A corny, inspirational post is needed, I think. No? Well you're getting one.
Grease is a classic, right? It's the ultimate musical. However, one thing that gets on my nerves is that Danny liked the nice Sandy: the Sandy who wore pastel colours; the Sandy who blushed; the Sandy who was a little bit scared. Why did she have to change to fit in with "cool" to get Danny? Ok, so when Sandy's strutting her leather-covered-stuff, all of us are staring, wishing that we could do that, but a part of us is sad: we liked nice Sandy, didn't we? So, why, when someone decides to patronise a feature of our personality, belittling something quirky about us, do we let it get to us, a like to sweet Sandy?
I think a sad reality of this world is that sometimes people make others feel small without meaning to. Now, I'm not saying that it's worse than doing it intentionally (although it might be for some), but it is still hurtful because the person judging you for not going to that party because you want to spend a night with your family won't realise that they're making you question yourself. Is that "lame"? Really? Someone that's your friend twists the knife a little. I'd like to think that I don't do this to people and I really hope that this is true, because I know that when someone raises their eyebrow at something to do with my life or they make a snide comment, I feel myself unable to speak, a little thrown aback. How do I respond to that? Why did they say that in front of everybody? Why should I feel bad about myself because of that? Instead I smile politely and let it get right underneath my skin! Instead, I should, yes, smile politely, take pride in that I'd never do that to someone and well... forget about it!
When it comes to who you are, you don't have to explain yourself to anyone. You're your own person and that's why you're different to that person frowning upon your individual ways and judgements. More importantly, you don't have to change for anyone. Equally, you don't have to prove yourself. I always feel really really tiny when someone tells me something about a characteristic of mine, something that may be true or something that's not and I feel like I need to shout from the rooftops that I'm not the person that they think I am. I don't, and that's because I am who I am and what that person is pointing out wouldn't be a flaw anyway. At the end of the day, I need to think that they're not meaning for it to come across as a flaw, it just is. That's their problem, not mine.
Don't apologise for who you are. If your friend thinks that you should justify yourself for not having the same outlook on life that they have, then know with ease that they haven't figured their own individual characteristics out yet. Bite your tongue, hold your head high and all that jazz! Although I don't doubt that you were fantastic as new, leather-covered-Sandy, pastel Sandy, you were awesome.
Well, as Nick Carraway says: "They're a rotten crowd. You're worth the whole damn bunch put together."
Handmade Lemonade & Sunshine,
The Girl in the Moonlight.
Friday, 31 May 2013
Wednesday, 29 May 2013
The Great Gatsby!!11!Leonardo!1Toby11!!
*Contains traces of spoiler*
I love the cinema. I love getting lost in a world painted before me, the darkness making me forget about the world outside, the hour of the day. Watching, loving The Great Gatsby, getting lost in the glitz and the glam, disgusted and yet intrigued by the immorality beneath the glistening surface, I was completely lost in the story and "the whisperings and the champagne and the stars".
Last year I read The Great Gatsby because my friend told me it was a classic. From reading it within a day, I obviously agreed. I was watching the film and in my head I was naming the different parts by the chapter and, therefore the film largely kept to the book and I could not be more grateful for this. For this reason, I don't believe that the film deserves the not-quite-so-amazing film reviews. I really really loved it.
The imagery of the film, I thought, was fabulous. It was classy in East Egg, exciting in West Egg, solemn in the Valley of Ashes and tacky in Myrtle and Tom's apartment. Despite how - according to my GCSE History knowledge - the parties and social side to 1920s America being frowned upon, I feel like girls of my age love the idea and the film captured the flappy dresses and short haircuts beautifully. It was all so extravagant, just like the lovely Gatsby.
So, I'll address the point that causes my heart to pound a little: Leonardo DiCaprio and Toby Maguire. Throughout the film I just kept seeing Jack Dawson and heck, has that man aged well. He was beautiful and played the part of Gatsby incredibly: he was classy, elegant in his "beautiful shirts" and intriguing. Every time he uttered "old sport", charm oozed out of Mr. DiCaprio and I can easily say that he was perfect for the role. Toby Maguire was also too sweet-looking for my heart to take. I felt like the film focused a lot more around Nick, the narrator and his character, a like to the novel, allowed me to - and as Nick eventually does - cast negative judgements on the characters, on all but one character, of course.
Gatsby could be seen negatively with his eyes seemingly drawn only to wealth, but I have never doubted his love for Daisy, whether she deserved it or not, however, is, well... No. She does not deserve the sweet Gatsby. The wealth seeming to be a plan to win over Daisy - which, of course, it was - was triumphed, in the film, by his incredible love for her. As I was drawn to Gatsby, I felt like Gatsby's ending of believing it was Daisy who called, was perfect. He deserved to be happy.
Nick Carraway, in the novel, is made clear to reserve all judgements and Fitzgerald made this clear in a different way, I felt, to how the film did. In the film, the moral decay swaying Nick's opinions seemed more obvious through his facial expressions, however, he did, still remain, incredibly polite and above all other characters in the film.
Ultimately, I loved it.
Old & New Money,
The Girl in the Moonlight.
I love the cinema. I love getting lost in a world painted before me, the darkness making me forget about the world outside, the hour of the day. Watching, loving The Great Gatsby, getting lost in the glitz and the glam, disgusted and yet intrigued by the immorality beneath the glistening surface, I was completely lost in the story and "the whisperings and the champagne and the stars".
Last year I read The Great Gatsby because my friend told me it was a classic. From reading it within a day, I obviously agreed. I was watching the film and in my head I was naming the different parts by the chapter and, therefore the film largely kept to the book and I could not be more grateful for this. For this reason, I don't believe that the film deserves the not-quite-so-amazing film reviews. I really really loved it.
The imagery of the film, I thought, was fabulous. It was classy in East Egg, exciting in West Egg, solemn in the Valley of Ashes and tacky in Myrtle and Tom's apartment. Despite how - according to my GCSE History knowledge - the parties and social side to 1920s America being frowned upon, I feel like girls of my age love the idea and the film captured the flappy dresses and short haircuts beautifully. It was all so extravagant, just like the lovely Gatsby.
So, I'll address the point that causes my heart to pound a little: Leonardo DiCaprio and Toby Maguire. Throughout the film I just kept seeing Jack Dawson and heck, has that man aged well. He was beautiful and played the part of Gatsby incredibly: he was classy, elegant in his "beautiful shirts" and intriguing. Every time he uttered "old sport", charm oozed out of Mr. DiCaprio and I can easily say that he was perfect for the role. Toby Maguire was also too sweet-looking for my heart to take. I felt like the film focused a lot more around Nick, the narrator and his character, a like to the novel, allowed me to - and as Nick eventually does - cast negative judgements on the characters, on all but one character, of course.
