I’m Sorry.

KikiWantsHerCookie:

This is suddenly very relevant again, so….

Originally posted on x KikiWantsHerCookie x:

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry that we hadn’t met sooner.
I’m sorry that we didn’t get on straight away.
I’m sorry that you flicked me with washing up water.
I’m sorry that we argued in class.

I’m sorry that it took me six months to forgive you
I’m sorry that it took me two more months to sit near you.
I’m sorry that it took me another month to talk to you.
I’m sorry that it took me yet another month to consider you my friend.

I’m sorry that I didn’t always laugh at your jokes.
I’m sorry that I didn’t always get your references.
I’m sorry that I didn’t always agree with your opinions.
I’m sorry that I didn’t always understand you.

I’m sorry for the arguments we had.
I’m sorry for the insults we threw at each other.
I’m sorry for the pain we caused.
I’m sorry for New Year’s.

I’m…

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#DearMe

I found this in my drafts from a few weeks ago, so I suppose I ought to upload it x

————–

Hey guys!
So… I know I haven’t uploaded in a while, but I’ve got a lot of stuff going on right now, and I’ve just had no inspiration lately. I hope you can forgive me!

Anyway, today is #DearMe, and I wanted a bit of  that action ;)
So here is my letter to my younger self.

Hey li’l Keeks,
D’you remember your first day at primary school? You were too scared to get on the bus for the first time, so you walked 1.3 miles to get there instead. Not bad for a four year old I guess :)
I remember it so vividly, it was the first time I was allowed along the Track. It’s strange to think that now I know it better than the back of my hand, but back then it was so new. 

The trees arching way overhead; so high that even when I was reaching up on my tippy-toes with my fingers outstretched they seemed as far away as the moon. The multicoloured leaves swirling down, foreshadowing the beginning of Autumn; later I would realise just how much I love it. Twirling and skipping and laughing, with my little red satchel in hand; jumping over the seemingly gigantic tree roots as if they were wooden mountains.

It was my first adventure, and I loved it.

D’you remember your favourite teachers as they were when you first met them? Mrs Roberts, Miss Murphy, Mrs Stillman? They helped you so much. Now we have Miss Cotton, Mrs Hickman, Mr. Locke; and we’ve learned so much more than you could possibly imagine.

D’you remember playing house with Lucy, India and Bradley? That was fun. It was so much simpler making friends back then; You just ask them their name and whether they like ducks.

D’you remember Lydia? We still miss her like crazy, it wasn’t fair that she had to go. We still remember the way she smelled like strawberries, and her little mini mouse ears always plonked on top of her own black pigtails. We still remember playing in the sandpit together and holding the toilet door shut for each other (we were so scared of being locked in!) I’m not sure exactly what has or hasn’t happened, but I hope she’s happy wherever she is.

D’you remember Bridget? It’s thanks to her that we can read braille, or at least we used to be able to. I haven’t had to read anything in braille since she left the school. We miss the letters she used to type for us on her little burgundy typewriter; I wish we’d kept one to put into our memory box. I wish we’d spent more time with her too, teaching her to play football with her jingly, luminous yellow ball.

D’you remember jumping from tree stump to tree stump and scraping your shins?
D’you remember climbing the trees when the teacher on lunchtime duty
D’you remember being proud of the scratches on your arms, the scabs on your knees or elbows,  and the bruises on your legs? It meant fun, excitement, and adventure. 

We still have adventures every day, L’il Keeks; and it’s all because of your friends. Yep, believe it or not, we’re in a friendship group. We belong in a group of friends. Some of which are reading this right now and will probably feel bad for hurrying you to write this post ;)

But it’s okay, we secretly (well, not so secretly anymore) like being hurried to write things for the blog, because it means we’re not the only ones who care about it. It’s really nice being cared about, by the way; but you’ll learn that soon.
As stupid as is sounds? Don’t be afraid of being afraid. Sometimes it’s when you’re at your weakest point that you find your strength, and if you don’t, the people around you will bring it out.

