Thoughts of an Anarchist

This requires, I feel, a national period of mourning.

Those of us who are avid readers of his blog have been missing him, but he frankly deserves the break.

Not the break in his arm, I mean the break from writing.

Oh, sssh, Abbi. Stop fangirling.

Which reminds me, I must review ‘Moab is my Washpot’ at some point, which the excellent Fish bought me for Christmas, and I adored.

I don’t have to justify being an atheist.

But here’s me doing it anyway.

Colourblind (And Proud)

Sometimes, there are paper colours

                        that the clever ones can’t see.

It’s not that they don’t want to;

(lord knows I’ve tried)

 

But every time we try

       they blow away, hide,

       dance in the sky

no more than a metaphor

 

for all I peer through their rose tinted eyes.

 

And so I don’t believe.

 

Those who can –

those lucky few –

speak in rapture of colour and hue

 

of golden glows and silver touch

But I see no silver, just shades of grey,

and isn’t that beautiful enough?

 

These colour catchers want to tame the stars, to see in black and white,

I feel no need to. (I’ve seen the light.)

 

And so I don’t believe.

 

These children, chasing a rainbow’s end

                                                a mythical pot of gold

say if I don’t believe I’ll go to darkness

and then there’ll be

 no colour

            at all.

 

Can’t you see?

 

Maybe it’s me whose eyes are blind.

Maybe I can’t see.

 

But show me the colours I see

            in my lover

                        in your god.

 

and then I WILL BELIEVE.

 

But not ’til then.

In my mind, drama = me. It has done since I was four years old, it’s what I’ve always wanted to do, and it’s what I will do. If I didn’t do drama I would simply cease to exist as the person I am now.

So when on Thursday we recieved the kick up the bum that we might fail drama AS, despite putting everything into it - that we might get a D - I was slightly shellshocked.

Since then I’ve pretty much been working whenever I can, because I cannot fail.

Because if I don’t equal drama, than what’s left for me to equal?

beinggirl.co.uk’s tip for a Happy Period: