The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins

It took me an unusual period of time to read this, but I'm kind of glad I stretched it out a little, even though I hadn't done so intentionally. This is the kind of thing that deserves to be savored, not rushed. I'd never really intended to read this until I started my 50 book challenge and several people suggested the trilogy. Only after that did I hear that they would soon be releasing the film adaptation, and of course there was the huge online flare of anticipation, and I really got the impression that this was a big deal. Unfortunately,due to my current financial situation, I couldn't just go out and buy these (although needless to say, as soon as I have the ability, I will be heading out to buy these, whether that's in two weeks or fifty), because at £8 per book, they're not really on the cheap end of the scale, despite the sales brought on by the hoe over the movie. Fortunately, I have amazing friends who are generous enough to lend me them. Let it be known, I owe a favour, and intend to owe two more in the near future.

This is a very powerful book. It won't be an eternal favourite of mine, but I can see myself reading it again in the future. The ending was a little disappointing, as I really don't like the tone of it, but it's bearable because the rest of the book more than made up for it.

The idea of the Hunger Games really sickens me. "Kill or be killed." That's the general idea behind it. The people who take part are mere children, and the whole thing is televised live to thousands of people who on the most part, see no error in this, and welcome it even. If this kind of thing actually happened, it would probably send the whole world into a panic. But really, this kind of thing does happen. It's not televised, I'm happy to say, but people are often put in the situation of killing in order to survive. It's animalistic and disgusting, but it happens. Then combine that with Big Brother, a TV show where contestants/housemates are locked into a confined space which is constantly monitored, and they have to vote eachoter out. I can see a lot of similarities here, and I don't like it. Don't misinterpret me here, I'm not trying to point out similarities just to say that they're similar, and I'm not having a go at Big Brother here, either. At least not a big one. What I'm saying is that both of these things are a loss of human rights, and people find entertainment in this? Personally I really don't see the attraction. Then add to that the factor of murdering each other. You see what I'm getting at? It's a damn good book because as we subconsciously realise these things as they are hinted at, we reach a mutual hatred of the Games with Katniss Evergreen, forming a bond with the narrating main character. It's genius really, and I have to credit the author to that.

I'd give this a rating of 9/10. It's remarkably good, and once I got into it I really couldn't put it down, but the ending was disappointing, and all the way through we have this emotional link to Gale, but it goes nowhere. I get the feeling that it leads somewhere in the sequel, but I still don't particularly like it, and I don't want it spoiling if you think you can give an explanation. NO SPOILERS FOR ME, THANKS!!

Just a Warning.

I can't see myself being terribly cheerful tomorrow.

How I Became Who I Am (the most recent stage)

Watch "Dear Future Charlie" on YouTube

As you're probably well aware, a huge part of what makes me who I am today is Nerfighteria, and watching old Charlieissocoollike videos this evening, I came across the above video. I'd seen it numerous times before, but one view stands out in my mind, because that view led me to become a Nerfighter.

Charlie's video features John Green, one of the two greatest minds behind Nerfighteria which started out as the Brotherhood 2.0 thing. I'm still obsessing over the fact that when this video first came out I was like "oh okay, it's a guy called John Green, no big deal," but then I watched it again some months later and thought "hmm, maybe he's interesting," and OH MY, HE CHANGED MY LIFE. One year after I watched this video for probably the second or third time, I can't imagine a world without John and Hank Green. They inspire me with every video, they influence the way I see the world and the way I talk and dress and communicate with people. They pull me out from emotional holes and convince me daily that learning is fun and I should do more of it. They let me know that it is okay to be the person who I really want to be. If I hadn't discovered Nerdfighters who gave me that confidence then I probably wouldn't even be wearing the watch I'm wearing today. I wouldn't have started my 50 book challenge and I certainly wouldn't have my awesome big board of stuff, which consists primarily of Nerdfighter representatives. I probably wouldn't even call myself a nerd. This is who I am, and the strength of their influence on me has vastly improved my life.

So you know what? Don't Forget To Be Awesome, because I don't think I ever will forget.

