PANCAKES!

 

In which: I am suffering with the icky goth disease!

Eeruugughhf. 

SO. Covid has very rudely invaded my house. 

My Dad and I had to do home tests recently - his came back positive, and mine came back negative. But the really bizarre nonsensical thing is that both of us have the exact same symptoms, and not only that, I am considerably WORSE than he is. So I’m not sure if that means that I was negative when I did my test and I’m positive now... or, what. Ugh.

The silver lining here is that it’s actually not all that bad. Honestly I just feel as though I have a mild cold, and if covid wasn’t a thing, I wouldn’t even address my symptoms and would be getting on with my merry little life. It’s just so odd, though, this whole covid lark. But I’ve said that before. So here I am, adorned in my pink dressing gown that I’ve had since I was fourteen, snuggled up on the sofa watching those utterly dreadful TV shows that I like. 

OH. I’m also obsessed with these boots lately - I mean I have gone FULL JEN:

Ugh. They’re beautiful. 

I’ve gone a bit mental about them and keep just opening up the web page and drooling over them like a full-blown boot-psycho. But, but, but! BOOTS!! 

(I mean let’s be honest, here, I’m probably going to give in and buy them). They’re over 5 inches (lol) high though..... is that too much?

Mehh I dunno. I will sit here and continue to be all heart-eyed over these all day like I’ve done for like a week already. Boooooooots. Right, I'm off to go and make pancakes and nutella in order to perk myself up from the icky goth disease. Pancakes fix everything. These are facts. 

Byeeeeeeeeeeeeee

 🌙🌟

Current music: Can't Pay We'll Take It Away on the tellybox

And if my luck don't last too long, or if my life gets worse...

I'll be back for another song
A blessing or a curse
And I'll never ask for refunds 
'Cause I know you're not to blame
Take more blood, more hair, more money
I'll do anything to claim
A little second hand faith 

When did it stop being acceptable to write ridiculously overdramatic lyrics in cryptic hint to our emotions? I'd like to bring it back. 

Tomorrow I have to go and do a "thing", and it is a "thing" that I really do not want to do if I'm entirely honest with myself. So here I sit, attempting to distract myself by blasting music into my ears - no change there, then. I've fallen back into Emilie Autumn during stressful situations lately; maybe this is because the years wherein I lived and breathed her music were entirely badass and I was somewhat virtually impervious to whatever negativity came my way. Oh what a wondrous way to exist. 

I need to learn to live like that again. I do. It will happen. I've tapped into it more as of late than I ever have in the last five years or so but I do have a lot of progress that I need to make. But suck it up, that's life yo. Sometimes I wonder whether adulthood has fucked me over more than I realise but actually, I'm not doing all that badly, am I? So let's praise that, at least. And also, I'm just beginning to realise that actually there are no age constraints upon trivial things that we love, like hair, clothes, colours, decor... these do not have age constraints, only social constraints. And these are the sorts of constraints where we must learn to yell "FUCK YOU" and go forth to please ourselves, because pleasing ourselves is a dreadfully important thing to do. And most importantly, it is not SELFISH TO PLEASE OURSELVES, IT IS OUR RIGHT. (Capital letters indicate seriousness). 

Anyway. After I've done "the thing", I'm hoping that I'll be able to relax somewhat, and focus on actually living for once in my life. Let's tap into all the weird and wonderful and actually unapologetically enjoy living. Huh. Wouldn't that be a funny old thing?

 🌙🌟

Current Music: Second Hand Faith - Emilie Autumn

In Which: My commitment is fleeting

....Surprise! 

*eyeroll*

And so I embarked upon this journey in which I intended to pen a wonderfully creative account of my experiences during the great isolation of 2020, but........ That didn't quite happen, did it. 

Let's be honest, here. Over the years - particularly those experienced throughout my twenties - I have made numerous attempts at starting and restarting various online journals. But somehow I never manage to stick to them. Inspiration strikes, as it has done tonight, and I find myself sitting before whatever technological device it may be (Note: Right now, it's a laptop), creativity flowing through my fingertips like it used to do in times past...... yet it always seems to fade away. Creativity is not as frequent as it once was, it can lay dormant for years, and upon such rare occasions as these it emerges in an explosion of nonsensical word-vomit. Just. Like. This.

