkward, and we went back to being really close again. Except you can't go through something like that and let it not have an affect on a friendship.
I didn't get over him for a while. It's hard to when you're talking to this person everyday.
Which is probably why he's the one person I can never have a decent conversation with now.
I remember we used to be able to talk about anything at all and feel comfortable. Our conversations got really deep, but we could switch back to jokey in an instant. Of course, this was when we were just friends. I kind of wish I had someone like that now, a proper friend who I could say anything to. It'd help me out a lot right now.

He's going through some stuff at the moment, repercussions of dating people who were previously his best friends. It doesn't tend to work out, because friends are friends and relationships are relationships, and in the past... just over a year, he's been broken up with thrice because- a direct quote -"it was much better when we were best friends, now everything is awkward".
And I obviously have an opinion on this, because I have an opinion on near everything, but we've grown too distant for me to say it without worrying about offending him.
I really value his friendship, but it's so hard to keep it together. And he's changing as a person, trying to fit into a mould that he's not, and it shows. He hangs out with the boys who only have one thing on their mind, and only one thing coming out of their mouth.
He has a lot more depth than that...
People change, and everyone finds that.
There isn't very much you can do about it.

Absolutely nothing to do with what is going on, but it helps order my thoughts.

Thanks for reading.

Teasing.

Not giving people what they want is extremely fun.
Just an extra swing to your voice, raise it an octave, act all innocence... Or alternatively, interpret every word they say literally, and patronise them. Of course, when they know you don't mean it. Because otherwise that's just cruel.
And of course, I am definitely not a cruel person.
Is it really not right?

I mean, we've all done the donkey-with-a-carrot thing at some stage during our lives.
Occasionally though, you've got to give the donkey a chance to rear up on its hind legs and grab the carrot in its teeth, otherwise it's gonna buck and throw the cargo off. (On second thought, can donkeys actually rear?)
You've got to know when to stop, when you've pushed it far enough, but you've also got to let it know that it needs to do work to eventually get the carrot.
Humans can be pushed beyond breaking point, but not by delaying the mundane things that teasing delays. That idea is too ridiculous to contemplate.
Too keep something small (figuratively) just out of reach is far enough for me.
But to an extent, blackmail or torture is merely an elevated form of teasing. (That sounded ever so slightly pschopathic... As in, emotionless, the true form of the word, rather than "mindless killer".) I'll let you figure that one out for yourself though.
Which is why I may have a gross fascination with torture itself, because I enjoy teasing. I doubt it though, I just appreciate history and the lessons we can learn from it, storytelling and the places it takes you, and the representation of violence in movies- all of which have something to do with torture.
Is that right? Is it human?
Of course.
All human is is flaws. Or gifts, depending on which way you look at it. But I'm a glass half empty type of girl.
Thanks for reading,
Brittany.

Bucket List

This is a term brought up more and more, as I've been getting older. I never heard it in primary school, but I guess as we near an age that we have to think about the future, more of the future is being thought about than required. I mean, that's the one thing I'm scared of, the future, but I can't help but make detailed plans before it.
(Before the future? Because that makes sense.)
Is there really a need to carry something out before you are gone? I know that one of the possible meanings of a humans' life is to leave a legacy, but in a thousand years I doubt even The Beatles will be exactly prominent in peoples minds, let alone Ke$ha.
What do I want on my bucket list? (Very glad I corrected that 'who' typo.)
I'm not that sure. I basically want my life to be an experiment, so ...constantly trying new things, I want room for everything in it, but that means nothing on my ideal bucket list has meaning.
And I have things that I want to do before I'm twenty five. Do they count, or is that idea more of a "before sensibility" list?
Because I'm not going to make any of the big decisions- marriage, kids, tattoos, moving away- before then, because that's the age of stupidity, from about mid teens, where I'm at now, until mid twenties. I obviously don't know from experience, but I've known a few people in that age range to take a downturn because of decisions they have made.
And once you fall down that far, it's near impossible to get back up.
I guess that's what life is, regrets and accomplishments, and no-one has gone through without both.
Then again, that could be a lie, because those who die minutes or hours old don't have time to make a decision to regret.
I can't sum life up; I'm fifteen. I've had far too little experience, especially seeing as there's only been one person, to my knowledge, who has even come close.