Indecisive

I can't think what to blog about, so this'll do...

Oh, Hello

I can't be bothered to be interesting today.

Sorry.

You.

I hate you.
I hate the way your hair falls.
I hate the way you smile.
I hate how when you talk to me,
I'm happy for a while.
I hate how when you compliment me
You seem to mean what you say,
And my god this frustrates me
In far too many ways.
If frustrates me because you do mean it.
It frustrates me because you're there when I fall.
It frustrates me becuase we'd be great together.
If frustrates me because I don't hate you at all.


If all else perished and you remained, I should still continue to be. If all else remained and you were anihilated, the universe would turn to an almighty stranger. And so you shall never know how I love you, and that not because you're handsome but because you're more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, yours and mine are the same. You are always, always in my mind. Not as a pleasure any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being. And yet we are not destined to be together. We'll be friends, I'm well aware, for a very long time to come, but I'm afraid my friend, that that is all we may ever be.

Hi.

I missed a post yesterday. I apologise. Feel free to punish me. I'm happy right now. I don't care.

Speaking

I'm not looking forward to my speaking exam at all. A writing exam I could do quite easily, but not speaking. I don't know what's the matter with me, but on the subject of French exams, I just can't do speaking exams. It's not that I don't want to - I want nothing more right now than to actually do a speaking exam and for it to go well. Unfortunately that is never going to happen. I can learn the material with relative ease, and I could write it with minimal stress. But sit me down with a voice recorder in front of me and tell me to speak and you won't get a word out of me. I'll try my hardest because this isn't stubborness, and it's not shyness. It's just that when I sit in that room, any room or any situation, I physically can't. Tell me to write it instead and I'll have no problem, and I reckon that I could get a pretty decent grade from that. I just can't speak it. I can do it minimally in practice, although it still isn't easy, but when I have to do it right, my throat goes dry, my head feels heavy and my mind goes blank.
I've been told to do speaking because it's the largest area I could improve in, and that's all very well and good, but it's not that simple. I know that I can't do speakings - I've tried numerous times and I just seem to be getting worse at it. Say that I've been getting E's on my speaking and C's on my writing. Sure, logically I have the potential to improve my grade massively, but I'm not going to. I've tried the positive attitude and stuff, but let's face facts, when it comes to speaking, I stink. It's my kryptonite. Exams in general I'm fine with. I hardly ever get stage fright. I'm awesome. But speaking exams take away my cool. Putting me in for another speaking is like telling Superman to go and bathe in kryptonite. He'd be much better off in water, just as I'd be much better off doing writing.
Say that I do speaking and don't improve my grade at all, which is the most likely outcome without a doubt. My overall grade doesn't change. But then say that I do writing instead. I'm more comfortable here. I can do this. I improve my grade by a few marks. It's not much but it's a lot more of an improvement than I'd get if I did the speaking exam.
Furthermore, I can barely speak English at the minute, nevermind French.
I give up. Goodnight.

"David?"

 I'm going to celebrate two people called David today, and one called John.

First, David Tennant, and part one of John Barrowman. The above video makes me laugh so much, and I keep watching it and watching it over and over... It makes me so happy.

Part 2! John Barrowman is NOT 50 like it was previously suggested, he is 45 and looking good, as I think you'll agree.

 Part 3, happy birthday to David Thewlis, who I idolise as an actor and a person. There's not reallya lot more I can say, really... Happy 49th, David!

Moustache Addiction

I don't know why I like them, I just do. They're cool, I know that much... and I suit the adhesive ones to the point where people forget I don't actually have one. I love wearing them, I don't know what it is about it but when I'm wearing one, I just feel so good, and I love that feeling so much that I would go out of my way to wear one because I just feel so awesome when I do.

It's not just that, either. I know a good moustache when I see one, and some guys are massively improved by a little facial hair. Obviously it makes a lot of guys look stupid, and I have to actually like the guy before I can allow myself to like the facial hair, but if they can pull it off, me gusta.

