I haven’t written a word in days. I’m incapable of staring at a screen for longer than an hour. I used to think it was my eyes, I am beginning to question that. It’s been years since my laser eye surgery. It can’t possibly be that my eyes are still sensitive, can it?
All I know is, yesterday I couldn’t even move out of bed. I had to lie with an eye-mask over my face like I was Joan Crawford, not Ashling Cranford, and attempt as little movement as humanly possible for fear of vomiting everywhere. Migraines were never an issue for me before but now they are becoming more and more common.
I’ve had tests. So there’s nothing wrong that the doctors can see, aside from my old ailment of inflammation of my eyelids. But I really thought that would have healed over time.
Maybe I’m reading too much? I mean, college period was full on reading and in my new-found sense of freedom and ability to read for pleasure I read seven books in June, just because I could and they didn’t have the words “holocaust”, “golem” or “history” in them.
Perhaps less reading. Less writing on a device that isn’t a notebook. And instead, more music.
People take their eye-sight for granted. It is so very important. I may suffer a lot for 20/20 vision, but I often think how blind I would be without having had the surgery. I’m so very thankful that I did.
There was a time when this site was my life. Not the be-all and end-all of my life, but a quiet sphere of it where I came to contemplate, complain and generally pour forth all the crap that whirled its way around the empty shell that is my skull.
I never got many views, but that was never the point. I never wanted views. Views came with opinions. Opinions are good. But difference of them can be exhausting. Particularly now. I’ve noticed over the past few years a change has taken place in social media. A hate filled change. More vocal and vitriol, everybody seems to shove their opinions in your virtual face and if you disagree, there is no disagreement. It’s just out and out attack.
Or you get the other type of opinion, the wrong opinion. It’s the one that is most exhausting. It is the one in which something is blindly shared, you, knowing slightly a bit more on the topic, address the misinformation with the aim of correcting misleading information in the kindest way possible. It is ignored. Few days/weeks/months later the same person continues to peddle the misleading drivel. You correct it again. You are blocked. Or you are deemed a know-it-all (if it weren’t for Hermione Granger you would wear that insult with shame.) Or worse, you are called a “p**i-lover” by someone you love. (That badge you know to wear with pride. You’re not ashamed you are called that, you’re embarrassed it is being said my someone who is in your heart.)
The same drivel is said again. You become exhausted. There is only so many times you can waste your breath, or in this case, your fingertips, trying to convince someone that their “opinion” (opinion in quotations because it is not opinion, it is bigotry dressed up as Free Speech and pseudo-fact) is wrong. Blatantly wrong.
We’ve become a society of vocal brick-walls.
Not yet anyway. I thought I would be, what with that aul ‘world set to end. How do I know? Because the Mayans – who know so much about this prediction marlarky that they saw the Spanish coming…oh wait, no they didn’t – told us through the ending of their calendar,’ thing.
I’m still slightly bitter we’re still here. I really was looking forward to oblivion. (Ashling 0 – World 1) Oh well, onwards and upwards, as they say.
I’ve been, and will probably remain inactive around here. I achieved my little dream of returning to college to study English Literature. (Ashling 1 – World 0) It’s harder than expected. It’s not at all what I expected, but I’m not complaining. I love being in a learning environment again. (Plus the holidays aren’t too shabby either.) So most of my time and energy is being directed into studies (That is as boring as it sounds!) and wiling away hour after hour on the Internet is a thing of my past *gentle sniff*
2012 was a productive one for me. And probably the best year I’ve had in a long time. They say life begins at 30 (it depends on who you ask to say that though,) so hopefully 2013 keeps up the good work and things continue to move forward for me. I’ve been stagnant enough in the past, it’s time to wipe the moss off and roll…although on second thoughts, I love the idea of being a tree stump, covered in moss, somewhere in the deep heart of a forest. *ponders*
Some kids aspired to be trees. I was just fine with being the root.