"In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on."- Robert Frost

What I understand is that people need something to live for, and that, for some people, might be a bucket list. I know, so far, it is for me.

Thanks for reading.

Brittany.

Innocence.

I'm such an innocent for 15.
Not many people have morals as strict as mine, and if they do, they don't uphold them to the extent I do.
Especially mid-teens, the lax years, where everything is starting to get closer. Limits are being pushed, legality and morality is being questioned. All the restrictions are only a year or two away, whether alcohol or other, and those restrictions are ignored. I'd bet most of my mates have been pushed a lot farther than I have, but because I'm such a good little girl, I stay put.
That's not to say I don't enjoy a bit of alcohol, or pushing my limits a bit in another way, but they're pretty much hammered in.
I mean, of course I've broken the law, I mean, anyone who picks wildflowers breaks the law.
But there's major and minor consequences, but those consequences for a particular form of boundary are more a personal issue of mine.
When I make promises, I keep them, especially promises to myself.
There's a sense of betrayal, a sense of distrust, and if I do it once, I won't be prepared to go near that stage for a long time.
Which is why people have learnt not to push me, because I make my boundaries clear, and when people lose faith in my will, in my ability to control myself, they push, and I have broken a couple and lost my temper because of it. One person has seen me angry, properly angry.
'Cause of course, being me, I believe in my own strength, but don't let that provoke anyone to test it, because I'm not sure how much fact the belief is based on.
I have an opinion on everything, and I have morals on most aspects of things, so there's a lot of boundaries to break, more so than what I've alluded to already.

This has been a messed up blog, with ideas and thoughts squirming out of place, sorry.

Thanks for reading.
Brittany.

Holidays aren't holy days.

So I've just been on a week long holiday. Except it was only 6 days. Except that six days turned out to be five days, because the weather had developed to be.. well, dodgy, and the house didn't feel quite as sturdy as it did on a day that it was sunny. Wind was whistling through gaps we couldn't find, and it was cold and bright all over.

I'll reword that paragraph, shall I?
I just returned from a short holiday to Rottnest.
Better?

Rottnest. The island just off the coast of Western Australia, more specifically, Perth. A place of skyrocketed prices

different animals,

massive cake slices,

great bike rides,

and amazing photography.

When it isn't raining, and the wind isn't blowing you sideways.
I suppose most places have the potential for all of that. It depends on how you classify opinion.
Don't think, strictly speaking, that made sense.
I went with my family, and family friends of ours. Annoying, because though my younger brother had someone to hang out with, and my older sister had someone to hang out with, and then when another family joined us for two days they each had even more people, I had absolutely no-one to talk to.
My brother is twelve, very soon thirteen, as is the friend of ours, and as is one of the other people who came.
My sister is disabled, and we had one disabled boy and one girl who gets along with her stay with us.
My mother had her two friends from the families.
I had my phone, rapidly running out of battery without a charger.
Fun.
But I also had a bike, and a camera. And that made it a decent holiday. As did the cakes. And pasties.



I spent most of my time on the island cycling, taking photos, eating, sleeping, and reading.
Talking to people came after all that.
I behaved like a typical, sulky teenager, which I've never done before, but then, I have never really had a social life to the extent I do now, and all I wanted was to be back on the mainland. (Is that pretentious? Calling it a mainland?)
I got my wish, sure enough, but for the most part, it was for the worse.
I couldn't cycle, and I couldn't take that many photos in the weather conditions we had for the last two days of the trip.
I got in some good ones though, on my early bikerides/walks.



