What I’ll miss

Late caffeinated induced nights
With a gloomy morning to follow
Reminding me that with every deadline met
Two more follow

Loud crowds of people who don’t care
The people who waste time
Who try to waste my time
Intimidating and infuriating

Long bus journeys
That are too high for my budget
But three nights on my own
Would never be worth it

Are all things I will never miss
But that I needed to experience
Coming hand in hand
With all things good

Like early morning walks to the beach
With short classes that encourage group work
Lab filled days with lunch orders
And rotated coffee loyalty cards passed around

Being able to walk everywhere
But also being able to walk home
And close off the world
Without having to report to anyone

Optimistic people
Encouragement from everyone

It’s what I’ll miss when I leave
For my last time


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I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings

This year, I had a clash in my timetable so I had to alter it. I had previously picked a module that links in well with my other ones. However, because I had to change it, I ended up in a pretty random class. I had never deviated away from the classes that I know how to structurally write for. All over, I thought it was hard because I had to reflect and think, rather than memorise and repeat. I really enjoyed it. It was the first time in a while that I found myself reading the assigned readings because I wanted to, rather than I had to.
This poem stuck with me. It was one of the first times I read poetry as art instead of homework. I hope you like it as much as I did.
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
A free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wing
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.
But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.
The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn
and he names the sky his own
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

Sailing away

This post is the last thing I’ll write in my home before I move for summer. Between yesterday and today, my three housemates have packed up their things and left and yes. . . .there was a lot of tears. I’m to follow tomorrow, after a whole day of strenuous packing. Who knew my whole college life “only” fitted into eight bin bags, two suitcases and three backpacks. It’s a sad goodbye this time, because we’ll never live together again, because of the structure of our courses. Erasumus, placement, project and final year all don’t really cross paths too much. But it’s more of a bitter sweet goodbye. I’m incredibly happy to see not only my housemates, but the majority of my friends follow their passions and increase their work drive. However, here I am. And here I’m going to be when September comes.

I’m not sad that I didn’t opt for another year, that was 100% my decision and I know it.
I’m not sad that my friends are leaving because I know I’ll keep in touch with every single one of them with group chats, Skype calls and journeys to each other.
I’m not sad that I’m leaving my home with so many good memories because I’ll always have them, and there’s no point sticking around on my own.
I’m not sad I’m moving back with my parents this summer as I have a really good relationship with them and don’t feel trapped because I have so many incredible friends and family to catch up with and keep me entertained.

No, I’m not sad.
I’m scared.
I’m scared because I have to do it all over again.

The friendships I’ve formed and solidified over the past two years are not going to be here when I return. I’m being dropped into a year group who have come back from abroad, along with some from my original year who I never knew. I have to make friends again, just like those terrifying few months at the beginning of first year. I had brilliant friends at home, but it was hard finding some who even slightly lived up to them. But I did it, and I have to do it all over again which is incredibly hard. I won’t have my comfort blanket of people whose habits I’ve gotten used to on nights out and days in. I’ll have all these relationships within typing distance, but I’m on my own again. I know I do have friends left here, but they’re on entirely different schedules to me so I don’t know exactly how much I’ll see of them. There’s only a handful in my subjects that I’d chat to, with an even lesser amount of people who I love to spend time with, or rather who would want to spend time with me.

But I know I’ve done it before. I have my incredible friends from first year. I have made friends from my first week in first year with people I still keep in touch with, but that was in an atmosphere where first years wanted to meet new friends and had the time to do it. I’m stepping into my final year with serious students who already have their friends.

Not to mention it takes a while for me to open up. That’s a huge flaw on my behalf, which I acknowledge. It doesn’t stop me from freezing up from embarrassing stories, or the terror I feel if anyone mentions this blog or why I do certain things or why I don’t like hugs or watching movies. My progress of this has ceased and I have to start that again. My one step forward took two steps back and now I don’t know where I even stand.

So yes. I’m happy for my friends moving away, I’m happy for my friends who are staying, I’m happy for my future and I’m happy for summer to begin and I know once September begins I’ll have the fresh excitement of the endless possibilities of meeting new friends and catching up with the beloved ones I already knew and stayed in my house and experienced me.
For now I’m sad and scared and I don’t feel like cheering myself up today. But I will leave these doors with happy tears instead of sad from memories of birthdays, not birthdays, craft sessions, pre drinks, pancakes, and absolutely everything and everyone who ever stepped foot in the house has given me good memories, even if they didn’t live here (all the time).
I’m okay being sad, because I know the incredible people I shared this year with are reading this, and to answer your message you’ll more than likely send me;
“Thank you for your concern, but of course this is just a blog post.”
Despite my real answer wanting to be;
“Thank you for always supporting me, and these words don’t do my heart justice for just how amazing this year has been with each and every one of you. I’m not scared of losing you, because of the simple reason that you’re even reading my blog post and I feel comfortable with that.”

