Dear My March

Dear March,

Sometimes months move so quickly that suddenly it is the end and I have forgotten to write this. March, I can sum you up this year as a blur. I had so much going on, and it has not died down yet. You are kind of an awkward stage of the year March, and I mean that in the nicest way possible…I promise.

When I think of you, the only thing that comes to mind is the colour red, and the birthdays contained in March. I do not really know why I think of red. March has just always been red to me.

For the birthdays, it is two of my close family and two of my friends and one of my not friend. March is a busy month of giving myself to people. Dedicating time for them, their present, and spending time with them. It never really bothered me until this year when I had so much else to do. I could not dedicate the same amount of time to them as I would usually do. March, this made me feel kind of shitty. What is worse, is that I felt so bad that it made me feel so bad and that I was made to feel bad. March, I wish I could spend you with people I adore.

However, March, I had to be selfish this month. This is something that I do not feel comfortable doing. Especially in a month that never felt like it belonged to me. I booked holidays and spent nights in working on myself and my grades. I felt really good about it.

I made a lot of friends this month March. I got so much closer with my class because of late night bonding in our computer lab preparing for assignments, presentations, interviews, and demonstrations together. It felt nice. It felt so good to talk to people in the exact same situation as I am in. It felt like home in those labs and I do not think any other time in my college experience could compare to the camaraderie and companionship in that room. I am so sad it only happened in my last few weeks. But I am so happy that it did happen.

For the first time in a long time I felt like I was part of a team. I was not being dragged along or controlling anything. My strengths were used along with the strengths of others and I felt so happy in college. I felt strong. I stood up in the front of my class who all stood up in front of me and we told each other our passion projects we have been working on since September. I did not feel like I was talking to a group of eyes. I was talking to my team who only wanted me to do well.

I can confidentially say I did well, even if my results do not agree, I know I did well. I had a team ready to help and prompt me if I needed it, just like I had prompted and helped them.

March, I have never felt like you were mine. But this year I found a home in you. That was even better than any present I gave anyone.

 

I think we’re even now,

Eimear xo

P.S. It’s now my birthmonth

instagram Screen Shot 2017-04-01 at 19.54.35.pngtwitter pinterest | tumblr 

Pinterest Appreciation

I never really realised how much I used Pinterest until I started recommending it to people. Originally, I was only on it to follow people and get photos. However, somehow it has become one of my favourite apps. It became my sort of “wind down app” before bed.. if that makes sense.

I don’t have the pressure of being “online” like facebook, nor do I have to engage in much like tumblr or youtube. But on Pinterest, I can just scroll and save pretty things. It’s nice.

Recently, I’ve been trying to pay attention to my nutrition intake and my pinterest board had helped me by just being able to refer to it.

It is also filled with endless writing prompts... which is pretty fun.

One day in class my teacher asked who used Pinterest, and no one put their hand up. It was a majority male class so I didn’t want to be the only one to admit to even knowing what this website was. But I’m not ashamed!

Pinterest appreciation! 

53032230b2f55306289d96e0f43c8c18

instagram | twitter | pinterest | tumblr 

Falling

Falling in love has been as easy as falling to me
It’s not

I’m tall so I don’t have to wear heels
My confidence doesn’t come from having someone else to support me

I hate the idea of everyone looking at you being vulnerable
Exposing so much of myself to one person is unthinkable to me

The thought of not being able to control my own body is terrifying
Or having someone else want to be near it is just as bad

To fail at something so simple as walking is demoralising
So my brain tells me that it’s not worth it

I’m concentrating so much on my feet that I have forgotten to look up
I forget that I should just be naturally able to do it

I’ve never been a clumsy person
But sometimes I wish I was

image1-380x251

instagram | twitter pinterest | tumblr

I’m sick of writing metaphors

I’m sick of writing metaphors
Cryptic thoughts have never been my strong point
The frustration of my reader not exactly knowing my reasons
Outweighs the feeling I have to keep my thoughts hidden
I know it works for other writers
But I never thought it worked for me