Gatsby could be seen negatively with his eyes seemingly drawn only to wealth, but I have never doubted his love for Daisy, whether she deserved it or not, however, is, well... No. She does not deserve the sweet Gatsby. The wealth seeming to be a plan to win over Daisy - which, of course, it was - was triumphed, in the film, by his incredible love for her. As I was drawn to Gatsby, I felt like Gatsby's ending of believing it was Daisy who called, was perfect. He deserved to be happy.
Nick Carraway, in the novel, is made clear to reserve all judgements and Fitzgerald made this clear in a different way, I felt, to how the film did. In the film, the moral decay swaying Nick's opinions seemed more obvious through his facial expressions, however, he did, still remain, incredibly polite and above all other characters in the film.
Ultimately, I loved it.
Old & New Money,
The Girl in the Moonlight.
Monday, 27 May 2013
The Fabulous Billy and Me
*Contains traces of spoiler*
Fabulous. This is, of course the first word that comes to mind when I recall my 24 hour journey with Billy and Sophie. The next words would be sweet, tragic, heart-breaking, eye-opening, charming. Feet up, slouchy-leave-me-alone-it's-time-to-read-Billy and Me-clothes on, a glass of water by my side, I was ready to easily fall into the world of Sophie May. Oh, and how I did fall.
A novel with a small village, a shop selling homemade cakes and the same people you've known all your life: sounds picturesque, right? Sophie May experiences the tough side of the intimacy of her home, all through her secret, her sad past. Eventually picking herself back up, Sophie is a lovely and homely girl who catches the attention of Billy Buskin, "teen hot-shot" and here is where Sophie's life becomes more like a fairy-tale, but also a little scarier too.
I was constantly "aw"ing at the romantic gestures and words of Billy and sighing at the sadness of the reality behind fame and crying at the heart-breaking moments but smiling at the morals behind the events. I like that Billy teaches Sophie to have a better opinon of herself and that Sophie teaches Billy the result of being egotistical - and the beauty behind reading a book! I like the peace that the characters find and the dreams that the characters achieve. I love the relationships.
Sophie and Molly being best friends is something that highlights the beauty of the novel: the age between the two of them being invisible in their friendship. Sophie's confidence is shown to be down to Molly, the woman with "one of the biggest hearts", but what I felt, despite Sophie never admitting it, was that the two of them needed each other. Sophie was Molly's saviour too.
It's so awesome to see the fantastic reviews about Billy and Me, reviews from book-fans. It must be amazing for Giovanna to receive complements her creation. In the long-run, I suppose I read the novel because of Tom [Fletcher], but I know, being a chick-lit fan, that I would have found this beauty. I read Gi's article about her "modest success" being compared to Tom's, but she has made this novel a huge, huge success. I have been a fan of Gi for a long long time and it has been epitomised by one of my favourite books of all time (that I read in less than 24 hours because of its grippingness): Billy and Me. Thank you Gi for giving me another perfect character to dream about at night. I love you Billy.
You're cool as ice-cubes Gi and a bloomin' great writer!
Multicoloured Tulips & Wellington Boots,
The Girl in the Moonlight.
P.s. 5 stars to Mrs Giovanna Fletcher. Buy it HERE.
Fabulous. This is, of course the first word that comes to mind when I recall my 24 hour journey with Billy and Sophie. The next words would be sweet, tragic, heart-breaking, eye-opening, charming. Feet up, slouchy-leave-me-alone-it's-time-to-read-Billy and Me-clothes on, a glass of water by my side, I was ready to easily fall into the world of Sophie May. Oh, and how I did fall.
A novel with a small village, a shop selling homemade cakes and the same people you've known all your life: sounds picturesque, right? Sophie May experiences the tough side of the intimacy of her home, all through her secret, her sad past. Eventually picking herself back up, Sophie is a lovely and homely girl who catches the attention of Billy Buskin, "teen hot-shot" and here is where Sophie's life becomes more like a fairy-tale, but also a little scarier too.
I was constantly "aw"ing at the romantic gestures and words of Billy and sighing at the sadness of the reality behind fame and crying at the heart-breaking moments but smiling at the morals behind the events. I like that Billy teaches Sophie to have a better opinon of herself and that Sophie teaches Billy the result of being egotistical - and the beauty behind reading a book! I like the peace that the characters find and the dreams that the characters achieve. I love the relationships.
Sophie and Molly being best friends is something that highlights the beauty of the novel: the age between the two of them being invisible in their friendship. Sophie's confidence is shown to be down to Molly, the woman with "one of the biggest hearts", but what I felt, despite Sophie never admitting it, was that the two of them needed each other. Sophie was Molly's saviour too.
It's so awesome to see the fantastic reviews about Billy and Me, reviews from book-fans. It must be amazing for Giovanna to receive complements her creation. In the long-run, I suppose I read the novel because of Tom [Fletcher], but I know, being a chick-lit fan, that I would have found this beauty. I read Gi's article about her "modest success" being compared to Tom's, but she has made this novel a huge, huge success. I have been a fan of Gi for a long long time and it has been epitomised by one of my favourite books of all time (that I read in less than 24 hours because of its grippingness): Billy and Me. Thank you Gi for giving me another perfect character to dream about at night. I love you Billy.
You're cool as ice-cubes Gi and a bloomin' great writer!
Multicoloured Tulips & Wellington Boots,
The Girl in the Moonlight.
P.s. 5 stars to Mrs Giovanna Fletcher. Buy it HERE.
Friday, 24 May 2013
The Stairs To Success
Success is a concept that people crave, an ideal that people work towards every day. Success can make people greedy and oblivious to the world around them, but success can be pretty special. When you've worked for it, when you've taken the stairs, that is.
As I've seen my parents work hard, juggle a fair few jobs, raised me and my brother to be, well, delightful *winky face inserted here* young people, I know that, as they've allowed for there to be a slightly higher platform for me and my brother, - we've been able to skip a flight of stairs, you may say - I can dream another dream and succeed to the floor that I'd like to. Crazy metaphor there - I barely kept up!
"There is no elevator to success. You have to take the stairs."
I read this quote on Louise's (Sprinkle of Glitter) blog and it really made me think. I'm from a family that has made me know that there is in fact "no elevator to success" and that the success that gives someone the most pride is one that has been made on their own accord: their own little prize for all of the hard-work.
Two people who I appreciate have worked to achieve a life that they want, a not-quite-comfortable-life, but one that they should (and do!) treasure because they made it is my mum and dad. They both have the jobs that they want because they've worked: like, really worked. Not only this, but they've made sure that family-life hasn't suffered. I hope that they're proud that they've produced a life that they may not have been expected to be able to when they were my age. The careers they have, the opportunities they're able to present to me and my brother, that's a huge success. The best success. What's more, their success means I've learnt the value of things, learnt the value of ambition. You can't argue with that, ay?
As I've seen my parents work hard, juggle a fair few jobs, raised me and my brother to be, well, delightful *winky face inserted here* young people, I know that, as they've allowed for there to be a slightly higher platform for me and my brother, - we've been able to skip a flight of stairs, you may say - I can dream another dream and succeed to the floor that I'd like to. Crazy metaphor there - I barely kept up!