Cyclists on Rottnest were nice. Which is probably a given, seeing as it's the most popular form of transport over there. When I go out for my almost-daily morning bikeride here, all the cyclists are terrible with greetings and smiles, even a bloody nod is too much for them.
Me and my mother are not cyclists, we are bikeriders, and proud of it.
As were most of the people on Rottnest.

All in all?
A craptastic holiday.
Not the given meaning of craptastic, the meaning I give to it.
Fantastic and crap.
All in one.
What a bundle!

Thanks for reading.
Brittany.

Emotionally attached.

I'm falling. Falling pretty damn fast, I must say.
Obviously, not in a literal sense. Yeah, I'm typing this on my way to my deathbed on the rocks below the cliff I just jumped off.
No, I mean emotionally, I feel like I'm falling. Whether it's a fall as in tripping over, or a fall as in tripping over a cliff, I don't know.
I don't get attached easily. The few guys that I've dated, being only young, there's only been two I've felt emotionally attached to, and the current one is just bloody off the scale, which is scary, and just... crazy. The other one is currently what I call my best friend, but that's very debatable and a topical issue of mine at the moment, and maybe one for another blog.
I hate not being in control of my emotions, but it's a rollercoaster, and I always enjoy thrills.
I've never said love to anyone before. Anyone but my family. It's a word that ties down a lot, and it makes you stay put, and I don't really know that I want that. But I said it pretty early on this time around. And I don't know, maybe then, it was an obligatory reply, I mean, it's horrible for someone to say that they love you and for you to leave them hanging at that.
But what scares me now is that I know it's not an obligatory reply, that I definitely mean it. And I don't want to, I don't want to at all, but I do.
It's letting loose a bit as well, like, I haven't properly let any emotion show since I got over my depression only a little over a year ago, and now I'm showing a wanting, and an eagerness, and love. And it's scary letting one person see that, which is why I can honestly say I trust him. He's sweet and chilvarous... which is an odd trait to like, coming from me, a 15 year old teenage girl, but it's different in the lads of today, and that's something I love.
God, I'm getting more English by the second. "Lads." Next thing you know I'll be calling guys "fit" and trucks "lorries".
But it's not just that, he can be the opposite as well, which can be fun, to say the least.
It's good to know that I can keep control though. I need to remind myself that sometimes, and that sometimes turns into most of the time when I'm with him, because no matter what I feel for him, he's a boy, and I can't let it get too intense. Teasing him is partly jest for me, and partly a reminder to myself.

I don't know, I feel like I'm far too young to be writing about this and have a clue what I'm talking about, which is why I'm apprehensive about posting this. There's also the fact he will read.

Thanks for reading
Brittany

Passion

I'm half writing this as a response to a friends blog, and half writing this because it's a topic I've wanted to cover for a while, and they brought it up and reminded me. There's probably a few other halves I could cover, but then that would mean I can't add up, or that I'm putting over a hundred percent into my writing... and technically that would mean I should be writing with amazing quality and clarity. I'm not.

People are connected by all manner of things; differences in thought, the whole opposite poles thing- or more often, significant similarities in common interests. Common interests spark friendships the world round, but it's the people who share more than a common interest, a passion(a deep feeling) for a certain pastime or subject of interest, who seem to form bonds quickly and more tightly than the rest.

For example, a passion of mine is the English language.
Maybe you're thinking "Well duh, she surrounds herself with people who speak English," because that's what I thought as soon as I typed the sentence, but even if you are you know that is not what I mean.
I tend to surround myself with people I can discuss language with. Like, people who write and read on a regular basis, people who overanalyse, people who interpret. I feel they can understand what could be referred to as my 'obsession' easier than others. I am amazed by language. How can someone string words together in a way that makes sense, let alone a way that is engaging? How can someone string an alphabet together?
And novels, man, I can't begin discussing novels without leading into a half hour lecture.
But then I wouldn't have time to discuss acting at all, and that's a huge part of my passion for language.
But what my passion involves is not the point. My point is that I feel I have closer ties with those who I am able to discuss language with than I could ever have with them otherwise, and this in turn, means I have a stronger tie with those who share a passion, or at least a common interest in comparison to what is my passion.

