The tears mellow our ragged ebbs and we swallow.
A small grin erupts, unexpectedly, shining brilliant across my cheeks. I quickly arrange a perfectly composed mask of apathy. Elated; I’ve won. I've obviously lured the first weak soldier out of your protective exterior: must be self-loathing, He's obviously the weakest. Always so willing to collapse. 
My own buries deeper, a personal award I'm granted. He always dragged me down anyways. This is why I fight the war.

However, I am still not satisfied or happy although my intentions from the start were clear. I prepared myself for an absence of positive emotions. She distracts me from the enemy. Why isn't my opponent collapsed? Does she not understand I've won? She's wrong! I resist the urge to shake her into accepting the war guilt. 

Obviously I have not won. My spirits fall immediately. My buried grin is now replaced with a very visible grimace.

I re-evaluate, I hate doing that. The hot, burning taste of metal leaves my mouth and in its place sits remorse.
 ''What's wrong soldier?''
''I don't know what I'm fighting for.''
''Well find out soon, the enemy is closing in!''
I shake my head. No, of course I know why I'm still here, fighting in the war. The anchor I was holding onto, it's still there. Assurance; as strong as my enemy is weak. 

Even then, I feel some of my resolve dissipate and dissolve. 

''What now soldier?''
''I think I'm fighting for the wrong cause!''
''No, the enemy is fighting for the wrong cause!''
''Maybe I'm the enemy!''

I fall.
 
 
My planning was incandescent; no one had any space to shoot through it! The solid tendrils of fibers held each flaw close together, so that it not longer existed as an individual. I realise now; a poor disguise of a failed plan. Mere ignorance is what it was. Once we're consumed with the rage all compassion leaves us. We begin to dive into our opponents. Then memorise every weakness. The soldier that fights for self-loathing. The soldier that fights for its flaws.They are the weakest and always bring a side down. They are unable to defend themselves and that's why I wanted to hurt them. 

The salt water only proved a temporary victor, before I fell.
 

What Different Colors Mean to Me

I know, that this sounds pretty strange, if not dull but it is actually something that I think about a lot. Colors have so many shades to them, they are so complex yet they can be presented so simply and build together to form things even more complex. 

1. Orange:

There was a time when I felt that there was no hope. I was literally only twelve years old, but I had an anxiety disorder which made me extremely sensitive and paranoid. I really can't explain it now, so I'll try keep it as relevant as possible. Imagine feeling the weight of all suffering on your shoulders, feeling guilty for any bad thing that someone is faced with. Not just light guilt, but the intense sense of destruction. Then you hate yourself and feel like you can't start living again until you find forgiveness. I struggled deciding each time how I would gain forgiveness. I found it in the end, from my family. My dad. Now, that's all fine, the fact that I got this -frequently-only means that I had a conscience right? I'll repent. Forgive. Move on. Except I couldn't because there was nothing to forgive. I understand that now as really my 'crimes' were as petty as telling my mum I had finished my homework when I hadn't. Or, complaining about someone to a friend. But at the time it felt like my safe little world where my parents loved me and I was a good person would come crashing down on me, and even that wasn't punishment enough. I'll give you an example. I used to complain about my mum to my friends. Casual stuff, normal stuff, forgivable stuff. ''Oh my god, she yells at me for no reason! It's so unfair!' One day I stopped myself in my tracks and felt a pang of guilt which was unusual but not totally surprising. But I was afraid the cycle would start again.I came home and felt the pang again. And again. By night time I was crying in my room. What if this meant that everyone thought my mum abused me. What if social services took me away. What if she was punished. I felt like I had literally ruined her life just over a small, petty problem. Once the seed of doubt was planted in my mind it grew until it consumed me. I kept it in for days. Every time I would laugh, or smile or show the tiniest bit of happiness over trivial matters, like a joke my friend told I'd stop and remind myself everything isn't okay. Usually every time I had a worry, I was encouraged to talk it out with my dad. I'd wait for him to laugh, tell me it didn't matter and that he could forgive me and I'd immediately feel okay. But then a new one would come and it was always days, even weeks before I could work up the courage to tell him. Finally I told him and he simply laughed and hugged me. I can't really remember what he said but it was consolation, telling me to stop but it didn't matter. Yes. Whilst I'd sit around in my room thinking about this, worrying about it I'd smell the scent of my body butter. It was flavored orange, and my best friend had given it to me in a mini kit for my birthday. Of course I have the full set now, I don't buy anything but that line for my body. It had such a tangible scent as it was extremely strong. I'd rub it on me and smell only that. I can't really see the connection but I knew I started using it during the time period of my worst anxieties.I'd also light a vanilla candle as I huddled under the duvet literally picking the current 'worry' to pieces until I found a light. Hope that I didn't cause destruction and I'd hold onto that until I could relieve it and relent my troubles to my dad. Cheesy as this might sound, every time i apply it I feel so happy you can't understand. Euphoria. I don't have the candle anymore, which is a shame but it wasn't the most obtrusive scent out of the time so it doesn't matter. The one i always associate with oranges triggers extreme nostalgia and I feel elation. My brain doesn't cycle anymore. This doesn't mean I've become a good person, but at least I can handle flaws and humanly mistakes.

''The unexamined life is not worth living''- Socrates. 