I missed my calling! (Ashling 0 – World/Nature 1)
Overall score: Ashling 1 – World/Nature 2
Alright World, you won that round. But the battle isn’t over *shakes fist angrily*
*Rereads what she just wrote* I really need to get out and socialise more. *le sigh*
Ash has been bold. Yes she has. And no, it isn’t because she’s talking about herself in the third person again, it’s because she is supposed to be doing apps for university and edits for something else. She’s doing half that. I’m still working out my wording for my apps so Word is being used for that. So that’s doing. It’s the edits that aren’t being done. I was supposed to have them done and all by now. Oopsies.
See what happened there was this: I promised myself I’ll get them done and then treat myself by reading a book. My book of choice fell through – Trotsky by Robert Service turned out to be so full of bullshit, the “professional author” got Trotsky’s death date wrong. Fail of epic proportions, I hear no one but myself say. Very true. (thanks for the heads up, Syd) – so I settled on something a little different. Namely The Murder of Roger Ackroyd by Ms Agatha Christie, which will quickly be followed by the first in the Hunger Games series. It’s been on my bookshelf for ages now, I thought it about time I see what the hype is all about.
But see, that’s where Ash has been naughty again. I finished Roger Ackroyd yesterday – sheer brilliant. I had some time to kill and thought ‘I’ll get two/three chapters read’, but I got so hooked I finished the whole thing. So now my edits are left because I’m reading again.
MUST NOT BEGIN HUNGRY GAMES. MUST DO EDITS AND FINISH APPS.
I’ve done it. I’ve actually done it. I deactivated my Twitter account. I have been debating it for months now. I found myself waking up each morning and checking my emails and twitter, it was causing hell with my eyes.
But now for the past few weeks I’ve done nothing but be negative and angry on it. Normally that shit is held for a diary, but with twitter, it was up there for everyone to see the crazy. Which isn’t good.
Today I decided to bit the bullet (albeit gently because my tooth is killing me, I can’t even eat bread without it paining me. I fear it needs a root canal. Something I can’t afford so horrible pain shall be my foe for the next few weeks.) and deactivate.
It’s done now. I kinda miss it, slightly but mainly because I loved my username and following Mark Gatiss, but I’m more happy it’s gone.
Jeez, I didn’t realise it’s been so long since I last posted in here. My eyes are keeping me away from online sadly and I’m not nearly on as I used to be. That added to the fact that my laptop is broken and chooses when and when not to work. Thankfully it’s deciding to work for me right now.
I shouldn’t even be here now. Should be writing. Should be packing. Florida is this weekend. So thrilled. Can’t wait. I need this. I really need this.
My health is slightly fucked as of late. The result of which is I missed last Friday’s Chili Pepper gig. Totally gutted. But there just wasn’t a hope in me making it in. *major sad face*
I would like to say I’ve been keeping busy lately, but I haven’t, not really. Attempting to write. Listening to music. Reading books. Watching films. I see from my previous post that X-men: First Class and Thor have been leading the scoreboard for my favourite movie of the year so far. They’ve both been demoted.
The moment I planked my ass in the cinema seat and Midnight in Paris began I fell in love.
Seriously, seriously, seriously a beautiful, warm, engaging, fabulous little gem of a movie.
If I didn’t want to be a Julian Carax-esque style writer in the 1920’s Paris before I definately want to be now.
On another note: I hate this layout. I’m going to change it when I get back from Florida.
I’m putting this here because it then has less chance of being seen by anyone I know. Not that anyone I know pays attention anywhere else. I’m not exactly Ms. Popularity.
I’m in a funk. A really, really bad one. The urge to take a blade to my face and arms is back. What fun? *sarcasm* I’ve no interest in anything and find it hard to get out of bed in the mornings. And as much as I hate this and want to pull myself out of it, I don’t want to either. Because…I don’t know. It’s fucked up.
But it’s not like I’m not trying. I’m out, doing things. Trying to shake this but nothing is helping and it’s all just leaving me feeling more empty. Each thing I do I feel grand while doing it, but then I’ve to go home. It all ends up the same way again. The feelings creep back in.
I wear the face of being fine. It’s when I’m alone that it’s all still there and hounding me and even waking me up at night.
P.S. I’ve a lump on the side of my head below my earlobe, I’m hoping its a tumour.