I was thinking recently about something that a friend said to me a while ago. He said I was one of the only people he knew that he felt like he wouldn't be surprised by anything I said. He basically said that whether I said I was a secret axe murderer or a white witch or a Mexican wrestler none of that would surprise him.
It was only upon reflection that I realised I am actually extremely complimented by this. It felt, in some small way, like someone was acknowledging my infinite potential to be or do anything-that I was a person who had the capacity to be odder or bolder or more different to how I might immediately appear. I'm actually pretty delighted to think of it.
I have always had a degree of pride in my oddness. What I lack in body confidence or ability to flirt I make up for in bizarre personality traits and hobbies and an immature sense of humour. I sometimes worry I will never stop being the wild-card girlfriend to more normal guys but I like at least that it makes me memorable. I feel that people appreciate my oddness and my ability to own it, but sometimes don't realise just how normal I am underneath. I still want a lot of the same things, I still want people to see how really am, not just the quirks that they think define me.
To know that anyone out there thinks that I might be capable of anything means that there is someone who realises how you cannot really know a person, however much they might seem to wear their personality on their sleeve. Perhaps that's why I liked it so much. To know that someone, without even trying to get me, or even meaning to, kind of just perfectly did.
Sunday 26 January 2014
Sunday 19 January 2014
Just one kiss
Kiss me 'til I don't know who I am anymore.
So I forget that I feel empty sometimes.
So I don't have a chance to worry how inadequate I am,
or if I love you or not,
or where this is going.
Kiss me so that all I know is lips on my lips,
your hand on my cheek,
the darkness inside my eyelids,
and the beat of my heart.
Stop thinking.
Just kiss me.
So I forget that I feel empty sometimes.
So I don't have a chance to worry how inadequate I am,
or if I love you or not,
or where this is going.
Kiss me so that all I know is lips on my lips,
your hand on my cheek,
the darkness inside my eyelids,
and the beat of my heart.
Stop thinking.
Just kiss me.
Saturday 18 January 2014
Message to my secret admirer
I expected your identity would not still be a secret.
It has been nearly three months since the beautiful flowers arrived on my doorstop.
My mum called me dying to open the accompanying card and find out who was responsible.
When I saw the little pot of tiny white roses my heart skipped a beat.
At first I thought they were from my grandmother (the only person ever to have sent me flowers before) but the card put that thought out of my mind.
The handwriting was disguised and the message was in simple block capitals
'HAPPY BIRTHDAY. LOVE FROM AN ADMIRER. X'
My name on the envelope held no clue either. Only that the person called me Kat, and that they knew where I lived.
If you are reading this my oh so secretive friend, I have no hope to guess who you are. I have wracked and wracked my brain and still your identity evades me. If you still wish to keep your secrecy, know that you made my year.
Never have I been so delighted and complemented.
And should I never get to say so in person, thank-you for the most thoughtful birthday gift I have received... probably ever.
It has been nearly three months since the beautiful flowers arrived on my doorstop.
My mum called me dying to open the accompanying card and find out who was responsible.
When I saw the little pot of tiny white roses my heart skipped a beat.
At first I thought they were from my grandmother (the only person ever to have sent me flowers before) but the card put that thought out of my mind.
The handwriting was disguised and the message was in simple block capitals
'HAPPY BIRTHDAY. LOVE FROM AN ADMIRER. X'
My name on the envelope held no clue either. Only that the person called me Kat, and that they knew where I lived.
If you are reading this my oh so secretive friend, I have no hope to guess who you are. I have wracked and wracked my brain and still your identity evades me. If you still wish to keep your secrecy, know that you made my year.
Never have I been so delighted and complemented.
And should I never get to say so in person, thank-you for the most thoughtful birthday gift I have received... probably ever.
Beautiful but boring
Being a literature student I think a lot about the combination of aesthetic and intrigue. Just as the words in poetry or the short story are most beautiful when their meaning is expressive so too are many things in life. Form without substance is the most disappointing thing we can encounter in life.
Art has this same problem for me, so often someone can paint, or draw, or make something beautiful, but if it doesn't intrigue, seduce or make you feel something, the beauty is rendered worthless.
What got me thinking about this was a chat I had with a friend of mine. He was out for the night and when I asked him how it went the next day he said he shifted a gorgeous girl but said she was excruciatingly boring. It reminded me of similar problems I've had in my own love life. I am not a picky person, I'm very easy going but the top thing that attracts me is interesting people. I just am not attracted unless a person has a bit of personality. I went on two dates with a really fantastic guy a while back. He was gorgeous, funny, chatty, interested in film and he could drive. My best friend thought he was the perfect man. I felt zero spark. He just wasn't...interesting enough for me.
While my taste in men thus far has been boys with long eyelashes who look vaguely unemployable the other common denominator is that they have each been odd in their own way. Even the ones who looked more or less normal! I think oddness is the spice of life and I'd rather spend time with someone who's a little bit different than a model any day!
