Here she goes again...

Tonight has really been one of those 'feel everything' nights. Feeling everything inside, but nothing happening on the outside. I decided to watch Love, Rosie. Not for any particular reason, except for the fact that I love a hopelessly romantic, cheesy film from time to time - and what better time than on a Sunday? So, while I sit here, feeling all the butterflies in my tummy, it doesn't take long until reality kicks in again. That's why I love those films. No, they're not exactly feminist. They would never pass the Bechdal test. But they do allow you to go into a world of fantasy that seems almost reachable. I guess that would be why they're so incredibly bad for you. Especially someone like me.

I never shy away from my romantic life on this blog. Maybe that's because nothing ever happens. But I think even announcing that is brave. It never feels 'normal' for a nineteen year old to be single and have no prospects of anything other than that, and yet here I am. That's why I think it's brave, because I'm stupidly paranoid about it. Now, I know it's wrong to even put that word 'normal' into a sentence when discussing teenage life (emphasis on the inverted commas), because everyone's different. But going from my experience, I can feel slightly pitied and even patronised when discussing romantic endeavours. I mean, come on, even calling sex and relationships 'romantic endeavours' screams virgin. I like to believe this patronising is all in my head and no one really cares, but that's hard to convince yourself when all anyone wants to know and talk about is sex. 

I've convinced myself a lot of the time that I'm fine. I've never been in a relationship, meaning I don't know any different. But right now, I really want that to change. I really want people to be jealous of me. I really want someone to care for me - again, not very feminist. Actually, scrap that 'care for me', no, I want someone to care about me. I know my friends do, and I know they are great, but they have others they also care about. Who they care more about. I want to be somebody special to someone else. I want to know that when I get lonely, I always have someone to talk to. This paragraph has become incredibly selfish, but I think sometimes you need those selfish moments to reveal what you truly want. I promise, this will be the last selfish post for a while (I can't promise forever, it is my blog). 

This is why I should stop watching anything vaguely romantic. Crazy ideas get in my mind and I start comparing myself to fictional characters. Their life is scripted. Sometimes you can forget that about a film.

The best people in life are free

I realise it has been quite a while, and for that, I am sorry. Or perhaps, you have not missed me at all? Is it not presumptuous of me to assume that many of you will be refreshing my blog for just one more post/sentence/word from me, a tear dropping on your keyboard each time nothing comes around? What a strange and sad image. Well, if you were like that (which I doubt), then wipe those tears off your keyboard! For here is Mabel, back in Birmingham after another term at University. You may be pleased to hear that it's all going well. I love the friends I have made and Bristol is the most amazing city, you should all come. But now I'm back in Bham, everything seems far more complicated. 

I have realised that being away from home can make you over-emphasise how great it was. While talking to my new friends in Bristol I would go on and on about an individual person ('oh, so and so does the funniest thing') and then you come back and all the shit rushes back. Of course I love it here as well. I love my family and my friends, but they're not normal. Well, who is? But being away, and comparing it with other people's family's that you don't know can make you think they are amazing. What I seemed to mainly forget was how dramatic my group of friends are. It's as if they thrive off drama, meaning they make it worse than it actually is. Why can't people just be easy on themselves and on others? Why does everything always have to be such a big deal? Ever since college I have lived my life assuming that everything will be crap, therefore, when it comes to it, it is crap but you're fine because you expected it, or it is better than you thought. For me, that makes life easier. If you have read my other blog posts you would probably know that is my mantra to living. Once you realise that life is shit, everything gets a tiny bit easier. 

I just wish others felt the same. When I have told people this the usual reply is that it's sad. Of course it is! But that's what life is! Life is filled with sad moments, however, once we realise this, the happy moments come as a shock and become more important to us. This year I began losing this though. I began getting my hopes up about situations and making little stories in my head before they happened. Of course, these narratives never happened (because that's not how life works, it's unfair) and I started to get very low. I had a constant numbing pain in my stomach and my head began comparing myself to others around me, making me dislike them while they did nothing wrong. I should have written a blog post instead of keeping it inside because it grew and grew until I broke down in the middle of a cafe with a friend. Luckily, the embarrassment of my tears made me realise how stupid it was to feel the way I did. Crying does not show weakness. Crying is strength. Crying makes you vulnerable in a way that screams, 'yes, I am being brave as I am showing you my emotions!' Most of all, crying lets all the bad thoughts out. What I'm trying to say is that if you've felt anxiety recently, have a good cry. I wouldn't necessarily suggest in a cafe in front of a lot of people, but perhaps with the closest person you know. Or if not, when you're alone, because even that takes strength, to reveal your emotions to yourself. 

