If you could only see the beast you've made of me / I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free / The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound / I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallow'ed ground.
When the world's a darker place Faced with unspeakable danger And with no means of escape. The heart grows weak And the soul soon fades away.
When you lie and dream Of a space so far away There will be no evensong for you. This is place is so strange And you can't find your way home.
When you feel like you're losing fight The road is long and far And your hope is nearly gone. Find strength in those you find And they will guide you on.
When you know the end is near As the lights begin to dim And the machines begin to fail. Be vigilant, lost traveller For the truth with all be revealed.
My head is a big, scary place. It scares me sometimes. Not only is it full of words that would only make me sound like a pompous twat, but there's things in there I'm not proud of. There's so many dark things, so many words that terrify me. Nasty, ugly thoughts. But what do I do? How do you run from yourself? I really don't know.
What am I even doing anymore? Drink, drunk, fall over, collapse. And repeat.
I need to sort my life out. Get a boyfriend, get a reality check and get a fucking smile on my face. For god's sake, I need to cheer up.
Hmmm, I like it when my nail polish is all chipped and half-bitten off. It's beautifully ugly.
Oh god. Ashes to Ashes. ASHES TO FUCKING ASHES.
Sam. Oh my god. Sam. Sam Tyler. Sam bloody Tyler. It's SAM. THAT'S SAM TYLER RIGHT THERE OH MY GOD. He's right there, knocking on the window of Gene's office, oh god - I can't take much more of this. One more week and we find out everything. Jesus Christ.
It was the election yesterday. I voted Liberal Democrats knowing full well that if Conservatives got in, we'd all be well and truly fucked. Why? Because it is a cold, hard fact that David Cameron doesn't care about us. I watched until 4am to see how the parties would do and shrunk back in horror at the Exit Poll. I sat and watched as Tories gained more and more seats.
I went to be hoping this was all a bad dream. But that's when the true nightmare started.
I dreamt I was at school, I was dressed in yellow. There was a big party - we were celebrating. I was sure we had won something - or maybe we hadn't, I wasn't sure. We were just celebrating - everyone was happy. It was good. And then a girl in red comes along and is worried. She tells me something and walks away - I'm confused. Later, a girl in blue comes along and tells me she doesn't want to be friends - she hates me. She tells me I shouldn't be here, I don't deserve to be here. She tells me I'm not allowed to vote - I don't deserve to, I don't have the right to.
I get upset. I lash out, push her and punch her and do everything I can to hurt her. I hate her, she's not my friend. I just want to hurt her so much. And then I step back, shocked at what I've done. She's lying amongst upturned desks and chairs - the old-school ones you'd get in the sixties or something. The ones you open up, yeah? She doesn't say anything, but stares up at me.
And I step back, from out of a class room and I'm suddenly on grass, the room's falling away to the outside, to endless fields or green and yellow. I look at I see David Cameron standing and staring at me - shocked. I cry and run away into the fields - they're long and hard to move through. I move slowly, as if running through water.
And I run away, and no one comes to find me. But I'm hoping, just wishing that someone does.
Could I dream of a future of repression of the Tory rule? Or could I merely dream my fears of one in childish ways?
I feel ignored, pissed off, cranky and lonely. Why do I have the feeling that no one wants to actually talk to me anymore? No one replies to my texts when I text them, no one messages me back when I message them.
I feel utterly useless - it's like any friend I've made in the last eight months has completely forgotten about me and I can't do anything to change that. I'm trying so hard to make an effort, get people to come and hang out, go for a drink - do what friends do. But no one bothers with me?
I've never felt more isolated in all my life, I just don't know what to do anymore.
Handle bars, and then I let go, let go for anyone. Take me in, and throw out my heart and get a new one.
