Evening,
So I'm sitting in front of my laptop, thinking about how fast time goes by and I feel ridiculously old for even having a passing thought about life moving too fast but it's true. It's the eve before I go back to uni to complete my third and final year of my degree and I can't believe how fast it has gone. At the start, three years feels like a lifetime and you think it'll take ages before you even need to worry and start to think about graduating but here I am and I honestly don't know where the time has gone. I have all these wonderful new memories but it feels just yesterday when I moved into flat 11 in block J in Senghennydd Court with the greatest fear.
All the time, I think about the time when I will wake up at 30 and realise that my life has gone by quicker than imaginable and I hope that in that time I will have achieve my dreams; maybe not every single one because let's face it, life isn't perfect; but I hope for the most part, I will be able to look back and smile about my achievements. I wanna be able to have no regrets. I know regrets come from the things that you don't end up doing, and I hope that I am brave enough to take every single chance I get; whether or not the choices I make are right or wrong. I don't want to look back and think "what if I had done this differently."
Naturally, I know I'm going to have more than a few, but I know that if the majority of the time I have explored each avenue I want to, I know I won't be overly disappointed in my past.
The one thing I will take from my experience in university is that I have grown into a person that I am honestly proud of right now. I also have learnt so much about myself and how strong I can be giving hard circumstances.
Now, all I have to look forward to is hopefully graduating from uni and starting my dream...
Goodnight fellow bloggers,
Nicole in a daydream of thoughts
xx
As a human; I'm not perfect and those that claim to be simply lie. Alike everyone, in life, there are things that make me irrevocably happy and positively sad. For the most part, the feelings from my heart, and thoughts from my mind will be presented here; the ups, downs and the in betweens. I don't aim to rant or moan but simply to share my experiences and help others as I journey along into fully fledged adulthood.
Friday 21 September 2012
Sunday 9 September 2012
Importance of friends...
Another day, another blog...
I've realised in my 20 years of life that to get through life, friends are one of the main sources of happiness. I haven't always had amazing friends to rely on but it just makes me feel more grateful and honored for having the friends that I do now. During High School, I flitted from groups of friends to other groups; mainly because those I got close to ended up leaving or just simply moved on to new friends. I distinctly remember one year in my High School experience when I had no one to hang out with during the day. The only way I stopped myself from not being completely alone was to hang out with my sister and her friends.
But in Sixth Form, I found the group of friends that I truly love with all my heart. I didn't know how much I had missed those years when I had nobody. A friend isn't just someone that is there to talk to when you have time when you're not doing anything. Friends are the people that you can show who you are, 100%, there's no reason for you to hide a particular trait because they accept you for everything you are, and everything you're not. Friends slowly become your family. Friends make you happy, make you mad and comfort you when you're sad; they're always there even if they aren't physically.
I would say I have the best group of friends but most would disagree, call me bias and say their group is better. The fact is, anyone who has a group of friends that is always there is a very lucky person, indeed. From Sixth Form and Uni, I have developed two groups of friends that mean everything to me. I thought with my past, it would be impossible for me to make friends and keep them but I realise I was just waiting for the right group of friends to give myself to.
I cherish my friends and hope that I bring something to their lives without them even realising.
The ever inconsistent aspiring writer,
Nicole.
P.S. Make sure your friends know how much they mean to you, true friends are hard to find. Once you've found your needle in the haystack, you don't want to let it go again- you may never find it again. The same could be said for good friends, they don't come around that often; be grateful.
I've realised in my 20 years of life that to get through life, friends are one of the main sources of happiness. I haven't always had amazing friends to rely on but it just makes me feel more grateful and honored for having the friends that I do now. During High School, I flitted from groups of friends to other groups; mainly because those I got close to ended up leaving or just simply moved on to new friends. I distinctly remember one year in my High School experience when I had no one to hang out with during the day. The only way I stopped myself from not being completely alone was to hang out with my sister and her friends.