Quite often these feelings can come from other people. Recently many of my friends have mentioned how someone's reaction to their feelings made them feel incredibly shit. What I'd also like you to realise (other than that life is shit) is that people are shit. People are great as well. But a lot of them are shit. You will be able to find the right people. But also, everyone is selfish one way or another. Everyone includes you and me. We never realise how much we affect other people because we're too busy thinking about whether we've done the right thing or not. Which may seem nice, and it is, but does this not also feed someone's ego? I don't mean to quote the most high culture sitcom of the 20th century, Friends (please note the sarcasm), but there's the whole episode where Phoebe tries to do good for others without building her own ego and it's impossible. But not only that, people are often thinking about themselves before thinking about others. Once we realise that the whole world doesn't revolve around ourselves, perhaps then it'll be simpler. But til then, we must not get bogged down when someone hasn't lived up to our standards of how they should be. Something might be amazing/stressful/important to you which is mediocre to someone else. 

I feel like this blog post was filled with many ideas that could be used in more than one post. But as I hadn't written in a while, I wanted to get it all down now! I'm sorry if it doesn't make much sense, I'm tired and my head is filled with nonsense. I will try to keep up with the blog!

A Room Without A View

I have officially been at the University of Bristol for a week and it's been rather crazy. After having a relatively quiet and sad first day, as I only had two other people in my flat (one never leaving his room and the other being completely wet) the week has become marginally better. One more person arrived, a girl this time, who I actually have a lot in common with and who actually wants to go out and be social. However, I constantly have this paranoia that everyone I tag along with is annoyed with me. My flat is quiet. We don't usually pre-drink together because half the people don't even want to go out so we find another flat. That's where I feel unwanted.

I live in the city centre with a lot of noise and a car park to look out on too, but I'm used to it being from the big city Birmingham. I look around and I feel like everyone has made best friends already and I'm sat in my room going insane and still watching Friends reruns. I'm really trying my best though. I have met some great people but you know when someone gives you a look or says something weird and you become incredibly uncomfortable? Yeah, that happens to me a lot. I think I must blow it straight out of proportion. Everyone's nervous, everyone's uncomfortable, everyone's new. So, I have kept trying and I've had some great nights.

The other day I felt a bit low. I've already got 'fresher's flu' and I was feeling lonely. But it is getting easier. I feel way more comfortable in my flat now - I was just watching Friends in the kitchen in a rather unflattering position and didn't give two shits what anyone thought! I just wish I had a more of a 'family flat' which everyone else seems to have. There I go again, comparing myself to everyone else. But I do feel like I'm getting better. Rather than letting that paranoia and jealousy eat me away, I've fought it. I still constantly text people to ask what they're doing. I still invite people out. I still tag along. And because I do that, I've had some great nights. I just really don't want another dreadful three years after my years at college.

Bristol is beautiful. I've already fallen in love with all the buildings and rivers and boats and cafes and bars and pubs and amazing things. There's always something to do here...However, there is a massive hill up to the university that will be the death of me. I wonder if Kate Bush was thinking about this hill when writing 'Running up that Hill' because my god, it is huge. Luckily, doing English means I'm only in 7 hours a week (I know and I'm paying £9000 a year) so less time for me to walk up that hill. I've come to every lecture so far drenched in sweat. Not a good first impression. (It's really not, people actively don't talk to me because of it but they're bitches). One bit of advice, don't bother with bitches. Work out who are the twats early on and don't spend time with them. You're amazing and they're not worth it.

Well, this blog post was a bit all over the place, which is just like my brain right now. I'm still settling in but I felt that I should write something to let you guys know how it's going. I'm sorry about this being so dreadful. Better post next time! I promise!

Uncertainty

When I was in nursery, my parents were told that I had the capacity to enjoy myself in any situation. My mum likes to repeat that statement because it's usually true. In the past I have even won prizes because of this - in year 3 we went on a trip to a car museum (the most dull place on earth) but for some reason I had a really great day (I even took a picture of a road because I found it so exciting) and because of this I won 'pupil of the day' and a t-shirt. Then again in year 5 I won 'star of the year' at school (all while experiencing my world falling apart at home). But now I fear that part of me is fading and I'm desperately trying to hold on.