It should be mentioned that success isn't just your job, your house, your salary, success is happiness. I feel at ease with my future with the knowledge that I will work hard, I'll try and get the job of my dreams (whatever that is), but the success that I will achieve doesn't just lie in the hands of whether I can afford designer or high street (ignoring the fact I'd prefer high street clothes!) clothes. When it comes down to it, success should be measured by what you want it to be and that's the way it should be.
The conclusion? I'll work, I'll graft... I'll take the stairs.
The conclusion? I'll work, I'll graft... I'll take the stairs.
Dreams & Ambition,
The Girl in the Moonlight.
Wednesday, 22 May 2013
Stars Hold the Potential to Save One's Life
I was probably about twelve when I was sat watching the night's sky - this sounds mysterious and mermaid-like but it's not - and this popped into my head. I had my own little saying: "stars hold the potential to save one's life". I still believe it today.
In my head, I think that the idea of stars holding the potential to save people lies within the solitude that exists when watching the stars. For me, looking at the night's sky allows me to rebalance thoughts in my head and think more clearly. It gives me a chance to forget about the world outside of my little calm bubble: the stars save me from reality and save me from thinking reality isn't good enough.
I have a book that I treasure with my heart; my heart that lives with the words of A. A. Milne. This book is Winnie the Pooh, The Complete Collection of Stories and Poems and one of my favourite poems in the book is called Solitude:
I have a house where I go
When there's too many people,
I have a house where I go
Where no one can be;
I have a house where I go,
Where nobody ever says "No"
Where no one says anything - so
There is no one but me.
Reading it now gives me shivers. My place of solitude, the place where "no one says anything" is my room. It's the one place I can rely on to be quiet, to be alone and this poem captures exactly why I need it. Sometimes "there's too many people", too many thoughts and too much stress and a state of solitude is needed.
Solitude isn't loneliness, merely being alone and allowing oneself to reconsider values. When I'm needing an escape and I evacuate to my own little "house", solitude saves me. I think the idea is underrated.
My Room & Stars,
The Girl in the Moonlight.
In my head, I think that the idea of stars holding the potential to save people lies within the solitude that exists when watching the stars. For me, looking at the night's sky allows me to rebalance thoughts in my head and think more clearly. It gives me a chance to forget about the world outside of my little calm bubble: the stars save me from reality and save me from thinking reality isn't good enough.
I have a book that I treasure with my heart; my heart that lives with the words of A. A. Milne. This book is Winnie the Pooh, The Complete Collection of Stories and Poems and one of my favourite poems in the book is called Solitude:
I have a house where I go
When there's too many people,
I have a house where I go
Where no one can be;
I have a house where I go,
Where nobody ever says "No"
Where no one says anything - so
There is no one but me.
Reading it now gives me shivers. My place of solitude, the place where "no one says anything" is my room. It's the one place I can rely on to be quiet, to be alone and this poem captures exactly why I need it. Sometimes "there's too many people", too many thoughts and too much stress and a state of solitude is needed.
Solitude isn't loneliness, merely being alone and allowing oneself to reconsider values. When I'm needing an escape and I evacuate to my own little "house", solitude saves me. I think the idea is underrated.
My Room & Stars,
The Girl in the Moonlight.
Monday, 20 May 2013
Harry Potter and Gameboys
It is known that those outside of the UK picture us who live in the UK as always sitting in the garden with cream tea, shaded by frilly umbrellas, the men with suits and a pocket watch, the latest right-wing broadsheet newspaper entertaining the smile below their moustaches. Of course, my generation know very differently to such image: a better image.
I am, despite some flaws, very proud to have been brought up in the generation of game consoles and Pokémon. I am also proud of the Britishness that I have been brought up with: the words of J. K. Rowling, a love for our monarch and a strong need to watch a string of soaps in the evenings.
Harry Potter has taught me so much. Not only did it teach me that fear can easily be translated into courage, it taught me the important of friendship. It taught me forgiveness: Harry saving Draco after...everything. I was brought up with such an awesome series of novels, a kick-butt set of films. J. K. Rowling for Prime Minister.
It's no secret that the love for the monarch was lost for a while, but whenever I think of Prince William's charming smile, Kate's flawless dress and Prince Harry and his antics, I can't help but feel pride in our nation and all it has become. Whenever the monarchy is brought up an excited conversation begins and I love that I have lived to truly experience events such as the Royal Wedding of Prince William and Kate and the Queen's 60 years on the throne.
Naturally the more time goes on, the more tolerant our nation becomes, the more "modern" its institutions become and this means more tolerant people, more open-minded people. I'm proud to have been brought up in the 90s/00s because it is for this reason that I don't look at the world with stereotypes and ignorant opinions. Harry Potter taught me kindness; the monarch has taught me that forgiveness is possible when for a while it was hopeless; soaps have taught me... Well, ok, soaps haven't taught me anything but they create good family-bonding-time (where you shout at Phil Mitchell for his wrong-doings)!
Proud to be a nineties kid,
Freddos & Chocolate Frogs,
The Girl in the Moonlight.
P.S. I just read this back, months after posting and was thinking: Why on earth did I think "Gameboys" were stereotypically "British"? I do not know.
I am, despite some flaws, very proud to have been brought up in the generation of game consoles and Pokémon. I am also proud of the Britishness that I have been brought up with: the words of J. K. Rowling, a love for our monarch and a strong need to watch a string of soaps in the evenings.
Harry Potter has taught me so much. Not only did it teach me that fear can easily be translated into courage, it taught me the important of friendship. It taught me forgiveness: Harry saving Draco after...everything. I was brought up with such an awesome series of novels, a kick-butt set of films. J. K. Rowling for Prime Minister.
It's no secret that the love for the monarch was lost for a while, but whenever I think of Prince William's charming smile, Kate's flawless dress and Prince Harry and his antics, I can't help but feel pride in our nation and all it has become. Whenever the monarchy is brought up an excited conversation begins and I love that I have lived to truly experience events such as the Royal Wedding of Prince William and Kate and the Queen's 60 years on the throne.
Naturally the more time goes on, the more tolerant our nation becomes, the more "modern" its institutions become and this means more tolerant people, more open-minded people. I'm proud to have been brought up in the 90s/00s because it is for this reason that I don't look at the world with stereotypes and ignorant opinions. Harry Potter taught me kindness; the monarch has taught me that forgiveness is possible when for a while it was hopeless; soaps have taught me... Well, ok, soaps haven't taught me anything but they create good family-bonding-time (where you shout at Phil Mitchell for his wrong-doings)!
Proud to be a nineties kid,
Freddos & Chocolate Frogs,
The Girl in the Moonlight.
P.S. I just read this back, months after posting and was thinking: Why on earth did I think "Gameboys" were stereotypically "British"? I do not know.