Amelia Pond stands at the doors of the TARDIS, she grips the door-frame – she can’t help but feel a little nauseous staring into the flash of colours before her. She gazes into the oblivion, wondering how long it goes on for – it seems bottomless, never ending. There’s so many colours, she can’t even describe them – pinks, violets, coral, periwinkle, all sorts of pastel hues. They swirl together in a beautiful vortex, churning the colours together to make new ones – colours Amy’s never seen before. Colours she couldn’t even think of in her wildest of dreams. She watches, her dark, twinkling eyes transfixed on small orbs of light twirling round and round in the mix. They glitter and glimmer at her and it fills Amy with nothing but happiness and wonder. She starts to lean forward into the vortex, grinning wildly at this beautiful and unexplainable thing – and it’s all thanks to The Doctor. She moves her head forward and laughs, there’s a sudden rush of wind and it sends her hair flying in all directions – wild, fiery curls soaring about her head like a halo.
“Having fun, Pond?” The Doctor appears at her side, grinning madly.
“This is brilliant!” she replies, breathless.
The Doctor feels a surge of smugness as he beams back at her; he knew, he just knew Amy would like this one. He is rather brilliant, you know. He places his hands behind his back, rocking back and forth from the heels to the balls of his feet as he watches his companion gaze into the vortex in awe. It’s a rather mundane thing to him, but he knows how much Amy would find it interesting – she’s only human, after all. Oh, Amy – you haven’t seen it all yet. All of time and space, all the tiniest of wonders in all the universes – and they’ve only just begun. Gazing down into the vortex, he smiles and explains to her what it is:
“It’s called a Gaim Cerelia Vortex. Completely harmless, often used by thrill-seekers and adrenaline junkies alike to free fall in. You just sort of keep falling on and on and on in it,”
“Does it actually end?” Amy asked, looking across at him.
“Fancy finding out?” The Doctor raised his eyebrows, an amused look on his face.
“What, seriously?”
Amy looks across at him, frowning slightly – but there’s a little glint in her eyes that tells The Doctor that she’s eager to find out. That’s what he loves about her – whatever human feeling of fear or uncertainty she feels is suddenly pushed back with an overwhelming sense of curiosity and wonder. He knows that she’s absolutely loving it – she wants to dive right in there and find out just how long this thing goes on for. Because that’s Amy Pond. Brilliant, utterly fantastic Amy Pond.
Next thing we're touching, You look at me it's like you hit me with lightning...
“Do you trust me?” he asks her.
He gently takes her hand, smiling at her softly. Amy looks back at him, those beautiful, dark eyes of her full of excitement – they seem to shine like stars. She sees that look and she’s speechless for a moment – those, blue, blue eyes calling out to her ‘Trust me Amelia Pond, I’m the Doctor..’. Her Raggedy Doctor who appeared one night. The Raggedy Doctor she waited fourteen years for to come and take her away from her life – she never gave up on him coming to get her. She always, always knew he’d come back. She looks into those blue, blue eyes and it feels like she’s been hit by lightning, a surge of power – of wild, wild power that warms her bones. It’s beautiful. A small smile appears at her lips and he knows, he totally knows. She grips his hand with hers and straightens up, one eyebrow quirked at him in typical Amy Pond cheekiness.
“’Course I do,”
Oh, everybody's starry-eyed And everybody goes Oh, everybody's starry-eyed And my body goes Whoa oh oh ah ah
The Doctor grins at her and with a yell of “Geronimo!” suddenly leaps forward into oblivion, Amy soaring in after him with a delightful scream. The pair of them tumble into the howling swirl of the vortex and madly spin about for a few moments at an almost frightening speed. Amy squeals with pure joy, she can barely see – her eyes are full of lights and beautiful colours and it feels wonderful. They’re all flashing right before her, consuming her – making her feel weightless and dizzy. She’s never felt anything like it. It’s amazing. The pair of them seem to finally slow down, they feeling like they’re floating rather than falling. Amy looks across at the Doctor and grins.
“Doctor, this is amazing!” she yells over the noise and lights and colours.
So we burst into colours, colours and carousels. Fall head first like paper planes in playground games...
