To My (L) Bear.

This is a brief insight to my love and passion for a certain talented girl, this is for you, my heart was made for you and every breath taken is to ensure I’m around to make you happy or to give you a shoulder to cry on…or to (at least) try and make you laugh with my silly quirks or silly faces.

When I first started talking to you in the changing rooms at dancing, I never thought that in a million years we’d be where we are today. It was fate! And not only did I find a friend that I could truly confide in, trust and unconditionally love, I found someone who would love me back; accept me for who I am and edit all my English coursework before handing it in for marking.

Without you, I’d die... We’re the special two… Being with you feels like home! (I love the mix tapes you made me) But on an even more serious note, I do feel as though I’ve found the one person who will always understand me; the one who will always be there for me to keep me safe and give me cuddles in the rain.

We have so many cherished memories together…the two benches that are ours! The meals out, the long nights in…I have enough to

last me a lifetime but I know that I would need you there throughout, otherwise I might forget something or get the facts wrong. Although we have already shared plenty I know that it isn’t going to end here and that together we have so much more to experience, as individuals and as a couple.

I told you earlier tonight that I had trouble expressing emotions through words and I guess I’ve sort of shown it up to now… I guess in a way I just wrote to say how much I love you. I never saw love as something that would grasp a hold of me, but once again you’ve proved me wrong. I know that I don’t tell you enough how beautiful you are, in the sun, when it’s just been raining. Or when you’ve just woken up and you’re eyes are slightly dewy but you look adorable and your hair smells minty.

I miss you far too much, but I know you will be off one day to sail the seven seas and seek your fortune, don’t ever worry you’ll make it, you’ll win! And I’ll always be here for you, waiting, because you are the reason for my existence, I was created to love you. I still don’t think you quite understand every inch of my feelings towards you but I’m planning to live for a while, so you’ve got some time to fully figure me out.

I, on the other hand, know what you feel for me. You tell me enough! :) I’m glad you do, and I’m also glad when you tell me what you hate about me, it makes me feel human. It makes our partnership and love feel real. I hope you don’t think I’m using the word ’love’ too freely, but I do think the English dictionary could do with inventing a new word to describe strong (good) passionate feelings towards another person, instead of adding pointless ’chavvy’ words that disgrace the population of Britain as a whole…

Either way, I know that without you my heart would break and my life would be a lost, unfulfilled, immature nothingness. You are me and I am you. Friends always no matter what and I know I’ll never stop loving you. First. Last. Forever. For Good <3

Being Ginger.

So I guess I haven't really told you much about my physical self. I certainly haven't told you that I'm ginger. Well, there is a fine line in which people disagree most of the time: some would say I'm 'strawberry blonde' because my hair is lighter and not a harsh ginger, but some could say that I still fall under the big umbrella of ginger. (I would say I do fall under this category, it’s easier to get along with people if you just nod your head politely and smile.)

Moving into high school, I found that people were immature and, believe it or not, mocked me for it. Life was hell, but now people appreciate it more and compliments are made regularly. In fact, it was only the other week when I was sat in Costa having a coffee and two little old ladies politely came up to me and asked whether my hair was naturally coloured like it is… I said yes, they complimented and tottered off with their eyes fixed to my hair - my girlfriend, sat opposite, was in stitches.

As well as the individuality of being ginger, I also like the nicknames that typically come with it. ('Firebird' being the most liked on my part.) It just seems to give me a flare and flash of inspiration to give all of my energy and effort into everything I do. There are also the ‘traits’ that are associated with being ginger, much to my liking and agreement. This does apply to being fiery and hot-headed at times with a short temper and being a control freak, but I enjoy those because it makes me, me! There’s also the saying of how gingers are ‘good’ in bed… If you ever come into a relationship with a ginger then you'll have the chance to judge for yourself.

I can’t really separate myself from the rest of society because I’m ginger, but I am a mutation, an adaptation, an evolution? Who knows, all I know is I’m sunburnt, freckly and proud.

The boy I call my father...

I don't know why, but I have no connection with my Father. He's distant to me - a nobody. Just someone I share a house with. (I can't wait to move out). It's like he's never had any interest in my life and I don't think he ever will, unless I come into a large amount of money and he wishes to purchase the latest Aston Martin. It's almost as if he didn't really want me, like a Dad who wanted a boy and got a girl. I don't really want him to hate me; when I was younger we were close and he was my friend, but as soon as I turned about 10 he just lost interest. It's always seemed that he expected me to turn into this crazy, uncontrollable, hormonal teenager and to be fair, I am at times, but not to the scale he was preparing for. I prefer to hold it in and unleash it all on a close friend who's willing to listen.