Here is me and all my emotions,
Love from EimzPink of The High Seas.


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My Dream Job

To be asked my dream job is my most dreaded question. It creates a churning in my stomach which feels like I shouldn’t be able to stand straight.
But I can.
Which means I have to answer.
My honest truth is that I don’t have an answer. I’ve never had an answer.
I mentioned in a previous post how a teacher asked me my dream job when I was about seven and I had no answer and her reaction was spiteful that I didn’t automatically want to be a teacher. This feeling has stayed with me any time I ever hear that question. I’m expected to have an answer, but I don’t. People aren’t okay with this. I don’t know why. Anytime I’ve ever said I don’t know what I want to be, people take it as an invitation to tell me what to do. My problem is I don’t want to settle for just one thing because I haven’t found one thing I’d like to settle with. This also apparently isn’t an accepted answer either.

Despite the fact I don’t have an accepted answer, I’ve decided to face my fears and go through my time line of aspirations.

I decided I wanted to be a dolphin trainer. I loved anything aquatic or marine like growing up. My bed room was designed like the ocean because I loved it so much. However, as I grew up I learned the words “Marine Biologist” and fell in love even more with the science of nature. Buuuut I took too many science classes and my love for the ocean faded and drifted and turned into almost hatred in regards to class tests and definitions and competition to be the best. My opinion on the sea changed when I was a bit older for a number of reasons, which I may talk about at some point. I now preferred looking at it and having total control over anything it did to me. So I didn’t pursue science to become any type of “-ologist”. I don’t know if I regret that or not.

I’ve thought about being a social worker. I had the privilege of growing up in a loving household and I liked the idea of being able to give that to someone who deserved it. I probably had a clouded vision of what a social worker was by tv shows like Tracey Beaker and Charmed. It seemed like an important job that got action done. However, when I looked into it it was much different. I talked to someone who did the course and they seemed exhausted over what they weren’t told. I talked to people who worked with social workers who told me they did more bad than good because of the “rules” they had to follow and could not make any exceptions to. It seemed grim and lengthy and not the type of rewarding I wanted from a job. I don’t think I regret not pursing this.

I’ve thought about being a career guidance teacher. Ironic, trust me I know. I liked the idea of figuring someone out and matching them to the lifestyle they desired. Yes, ironic I still know. I never had good guidance teachers in school, so I knew the different tactics I would use to the ones I was given. To teach actually never appealed to me and I have a whole post on that. So I don’t regret not following this career as I was kinda only using it as a cop out for being indecisive.

I’ve thought about being a lawyer, similar to most of my potential jobs I liked the idea of being important and in charge. Lawyers are smart and critical and cutting and tactful. I was told by a barrister that my personality would suit a lawyer, and surprisingly he wasn’t referring to legally blonde. I never looked too much into this career rather than just chatting to the few people I knew in law. There wasn’t much option for them after. That scared me.

I’ve thought about being a writer. But I know that will never be more than a thought. I don’t want to write as my career involving deadlines and word counts without freedom or full control. I’ve never let myself think too deeply about this one.

I’ve thought about being a Cryptographer. Solving codes and queries using algorithms and intelligence was one aspect of information technology that actually stood out to me. But it’s a long way to get there. Tedious and draining and something I won’t be qualified to do. There’s no demand and no support for this job that you have to be top ranking to even be considered a job. I liked the idea of hacking and working undercover for the government more than I liked the idea of studying for something as hard as this.

I’ve thought about being a Tour Guide, an Illustrator, an editor, an Analyst, a developer, a dietitian, a nutritionist, something with Irish, something that makes people happy, something that has good time off, something that lets me travel and absolute countless occupations while even deciding should I go to third level education or not. And I still don’t have an answer.

To to save both you and the stress, if you ever ask me what I want to be…. please don’t.


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Halloween in The High Seas


Happy Halloween Everyone!
This year, I’m living in a house with three of my most favourite people ever. Our house is up stairs and along with a private joke, we called it The High Seas. Although we are a student house, there’s no reason why we can’t decorate the house… right?
Last week, two of my housemates were gone out. So being the cool college kids, us two left behind had the brilliant idea to go buy pumpkins!

Well, we’re not too sure why.
But we did it anyway!

Throwing all responsibilities and duties aside, we set out pumpkin hunting.

The first shop we went to had some very sad looking pumpkins, so we decided against them. (Even though I did feel bad for leaving them behind). Instead, we bought some window decorations and were SO excited to get them that everyone else in the purchase queue let us pass them by as they saw how excited we were.

I’m really not kidding.