 Socrates gave us the quote and idea of ''The unexamined life is not worth living'' in his trial for heresy. The man wanted his philosphical students to think for themselves and not just believe what was accepted at the time.
In a sense, we can relate this to mordern day ideologies. As a teenager in the prime of my discovery with all the generic questions floating around of 'who am i?' 'what am striving for?' there's some insight in taking a moment to ponder. It's extremely important to know yourself and not get stuck in the rutt  of defining yourself  by a  routine, a job, a problem. No, you aren't just a school girl, a lawyer, a victim of depression. Who.are.you.
It seems as teenagers we can get easily stuck in a funk of caring about things that do not matter.
Take control of your life and know where you are going. This does not neccassariily mean in terms of career, although you can link your destination and passions towards this.

Religion: hoax or reality?


Disclaimer: Before I start, I'd like to make it clear that I am in no way condemning religion in any shape or form, or doubting anyone's opinion to believe in any form of doctrine. I am purely stating my own opinions and thoughts but in no way am i enforcing them to be the truth. I also find religion and spirituality extremely fascinating, but do not conform to it. If you are sensitive to content criticising religion, please do not read.
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So let's begin.
Being someone that has had religion thrust upon them from a young age, I know what it feels like to be told you believe in something without a second thought, or any doubt. I went along with the idea of conforming to a religion for a long period of time, but up until three years ago I realised that to me, religion isn't defined by god or spirituality; it's defined by events, family and food. So is that really what religion should be about? I did some research, asked around and even ended up talking to a priest in my perplexity and found out the answer: no. From within, I should believe in the higher power, believe in the ideologies and it should become a part of me. I should not re-construct myself to become a part of it.


To a certain extent, I think that religion is something society needs. Hope; belief that the human population is not completely alone, and that there is a higher power looking out for you. These can all be pretty reassuring things, and studies show that piety is a tactic in which depression is combated. But does spirituality and religion come at a price? Are they used by society to threaten a generation? I have in my lifetime(which isn't very long to judge), heard in many languages and forms people essentially being told that they are ''going to hell'' for breaking the rules of a religion. Haven't we pushed past the stages of propaganda and  brain-washing in our societies by now? We as humans have developed in all mental areas-so why are we still stuck screaming at little children that God will punish them?

As an example, lying is condemned in many religions and almost puts pressure on people-but are there any times when it is justified and needed to tell a fib? For example, although this may be a far fetched example, the case of Anne Frank, and the lie which saved her family can be considered. Without the lie, she would of been found out sooner.

So is it really okay to force views on a generation, instead of giving them the freedom of opinion?

However the other side to the argument is equally as discreditable. Rules and pressure are perhaps, needed  to maintain a structured, and panic free soceity just like laws are constitutive. Generally lying isn't okay and can lead to a generation going hay-wired.

There is much more than can be said about this but this is a just a brief glimpse into the discussion, sorry if it offends, and doesn't seem creditable to you: i have may not have enough knowledge to judge appropriately.

Thank you for reading, Natasha.

Keith (2008)- a review

So I guess I'm the type of person that has to turn everything into something personally touching. I'll play the soundtrack for any tear-fest over and over forcing myself to develop nostalgic feelings and then I'll cry over my iPod for a month or so and then move on.
So maybe my emotions are too highly strung to see this film from a clear peripheral but-after a year upon the first time I watched this- I can safely say I absolutely adore the theme, the music and the acting in 'Keith 2008' directed by Todd Kessler and written by; David Zabel,Tod Kessler (screenplay) and Ron Carlson’s (story).

The movie centres around 17 year old ''Natalie''(Elisabeth Harnois) a character who we grow to love, and approve of due to her right approach to well...everything! Academically focused, she knows what she wants (Duke with a tennis scholarship) and knows how to get it, is a social buff and has a gently beautiful taste centered to her. So when we see her excelling in practically all fields of a young adult we know that this lady has bright plans ahead of her-as her parents emphasis upon her. But what no one factored into the equation is a young Jesse McCartney almost ''positioning'' himself in her life and twisting her streamline success into an array of lust filled confusion. She has everything to lose. Before he starts with her, he has already lost the most important thing to him and so he is the worst thing to ever happen to her.

The film has an enthralling sequence of events to it that seemed to be defined to me by the moments when Natalie and Keith ride in the truck, which ultimately can be represented in the timeline of their relationship development.

Then there are all the other moments, which have no relevance to my viewing pleasure (partially an over-reaction as I maybe fell a little too hard with Keith Zettrestrom) when Natalie is with the other one. Rafael (Ignacio Serricchio).

The slow, dreary pattern of the film and the almost drab scenery all serve as a way of emphasis for the characters development with each-other. Not to be clashed or over-ruled. It all adds to the brilliance of the film and completely involves the audience in the relationship. Shall I be embarrassingly cheesy and give then a name? Katalie. Neith. I prefer Neith.

The completely shocking and teary ending is something that will stay with me for a long time and that has changed my perception to life in a sense. You never know what you have until it's gone. If you're a crier, you'll definitely need some tissues for this number.

Overall I highly recommend the movie(taken off screen; only available by DVD) for its emotional depth with humorous undertones woven into the complex plot that serve as perfect entertainment.

Thankyou for reading-Natasha.

Disclaimer: All the following pictures are not mine and have been taken from google images.


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Hope this helped-any constructive feedback would be greatly appreciated(contact at: natasha0742@hotmail.com

Hello! 

This is an amateur blog discussing literature,plays,movies anything of general interest to me really.

I hope you enjoy and to contact me email natasha0742@hotmail.com