But in Sixth Form, I found the group of friends that I truly love with all my heart. I didn't know how much I had missed those years when I had nobody. A friend isn't just someone that is there to talk to when you have time when you're not doing anything. Friends are the people that you can show who you are, 100%, there's no reason for you to hide a particular trait because they accept you for everything you are, and everything you're not. Friends slowly become your family. Friends make you happy, make you mad and comfort you when you're sad; they're always there even if they aren't physically.
I would say I have the best group of friends but most would disagree, call me bias and say their group is better. The fact is, anyone who has a group of friends that is always there is a very lucky person, indeed. From Sixth Form and Uni, I have developed two groups of friends that mean everything to me. I thought with my past, it would be impossible for me to make friends and keep them but I realise I was just waiting for the right group of friends to give myself to.
I cherish my friends and hope that I bring something to their lives without them even realising.
The ever inconsistent aspiring writer,
 |
| I couldn't have asked for better best friends <3 |
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| Me and my other best friends (made at university) |
P.S. Make sure your friends know how much they mean to you, true friends are hard to find. Once you've found your needle in the haystack, you don't want to let it go again- you may never find it again. The same could be said for good friends, they don't come around that often; be grateful.
Saturday 8 September 2012
A year on (Writing is my therapy)...
Good evening any readers who may stumble across this blog,
The crazy thing with writing is the fact that it's something physical; it's something that can be deleted but left alone it will stay there for weeks, months and even years. For some strange reason, I was drawn back to this blog that I started in a low moment in my life and reading back over the blogs that I churned out, I am a little amazed at how much emotion and love I poured into every post. It's funny that in a world where most of us are closed off, voluntarily, there's a place where we all feel safe enough to say it how it is, to tell our deepest emotions to complete strangers. That was definitely the appeal for me when I started this blog but something in my life has changed from that 18 year old girl who was just joining the big, bad world entering the unknown that was University.
I'm not saying that I've become a different person because I haven't at all, I still have those memories and scars from that time but the past year of my life has held much more important and heart-wrenching sadness that the problems I had before seem almost minuscule. And now I'm facing going into my final year of University and thinking back over the last year.The worst pain I've ever felt in my life was losing my Nan last summer; I hadn't truly understood how people got depressed to a point where the world seemed like helpless but I hand on heart entered the world where the cloud of darkness didn't seem to dissipate regardless what I did; I had become depressed after losing my Nan. During my second year of Uni, two months after losing my Nan, I had to move back to Cardiff from London and be completely alone 3 hours away from my family. Trying to juggle life, Uni and grief is something that I failed at, I could never balance them out perfectly; but despite how far into the depths of sadness I went, I never gave up. I struggled through and even managed to keep my grades up fairly well given the circumstances. Granted, I cried myself to sleep every night and didn't see the point in smiling when the world looked so bleak. But I survived it and that's the one thing I forget when I think back to what I went through, I didn't give up; I survived whilst so many in the same situation hadn't. I think of myself as weak, but I know now that I hold some strength inside of me to overcome that.
Now, aged 20 and a year on, I can look back, I can see how much it served to make me open my eyes and realise how strong people can innately be. How strong I could be. As I sit here having read the previous blogs of struggle and thought back to more of my struggles, on a Saturday night at 11PM, I feel proud of myself; not only from what I managed to overcome but also because I realise that I have found something I love. Sometimes, I reread the things that I have written (on here, the quotes I create and the stories, complete and incomplete) and it feels like it has been written by a stranger, by a talented stranger because I honestly can't remember that I've written it. When I start my writing, for the stories I write in my spare time, I get lost in a world that is neither fiction nor reality, it is just a limbo where my heart rules my head. I don't think about every word I type, I just type and somehow my incoherent thoughts turn into something that I can only think of as quite magical. I know some people out there would disagree, and say that my writing isn't as good as I think it is. But isn't that the whole point of us having a passion? Isn't the whole point of loving something being that it is always there for us regardless whether we're amazing at it or shockingly bad? It's something that brings us happiness and no body can take that away from us. I know I'm not the best writing at all but it helps me so much and I don't know how I could ever have gotten through moments in my past without the medium of writing. I'm proud of myself, honestly and truly. How many people can put their hand on their heart and say that there's something that they do that they're proud of? It's my passion, my thing; my calling in life. It gives me a reason to continue doing what I love.
