Through my eyes @17

A short story I wrote as a seventeen year old, thought I’d share.

It was the start of November, a bitter cold and dull day. The wind battled with our bus in its frustrated, stubborn, resentful way and believe me my feelings were mutual. We turned a corner, in the dirty, depressing streets of Dublin that oppressed our small fleet. Just like the road underneath, I was turning a corner in my own life, only I didn’t know it  yet. 

Looking around the class I was traveling with, reminded me of ‘Grease’; the pink ladies and the Grease boys; however  just like my two friends before me, I was just an onlooker. 

My mind reflected on the performance I had been in two years previously and of the certain ‘Patti Simcox’ that was at this very moment fighting for her life. She hadn’t left my mind for weeks now, as I had worried constantly  about my dear friend who meant so much to me.

Looking out the window, I can still remember the view now, like it was yesterday. I had hope in my heart, I wished and yearned so hard on the stars that sat above the bus, I almost started believing she was getting better and would be up again someday. 

Then as shooting stars fall, my vulnerable delicate hopes were dashed upon the sidewalk. There was a phonecall, the phonecall, my tears started to run as I saw and heard the girl’s expressions change. People around me told me to be strong, there’d been rumours filtering our minds for ages, this would just be another. But in my heart, I knew something wasn’t right, even though my mind begged every lucky star to believe it wasn’t true but then came the second call and it was.

My body heaved into tears as my heart gave in to despair and pain, my world shattered into pieces before my very eyes. The person who swore she’d never leave me, left me.

One of the girls, a fellow onlooker, took me in her arms, her heart also breaking. From that very moment deep within all the trauma , grief and commotion a friendship was born. One so powerful and needed that we had come to realize later on down the line, our friend had not left us at all. Somehow we made our way to the first area of destination , the Lottery Building. Yet in this place of good fortune, I felt no security, my mind far far away.

A few of us, it had been decided, would be sent home, skipping the play that had been arranged, and those on the bus, less fortunate not to have met our recent angel, would attend. 

I’ll never forget the atmosphere in the taxi coming home. The five of us knew we would never feel the same again. The pain I felt engulfed me as I sat there, glancing through my watery eyes once again at Dublin, my body paralysed like stone, my breath hard to find. The driver, a happy little man chatted of small trivial matters, unaware of the emotional baggage we withheld, and turned on the radio. 

None of us listened to the man, it was impossible to do so, but politely we nodded and agreed where appropriate. “Five people killed”, said the radio presenter. I nudged my friend beside me and pointed to the window, it was as if I myself was looking through a window to my own life. There was a hotel outside that seemed to take forever to pass with the same name as the one we’d lost. Little did we know that was the first of many symbols to come throughout the following prolonged months. 

Looking back, her funeral was a beautiful one; filled with love and music just like she had been. She altered my past, enriched it, her death alters my future. Looking hesitantly into the future, I feel pain, a soft, sharp, tugging pain that never really goes away, a loneliness that can’t be fixed, a sense of something missing . 

But as my friendship that took flight on the bus strengthens, I know she’ll always be a part of this small ambiguous world. In the smiles and the laughter of the people around me, whenever the sea gently hugs the sand and in every blooming sunflower. She’ll never stop making a difference in my life.

In memory of Claire Kelly. My dearest angel.

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Be Passionate.

‘Without passion you cannot succeed’ Santana on Glee.

Today I had an interview toward my dream. It was a gateway to one of the paths on my journey, a hero’s call and I answered. We do not have to answer, many times we don’t, many times we ignore the call, many times we answer and say no. But today for this call, I responded and went with it. It’s funny how some swerves in the road can seem so tailormade for you that you wonder were you always meant to take this scenic route, get lost, run out of petrol and land here, exactly where you were always meant to be, chez Ciara or chez you.

Today I had the opportunity to inspire people, and I saw the ripple effect almost immediately, passion returned to the room tenfold and the place was lit up with possibility.

Whichever way this scenic stopoff leads me, whoever I meet on this restplace I know it will take me on an adventure of a lifetime, that I am certain will have me arrive at my destination. There’s a whole lot of magic in believing. There’s a whole lot of productivity in passion. When we are passionate, the sky is the limit, there is a fire burning within that is driving everything. If you are passionate about what you are doing, where you are going, how you are doing it then you cannot but succeed, passion has intent. Let what drives you drive you.

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Short Story :)

This is what a half hour in Starbucks will do Just a short story I wrote today & I thought I’d share. Follow your heart, it’ll lead you places you’ve never imagined.

The One That Got Away
I looked into the fire and disappeared, the flames danced in their autumn parade of light, licking the coal, slowly turning it to dust. Left alone in the room I was free to communicate with myself, the past came back with the doubts and the thoughts to tease and torment me.