Friday, 17 May 2013
"Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost," J.J.R. Tolkien
I'm not sure that I have ever known what I want to do with my life. While all of my toddler buddies were deciding that they were aspiring astronauts and nurses, five year old me would toddle on, oblivious to the world, probably tripping over something on the way, humming a bit too loudly, dreaming about some alternative world somewhere where I was friends with Fizz from The Tweenies. Wandering through life, but not lost.
I dream of an exciting other world in a different way to others. When I was ten and my friends were dreaming about a world where they were in the next world-wide girl band or the next Keira Knightley, I was aching to be in a world where I was part of all of these exciting storylines I was reading. I was never happier than I was when I was reading a story. I think my parents thought they were lucky to have such a strange kid and confused as to what they did wrong at the same time (obviously not really). I'd go on sleepovers at the weekend and then come home and re-read a novel I'd already ready a thousand times before. I don't think my parents actually realised how much I loved to read, how much I loved those worlds, but it's contributed to my love for novels and fantasy worlds and a more perfect place than here. It contributed to my dreams that are a little out of this world.
Is it important that I wander maybe a little more than others? That when someone says "future" I panic and hide behind a wavering smile? I don't know where I'm heading but there's something exciting about that. My future's not mapped out a head of me, a list of things to achieve in my life is not written, not planned. I wish I did know, but I'm bumbling along, and a bit of bumbling along the way never hurt anyone, ay?
I think - I think - the point I'm trying to make is that you don't always have to know where you're going with your life. The whole as long as you stay true to who you are things plays a big part here. As long as your heart is in what you're doing, plans can wait for another day. Isn't a bit too much of life spent thinking and worrying and planning the next step...the next big thing? Yes, I think so. If you spend your life attempting to achieve your next goal, (as much as you should!) life may be clouded with, not ambition, but the lack of seeing the lovely world in front of you.
Rhubarb & Custard,
The Girl in the Moonlight.
I dream of an exciting other world in a different way to others. When I was ten and my friends were dreaming about a world where they were in the next world-wide girl band or the next Keira Knightley, I was aching to be in a world where I was part of all of these exciting storylines I was reading. I was never happier than I was when I was reading a story. I think my parents thought they were lucky to have such a strange kid and confused as to what they did wrong at the same time (obviously not really). I'd go on sleepovers at the weekend and then come home and re-read a novel I'd already ready a thousand times before. I don't think my parents actually realised how much I loved to read, how much I loved those worlds, but it's contributed to my love for novels and fantasy worlds and a more perfect place than here. It contributed to my dreams that are a little out of this world.
Is it important that I wander maybe a little more than others? That when someone says "future" I panic and hide behind a wavering smile? I don't know where I'm heading but there's something exciting about that. My future's not mapped out a head of me, a list of things to achieve in my life is not written, not planned. I wish I did know, but I'm bumbling along, and a bit of bumbling along the way never hurt anyone, ay?
I think - I think - the point I'm trying to make is that you don't always have to know where you're going with your life. The whole as long as you stay true to who you are things plays a big part here. As long as your heart is in what you're doing, plans can wait for another day. Isn't a bit too much of life spent thinking and worrying and planning the next step...the next big thing? Yes, I think so. If you spend your life attempting to achieve your next goal, (as much as you should!) life may be clouded with, not ambition, but the lack of seeing the lovely world in front of you.
Rhubarb & Custard,
The Girl in the Moonlight.
Wednesday, 15 May 2013
Ignorance is Far From Bliss
Ignorance, whether it be not wearing a seatbelt (ALWAYS WEAR A SEATBELT) or refusing to accept the importance of exams and equally not excepting that they are not the most important thing in the world, will never be a good thing. I'd say everyone is ignorant towards something and it could be big or small; one thing or lots of things. Most of the time, it would seem that ignorance is far from bliss.
I don't believe that ignorance is the same as being naïve or having a positive mind-set. Believing the world is full of lovely people who all have lovely motives isn't ignorance; it could be a bit of a dangerous way of thinking, but all the same, it's not seeing things without thinking and opening the mind to other options, other viewpoints and situations.
Ignorance is when a particular individual doesn't understand something and refuses to even try.
Well, that's what ignorance is in my mind. Being in the outside world, I'd say ignorance is all around. We may not always be in tune to it, - showing that we've almost become ignorant to the notion itself - but it's always there: creeping on the surface of a slightly unstable society. Small, horrible, ignorant comments are made on a daily basis; people picking out things about other people or making a disgusting comment on a broader issue. These can often be quietened with a scowl, letting them know that the wall they've put up that deflects thoughts outside of their small minds is, well...ignorant.
This is becoming a rant. Reel it back, reel it back.
It seems that sometimes, when an issue is a little abstract to an individual, they cling to their thoughts; the views and opinions that they had before becoming a safety net once the abstract idea becomes a little more real. Maybe they saw the reality of a situation that they would have made a small-minded comment about and after seeing proof, hearing the other side, they retreated back into their mind; their secure, ignorant state of thinking.
This is sad, is it not?
So, what am I ignorant about? I would say that being someone who has been brought up in a time where movements such as gay marriage (which once would have been unthinkable) are rarely met with a stunned expression, that I'm not ignorant to "modern"* ideas. I feel grateful for this. I'm definitely ignorant to the other opinion on such issues and although I do not consider this a flaw, it makes me a little too feisty when explaining my side (cough, the right side) of the argument.
I've gone off on a tangent again and I can't wheel myself back to the point I was making. My ignorance. Well, I'm a teenager and so naturally (this very statement has undertones of bitterness and ignorance) I can't always see my parent's side. I'm a kid with the utmost respect for my parents and I expect them to see this when they think I'm the devil child and can't understand that they don't trust my judgement. Now, this is ignorance. I know it is. They want me safe, they want me free from harm and I can't always open my mind up to the danger that they see. Knowing myself and my limitations, I wouldn't say this is particularly harmful, but I should probably sit back and allow my parents to feel comfort by me agreeing to their argument.
Some ignorance, however, is dangerous and this danger is mostly sparked from, well, opinions.
So, I roll my eyes and sigh. Before expressing an opinion, allowing yourself to say something that may harm people more than you know, realise that you may not be educated enough on the subject to speak about it. Do you know the whole story? Maybe you don't have a relative or someone close to you going through the sad topic in mind, but someone else might. Heck, you may be preaching, shouting your ill-informed opinions to a person going through something that you refuse to understand. Ignorance isn't bliss. Ignorance is plain stupid.
Tea & Biscuits,
The Girl in the Moonlight.
*Please note that these movements should by no means be considered modern; I simply mean that they are new in the spectrum of things and this sucks!
I don't believe that ignorance is the same as being naïve or having a positive mind-set. Believing the world is full of lovely people who all have lovely motives isn't ignorance; it could be a bit of a dangerous way of thinking, but all the same, it's not seeing things without thinking and opening the mind to other options, other viewpoints and situations.
Ignorance is when a particular individual doesn't understand something and refuses to even try.