Until next time Li’l Keeks x

Maybe Just Maybe

Maybe we’re destined for greatness.
Maybe it’s fate.
Maybe, no matter how hard we try, we’ll never stray away from our chosen paths.
Maybe we’re just running the tracks.
Maybe it’s karma.
Maybe when we smile, others frown, and vice versa.
Maybe happiness comes at a price.
Maybe it’s just another page in the story.
Maybe we only get so many smiles.
Maybe the ink is running out.
Maybe the page will end without a final word.
Maybe the chapter will finish without an epilogue.
Maybe we’ll cry out for help.
Maybe we’ll keep our sorrows bottled.
Maybe we’ll stare into the darkness, waiting for our eyes to adjust.
Maybe the rage will overcome us.
Maybe the fear will swallow us whole.
Maybe we’ll break.
Maybe we’ll shatter everything until only shards are left.
Maybe we’ll be numb.
Maybe we’ll just be empty.
Maybe, no matter how hard we try, we’ll fail to feel anything.
Maybe we’ll scream until our throats are raw.
Maybe someone will hear us?
Maybe we’re only good enough when we’re gone.
Maybe we’re more than the letters stamped over our future.
Maybe we’ll die with marks on our wrists.
Maybe we’ll perish with burns on our necks.
Maybe we’ll be free when the last pill is swallowed.
Maybe I’ll kiss your tears away.
Maybe I’ll grab your hand and cling on tight.
Maybe I’ll smile enough for both of us, until you find yours again.
Maybe I’ll hug you until you’re whole again.
Maybe you’ll remember how amazing you are.

“What’s the most important lesson you’ve learned in life?”

Recently I discovered that someone I cared about had passed away. Life is really bloody short. He didn’t even get to become an adult, and it’s not fair, it’s really really not fair.

So you take that person you love and you treat them like god damned royalty, you hear me? You might be angry at them, or upset with them, or hurt by them, but in hindsight, does any of it really matter? You are so lucky to have them, and one day you might not, so be thankful for every precious second you have with them. Take every smile, and laugh, and tear, and angry word you can lay your hands on and cherish every single one like it’s your last. Because one day you can’t get any more, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Poof, gone. That’s life. I understand it now, and Jesus Christ I wish I didn’t.

Shaun, you didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve to be unhappy, you didn’t deserve for your life to bee so short.
I won’t forget, okay?
I promise.
I promise I won’t forget the way you treated my brother and I exactly the same way you treated Hayden and Lewis; or the way you protected me like a little sister; or sneaked food from the kitchen for Lewis and I when I stayed for dinner. I won’t forget the way you showed me how to climb trees; or how you taught me how to abseil after I was too scared to do it at Calshot; or how you made me face my fears because otherwise “life wasn’t any fun”. I won’t forget the time you cleaned up my elbow when I fell in the playground; or when we made you get your face painted at the petting zoo and you came back with camouflage paint; or the days out to Intech when you taught Lewis and I about gravity and suction and tornadoes and  photosynthesis.
I was always a tiny bit afraid of you, if I’m honest. You did things the second the idea came into your head, and you never waited around. You had confidence and bravery, and that terrified me. You were the living embodiment of a “glint in the eye”. When you jumped from one tree branch to another one well over four feet away and somehow manage to land it, or build a conservatory for your house “just because”, or swung upside down from the opening of your attic to make us jump- you were always doing things and not just saying them, and I was always in awe.
I think my favourite memories of you will always be the journeys to Intech in my dad’s burgundy seven-seater. It was the only thing that really belonged to us, the family car. There was always my dad and your mum in the front, then it alternated between you, Keelan and Hayden in the normal seats with Lewis and me in the back; or you, me and Lewis in the normal seats and Hayden and Keelan in the back. That was the thing about you. Even though we all wanted to sit in the “super awesome secret” back seats, you always sat in the middle and never caused a fuss. You were literally ‘The Middle Kid’. Hayden was in Keelan’s year, Lewis was in my year, and you were in the year between. But, see, you were never the odd one out. Most kids like that would be on their own, but you managed to be both mine and Keelan’s friend. I have so much respect for you for that. You never picked one or the other, you always treated us both equally.
But anyway.
We would always go to Intech in the summer holidays. There was no question about it. “Intech With The Howcrofts” became a yearly event and I loved it. So much. We had ice poles on the journey over; the blue ones to make our tongues change colour. D’you remember that time Hayden asked if you could eat plastic and we all tried to eat the ice pole wrappers? We were so stupid… but we were kids. Happy kids, too.
What went wrong?
We would get to Intech and clamber out of the car, whooping and screaming. Then we all climbed up onto the car roof and dangled our legs in front of the windshield while our parents paid for the parking. Looking back now, I don’t see how all five of us fit up there; if I remember rightly, I sat on Keelan’s lap and Lew sat on Hayden’s, with you in the middle (see my point?).
I’m never going to have the chance to go to Intech with the Howcroft trio again.
There are so many memories formulating in my mind right now, and they have been since I found out. But while trying to write this post, I realised that I didn’t want to talk about them anymore. I don’t want them to be written in words; Words could never give the feelings and the sensations and the friendship justice. I want them to stay preserved inside my head until my turn comes. Because it’s not right. It’s not right that our memories should stay after we do. I used to want to make a mark on the Earth and be remembered, but now I’m not so sure.
People like Shakespeare and Socrates and Da Vinci- we say we remember them but we don’t. We don’t remember them at all. We never saw their work, or told them to keep going when they were giving up. We appreciate them, sure, but they are not remembered. There’s no-one left to remember them. You see, when people die, they don’t just become dust in the Earth. They become legends, fables, stories of adventures and life lessons to be learned.
And that’s okay.
I miss you, Shaun. I promise I won’t forget.
Your ol’ Buddy,
Khiana x

I Couldn’t think of a Pun for the title…I’ll do better next time.