It was a cold night in the middle of summer, I pulled at my white flimsy nightgown, it barely went past my knees yet I yearned for them to be covered, wrapped up, tangled up in the familiar sequence of skin. Momentarily, I tried blinking, hoping the action would deliver it, him, you to me. But nothing. Nothing but the welcome breeze of the fan, I had no intention of stopping, even though it was well into the midnight hours.

The ghost of your hand slipped its way around my waist as I lay rehashing the memories of yesterday. We had danced in each others’ light, drank up the energy between us, and fed on our joy. When our eyes collided, the world refused to spin and in that moment I knew your eyes were the only ones I ever wanted to fall into.

Soft passion spoke greatly to a lost heart looking for healing. This was what people dreamed about, what fairytales consisted of. It was what I had always promised myself in finding. All of earth’s problems were solved in the sound of your laughter and all my problems ceased to exist as I tripped over myself and you used your angel hands to catch me, taking my heart with it. In the months that followed, we were magnets drawn together time and time again. It was only a matter of time, I saw my future in your eyes, your smile, the way you spoke to me, a tone solely reserved for me. I delighted in our discussions. No more were we two bodies but one housing two content souls. I had every notioon that my search was over, that you were mine. I was wrong.

My heart not only broken, but ripped apart at the seam, right where the stitch that held us together lay. I could read your eyes better than my own; I knew it was done, the fairytale over, another girl had won.

Orange, red, blue and yellow flames came together in a cascade as the fireplace was brought to life. The dust resettled and I breathed a sigh of relief. What was done, was done. My heart repaired itself, it had to; I was too full of love for it to go to waste. Dreams had to be rediscovered, renamed, unwoven.

Yes, the ghost of your lips whispering into my ear, the sparkle of your vampire skin, the warmth of your aura still played chords to the pricks in my heart, even tonight as I lay there awake, hoping to once again feel that way. To innocently and wholeheartedly fall into love, without question or worry, to naively know when love is love. What a gift it was to hold if only momentarily. That is the hope, the dream, the goal of my soul.

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See You At The Finish Line

My life is very interesting at the moment, I’m living it like it’s a book and I get to read the chapters, each page brings me onto a new adventure where it’s a great mystery to see whether I choose the right path or the left one to reach my destination.

In the long term I know where I am going, I am on my way and I have no doubt I will get there. In the short term, I’ve no idea where I’m going and that is okay. Each day brings new opportunities, new choices, more paths to go down to reach my goal. In the hero’s journey, the hero gets a call to answer, depending on that answer they go on an epic adventure, meeting obstacles and magical gifts, I feel as though I am on my hero’s journey but I am not stressing. I believe everything happens for a reason and things fall into place, at least in my experience on this earth this has been happening for me. So as opportunities arise I make my choice and I see what happens. At the moment, I am waiting for one of those choices, the answer will either give me the direction to go left or right, either way I’m on my way.
We live such short lives, it would be such a pity not to relish in the small moments of life that reach such opportunities. I sometimes watch my life detached as it were on a book and smile at my life, what happens when I merely show up fascinates me. I do not have to do anything more but show up and life takes care of itself. Therefore I am not afraid or worried of what’s to come, I am quite excited and fearless. Bring it on!

I am the master of my life, the captain of my ship, the hero on my own journey.
Fear not fellow hero, your journey will unfold before your eyes and I will meet you at the finish line. In the meantime, keep dreaming.

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I’m sexy and I know it!

I’m in the process of making a film, a film that has been on my mind since October, one that is personal, is real and is all about courage. It is centered around three stories, one girl walking up a hill while battling a mountain within herself, the second two women dealing with the fears they have knowing they are falling for each other and the third story is about a girl who is completely and utterly comfortable in her skin, she’s proud to be herself and enjoys spending time with someone who sees her for her, nothing else, not even her disability, being deaf.

People are more than they seem, when we’re living our life as ourselves completely with self acceptance there’s nothing stopping us. we shine.
I knew I was a part of all three stories, but I figured I was very like the girl in the third story. I love who I am, I am happy with who I am and I am confident in who I am. I want to light up the world showing people it’s all about being who you are, no matter who you are.

Yet, while I was acting in the film I did not accept myself, when I looked at the footage and saw my bulges bouncing as I walked, as I saw my foot turn in as I walked up the hill, I was not celebrating each curve, each wayward hair, and celebrating my uniqueness, my light.
I realized it is a daily choice to have courage, to love yourself, and to know it, really know it. There is an opportunity every time I see a clip that I’m in; to accept myself, to see myself as if I was another person, to know I’m beautiful. It is not a bad thing, it is an opportunity when the voice in our heads go ‘ugh you’re so fat, you disgust me’ or ‘ughh look at you, you pathetic crappy victim’. The opportunity lies in being able to say, ‘no, you know what, I am sexy and I know it’. This is possible for you too, there is nobody like you and that’s beautiful. Confidence to just be you. You’re the only one who can pull off You. Stand tall, smile and stop wasting time feeling sorry for yourself.