The second shop we went to had a lot more variety in pumpkins, so naturally we were even more excited, and received many judge-y looks when we squealed. I fell in love with a perfectly orange but weirdly shaped small pumpkin. We also opted for a medium sized one too. After paying for our pumpkins in copper coins, we headed home.

We decided to not tell our other housemates, so here is a picture of us being mysterious outside the shop.


We got down to carving straight away. Using all the blunt student knifes and weird spoons we could find whilst wearing disney ears and listening to the halloween playlist on spotify, we spent almost two hours drawing, carving, removing pumpkin gunk and styling our masterpieces. 
IMG_4194 IMG_4191

Although my original plan of a cat design failed, I opted for a bat and it wasn’t the worst thing in the world! My roomie went for a pretty terrifying face and they both actually turned out quite well!

We played the Jaws theme song with the lights off when the other half of our housemates arrived home and we’re still not too sure if they were impressed or not!

However, after this experience, we learned quite a few things;

1. The two of us shouldn’t be left without supervision.

2. Candle flames burn the top of the pumpkin when the top is left on.

3. In ancient Ireland, pumpkins didn’t exist and they carved turnips, according to my mother. So we bought a turnip for 85 cent and carved him too. He fits in quite well and we named it Grainne.

IMG_4197   IMG_4223

4. Our other two housemates still haven’t realised we left the pumpkin guts in a bucket outside.

5. People in shops are really nice and supportive to two teenagers buying halloween decorations at ten o clock at night.

I hope everyone has had as much fun decorating as we did!


I was never really a city girl. Sure, I had all the fantasies of living in a luxurious apartment overlooking street lights and artificial nature. I mean, who didn’t? The dream life was waking up, grabbing a coffee from an overpriced shop and zipping to my fantasy job.

I don’t even like coffee.

I currently live in a city. It’s handy. It’s close to loads of shops. It’s accessible and near any building I could ever want. I have giant yellow beams guiding my way home every dark night. It’s all very new and modern. It feels like christmas lights are always following me. All my friends live less than fifteen minutes away. I get to walk by the river each bright morning and each neon night. There’s always someplace interesting to be, or someone interesting to see. It’s impossible to be bored here

Yet. . .

Yet. . . I miss calm. Wow, I sound like the coolest college kid ever.

But I do. I miss the stars. I miss not crossing a billion traffic lights to get to one shop. I miss the sounds crickets. I miss the sky not having a constant orange hue due to light pollution. I miss no cars on the road or no lines to guide them. I miss having animals around me.

I’m happy, in a sense, that I’m in Galway instead of an actual big city. Galway is filled with lights and parades and excitement. However, it does have it’s own secret nooks and crannies which would only be there for those who look for them. They bring the peace back, even just for a little while. It doesn’t beat waking up to the sounds of a million birds, or counting the beams given off by a nearby light house to make me sleepy.

Galway is a pretty place. I just miss my own pretty place.

NUI Galway- Come at me bro!

My summer has been so hectic this year, I haven’t even had time to process the fact that it’s almost over. 
Results day has come and gone, and I’m not ashamed to admit that I didn’t get my first choice of University. However, as much as I had convinced myself that I was heading East to Dublin, it never actually seemed real. I wasn’t the type of student who had their heart set on a certain course, I just chose it simply because I didn’t dislike it. I didn’t fall in love with the course, or the campus, or the area. Nevertheless, I was slightly disappointed when results day came, because I knew I didn’t get Dublin. However, I was soon on a plane and flying to Spain so I didn’t really get time to think about not getting it. By disappointed, I mean I realised that I wasn’t disappointed at myself for not getting the course. I was disappointed to admit that the course I’ve been reciting off to people since Easter just wasn’t going to happen. I was disappointed for others reactions. . . not my own. I was disappointed that I would have to change my story. 

“So what course did you get?”
“I’m going to Galway!”
“I thought you wanted Dublin?”

This was the conversation I was dreading. And I was so wrapped up in my thoughts of how to explain to other people that I didn’t get Dublin that I forgot to explain to myself that in literally a week I was going to university. It was always a phrase that was tossed in the air- “This time next year we’ll be in college!” But I never thought the day would actually come where I only return home for holidays. Three of my cousins and my sister all repeated their last year in Secondary school because they didn’t get their desired choice. So in my mind, this was what I was going to end up doing. But, I got my points needed, so there was no need to repeat. This is a good thing by the way, to anyone who is not familiar with the Irish education system. 

I’m scared. There’s no doubt about that. I’m officially leaving my home- and officially leaving my comfort zone. All my plans had been thrown out the window and rearranged in the short space of a week. But as of today, I am a registered Arts student in the National University of Ireland, Galway. 

So c’mon Uni, do your worst!