During the year that I've been absent from my blogging, I managed to finish a book and self-publish/print it off. It was one of the best feelings in my life being able to complete something that makes me happy and have it physically in my hands. And at the moment, I'm half way through another project. I know I won't make it as a bestselling author, but part of me dreams that one day I'll see my books on a shelf being read by people that escape to my world, my head and get a small glimpse into my heart.
One day...
Over and out, until next time,
The crazy thing with writing is the fact that it's something physical; it's something that can be deleted but left alone it will stay there for weeks, months and even years. For some strange reason, I was drawn back to this blog that I started in a low moment in my life and reading back over the blogs that I churned out, I am a little amazed at how much emotion and love I poured into every post. It's funny that in a world where most of us are closed off, voluntarily, there's a place where we all feel safe enough to say it how it is, to tell our deepest emotions to complete strangers. That was definitely the appeal for me when I started this blog but something in my life has changed from that 18 year old girl who was just joining the big, bad world entering the unknown that was University.
I'm not saying that I've become a different person because I haven't at all, I still have those memories and scars from that time but the past year of my life has held much more important and heart-wrenching sadness that the problems I had before seem almost minuscule. And now I'm facing going into my final year of University and thinking back over the last year.The worst pain I've ever felt in my life was losing my Nan last summer; I hadn't truly understood how people got depressed to a point where the world seemed like helpless but I hand on heart entered the world where the cloud of darkness didn't seem to dissipate regardless what I did; I had become depressed after losing my Nan. During my second year of Uni, two months after losing my Nan, I had to move back to Cardiff from London and be completely alone 3 hours away from my family. Trying to juggle life, Uni and grief is something that I failed at, I could never balance them out perfectly; but despite how far into the depths of sadness I went, I never gave up. I struggled through and even managed to keep my grades up fairly well given the circumstances. Granted, I cried myself to sleep every night and didn't see the point in smiling when the world looked so bleak. But I survived it and that's the one thing I forget when I think back to what I went through, I didn't give up; I survived whilst so many in the same situation hadn't. I think of myself as weak, but I know now that I hold some strength inside of me to overcome that.
Now, aged 20 and a year on, I can look back, I can see how much it served to make me open my eyes and realise how strong people can innately be. How strong I could be. As I sit here having read the previous blogs of struggle and thought back to more of my struggles, on a Saturday night at 11PM, I feel proud of myself; not only from what I managed to overcome but also because I realise that I have found something I love. Sometimes, I reread the things that I have written (on here, the quotes I create and the stories, complete and incomplete) and it feels like it has been written by a stranger, by a talented stranger because I honestly can't remember that I've written it. When I start my writing, for the stories I write in my spare time, I get lost in a world that is neither fiction nor reality, it is just a limbo where my heart rules my head. I don't think about every word I type, I just type and somehow my incoherent thoughts turn into something that I can only think of as quite magical. I know some people out there would disagree, and say that my writing isn't as good as I think it is. But isn't that the whole point of us having a passion? Isn't the whole point of loving something being that it is always there for us regardless whether we're amazing at it or shockingly bad? It's something that brings us happiness and no body can take that away from us. I know I'm not the best writing at all but it helps me so much and I don't know how I could ever have gotten through moments in my past without the medium of writing. I'm proud of myself, honestly and truly. How many people can put their hand on their heart and say that there's something that they do that they're proud of? It's my passion, my thing; my calling in life. It gives me a reason to continue doing what I love.
During the year that I've been absent from my blogging, I managed to finish a book and self-publish/print it off. It was one of the best feelings in my life being able to complete something that makes me happy and have it physically in my hands. And at the moment, I'm half way through another project. I know I won't make it as a bestselling author, but part of me dreams that one day I'll see my books on a shelf being read by people that escape to my world, my head and get a small glimpse into my heart.
One day...
Over and out, until next time,
Nicole (happier version)
 |
| My finished printed out book (apologies for the lack of horizontal picture) |
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