And with a grin – he lets go of her, pushing arm and letting her spin gracefully round and round. Amy – a little shocked a first of the sudden spinning - soon stretches out her arms, closing her eyes for a moment. She’s enjoying the light-headed feeling as she twists and turns her way around the vortex. Amy grins, everything seems to slow down even more and it just seems perfect. Her hair falls about her face wildly and all she can do is laugh. The Doctor watches her with a grin on his face; he can’t help but think of how beautiful she looks – falling with such grace and carelessness: cradled in twinkling lights, caressed by colours. He just freely floats about, watching and smiling at her. He doesn’t want this to ever end; this is too perfect to be stopped.
With a kick of his legs, she falls over to her – she’s still turning and twisting about, grinning madly. He reaches out and grabs her hand and feels his hearts skip a beat when she opens up those dark, starry eyes and looks up at him. The vortex seems to hush, nothing but the scattered shrills of twinkling lights sounding as they bounce off their bodies and float past their ears. Amy’s still smiling, panting heavily – the sound of her breathing seems to echo about the vortex. Amy can hear her heart beating and as she looks at him, it quickens.
Next thing we're touching, You look at me it's like you hit me with lightning.
“I feel amazing. I don’t want this to end,” she tells him.
“It’s just the beginning – we’ve got whole universes to see yet,” he grins back at her, taking her other hand and pulling her toward him. “Anything you want, Amelia Pond – I’ll make it happen,”
He reaches and places a hand to her face, “You know why?”
Amy smiles a small, knowing smile – pulling him closer to him. “Why’s that, then?”
“Because I’m the Doctor, and I know that you trust me..”
Oh, everybody's starry-eyed And everybody goes Oh, everybody's starry-eyed And my body goes Whoa oh oh ah ah
And she looks at him, her dark eyes full of fire and wonder – the stars burning more fiercely than ever before. She can’t help herself. As soon as she’s close enough, she presses her lips against his; they’re soft, gentle and for a moment – they’re both frozen. He kisses her back, his fingertips brushing along her jaw; there’s something rather heartfelt and tender about the kiss, he can’t quite put his finger on it. But he knows - he has absolute certainty – that it’s wonderful. And they pull away and look back at one another and Amy Pond sees. She sees that there are stars in his eyes, burning bright and warm.
it's a shame you don't know what you're running from.
would your bones have to break and your lights turn off? would it take the end of time to hear your heart's false start?
wipe the mud stains from your face, stop the engine, stop pretending, that you're still breathing.
you know this is your biggest mistake.
Hello, it's me again. How do you do? I feel a little funny - I stayed up until 7am because I wasn't tired and kinda felt like doing it so I fed my inner Doctor Who fangirl and wrote and drew until I couldn't think anymore. It was lovely. I love Eleven and Amy. They're adorable. And I think I write them well together.
"Doctor?" she asks quietly.
"What?" he's a little annoyed for being cut off. He doesn't like it when people don't let him finish what he's trying to say.
"Do you give in?"
He looks at silently, there's a sort of sad look in his eyes – there's still part of him that doesn't want to do this. He knows it's wrong, but there's something telling him that it's alright. He should. Just comfort her. Amy smiles up at him, her dark eyes still twinkling.
"Yes," he says finally.
I'm pathetic, really. Such a soppy, silly girl. I'm waiting on Uni work to be marked so I can get it back again. I'm dying to find out how well or bad I've done. I want to know about my ELL124 - Creative Writing more than anything. I went mental with that one, I enjoyed writing it so much and showing everyone how much of a sick fuck I can be. It's not my fault. I just have a preferred taste for all things... fucking horrible in life.
I got talking to a girl in one of my classes and we walked home together since she lives in Clanny and I at Precinct which is on the way up to there. We talked about random stuff. Flatmates, plans for next year, plans for the weekend. Stuff like that. She called me weird. I thanked her, beaming. That was the most lovely compliment someone has ever given me. Cheered up my day, probably.
I don't know what else to write today. Ararararararara lalalala do be do do do do!
Nineteen, stupid and incredibly pessimistic. Somehow, I got into University to study English. Things are just starting to get interesting here. Huh.
I like sleeping, drinking, reading, drawing ang blowing bubbles in my spit.
And if I were something other than human, I'd be a Timelord with a blue box. That also travels in time.
