The drunken trajectory.

For the first time in a while, she looked exactly as she felt; a half-forgotten word smouldering in the back of the throat or the hazy warmth of nostalgia. Both prominent and imminently forgettable, she thrived upon juxtapositions.
The mirror tripped out of focus.. knees buckled on the tiled parapet.. the fourth drink walking the tightrope between drunk and mindless.

"Alcohol is an anti-septic in more forms than one", eyes shut, deep breaths, chanting her mantra as she tried to work out which way was up.

There was an awareness of movement, blurred figures shifting as though they were underwater, the pull of a hand and she tripped, she was Bambi on ice and as she floated out of reality, she felt that warmth come flooding back the one she hadn't realised she lacked until it embraced her once more, her bones aching with its presence and everything felt so charged with potential.

She then narrowly missed throwing up all over her heels.

etched upon your face

she was a windy wednesday morning with the

rain dripping from dusted eyelashes, sighing at

the creak of trains pulling away in all

their melancholy. 

why aren't they allowed to stay anywhere for long

dawn broke and there was no reason

to stop, a solitary figure stretched into her horizons, 

maybe paradise exists amongst

the illuminated crisp packets and cigarette buts

holy in their second-rate glory

An open letter to my friend Instagram

I feel I'm one of many teenagers who desperately need to prioritize, I feel as though people within my age group find this particularly hard because we're at that stage where it feels we're suddenly being pushed out of the nest and dog tagged with things called "responsibilities". 

It's glaringly obvious to me that social media needs to be forced down my list of priorities, I get a shaky, seasick kinda feeling when I think about the hours of my life I've wasted watching cats doing stupid stuff and reading "10 things every Londoner understands" and the like, despite the fact that I do not nor have ever lived in London. 

The most ridiculous form of social media that I admit to using - in my opinion - is definitely Instagram. Don't get me wrong, conceptually it's pretty flawless, a website intended for sharing pictures you have taken with you iPhone, who doesn't want to marvel at the fact that a picture as beautiful as that can be captured without photoshop or fancy lenses on DSLR cameras? It's the way in which this concept has been altered that grinds my gears, it has become a form of social media when I don't think that was ever the intention, the intention being - in my eyes - a mobile form of things like Flickr, making professional standard photography and photo sharing accessible to those who don't have all the gimmicks. 

Instagram can be pretty detrimental in my eyes, like all social media, it has become a form of one upmanship: who can "out-selfie" their friends? Whose weekend looked the most exciting behind that smokescreen of filters and clever angles? It's become a competition, as if the number of likes you get determines your worth as a human being. Like you aren't worth so much more than that, like your charm, passion and inner-strength don't mean more than a bunch of numbers on a picture of your cat. Like the way the sunlight hits your face on a morning and the chime of your laughter isn't far more beautiful than any "no make-up selfie". 

Of course, I'm not going to pretend I don't use it, social media is renowned for being addictive and enticing. Not to mention the fact that the prevailing paradox of our society (this term + that context = me cringing) is that not to conform is also to conform. But the reshuffle within my ministerial cabinet of priorities has proved time and again that I don't NEED Instagram, why do I need to seek validation from strangers through a screen? Why do I need validation at all?

Instagram, it's been great, but it's time we cooled things off. I'm narcissistic and psychopathic enough without you.