Example 1:  Brain Holden is a very, very attractive man in his natural state. He's good looking, charismatic, funny, and a brilliant actor. But then slap a moustache on him and...

It may not work for you, but it damn-well works for me. But wait...



Ignoring the text (which is a quote from the show), you stick him in a waistcoat, and tadaaa! I'm happy. May I point out that he's raising one eyebrow here, too?


Example 2: The young Paul Simon. Pictured below (left) with the other half of his double act, Art Garfunkel (right), who we'll discuss in a minute.

Note how young and fresh-faced he is. He appears sweet and innocent yet with an edge to his personality which a lot of people find very attractive. But during his days with a moustache and a little bit of a beard...

I have mixed opinions on this. On the one hand, I like. But on the other hand... It wasn't always so good.



This was not a good look for him. At all. Let's move on.

Example 3: Art Garfunkel. I can't deny that I really rather like the younger Garfunkel, at least up to the mid 80's. I can't describe him with any justice and I'll only embarrass myself by trying so I'll let the pictures do the talking.

I'd never seen the above image until I searched for a decent picture just now and let me tell you, I like it a lot. NERD GLASSES!!! This makes me so happy I can't even tell you. Anyway, you see, a perfectly lovely image. But what I'm about to show you may disturb you. I can only find one example of the monstrosity on the internet, and I do not intend to go looking for it again. Brace yourself.

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Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce the Supertash. Bear in mind that it is also combined with an orange turtle-neck jumper. I wouldn't normally have a problem with this but I have to say, blonde moustaches should not exist. Light brown I'll accept. But blonde? No. just no, and certainly not on the wonderful Art. But don't worry, he's still awesome to me for even trying that look, and being brave enough to go on telly like that. Gotta love him.

Gotta Blog...

I love my friends. And I'll always do my best to talk them around to things when they need cheering up. But giving love advice to the guy I love seems a little strange to me...

This Isn't Good.

I would like to point out immediately that unlike some of my recent posts, I am currently calm. However, this is not necessarily a good thing.

I have a lot to do in the next week.

I have to learn my French paragraph to write on Wednesday.
I have to finish reading Wuthering Heights in the hope that I'll fully understand the context of the extract I'm reading for the showcase.
I have to learn the extract I'm reading for the showcase, word for word.
I have to put emotions into the extract and practice it.
I have to finish my Media and DT coursework before Easter break or I'll get no grade at all.
I have to stay on top of all school work and homework.
I have to stay calm and not freak out immediately.

I've lulled myself into a false sense of security, when I actually should be freaking out. However I enjoy the calm ne more than the freaked out horrified and stressed me, so I'm just taking this at my own pace.

Piss Off.

I do not enjoy being controlled. It is no secret that I have certain habits, tendencies and preferences, and should anyone disrupt or get in the way of those, I'm not likely to be happy about that.
These things come in many different variations. For example, every night, I listen to music directly before I go to sleep. It's usually just one or two songs to relax me before I sleep, and I then leave my headphones plugged into my phone so I don't have to mess around with taking them out, wrapping them up and turning over again and again to get comfy. When my parents get fucking finicky about me not going on the internet and confiscate my headphones, it throws me off, and I don't like this at all. I'm trying to diffuse my anger by blogging about it but the tension in my chest is building and it's getting harder to restrain it. At some point in the very near future I'm going to want to break something unless I get my relaxing music.
Argh fuck off life.

Posted this morning because my internet is pure shit.

This.

You don't belong.
You've got to work.
Work harder.
You don't fit in.
You're inadequate.
They don't care.
You need to do more.
Pain isn't important. If they can't feel it, it doesn't matter.
You're going to fail.
You can't do it.
You're a failure.
You're no good.
You're just embarassing the world.
You can't do anything.
Nobody cares.
Nobody wants you.
You're worthless.