Well, that's what ignorance is in my mind. Being in the outside world, I'd say ignorance is all around. We may not always be in tune to it, - showing that we've almost become ignorant to the notion itself - but it's always there: creeping on the surface of a slightly unstable society. Small, horrible, ignorant comments are made on a daily basis; people picking out things about other people or making a disgusting comment on a broader issue. These can often be quietened with a scowl, letting them know that the wall they've put up that deflects thoughts outside of their small minds is, well...ignorant.
This is becoming a rant. Reel it back, reel it back.
It seems that sometimes, when an issue is a little abstract to an individual, they cling to their thoughts; the views and opinions that they had before becoming a safety net once the abstract idea becomes a little more real. Maybe they saw the reality of a situation that they would have made a small-minded comment about and after seeing proof, hearing the other side, they retreated back into their mind; their secure, ignorant state of thinking.
This is sad, is it not?
So, what am I ignorant about? I would say that being someone who has been brought up in a time where movements such as gay marriage (which once would have been unthinkable) are rarely met with a stunned expression, that I'm not ignorant to "modern"* ideas. I feel grateful for this. I'm definitely ignorant to the other opinion on such issues and although I do not consider this a flaw, it makes me a little too feisty when explaining my side (cough, the right side) of the argument.
I've gone off on a tangent again and I can't wheel myself back to the point I was making. My ignorance. Well, I'm a teenager and so naturally (this very statement has undertones of bitterness and ignorance) I can't always see my parent's side. I'm a kid with the utmost respect for my parents and I expect them to see this when they think I'm the devil child and can't understand that they don't trust my judgement. Now, this is ignorance. I know it is. They want me safe, they want me free from harm and I can't always open my mind up to the danger that they see. Knowing myself and my limitations, I wouldn't say this is particularly harmful, but I should probably sit back and allow my parents to feel comfort by me agreeing to their argument.
Some ignorance, however, is dangerous and this danger is mostly sparked from, well, opinions.
So, I roll my eyes and sigh. Before expressing an opinion, allowing yourself to say something that may harm people more than you know, realise that you may not be educated enough on the subject to speak about it. Do you know the whole story? Maybe you don't have a relative or someone close to you going through the sad topic in mind, but someone else might. Heck, you may be preaching, shouting your ill-informed opinions to a person going through something that you refuse to understand. Ignorance isn't bliss. Ignorance is plain stupid.
Tea & Biscuits,
The Girl in the Moonlight.
*Please note that these movements should by no means be considered modern; I simply mean that they are new in the spectrum of things and this sucks!
Monday, 13 May 2013
YouTubers: The Vamps
So, last year I fell in love with The Vamps who were at that point James, Brad and Tristan and every time they upload a new video I feel my heart smile a little more. The Vamps: James, Bradley, Tristan and Connor.
The Vamps are an Indie Pop band and a band that play their own instruments! There's nothing that makes me happier than a band that play their own instruments. They always put their own spin on the songs that they upload and their friendship makes me grin like a little fangirl. Original songs? Yup, they make me happy too. Wild Heart is my jam.
I remember first seeing their cover of We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together and after a day of listening to it my mum sighed: "another band you like then?". I was addicted from the start and seeing Connor joining The Vamps was definitely one of the sweetest things ever and it shows their awesome friendship; it's trés cute. I watched my twitter timeline explode with happiness!
I saw The Vamps at The Best of McFly tour and they were. Seriously. Incredible. I loved them so much and I am definitely going to be buying tickets for when they have their own tour! Support acts have a hard job but The Vamps were fabbityfab and there was no one complaining.
Dolly Mixture & Strawberry Laces,
The Girl in the Moonlight.
P.s. They're so pretty it makes my head hurt.
The Vamps are an Indie Pop band and a band that play their own instruments! There's nothing that makes me happier than a band that play their own instruments. They always put their own spin on the songs that they upload and their friendship makes me grin like a little fangirl. Original songs? Yup, they make me happy too. Wild Heart is my jam.I remember first seeing their cover of We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together and after a day of listening to it my mum sighed: "another band you like then?". I was addicted from the start and seeing Connor joining The Vamps was definitely one of the sweetest things ever and it shows their awesome friendship; it's trés cute. I watched my twitter timeline explode with happiness!
I saw The Vamps at The Best of McFly tour and they were. Seriously. Incredible. I loved them so much and I am definitely going to be buying tickets for when they have their own tour! Support acts have a hard job but The Vamps were fabbityfab and there was no one complaining.
Dolly Mixture & Strawberry Laces,
The Girl in the Moonlight.
P.s. They're so pretty it makes my head hurt.
Sunday, 12 May 2013
A Cynical Romantic Sees Love #2
It is Tom and Giovanna Fletcher's 1 year anniversary today (12/05/13) and I am celebrating with them, the hopeless romantic inside of me grinning at their perfect relationship.
Tom and Gi met when they were 13 years old and before a good few years of "being together and breaking up again" they were together for good at 18 years old. Each McRelationship makes me believe in love and all for different reasons. Tom and Gi make me dream about having my own fairy-tale because they are childhood sweethearts that are so similar, making them best friends in love. Like a Disney dream, huh?
Even through a computer screen their love is too much for me to handle: video one that makes me cry; video 2 that makes me cry. The whole world and their auntie saw Tom and Gi's love and sheer happiness in that little youtube video that caused every Galaxy Defender to cry with pride. Gi was smiling and laughing all the way through and I love watching that; it's too sweet. When Tom turned to Gi and sang his altered version of All About You, I knew that before I ever agree to marry someone, (as my dad says, "if anyone wants to marry you") they must sign a document that guarantees them singing their wedding speech to me. And (big apologies to my year three teacher for starting a sentence with "and") then came the choir. Tom Fletcher, you break my heart. There's so much meaning behind that speech and behind Tom and Gi's relationship and when I first watched the speech, my tears were moisturising my face and I still can't get through it without a good ol' cry! What's more, Tom decides to cry and allows every pessimist and cynical romantic to reconsider their values and watch the real-life version of love. Every picture I see of Tom and Gi depicts love and happiness and I love reading things they've said about each other:
No one can argue with their love. No one could even try. Tom and Gi prove love exists and they also prove that friendship plays a huge part. Pictures of them together, smiling at each other prove that love is achievable; love is effortless. Yes, I'm just a fan with a heart that involves everything to do with the boys' lives, but they seem to bring out the best in each other and that's all that anyone really wants, right?
Happy 1 Year Wedding Anniversary Tiovanna! Have an amazing forever.
Your Smile & Mine,
The Girl in the Moonlight.
P.s. - My blogpost about being A Hopeless Romantic That Doesn't Believe In Love.
- A Cynical Romantic Sees Love #1.
Tom and Gi met when they were 13 years old and before a good few years of "being together and breaking up again" they were together for good at 18 years old. Each McRelationship makes me believe in love and all for different reasons. Tom and Gi make me dream about having my own fairy-tale because they are childhood sweethearts that are so similar, making them best friends in love. Like a Disney dream, huh?