Beautiful but boring may appeal in the mainstream media but I think in art and in people substance is essential. I'm pretty open with my oddness, but not everyone can wear it on their sleeve. I think the only thing more exciting than meeting a really good-looking person is when you discover they're also weird as hell! You can be as tall dark and handsome as you like but unless you secretly read comics, or obsess over performance art, or knit or dance like an electrocuted fish then where's the fun in that?
Art has this same problem for me, so often someone can paint, or draw, or make something beautiful, but if it doesn't intrigue, seduce or make you feel something, the beauty is rendered worthless.
What got me thinking about this was a chat I had with a friend of mine. He was out for the night and when I asked him how it went the next day he said he shifted a gorgeous girl but said she was excruciatingly boring. It reminded me of similar problems I've had in my own love life. I am not a picky person, I'm very easy going but the top thing that attracts me is interesting people. I just am not attracted unless a person has a bit of personality. I went on two dates with a really fantastic guy a while back. He was gorgeous, funny, chatty, interested in film and he could drive. My best friend thought he was the perfect man. I felt zero spark. He just wasn't...interesting enough for me.
While my taste in men thus far has been boys with long eyelashes who look vaguely unemployable the other common denominator is that they have each been odd in their own way. Even the ones who looked more or less normal! I think oddness is the spice of life and I'd rather spend time with someone who's a little bit different than a model any day!
Beautiful but boring may appeal in the mainstream media but I think in art and in people substance is essential. I'm pretty open with my oddness, but not everyone can wear it on their sleeve. I think the only thing more exciting than meeting a really good-looking person is when you discover they're also weird as hell! You can be as tall dark and handsome as you like but unless you secretly read comics, or obsess over performance art, or knit or dance like an electrocuted fish then where's the fun in that?
Friday 10 January 2014
She's the girl
She's the girl you used to laugh with, until her happiness made you feel inadequate. She's the girl you used to talk boys with, 'til you couldn't bear to hear her talk about a certain boy. She's the girl you used to dance around with, 'til you started to think she was much more fun than you. She's the girl you used to tell her how amazing she looked, until he thought she looked better than you. She's the girl you loved to be around, until being around her reminded you of him. She's the girl who was your best friend while she was one of his, and now she's the girl who was more than you. Now all the things you like best about her remind her of all the reasons he would like her better, and that's one more thing that can never be the same again.
Thursday 2 January 2014
A lucky find
Sometimes it's surprising what can help you heal. Comfort can come from the most unlikely of places. Recently, I've been having a rough spell and I haven't wanted to log on here for fear of giving too much of myself away. There are some things I don't want people to see me as, and depression is not an outfit I wear well.
Luckily, I sought comfort in the right place, a friend not only cuddled me, and let me pick the movies, and let me eat what I wanted without judging glances. A friend who cooked me a meal I wouldn't be allergic to, even though it took him forever to find ingredients that wouldn't bother my stomach. A friend who told me I was beautiful with no ulterior motive, let me talk about my ex like it was ok to still be sad over it, who reminded me what friendship was and through his made me realise just how many people like that I had in my life.Sometimes you forget what it's like to have someone who'll drive you home even when they're tired, or who'll sit through a programme they hate because they know it might make you smile, someone who will reply to your messages straight away because they know it makes you nervous when people don't. This is someone who made me take a compliment because I was forced to admit that he would never lie to me. It is rare to find someone who will never lie, best friends don't always tell the whole truth because we love each other and there are some things you should never say because you know they cannot be forgotten. It is rare to have a friend who is not jealous of some part of you or of whom you are not jealous, so I was lucky to have this person in my life.
I realise much of this blog has become increasingly sappy but I feel some people are due a tribute, others an explanation, and some are just people I need to process in my mind. It's easier to say it to the blank white page than to a smiling face that will never realise how much it has meant to you. Because there are some times when I love you simply doesn't tell the person what you mean.
Luckily, I sought comfort in the right place, a friend not only cuddled me, and let me pick the movies, and let me eat what I wanted without judging glances. A friend who cooked me a meal I wouldn't be allergic to, even though it took him forever to find ingredients that wouldn't bother my stomach. A friend who told me I was beautiful with no ulterior motive, let me talk about my ex like it was ok to still be sad over it, who reminded me what friendship was and through his made me realise just how many people like that I had in my life.Sometimes you forget what it's like to have someone who'll drive you home even when they're tired, or who'll sit through a programme they hate because they know it might make you smile, someone who will reply to your messages straight away because they know it makes you nervous when people don't. This is someone who made me take a compliment because I was forced to admit that he would never lie to me. It is rare to find someone who will never lie, best friends don't always tell the whole truth because we love each other and there are some things you should never say because you know they cannot be forgotten. It is rare to have a friend who is not jealous of some part of you or of whom you are not jealous, so I was lucky to have this person in my life.
I realise much of this blog has become increasingly sappy but I feel some people are due a tribute, others an explanation, and some are just people I need to process in my mind. It's easier to say it to the blank white page than to a smiling face that will never realise how much it has meant to you. Because there are some times when I love you simply doesn't tell the person what you mean.
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