I don't want to come across as big headed but I've always thought he was jealous. Jealous of the fact that I am smarter than him, or that I was born into a generation of freedom and one which can express their views without being beaten or cursed at. He never was the brightest in the bunch and yeah, he's good at maths and carving things out of wood, but that's his limit in reality. He just won't accept that a teenage girl can out-speak him or demoralise him. My Father doesn't realise that, on most occasions, I am right and I know it. He also fails to see how hypocritical and judgmental he is: how he is stuck in his own ways and no-one can say a word against his views without being criticised about it.

I know my Mother can see it too. We have a bitching session about him more often than not and we agree on how we view him. I think that I don't see him as a Father is because he's never grown up. In my eyes, he's a boy because he's afraid: afraid of reality; afraid of who I am; afraid of what I've become. This is something which makes me less scared of him. I've not as yet had the courage to say everything I don't feel for him, but that's only because I am grateful of what he has provided me with over the years.

It may seem harsh but if my Mother left him I wouldn't cry. I'd encourage her, I wouldn't blink an eye because to me he's just someone I have to call my Father due to political correctness. Genetically he made me, but it's every other man who was in my life I have to thank because he showed me nothing of what a Father should be.

Everything seems good today.

Since the day is nearly over and I wish to post another blog before tomorrow begins I would just like to say how lovely today has been. I don't often find that days run so smoothly, especially for me. I'm not sure whether it's just a form of bad luck for me or something but days never quite go according to plan. There's always somthing to dampen my day, whether it's that guilty feeling you get at the end of the day when you know you've lied to someone's face or the fact that you're computer packs in half way through something really important...

Either way I find that I never have one single day where I'm smiling throughout and yet here I am, happy as larry because the last two days have been so perfect. Ok so the British weather has not been at it's prime (but when is it?). I've just found that when everything seems to be done and there isn't any jobs that need doing, I'm able to sit back and enjoy life. It's ashame that everything isn't free and we all just can't get on with life by living without cares and happily spending time with loved ones. Maybe that's why older people get so excited about retirement, so they can do bugger all and not have to worry about bills or work.

Ok, I know the feeling won't last, but atleast I can sit here knowing that even though the worst is yet to come, I'll still face it with a smile on my face and a spring in my step because everything seems good today...

Ok, so this is new...

I have never really found myself as a 'blog' person but since I started to read my girlfriend's blog I have found myself rather compelled to write. Naturally I have no true writing flair and haven't a clue what to write about (ideas are more than welcome) but I still feel a need to be able to express my thoughts and feelings about the developing world around me in a semi-controlled manner.

I suppose I could have a ramble about inspiration. After all, it is what I am lacking at the moment. I have nothing, it seems that no matter how many times I peer around my room or browse the internet for the most random things, whether that be a children's TV programme or the plot of the last Eastenders episode, I still fail at finding something (yes, I did search both of those earlier).

As someone who is constantly searching for a sign or a breakthrough in knowledge I do tend to find that a lot of the time I fail. I mean I'm not the next Einstein and I'm certainly not setting out to follow the footsteps of Vivienne Westwood, but to have a flash, one tiny speck of their inspiration would be just a little bit thrilling for me right now. I don't know whether you've ever felt this before but no matter how hard you search for something you never seem to find it. Oh and just for the fact that it annoys me everytime; whoever said that the thing you're looking for is always in the last place you look should be sued for beating sarcasm in the race to becoming THE lowest form of wit. Ofcourse it is!! You wouldn't continue searching for something once you've found it.

Anyway back to the matter in hand... Inspiration! The food of life, which nurture our souls so that we may find true calling (yadda, yadda, yadda). I will find it one day, I will I promise and then I won't stop writing for weeks on end because it will just roll off my tongue as if I owned the words themselves. With inspiration everyone seems to find themselves, sort of like finding a really comfy pair of shoes which you never seem to grow out of and hold on for years on end. I guess at this moment in time I do know where I stand in this world, but not through inspiration. Whether this is starting to bore you or confuse you I'm not sure, but all I know is that even though we yearn to find the one thing we, as unique individuals, have to stand out from the rest of the population it is not to be found unless we search for it. So even though we may view inspiration as an act of fate or coincidence, I believe it is out there for everyone to discover in their own unique moment in time.

I'll make sure I'll tell you if that moment ever arrives but I don't see it happening too close in the future to be frank... That's another thing, why is it frank? Why not Michael or Robert or Steven or James??