So what - I wonder - helps one to tap into such creativity on a regular basis? Or are these the struggles we face once we become fully-fledged adults? A chaotic assortment of sporadic thoughts and feelings...

I'm rambling, but I don't care. 

The Shitshow (TM) is very much still a thing. I had my heart broken many times this year, but I am still fucking going. And now, thankfully, I have found someone special to help me rebuild... but there are still parts that I am desperately trying to fix. Skeletons that always emerge from deep within my thought-closet. I feel as though I am so close, yet so far away. Do you ever get that feeling where it's like something is almost within your grasp but not quite... slipping away from your fingertips? Well, that's me. Constantly grasping at straws. But I'm okay, I always was and always will be. Count on that. 

But there are times where I feel thoroughly contemplative about "life" and what I should do about mine....... The answer, of course, is to make myself happy. 

Easy, right.......?

So, me, what makes YOU happy? 
O.K. Let me think about this.
.....I think, no matter how superfical it may be, my appearance makes me happy. And when my appearance does not line up with what I hold in my mind's-eye, THAT's where shit gets fucked up. That's where the meltdowns all emerge from. It's almost like I get a sense of imposter syndrome when I don't feel I match my ideal perception of myself. Now, some may say that's 1) normal, and 2) psychotic.... (but you can't spell "psychotic" without "hot" HUUURRRR) but it's honestly how I truly feel. 

Ehh...... I'll let you know if I figure anything out. It's 12:08am right now and I'm feeling a bit deflated. The best medicine I can suggest to myself in order to remedy this feeling of guilt and shame and whatever is to cosy up in my pyjamas, snuggle down, and watch Friends. 

🌙🌟

Edit: 1:51am now. Classic Belle: I’m still sitting here dressed in my fishnets, makeup still upon my face, thoughts still whirring. Oh you will never learn....

Current Music: Delusion - Currents

The Isolation Adventures: Day 6?.....7?.....9....? Fuck it, I don't know anymore.

Didn't take long for me to lose count, did it?

Aaaaaand today, on "Isolation Madness: How Long Until YOU Lose Your Shit?" I embark upon the dubious task of writing an oh-so-necessary journal entry that describes absolutely nothing of worth! Fantastic! (Eyeroll emoji here).

Today was one of those days wherein I managed to escape the walls of my temporary home, and ventured out into the real world (Cue: shock and/or horror). Yey me!
In all seriousness, though, it was really lovely, actually. When you're forced to stay home it becomes incredibly stale incredibly quickly, and when paired with the requirement to sit with a hot laptop on your lap all day working ("working") away, it's a one-way ticket to loonysville, baby. So it was nice to actually get some fresh air into my lungs and play pretend like everything is normal. Normal. Normal.......... What's that?
So, off I went, strapped into my boots, and set out into the world to try to get some exercise because I've been feeling like my body is going to assume the form of a potato before long, if I don't start using my muscles soon even just a tiny bit. That's one markedly bad thing about sitting on your arse all day, you start flattening it out, and nobody wants that.

Unfortunately I have been out of the game somewhat regarding the internet-based-funzies, as I had to succumb and submit myself to assignment-hell in order to work my way through the two assignments that were looming over my head. I have fucking SURPRISED myself, though, as I pulled an all-nighter the day before yesterday, where I stayed awake into the night and didn't sleep until 8:30am. AND I only had two hours sleep before I awoke again, and dragged myself back to my laptop to spend the last couple of hours editing before sending it off. What a relief it was! I know I'm a student and all, but I don't think I'll get used to this sort of thing. The strange thing was, I was so utterly exhausted I was too tired to sleep. Do you know what I mean? I think the tutors are getting incredibly bored twiddling their thumbs locked in at home, because the mark for the assignment I submitted at midday yesterday was released last night. And before you ask, I got 70 FUCKING PERCENT. I honestly, TRULY cannot believe that, because I got myself so so worked up I thought it was going to come back as something dreadful like 30% and I was going to fuck up my entire degree. That sort of dread can really get the anxiety stomach churning. But thankfully the gods were looking down upon me that day!

Anyway, I will leave you all with a virus-related one-liner that made me laugh earlier: Hey baby are you Covid-19? Because I feel you inside me tonight....

🌙🌟

Current Music: Diamonds, The Birthday Massacre. Yes I'm still on that album....