If the thing I come away with everytime I look at my film is negative self image then I am going against the intention for my film. It’s funny how quick we are to jugde ourselves while celebrating others. Time for that to change.

‘Oh God, help me believe the truth about myself, no matter how beautiful it is.Amen.’

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Dare to Dance in The Rain

‘Like a bird with broken wings, it’s not how high he flies but the song he sings.’

It’s the beginning of a new year, and not just any year, it’s 2012. For many that is the year of the end, the year of the change, the year when the world is caput. For me, it’s a year where dreams come true that people never even imagined possible, where eyes are open onto greater heights and when hope comes alive.

I went to see New Year’s Eve with my friend which it was such a special treat, not just because of the beautiful movie, but being with such a gentle angel that this friend is. You see angels come in all shapes and sizes with different stories to tell. It reminds me of the quote,

‘friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another ‘what! you too? I thought I was the only one!‘C.S.Lewis

My sweet friend lives with three other beautiful angels that have graced my life this year who’ve charmed their way into my heart and soul. Who have taught me what it is to be true to yourself and how vitally important that is. I’ve only known them a short while now and yet I couldn’t imagine my life without them.

And it wasn’t until I was truly being true to myself that I found them. So why should I feel anything but full of hope for this year, for I know whatever happens I will either be given something solid to stand on or I will be taught to fly. It is in the choice to dance in our uniqueness, to raise our freak flag, to show the world our ways that we are rewarded by finding similar souls waiting for us.

My hope for you this year is that courage is your friend and you take this opportunity to let the world be warmed by your light and that you are graced by angels just like mine.

Happy Happy New Year!

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First of all may I excuse myself as i have been up since 530 am and I am writing this at 9pm. If my writing today does not make sensee, it will be because I do not make sense. I’m sitting in my bed having returned to the golden land of Wales. I went home for the Christmas holidays and found interesting that I needed a transition period to get used to my tow lives, one here in Swansea and the one in Ireland. It is like having two pairs of jeans that you have won to two very didfferent but just as memorable occasions and slippinng them on again. You are reminded of such lovely activities and hope to recreate them but it never quite manageds to line up, things are different, either you’ve grown, lost/put on weight or just got used to wearing skirts; something feels different to the expectation. To the memory, to the part of you that was left with the jeans, I feel as though I have a pair of jeans in Swansea and a pair of jeans in Ireland. It took a couple of days to get back into wearing my jeans in Irelaand. They were a little uncomfortable but soon enough they snugly became my favourite piece of clothing and then I had to leave them behind and return to my previous favourite, the newer jeans in Swansea. These were tight, itchy and din’t yet feel as if they fit, but they did and will again.

We like birds make nests of our surroundings. I have a pretty solid nest in Ireland. It’s familiar and predictable and stable, this is why it was easy to remind myself how to wear those jeans. While in Swansea before I had left I had only just finished my nesting. It was just about perfect when I had left it and maybe that was too soon, because I did not have the knowledge of it’s stability. So I returned a little unsure, a little nervy to what I would find. And it turns out not that surprisingly, it’s just as I left it, waiting for me. I’m hoping with a good night’s sleep my emotions will settle down and let me be safe in my nest.

Now I am not saying i returned home for the holidays back to my old self and patterns, no way. I came back with the person I found in Swansea; the cool, confident, independent me. After a somewhat turbulant adventure I hope somehow I can somehow sew those pairs of jeans together, add a few sequins, patterns and embroidery. One thing is certain, I am not afraid to uncover what next is in store for me, at the begining of this new chapter. Happy 2012, everyone!

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Stop in the snow!

So I haven’t been writing much these days, It’s been a couple of weeks now which have flown by. You would think that this would upset me or make me think it’s writer’s block but no. Instead I have been living. Living in the present, in the physical moment and it’s wonderful. It’s not that I am not inspired by what’s going on around me, in contrary, I am plenty inspired. But right now is not the time to be witnessing and recording, it is about experiencing.

Sometimes we need to step out of our minds and into our bodies, shift from the comfort zone into the unknown, more often than not, we find (well at least I find) what lies ahead is something much more greater, a treasure to hold onto. And one cannot do that when they have characters talking to them and fantasy worlds being painted within them.

It is a good thing, the break from writing will only make me a better writer, these flowery moments of life are too big an opportunity to miss. So I ask you, whether you’re stressing over money, work, relations or anything, are you missing life? What would it be like to just let go and feel the ground underneath you? Would it be that bad to let the mask down with your hair? Everything will get done, but it’ll get done so much better when you let yourself be, let yourself shine, let yourself be the best that you can be, which is effortlessly you once you stop and go with it.