Even through a computer screen their love is too much for me to handle: video one that makes me cry; video 2 that makes me cry. The whole world and their auntie saw Tom and Gi's love and sheer happiness in that little youtube video that caused every Galaxy Defender to cry with pride. Gi was smiling and laughing all the way through and I love watching that; it's too sweet. When Tom turned to Gi and sang his altered version of All About You, I knew that before I ever agree to marry someone, (as my dad says, "if anyone wants to marry you") they must sign a document that guarantees them singing their wedding speech to me. And (big apologies to my year three teacher for starting a sentence with "and") then came the choir. Tom Fletcher, you break my heart. There's so much meaning behind that speech and behind Tom and Gi's relationship and when I first watched the speech, my tears were moisturising my face and I still can't get through it without a good ol' cry! What's more, Tom decides to cry and allows every pessimist and cynical romantic to reconsider their values and watch the real-life version of love. Every picture I see of Tom and Gi depicts love and happiness and I love reading things they've said about each other:
"Tom was the first person to suggest I'd be good at writing a novel and I know he's proud of what I've created."
No one can argue with their love. No one could even try. Tom and Gi prove love exists and they also prove that friendship plays a huge part. Pictures of them together, smiling at each other prove that love is achievable; love is effortless. Yes, I'm just a fan with a heart that involves everything to do with the boys' lives, but they seem to bring out the best in each other and that's all that anyone really wants, right?
Happy 1 Year Wedding Anniversary Tiovanna! Have an amazing forever.
Your Smile & Mine,
The Girl in the Moonlight.
P.s. - My blogpost about being A Hopeless Romantic That Doesn't Believe In Love.
- A Cynical Romantic Sees Love #1.
Friday, 10 May 2013
McFly - The Best of McFly Tour
Here, I was going to list all of McFly's incredible achievements, but no, I will not. Ignorant are those who ignore McFly's obvious success and one place where McFly kick butt and show that they are no band to be reckoned with is on tour. (*Contains traces of spoilers*.)
It is known that McFly are happiest within their career and enjoying their music the most when they are on tour and heck do they deliver! Being a fangirl from the start, when I'm waiting for my favourite people to grace the stage, anticipation building, heart full with joy, I feel myself remembering the majority of my life that has been highlighted with those lovely four boys and this tour made my emotions go from "omgtheyarekillingmewiththeirperfectionlookattheirfacessohappy" to "lookatthemlookathowtalentedtheyarethetearsarehereTHETEARSAREHERE". As always this. Tour. Was. Fab.
The set list. Let's talk set list.
From old school classics to iconic Galaxy Defender songs to gerroffffff your feet and dance like you're a rock star whoppers, the set list was incredible. For a lot of my McFly-Fangirl-career I have wished to see Bubble Wrap live and I stood, incapable to do anything but stare, stare at the perfection: the perfection that is McFly. That song always gives me shivers and I felt myself fall into my own little galaxy listening in awe at the performance.
One of my favourite things is going to the theatre and so I was obviously (pun intended) thrilled at how The Best of McFly Tour was set up: it was beautiful. Ant, Mr Antastic being the presenter was awesome. His beauty was too much and I was really belly-laughing at his jokes. ANTONY BRANT I HEART YOU. The suits - THE SUITS. They looked beautifulgorgeousperfect (as per, as per). With their banter in between, their friendship as obvious as ever, the changing of some lyrics - cheeky! - and their amazing talent of making me have the greatest night of my life, - as they always do - this tour was incredible.
After a gig, I always seem to spend my journey back thinking of the seven-year-old-me, sat on my bedroom floor, the 5 Colours in Her Hair single on repeat, booming out of my CD player that only ever knew McFly and cutting out pictures of the boys from magazines. I swore then that I'd love them forever and I still stick to that promise. Tom, Harry, Dougie, Danny: I love you with all of my heart and you have been and will continue to be the soundtrack to my life!
McFly: thank you for an incredible night. My throat may be dying and my legs in too much pain, but I consider them gig-wounds and I will treasure them until the next time!
Galaxy Defenders Stay Forever!
Broccoli & Bubblewrap,
The Girl in the Moonlight.
P.s. Tom: your voice was incredible, so don't you be sad.
P.p.s. The Vamps were fab.
It is known that McFly are happiest within their career and enjoying their music the most when they are on tour and heck do they deliver! Being a fangirl from the start, when I'm waiting for my favourite people to grace the stage, anticipation building, heart full with joy, I feel myself remembering the majority of my life that has been highlighted with those lovely four boys and this tour made my emotions go from "omgtheyarekillingmewiththeirperfectionlookattheirfacessohappy" to "lookatthemlookathowtalentedtheyarethetearsarehereTHETEARSAREHERE". As always this. Tour. Was. Fab.
The set list. Let's talk set list.
From old school classics to iconic Galaxy Defender songs to gerroffffff your feet and dance like you're a rock star whoppers, the set list was incredible. For a lot of my McFly-Fangirl-career I have wished to see Bubble Wrap live and I stood, incapable to do anything but stare, stare at the perfection: the perfection that is McFly. That song always gives me shivers and I felt myself fall into my own little galaxy listening in awe at the performance.
One of my favourite things is going to the theatre and so I was obviously (pun intended) thrilled at how The Best of McFly Tour was set up: it was beautiful. Ant, Mr Antastic being the presenter was awesome. His beauty was too much and I was really belly-laughing at his jokes. ANTONY BRANT I HEART YOU. The suits - THE SUITS. They looked beautifulgorgeousperfect (as per, as per). With their banter in between, their friendship as obvious as ever, the changing of some lyrics - cheeky! - and their amazing talent of making me have the greatest night of my life, - as they always do - this tour was incredible.
After a gig, I always seem to spend my journey back thinking of the seven-year-old-me, sat on my bedroom floor, the 5 Colours in Her Hair single on repeat, booming out of my CD player that only ever knew McFly and cutting out pictures of the boys from magazines. I swore then that I'd love them forever and I still stick to that promise. Tom, Harry, Dougie, Danny: I love you with all of my heart and you have been and will continue to be the soundtrack to my life!
McFly: thank you for an incredible night. My throat may be dying and my legs in too much pain, but I consider them gig-wounds and I will treasure them until the next time!
Galaxy Defenders Stay Forever!
Broccoli & Bubblewrap,
The Girl in the Moonlight.
P.s. Tom: your voice was incredible, so don't you be sad.
P.p.s. The Vamps were fab.
Wednesday, 8 May 2013
Dear John: The Ending
*Contains traces of spoilers.*
I love the novel and the film of Dear John, both causing my emotions to self-destruct into a puddle of tears, however, the ending of the novel is very different to the film.