So It's Come to This: The Isolation Adventures, Day Three

Ladies and Gentlemen, it's a shitshow.

The world is in dire straits; there is a very real sense of atmospheric chaos looming over all of us as we speak. Make no mistake, I am fully aware of the severity. The origin of such chaos comes from a virus of which I am sure will be penned into history books in the coming years, under the guise of what has been coined as its' most appropriate title: The Shitshow (Right click > Add to Dictionary). We are living history books, people. I am scared. We are all scared.

Anyway, now that that black cloud has rained all over my journal: I can take comfort in revealing that I am not ACTUALLY here to discuss The Shitshow. No.
I am here to discuss the happy repercussions of The Shitshow. Let's have a little more happiness. OK?
Something interesting is happening within the digital world..... Creators are creating, comedians are comeding, and there is a sense of unity and wholesomeness that is being promoted through various mediums of entertainment. Every day, now, there have been livestreams, broadcasts, and videos uploaded to various platforms so that generic members of the public such as myself can share enjoyment with one another. The internet is brimming with activity, and this brings me immeasurable joy. So, after spending the previous few months under the impression that my thirties will mirror my teenage years (spoiler: I'm pretty fucking sure they will do, although I look older now, I cry) I decided to embark upon the task of writing journal entries as a means for documenting my experience, as I used to keep a daily journal religiously during my late teens. Why the hell not?

I am on day three of isolation. Officially (kindly ignore that I've missed the first couple of days). However it may be said that I actually have been within The Isolation since Monday the 16th, after spending the previous weekend seeing my lovely friends and their adorable, adorable children. That was the last sense of normality that I have had. Our Prime Minister, Boris Johnson (*shudder*) has imposed some very strict but necessary rules in order to beat The Shitshow, which mean, in basic terms, that the entirety of fucking England has been placed upon the naughty step, because we have all been entirely bad, and we must stay indoors and think about what we have done (until this virus passes and normality may resume). My current adventures in isolation involve being marooned in Yorkshire with my Dad, which is relatively peaceful, however I do not have my creature comforts and I am sorely missing them. I'm also about two months away from finishing university and am experiencing the biggest writer's block of my life thus far, so I am writing this in the hopes of jogging my writer's muscle memory and persuading my words to behave and form themselves into cohesive sentences. How am I doing? Honestly, though, I think in some ways it does help me to sit here at my laptop and type freely - when there is more freedom, it is easier for creativity to flow. (Yeah that was cheesy but whatever I DON'T CARE).

So what am I doing with myself during this time? Watching copious amounts of TV, of course. I am pretty sure that Netflix, Amazon Video, and all the other streaming platforms will be reaping the benefits of the increased number of people stuck in their houses, bored out of their little skulls, binge watching the good stuff. Today's shows have been Brooklyn 99 and Father Ted, because I am a strange person and only seem to watch comedies these days. But I just think, whatever is going on around me, it's lovely to have some silly show playing to itself in the background, canned laughter floating through the air and silly jokes piercing into my focus as I work. (And by work I mean procrastinate, obviously. Case in point, by the way - I was just hilariously interrupted by Father Jack yelling "SHUT THE FECK UP!"). I also expect that another hilarious consequence of The Isolation could see a boom in babies born this December...... If that turns out to be true, I am 100% going to laugh. If we make it to December, that is..... (FUCKING OMINOUS)

So I actually ventured out of the house earlier! Oh - That's one thing I forgot to mention. Yes, we are on the naughty step. BUT. We are permitted to leave the house ONCE A DAY in order to go shopping, to fuck - I mean, - err... To exercise.... and other such trivial pursuits. So I went off in order to search for some hairdressing scissors, because I badly badly need to give my hair a trim, but unfortunately I had no joy as apparently hairdressing scissors are elusive and do not exist anywhere in Chapeltown. Thanks, universe! Fucking great!

Anyway. This has been a rather long introduction to the journalling world. But I think this has been a good workout for my mind, and I hope that now I can return to the word document that is waiting for me behind this window, and GET IT DONE. Wish me luck!

Off I go.....

🌙🌟

Current Music: That new TBM album that I'm burning to fuck on repeat over and over, yeah, I have music and the TV on at the same time, fight me, I LIKE COMMAS