They're not necessarily thoughts that you're thinking consciously, but they're all there somewhere. All of these thoughts are closing in on you, pressing down into your mind, forcing you down to a tiny ball on the mud of the Earth. You feel like you're about two inches tall, and the pain of the rejection and insignificance is unbearable. You want to die, but you're not even strong enough to make it happen. You're too much of a coward to ask someone else to. You think you're selfish. You realise it's not death you want, it's just a release from the world you live in, the world that torments you, is too much for you every day. You can't find any sort of release yourself, so you do the next best thing. You curl up on your bed, put some calming music through your headphones and cry, and pray that nobody will find you.


The headphones are playing an old album. It's familiar, like a childhood home. The lyrics speak meaning, but you only hear the harmonic melodies and the beautiful instrumental. It's calming. It allows you to breathe a little clearer, although the weight on your chest still persists. You're calmer, but still not back to normal. It's just a beautiful mendacity.


The world of the internet brings you back to your senses, and you begin to talk to people. People who have no idea what's just been going through your mind. There's a huge difference between the expressions you type and the expression on your face. They can't pick up on that though. You distract yourself with mindless banter. It's better than your natural affliction of thoughts. As you talk, you write. You write fiction at first, trying to escape into the world of someone else's life, but through this medium you can't express what you truly want to. You switch to a blog. This is better. Here you can express everything, so long as your vocabulary allows it. You write everything. You write not to get a message across to others, but to get it across to yourself. This is your way to get things off your chest, and you can feel it getting lighter inside you. You can feel the end of this passage, but you know it'll all happen again sooner or later.


You think over what you've just written, but never read back, in fear of relivig it too vividly. The pain is still lingering, ever-present on the tassles of your mind. What you think you've written sounds good. It's easy to reflect upon. You might have to come back and re-read this someday. But not now. The music is still playing, still calming. It's a chain that stops you from floating off into space. It's keeping you in check.
You want to sleep now. You're done with writing. So you stop.


It's peaceful.

It's Not Good

I can feel myself getting more and more stressed. My mind is getting cloudy and overpopulated, and it's having a very negative effect on me. My usual stress relief strategies aren't working. My never-fail song to make me smile failed today. I couldn't get through the first verse of The Sound of Silence before I gave up, and my usual relaxing shower made me frustrated in ways that I have no idea how. I don't have a good book to focus on, I'm under a lot of pressure from school to memorize a lot of information, and I'm doing so much for the next theatre showcase that I'm really starting to feel the strain.
I'm not complaining on the showcase front. I volunteered to do all of it, and I will do it all. I've got most of the stuff memorized, and I was pretty confident up until the last session. I've been given an extract from Wuthering Heights to perform, and I'm so glad I got it because really I wanted it when he offered other the first time to someone else. Now it's mine and I can't wait. It's quite long so memorizing it word for word might prove a little tricky, but I'm sure my determination will get me through. I still need to polish off The Tenancy of Skin, but I know how I'm gonna do that now, and there's a few points on the Young Love scripts that aren't perfect yet, but I know they'll be simple enough. Then I said I'd do a sonnet, which to be honest worries me a little, but if I have too much trouble with it I can always just not do it.
I can't believe we get to do the Sound of Silence. I can't explain how excited I am. Of course I'm a little nervous, but I'd be worried if I wasn't, for nerves shows how much you care about something, and I damn well need to get this right.
I'm really feeling theatres though. I know it'll all turn out fine, so this is getting ridiculous. I need to sleep, because I'm pretty sure insomnia wouldn't help me at all right now. Night.

THERE ARE YOUNG MEN AND WOMEN UP AND DOWN THE LAND WHO HAPPILY (OR UNHAPPILY) TELL ANYONE WHO WILL LISTEN THAT THEY DON’T HAVE AN ACADEMIC TURN OF MIND, OR THAT THEY AREN’T LUCKY ENOUGH TO HAVE BEEN BLESSED WITH A GOOD MEMORY, AND YET CAN RECITE HUNDREDS OF POP LYRICS AND REEL OFF ANY AMOUNT OF INFORMATION ABOUT FOOTBALLERS. WHY? BECAUSE THEY ARE INTERESTED IN THOSE THINGS. THEY ARE CURIOUS. IF YOU ARE HUNGRY FOR FOOD, YOU ARE PREPARED TO HUNT HIGH AND LOW FOR IT. IF YOU ARE HUNGRY FOR INFORMATION IT IS THE SAME. INFORMATION IS ALL AROUND US, NOW MORE THAN EVER BEFORE IN HUMAN HISTORY. YOU BARELY HAVE TO STIR OR INCOMMODE YOURSELF TO FIND THINGS OUT. THE ONLY REASON PEOPLE DO NOT KNOW MUCH IS BECAUSE THEY DO NOT CARE TO KNOW. THEY ARE INCURIOUS. INCURIOSITY IS THE ODDEST AND MOST FOOLISH FAILING THERE IS.