When I write about the sky I write about the stars and the galaxy
Not about the galaxy in my head
The ocean comes and goes just like my breath but I’d rather write about the sounds I hear on the beach
I could stick numerous amounts of detailed, eloquent, or revealing words to convey and reveal my vivid thoughts

But I don’t want to

Never have I thought it bothered me but I miss being
Real
Raw
Revealing

Poetry is like dessert to me
Enticing and exciting
But should not be with every meal

My thoughts are my meals
Presentation is not the most important element
But as long as it is there
And tastes satisfactory
Then I’m happy
Screen Shot 2017-02-07 at 19.24.04.png

instagram | twitter pinterest | tumblr

Woah November

Dear November

You flew. I didn’t feel you flying, but now you’re gone. Woah.

Usually throughout the month I decide on a ‘theme’ for the month. I have always done this without even the intent to write about it, so it’s not just particular to my monthly letter series. For August it was “yikes” but that month was horrid, but not miserable. September was “okay” because it was better than August, but not much else. October was “Thank You” because it was a healing month that I made myself aware of by filming and documenting more. Here I am November, and I can’t think of anything else but “woah where did you go?”.

In a way, that theme is very fitting.

The past few months I have almost been overly hyper aware of time passing, and trying to make it pass faster, and suddenly it’s gone and I feel… unchanged. Which isn’t a bad thing. As autumn turns to winter, not much else happened. I watched the Gilmore Girls revival, and absolutely adored it. Otherwise, not much else. November, I never planned on working on myself while you visited. I was happy when you arrived, so I didn’t think I needed anything to change. Sure, we had some hiccups November, but you weren’t around long enough to fight with me. I also cried a lot. I blame Mother Nature for accidentally spilling a bit too much emotion into my mix this month, but I also blame that Gilmore Girls Revival. But damn, I sobbed over almost anything that looked a tiny bit sad or provoked me in any way. I wasn’t used to this at all. My main point is that I’M not sad… (except for the Gilmore Girls part…like SUPER sad over that, as you know November).

I didn’t feel like I had to prove myself this month November. I felt comfortable, and happy, and content, and loved, and secure, and I never even thought about wallowing in self pity.

Thank you for helping me to realise my strength November.
Eimear.

P.S. College is fun, Studying is not.

large

instagram | twitter pinterest | tumblr 

Nostalgic gears

“Short stories are tiny windows into other worlds and other minds and other dreams. They are journeys you can make to the far side of the universe and still be back in time for dinner.”
Neil Gaiman

A long time ago I stopped writing short stories
I never consciously made the decision to stop
Rather, I preferred to write about deep complex characters with long back stories that I knew absolutely everything about
But as I began to write my first short story in probably 4 years my chest swelled up with nostalgic happiness
I used to get an idea and write down as much as I could so I could remember and write and move on to my next project
I had too many notebooks to keep track of and far too many characters and plot holes to maintain
But I was so happy
Each character and each plot hole was filled with so much imagination because of the freedom I had to write about absolutely anything
I like my long stories, my poetry, and my blog posts
But I really love opening the part of my brain that produces short stories
It’s the first time in a long time that the gears in my head are turning as much as they used to and I cannot believe I’ve missed it so much

black-dragon-fight-fire

instagram | twitter pinterest | tumblr 

52

52
Weeks
Of mind rambles
From my brain
Who thought it could never happen
Because her thoughts weren’t significant enough

52
Posts
Received with love
Despite the darkness
Lurking behind every word
Waiting for the failure of a bad post

52
Times
Thoughts were gathered
Frantically edited and published
From gloomy thoughts on gloomy days
When the sun wouldn’t shine

52
Drafts
Hesitantly thought about
Striving for the right word
But settling for a deadline
Is the excuse I gave myself

52
Thoughts
Written half asleep
Too lazy to write down
Or fully give details to
Hoping the later wouldn’t come

52
Deadlines
Creating a structure
That was desperately needed
Proving to myself
I can sometimes be interesting

52
Weeks
After the first
Not much has changed

IMG_7073.JPG

instagram | twitter | pinterest | tumblr