I have a passion for life (Well obviously, everyone who lives has a deep involvement with life), but not so much that I don't ever want to die... I look forward to death, to an extent, just to experience something new, something I have not done before. I know I want to die quickly, but I also want to die with intense pain, because when you are in pain, you're really living, and I want that sense of ultimate life at the moment of death.
I'm not a die-peacefully-in-my-sleep kind of girl.
See, I've planned out my death, I've planned out my job, I've planned out my education, but the one thing I haven't properly planned out is my future. That worries me. It doesn't scare me.

Emotion. There's my last. Emotions are valuable, that's why I try not to give too much of it away and keep it tucked in my own secret corner. Those who know me with a loud, obtrusive personality and that only don't really know me, because there is this me which exists in my time, the engrossed in thought me. I have a deep feeling for feeling itself. I let them out occasionally, otherwise they wreak havoc in my brain.

But those who don't have a passion, those who don't have a topic of their own, that's something I do not envy. They can cause you many problems, but they give out the rewards.

Brittany.

Blood is thicker than water, but you don't really drink blood.

Family.
One word. Five letters. It can mean so much and so little. So many connotations, to just myself, let alone all the different views that must be present in the world.
Brothers, sisters, aunties, uncles, grandparents, step-siblings, step-mothers, step-fathers, then, more importantly(?) mums and dads.
I don't know how people can lose contact with parents purposefully. They're so there, so in your face that it's impossible to imagine life without them. I suppose I've got a very small family comparably, and I still live at home, but even to imagine life without my father it's hard. That's me talking now, when I'm not even living with him, and even after I went through depression, and came close to suicide because of his actions. I still love him, admire him, and respect him. He is the one person closest in personality to me in this world, and that may be the reason I found myself unable to tear our bond. I can fucking hate him sometimes, but there is not one moment in my life I have lost respect for him.
Everyone in the family I live with gets a 'love you' each day, and without that I don't think some of us would get by. Being emotionally separate from family is something I can't understand. I only have a few relatives though; they're my brother, my sister, my mother, and my father, and then I have one great aunt in England, who I've met a total of two times. So you can imagine, the family I have... we're pretty close knit.
But that does not mean we don't argue. The other day... two nights ago, actually, I was on the phone to my boyfriend, and it was the night before the last day of school. (Which yes, means that today is a holiday. I am very much looking forward to the rest of this holidays, though today has constisted of eating Easter eggs, Mi Goreng, and cereal, while lounging around watching Harry Potter) But anyway, it was getting late, I was meant to be off the phone at around 10:45, but it was around half an hour to an hour later, and I was in the family room. My brother came out to get a glass of water or something, and saw I was still on the phone. His immediate reaction? To go to the power switch, and flick it off. The phone disconnected. In the middle of the fucking conversation.
I came so close to attacking him, I figure I have amazing self control. But not so amazing as to stop what I did next. I went to my room, led in my bed and attempted to steam off my anger for a little while. It didn't work. I picked up my phone and sent him a text. "My brother is a faggot douche fuckwit pussy. Hope you appreciate it. Love you. xx" (Grammar isn't my strong point in texts at near-midnight.) I figured locking my door would be a good idea, and it was; he came to my door, appeared to attack it, from the sound, then informed me he was telling mum. So today is my second day of being banned from the phone.
A trivial thing to get worked up about, but I feel a lot calmer than I did before any of it happened; it was good to let off a little steam I gather.
I do slightly regret it though.
Everyone has a different opinion though.
That's what blogs are for.
Thanks for reading.
Brittany.