KikiWantsHerCookie:

*standing ovation*

Originally posted on Ramblings of a Smillie:

So, there’s become quite the explosion of YouTubers writing books, lately. Two of the most recent ones being the likes of Connor Franta and Carrie Hope Fletcher, as well as some more well known names like Grace Helbig and Zoella (Zoe Sugg) and Pointless Blog (Alfie Deyes). Personally, I don’t see why a lot of people are getting their knickers in a twist about it.

Okay, these young people are writing books. What’s wrong with strong, independent, inspirational people who are in the public eye, or have a large number or people who look up to them, writing something that gives younger people something they can read and learn something? It’s not the end of the world BUT many people seem extremely unhappy because they can’t see how any of these “YouTubers” have “lived”.

If you’ve wanted ANY of the videos any of the people previously mentioned, you’d see some…

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The Year Old Notebook

Just a short one guys :)
Didn’t know what to call this, but I found a notebook full of poems from about year ago and decided to share this one. Most of the poems I feel are still too personal to share, but I don’t really think this one is still relevant to me. Hopefully in the future I’ll feel comfortable enough to share more :)

I’m drowning.
Trying to wade through
The words we left unsaid
And yet I’m sinking faster than ever
The mound grows as
Mumbled words and awkward silences
Rain upon us.

I’m stuck.
Trying to locate
the exact moment I broke away from
my logical thoughts
Though it seems I’m not the only one
As a vast scribble of intangible thoughts
Sit between us.

I’m lost.
Trying to find a way
Out of this mess we’ve made
Your kind words tamper with the
Compass in my mind
Scrambling my senses until
I can’t breathe.

I’m drowning-
I’m stuck-
I’m lost-
Trying to wade through-
Trying to find a way-
Trying to locate-
Where.
It.
All.
Went.
Wrong.

Life After Death

A post just for Tilly, who can stop worrying because I’ve finally updated ;)

Something I’ve always wondered about, is what happens to the ones we leave behind when we die. I’m fortunate enough to say that I’ve never lost anyone I was particularly close to. Recently my aunt passed away, but I never met her. I did see my mother grieve, however, and how it affected her.

She didn’t eat, or sleep; or even talk. She lost a small patch of her hair to stress, and she was constantly cleaning, just for something to do.
My mum and her sister had never really gotten on. But once my aunt was gone, my mum’s perspective of things changed. She was still my mum’s sister- she loved her, she lost her, and she missed her.

So now, while I’m sat at home feeling sorry for myself, (chest infection, very painful), I’m wondering what would happen if I died.

No, really.

If I died right now, how would you feel? I mean, some of you might feel that it was a shame and move on to the next blog post; which is to be expected as almost none of you know me personally.
To the people that do know me:

Would you be shocked at the news?
Would you believe it?
Would you care?
Would you miss me?
Would you cry?
Would you have any regrets?
Would you have anything you wish you’d said to me?
Would you go to my funeral?

It’s morbid to think about, but the point is that it’s good to think about things like this. Because if you doubt the answers that you’re given, you get to see who really cares about you.

So if you’re reading this, I ask you to think about it. If I died tomorrow, what would you say to me today?
Is there anything that you’d like to get cleared up- whether it’s an argument we swept under the rug or I owe you a chocolate bar- but never really felt like it was the right time?
Because now I’m asking. Now is the right time to do so.

None of us know how much time we have, so don’t put off things you want to say or do- or you might find that your life will end before you get a chance to say/do them.

Nobody should die with regrets.

We only have one chance to live this life, so do everything in your power to make yourself happy.

Surround yourself with people that make you happy- and if they don’t make you happy, then cast all ties with them away. You don’t owe anybody anything.
Do things that make you happy, and don’t worry about things that don’t. That subject you hate and plan to do nothing with in the future? Don’t stress about exams, they will literally never come up again in your lifetime.

So I beg you, anything you’ve been holding in, let it out. Bottling up emotions will only make things worse.
But most importantly?

Be happy while you can :)