Live in the present, not the future or the past, the past is gone and the future is always there, leave it be, concentrate on what you have or else it’ll be gone before you know it.

With love & holiday wishes,

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Sorry, blog site is being a little troublesome today

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Inspired Awakening

I haven’t been sleeping very well, in fact over the last few nights, I’ve been tossing and turning till way past four am, and woken a few hours later exhausted and frustrated ready for work. It would be annoying except that I was told once that when great minds can’t sleep it’s because something big is about to happen. Today, Thursday 24th of November, Thanksgiving Day for all intents and purposes I was inspired.
I have been working on this story since the beginning of summer; I spent a good two months delving into this world, meeting the characters and following them on their journey. But that had been just the backbones to the story. I was writing the story for a script, not really interested in the descriptive world, I was writing it for a purpose that had nothing to do with the story or my characters. I was detached. So of course my inspiration ran dry, the characters found out and were not interested in someone who did not have their best intentions at heart. So I put it away for a while, safe in a notebook and never got to write the script. I got busy.
Now that I am in Wales, studying and being immersed in reasons to be inspired, my course actually encourages inspiration, I am being bombarded with stories and characters that are fighting their way to the surface, some have arrived onto paper, others are waiting their turn. I’m finding it really interesting that life seems to take care of itself. And once it knows what your passion is it dedicates itself in helping to arrange that for you. For instance my part time job, which is the perfect job for me, as I get to meet people, I get to talk to people, to be inspired by people, but yes my part time job gives me shifts that finish many times at two pm. This in my thinking is the perfect time to go to the cinema. And it just so happens Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn has been out this month, perfect timing. I have indulged my imagination and inspiration and have gone to see it four times so far, since last Friday. There is method to my madness, along with the joy in reuniting with the characters from the book, and escaping from the world from a couple of hours, each time I see it, I notice something different, first time was the story, second time was the cinematography, third time was the cast, and the production design of sets and the fourth time was the characters themselves, the relationships they had with each other, the way they were represented. It all inspired and spoke to me.
Then for more serendipitous activity I came home to find the book I had ordered from The Book Depository had arrived. Now you should know that I am a slight nerd when it comes to books, I love them, I love hardback books, and special editions and pretty ones with stories and most of all I love special edition books about the creative writing process of a series of books that I happen to love written by the author herself and interviewed by another author. Yes I happened upon this book while I was window shopping in Waterstones last week after my class. The Twilight Saga: The Official Illustrated Guide. It’s quite beautiful in hardback, with shiny letters on a black background, and heavy with small writing. Completely and utterly indulgent. The only problem was it was seventeen pounds. Even for a beautifully bound book I thought this was too expensive; living as a student and finding hidden treasure coves such as the 99p store and Poundland, I have come to use money in a different way, in a more creative way. So on the way home from the book shop I went online to The Book Depository website, a fantastic website that sells books for cheaper with free shipping. But the internet on my phone isn’t the greatest most likely because I walk fast when it’s dark and uphill, probably not the best environment for encouraging a network. I got home eventually and straight away got on my laptop to find this magical book. Low and behold it was listed with a photograph and only five pounds!!!! Awed by the universe, I researched it with a fine tooth comb, after holding the hardback copy I was not prepared to buy a paperback, cheap unofficial copy; this had to be the real one. Eventually my search told me there was nothing wrong with it and no catch, so I took the dive and ordered it.
So today it came, and it’s even more beautiful, because it is mine and it was cheaper and it really is heavy, with red inlays, black covers and cream pages. Did I mention I was a nerd? You underestimated me didn’t you? 😉
Anyhow so I was celebrating Thanksgiving over skype and twitter with my friends all over the world, being very thankful and feeling very blessed while reading my book. When something happened, as I started reading the authors’ conversation I became more and more inspired and encouraged to go back to my story, to revisit those characters, they were ready to trust me again. I got to page 18 and suddenly had to abandon the book and twitter to pour the story from within me onto my phone’s notebook. Characters’ coffee orders and favourite clothes shop were being given to me, and soon more characters came to play, adding in their two cents, I am falling into the story. There is a need to write it, to follow where it’s taking me, not to write a script but to open the floodgates to this world and see where it takes me, and let me tell you that’s a much more enjoyable endeavour.
My message to you on this beautiful night is, don’t second guess yourself or your body, there was a moment I wanted to just sleep but if I had maybe I would have missed the sign, and there was a moment I hesitated in ordering the book because I didn’t think I should be buying something for myself so close to Christmas. Just go with the flow, let your creativity out, be inspired, you never know where it will take you.

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