Closing the novel in the summer of '09, I was confused. Once again, Nicholas Sparks had left me in a daze; he made me think, made me wonder. They weren't together. Two of my favourite fictional characters did not end up with the ending that I wanted. Why was that? I was sad and emotional, but I simultaneously knew that Nicholas Sparks was teaching me a cruel but beautiful (and alright, in hindsight, necessary!) lesson.
After my mum read the novel, she comforted me, told me to stop crying and see the rainbow of a moral, the sunshine after a storm, the stars lighting the darkness: John was a good man. "It would be what he wanted," my mum said. I continued to wallow in self-pity before I found myself happier one Sunday evening. I saw the silver lining.
"I wanted them to be happy. I wanted her to be happy." It look me a long time to read this without crying but once I was enlightened by this silver lining, I smiled. The character of John Tyree touched me a lot and his ending opened my eyes. Even re-reading that Epilogue now makes me slightly nostalgic: longing for John and Savannah to have their story continue beyond the pages of the novel, but also feeling a comfort deep down in John's actions. In my eyes, the moon to John was Savannah and stood for everything good and everything sweet and innocent and pure. John watched as Savannah, too, relaxed in the moon's presence and to me, that is everything. That let me feel at peace and realise the beauty of that ending.
After reading the novel, I thought John had no future without Savannah. That's not true: John had memories and love in his heart and the knowledge that Savannah had that love too. John had the reminder that Savannah had made him a better man, a more caring man. Savannah gave John his future.
My book may be tear-stained, but my heart is smiling from the solemn, yet comforting ending to this novel.
My book may be tear-stained, but my heart is smiling from the solemn, yet comforting ending to this novel.
Happy Endings & Beginnings,
The Girl in the Moonlight.
P.s. I may have exaggerated slightly about my reaction to the end of the novel, however any description of how I outwardly acted was what I was bottling up inside.
Monday, 6 May 2013
Noah, I Could Be Your Allie
Do you ever fall so deeply for a fictional character that you find yourself thinking about them every moment of every day? To those of you honest enough to raise your hands, do not worry: you are not alone.
You have your Ron Weasley: a solid pal to his buddies and family but beneath it all he's a little hopeless romantic (*cough* and waiting for me to walk into his life). Then there's Dave the Laugh: cheeky and witty and perfectly sweet (oh and *cough* waiting for me to walk on into his life). There's also your Noah Calhoun: a sweetheart that turns into a man with sadness in his heart but yet underneath his beautifully-bearded exterior, he's still waiting for (me) Allie. [This list goes on for me and I've, in my head, committed bigamy a few several times.]
Once the Confessions of Georgia Nicolson series was over, I found myself frantically circling my room, wondering what my life was going to be without Dave the Laugh. I just had to marry him: I will marry him. Not only this, but I spent too much of my lesson time staring into space, imagining him throwing messages at me across the classroom or turning up at my house. At this point in the blog, I hope that I'm not the only person to experience such attachment to fictional* characters.
It was a strange experience when I finished The Hunger Games [no spoilers, I don't think]: I was confused that, once again, one of my favourite book series had ended and I wasn't with the perfect characters: neither Gale or Peeta. Where was my strong, yet sensitive bulk of a man? Equally, where was my sweet, yet damaged cuteness of a baker? I must write a letter of complaint.
Do not - do not - get me started on any Nicholas Sparks novel. Oop, you've got me started. Logan, Alex, Travis etc etc: where are you in my life? Nicholas Sparks is responsible for breaking my heart over and over again. His creations make me lose focus at college, dreaming of everything that we could be: holding hands on the front porch as the sun rises; spending the evenings on a boat. Heck, I will learn to paint. Noah, I could be your Allie.
I have spent the majority of my life falling in (and never out) of love with characters that are with me beyond the pages of all of these perfect novels. What's more, when I can't (when I never can) move on from one character, I'll open the next novel on the pile and fall into their worlds, adding, without fail, another perfect creation to my heart. (Hold the phone, we've got one player over here!) I can't even wish for these wonderful authors to stop breaking my heart with all of the amazinglovelyperfect characters, because I love the thrill of it. So, Ron, Dave, Peeta, Gale, Noah, Logan, Alex, Travis, any Nicholas Sparks creation, Kian, Wes, Joe, Bilbo and all of you heartbreakingly perfect creations: despite the fact you're in growing numbers, I will love you all equally until, one day, one of you find me. I will be waiting, the start of our own story in your hands.
Novels & Imagination,
The Girl in the Moonlight.
*Or "fictional", if you'd rather. Don't worry, they do exist. They exist in our hearts.
You have your Ron Weasley: a solid pal to his buddies and family but beneath it all he's a little hopeless romantic (*cough* and waiting for me to walk into his life). Then there's Dave the Laugh: cheeky and witty and perfectly sweet (oh and *cough* waiting for me to walk on into his life). There's also your Noah Calhoun: a sweetheart that turns into a man with sadness in his heart but yet underneath his beautifully-bearded exterior, he's still waiting for (me) Allie. [This list goes on for me and I've, in my head, committed bigamy a few several times.]
Once the Confessions of Georgia Nicolson series was over, I found myself frantically circling my room, wondering what my life was going to be without Dave the Laugh. I just had to marry him: I will marry him. Not only this, but I spent too much of my lesson time staring into space, imagining him throwing messages at me across the classroom or turning up at my house. At this point in the blog, I hope that I'm not the only person to experience such attachment to fictional* characters.
It was a strange experience when I finished The Hunger Games [no spoilers, I don't think]: I was confused that, once again, one of my favourite book series had ended and I wasn't with the perfect characters: neither Gale or Peeta. Where was my strong, yet sensitive bulk of a man? Equally, where was my sweet, yet damaged cuteness of a baker? I must write a letter of complaint.
Do not - do not - get me started on any Nicholas Sparks novel. Oop, you've got me started. Logan, Alex, Travis etc etc: where are you in my life? Nicholas Sparks is responsible for breaking my heart over and over again. His creations make me lose focus at college, dreaming of everything that we could be: holding hands on the front porch as the sun rises; spending the evenings on a boat. Heck, I will learn to paint. Noah, I could be your Allie.
I have spent the majority of my life falling in (and never out) of love with characters that are with me beyond the pages of all of these perfect novels. What's more, when I can't (when I never can) move on from one character, I'll open the next novel on the pile and fall into their worlds, adding, without fail, another perfect creation to my heart. (Hold the phone, we've got one player over here!) I can't even wish for these wonderful authors to stop breaking my heart with all of the amazinglovelyperfect characters, because I love the thrill of it. So, Ron, Dave, Peeta, Gale, Noah, Logan, Alex, Travis, any Nicholas Sparks creation, Kian, Wes, Joe, Bilbo and all of you heartbreakingly perfect creations: despite the fact you're in growing numbers, I will love you all equally until, one day, one of you find me. I will be waiting, the start of our own story in your hands.
Novels & Imagination,
The Girl in the Moonlight.
*Or "fictional", if you'd rather. Don't worry, they do exist. They exist in our hearts.
