"You and me always.
You'd hold my hand above the waves.
Paddling around,
Pretending that it was not too cold.
It was,
But not when you were there."
Biffy Clyro, Christopher's River.
This song means a lot to me,it reminds me of my very special friend :) xxx
A little mad, a little sane. I can be loud at times but i'm actually very quiet. I'm a thinker...I think about things waaaay too much sometimes so people often perceive me as strange (but i'm not really) Im a baggies chick, i love my piercings and peoples' opinions of my appearance really mean very little... I change my hair colour nearly as often as my clothes, its always a nice little surprise for people if nothing else lol. I'm at Queens studying Finance (and yes it is very boring) although this year i've taken a year out to calm down and 'learn to appreciate money'- it's working!!!! lol. My friends are the most important thing in my life, nothing makes me happier than spending time with people i care about, my best friends Gill and Vykki. I rip tickets and sell popcorn sometimes in my free time (obviously it's not voluntary work...) in the old Vue cinema, as you can imagine, it's not really a brain-boggling job plus pretty much everyone that works there are all on the same level of craziness and doziness so I seem to fit right in plus I get to watch free movies all the time, one could almost say it's not a bad place to work. I'm a pretty easy person to get along with, I like most people unless they're complete bell-end culchies. The things that are most annoying to me are people taking ages to reply to texts, or not replying at all, people who can't spell or have bad grammar skills and crazy girls. Yea, I don't like very many girls I just don't trust them. You know where you stand with fellas because they're straight up,thats why most of my friends are guys. However if I don't like someone I make it pretty damn obvious, whats the point in all the two-faced crap, it's just a waste of everybody's time. I also hate children, like I mean I actually HATE them (except chinese children because they are cute and generally well-mannered )The ones that I hate the most are the ones that the parents just let run riot all the time without keeping them on leads. They should all be kept underground in cages and fed lettuce until they are 18. I love it when they fall over, and I love it when you just stand and watch them running around and you know they're going to trip- it's just an accident waiting to happen but ESPECIALLY when it's on concrete and you hear the big slap as their hands whack it and this precedes the wailing, attention-seeking gerny noise they make which sounds like a cat in distress when half the time the snot nosed little brat isn't even hurt but just wants attention. One of my managers was telling me the other day about this great device he heard of that you can attach to the outside of your house which lets out a constant high pitched noise. We can't hear it but the horrid bratty children can because their sound field is bigger. or something. anyway it gives them a terrible headache so they don't come near your house, what a legendary plan. I'm gonna get me one of those, lol. I'm just realising its so much easier for me to rant about things I hate rather than things I like.... that's normal, right? :/
hahaha, stupid child.
There is no country for old men. The young
In one another's arms, birds in the trees
- Those dying generations - at their song,
The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,
Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long
Whatever is begotten, born, and dies.
Caught in that sensual music all neglect
Monuments of unageing intellect.
An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress,
Nor is there singing school but studying
Monuments of its own magnificence;
And therefore I have sailed the seas and come
To the holy city of Byzantium.
O sages standing in God's holy fire
As in the gold mosaic of a wall,
Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre,
And be the singing-masters of my soul.
Consume my heart away; sick with desire
And fastened to a dying animal
It knows not what it is; and gather me
Into the artifice of eternity.
Once out of nature I shall never take
My bodily form from any natural thing,
But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make
Of hammered gold and gold enamelling
To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;
Or set upon a golden bough to sing
To lords and ladies of Byzantium
Of what is past, or passing, or to come.
This melts me everytime. :o
Sailing to Byzantium, The Tower 1928- William Butler Yeats.