~ The Fry Chronicles

Oh I'l expand on this. Maybe not today, but some day.

I'm Boring, But It's Who I Am.

I accept it. I'm boring. I'm not entirely happy about it if I'm honest, but what choice do I have? I'm boring, this blog is boring, I'm boring to talk to, I'm just generally not that great at anything in particular. But It's who I am. I can't change it, it'd be pointless to even try. The best I can't hope for now is some guy who likes boring girls.

I Know...

I was going to post a meaningful post tonight and I have one half written but then I got distracted, I wrote half a decent post, and now I'm too tired and I don't have time to finish it. This is it for tonight.

Au Revoir.

Reasonably bad day for speech and awkwardness, great day for results. Two A's and a B for English, and an A and a B for French. I'm tired, I've been watching A Very Potter Musical all night and thinking about the moon. Nothing exciting. I promise to make an intereting post tomorrow. Promise.

This Is Not Last Minute.

Okay so maybe it is. I can't he bothered to put anything meaningful into this post today so I'm just gonna sum up my day.

I like it when people decide to come to see a performance I'm in. It makes me feel proud that I'm doing something that I love and other people can appreciate, and bearing that in mind, I went to see through school performance of Beauty and the Beast. I couldn't recall the plot at all, and I'm still a little confused, but I get the gist now, and the show was brilliant.

It's not been a bad day for my speech loss, but I'm still noticing it a lot more than usual. I'm afraid that teachers might think that I just don't listen if they ask me a question and I can't answer it, so I'm planning on seeing my head of year tomorrow. Of course my fear on that matter is that I'll get in there and I won't be able to speak, so I'll probably require some sort of backup in there, just in case.

I'm also worried about the speed I'm reading books at. I haven't read one for a week and I'm afraid that I'm going to fail my 50 book challenge. 

Wish me luck.

SUCCESS!

Yes! Finally! I'm helping someone to improve their fanfiction!! Ahh, I'm so tired and I'm not well at all...

If you're here from the Facebook page...

Welcome to my strange world. There's no going back now. Muahahahahahaaaa... Anyway, thanks for being interested.

The first few posts you'll see as you scroll down are kinda boring, but trust me, it gets better.

Social Awkwardness: Stage 2

Except I don't think it is a stage two.

In a lot of ways, I've really come out of my shell in the past few years, but my occasional inability to form a coherent sentence is fast becoming more and more... less... occasional. Pun intended.

But seriously, I've been in a lot more frequent situations where I find myself unable to actually speak, and  I can't even tell you whether I'm able to make noises when I'm in these situations, because it's never occurred to me to try, although I'd imagine I'm usually capable. It's not a loss of voice I experience, it's just a lack of words, and especially after today, quite honestly, I'm a bit scared. I explained this to my mum and she suggested going to the doctors, and I think it might be a good idea.

This sort of thing only tends to happen in speech, but I can't really narrow it down to any sort of situation. The most recent and common occurrences are when I'm explaining or justifying things, but it's so common when I'm just in a normal conversation. It's been suggested that it might be worsening when I'm tired or stressed, which would explain why I've been so terrible today. with the awkward and the silence and the oh my God, why is my mind not producing words?

Ugh. I'm actually having trouble writing right now, but tat might just be because I really am tired and stressed. Peace off.

Zzz.

I'm so tired. Goodnight.