Friday, 3 May 2013
A Cynical Romantic Sees Love #1
A while back I wrote a blogpost about how I'm A Hopeless Romantic That Doesn't Believe In Love and today I experienced the reason why I am not a complete cynic when it comes to love.
I was sat on the bus and I couldn't help but stare at one of the loveliest moments I have ever seen in my seventeen pessimistic years. I was as happy as Larry when I was sitting on the bus because what's not great about a sunny Friday that's leading into a three-day-weekend and then...I saw something: love. It's difficult to portray the beauty of what happened, because in typing, the imagery is a little vague, but take my love-filled-word: it was as sweet as sugar. I looked to my right and there was an elderly man and woman sat, the man on a single seat in front and the lovely woman on the single seat behind; the woman's hand was resting on the top of the seat and the lovely man was stroking it, playing with it, their love as young as their hearts. All I wanted was to take a picture, but I gathered that would be overstepping some boundaries, but I don't think that image will ever really leave my mind. I physically couldn't draw my slightly tear-filled eyes away. I mean, how could I? It was a long while before the man stopped comforting his girl, their love as obvious as the air around me and as he drew away, I knew that they were the definition of love in real life. There was something so caring, so touching about his delicate way of letting his girl know that he was there. There was something so innocent about it. I sat there, imagining their story but knowing that it would be a better story than I could ever create. Was he a young fella, lead astray and then put right back on track the first time he saw the young, pretty soul? Or were they family friends since birth; growing up together at family BBQs and trips to the seaside, the young man making the young girl blush until they declared their love? Maybe they met later in their lives, their time apart not wasted, just a lesson to be learnt... I guess I'll never know. Yet, what I do know for sure is this: I may sometimes look at the world through a smoky lens, things clearer in my eyes than they really are. This couple epitomised happiness and love and contradicted everything that clouds my vision.
According to the Urban Dictionary, a cynical romantic loves the idea of love, thinks it's a nice thing but believes that there is logically no such thing as love. In this way, I am definitely a cynical romantic but yet, today, I fell head over heals in love with not the idea, but the real picture in front my eyes. Hear, hear!
Your Hand & Mine,
The Girl in the Moonlight.
I was sat on the bus and I couldn't help but stare at one of the loveliest moments I have ever seen in my seventeen pessimistic years. I was as happy as Larry when I was sitting on the bus because what's not great about a sunny Friday that's leading into a three-day-weekend and then...I saw something: love. It's difficult to portray the beauty of what happened, because in typing, the imagery is a little vague, but take my love-filled-word: it was as sweet as sugar. I looked to my right and there was an elderly man and woman sat, the man on a single seat in front and the lovely woman on the single seat behind; the woman's hand was resting on the top of the seat and the lovely man was stroking it, playing with it, their love as young as their hearts. All I wanted was to take a picture, but I gathered that would be overstepping some boundaries, but I don't think that image will ever really leave my mind. I physically couldn't draw my slightly tear-filled eyes away. I mean, how could I? It was a long while before the man stopped comforting his girl, their love as obvious as the air around me and as he drew away, I knew that they were the definition of love in real life. There was something so caring, so touching about his delicate way of letting his girl know that he was there. There was something so innocent about it. I sat there, imagining their story but knowing that it would be a better story than I could ever create. Was he a young fella, lead astray and then put right back on track the first time he saw the young, pretty soul? Or were they family friends since birth; growing up together at family BBQs and trips to the seaside, the young man making the young girl blush until they declared their love? Maybe they met later in their lives, their time apart not wasted, just a lesson to be learnt... I guess I'll never know. Yet, what I do know for sure is this: I may sometimes look at the world through a smoky lens, things clearer in my eyes than they really are. This couple epitomised happiness and love and contradicted everything that clouds my vision.
Your Hand & Mine,
The Girl in the Moonlight.
Wednesday, 1 May 2013
The Loveliest Things in Life
I thought I'd write a little blogpost about some things that I think are the sweetest and loveliest things of this world.
Rainfall from inside. Something that makes me feel all warm inside is when it is pouring down with rain outside and I am as snug as a bug inside. It makes me feel quite dreamy and (this may sound strange but) I love opening the window and putting my arm out to feel the rain. It makes me feel really happy and at night time it seems even more lovelier when it's dark and I'm under my duvet, listening to the rain.
Unexpected niceness. Niceness is an underrated quality, I believe and when someone I maybe don't talk to all that much surprises me with a lovely comment or just a nice conversation, I feel genuine happiness and as though there is loveliness in the world, even thought I may sometimes forget and this reminds me that there are good people!
New music. Listening to new music from my favourite artists is a wonderful thing: listening to the lyrics they created and learning the melodies they have been perfecting for months. There's not much else that makes me quite that happy and relaxed. I am rather attached to those artists that are my favourites and their music sends me to another world that's better and gentler.
Movie nights. I love having a good movie night all by myself. I'll stay up going from A Cinderella Story to an episode of Star Wars to The Piglet Movie. I'll lie, pillows in a favourable position, teeth brushed, pyjamas on and I'll feel like a five year old for a few too many hours.
Laughing fits. Sometimes things are suddenly funnier than they really are and having a laughing fit - especially with someone else - is particularly refreshing and quite frankly, too hilarious. In that moment, it feels like the laughter is never-ending and in that moment, I want it to be!
We should appreciate the small things in life, the lovely things because they are more precious than we may realise.
Rainfall & Sunshine,
The Girl in the Moonlight.
Rainfall from inside. Something that makes me feel all warm inside is when it is pouring down with rain outside and I am as snug as a bug inside. It makes me feel quite dreamy and (this may sound strange but) I love opening the window and putting my arm out to feel the rain. It makes me feel really happy and at night time it seems even more lovelier when it's dark and I'm under my duvet, listening to the rain.
Unexpected niceness. Niceness is an underrated quality, I believe and when someone I maybe don't talk to all that much surprises me with a lovely comment or just a nice conversation, I feel genuine happiness and as though there is loveliness in the world, even thought I may sometimes forget and this reminds me that there are good people!
New music. Listening to new music from my favourite artists is a wonderful thing: listening to the lyrics they created and learning the melodies they have been perfecting for months. There's not much else that makes me quite that happy and relaxed. I am rather attached to those artists that are my favourites and their music sends me to another world that's better and gentler.
Movie nights. I love having a good movie night all by myself. I'll stay up going from A Cinderella Story to an episode of Star Wars to The Piglet Movie. I'll lie, pillows in a favourable position, teeth brushed, pyjamas on and I'll feel like a five year old for a few too many hours.
Laughing fits. Sometimes things are suddenly funnier than they really are and having a laughing fit - especially with someone else - is particularly refreshing and quite frankly, too hilarious. In that moment, it feels like the laughter is never-ending and in that moment, I want it to be!
We should appreciate the small things in life, the lovely things because they are more precious than we may realise.
Rainfall & Sunshine,
The Girl in the Moonlight.
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