I have just been on holiday with my friends in Portugal. While I was happy with my company, it wasn't the most enjoyable experience for me. After experiencing a panic attack on the first day, I was wary about the whole situation. So while I suffered in silence, my friends shouted "I LOVE LIFE" to strangers and had the best week of their lives. It's nice to observe but there comes a time when you've had enough and want someone to understand how you're feeling...even while not really knowing yourself how you feel and why you feel this way.

At first I thought it was jealousy. I have spoken a lot on this blog about my feelings on jealousy, so you should all know it's the worst feeling. After living with my family for eighteen years, there was no way I could escape thinking life is "beautiful" - instead I see it as all meaningless, just like Woody Allen said, "the future is just the same as the past but longer." So could you blame me for being jealous of my friends' optimistic views on life? Or maybe I'm right and it's stupid to be optimistic and I'll end up having the last laugh? Either way, they're happy now and I'm not so sure what I am.

My mum has always said that once you understand everything is meaningless, everything gets easier. She's told people at her work this theory who have actively come back to her and thanked her for this revelation. While I completely understand where she's coming from, what if I don't want to think everything is meaningless? I mean, I'm an 18 year old woman. Am I not meant to have the whole world ahead of me? Or is that just a stupid thing to say? My head is stuck in an endless cycle of questions that I don't (and probably will never) know the answer to.

I have it in my mind that only positive people get ahead. I have this picture of me in twenty years time, meeting my friends and they have a great job, a big family, and are happy and successful, and I'm exactly the same. Drowning in my thoughts, not getting on. Perhaps I'm being brain-washed by the media who want us to feel being positive is the only way to get ahead just to help out the big guys - that's always my go to answer because it's usually true. Or perhaps everyone worries about this. The future is so uncertain to everyone so if it is all meaningless, this worrying is all for nothing and I'll never get this 30 minutes back.

Sorry for the stress induced from this post. I have my A Level results coming out on Thursday and, to put it mildly, I am shitting myself. I also haven't been writing because my laptop has been broken but now it's fixed! So more posts will be coming from me soon.

The Other Side

It's a week today since my last exam. I've spent my freedom reading, thinking and going out 'til 4am with my friends. I guess, at 18, I finally feel like a proper teenager. But all these late nights have finally caught up on me and I'm tired all the time. I guess it's good I decided to save the late nights until after college. It seems I have this weird thing where I think I'm different to how I actually am. I think I'm better and I ooze that confidence when I'm out, but it doesn't fit. It's not my personality, but my looks. I just can't decide if it's a good thing or not?

We will never be able to see ourselves, only our reflections and pictures - to me, that seems really strange. I wouldn't ever say I'm the best looking person, because I'm not, I've never thought that, but I do always think I'm better than I actually am. When I walk down the street, I don't think about my chunky thighs banging together, or my round tummy wobbling. I imagine myself as someone else, someone that doesn't exist, someone with a lot of confidence, who can get up in the morning and leave the house with a smile on their face. I don't do it in order to do those things, I just naturally picture myself like that. Sadly, you can imagine my disappointment when I expect so much but get so little because of my imagination.

You can imagine my shock when I see photographs of myself, or I look in the mirror. But even then, I don't hate myself. But I don't change myself when I know I can and probably should. I have one life, or so they say, and this is what I'm trapped in. I think this persona I have in my mind is me, just not who I'm projecting.  Sometimes I feel like unzipping this current layer and stepping out as the person I assume I am - but it's never that easy. It seems this is similar to the 'fake it 'til you make it' saying - perhaps this is what I'm doing. Or maybe I'm just mental.

Perhaps I don't ooze this confidence, but I feel like I do. I'm an introvert, sometimes. It always depends who I'm with. With my friends, I breakout of my shell and this is when I'm this 'other' person. I do like to think that this must be the real me. I feel like this is what Allen Ginsberg was like, or maybe he really was just a confident, pretentious twat. Or the same with any other poet, writer. I feel like you need this other side of yourself because without it, will be ever have art with meaning? If people were fully their confident type, art would be selfish. Without confidence, we would live a lifeless existence without literature to get us through it.

Well, I don't know where my mind is going with this. I didn't plan for that ending, that's for sure. Maybe it's because I recently finished an amazing book (The Song Of Achilles by Madeline Miller) which I think you should all read. If you've read a really good book recently, please recommend it to me, I'm in need, now I've finished my book, I don't really know what to do with myself. Also, now I've finished with my a levels, maybe you'll be seeing more of me...or maybe I'll still be stuck in my writer's block. Either way, keep sending me messages to inspire me please.

(Just had to, look at that moustache - oh and relationship like Paul and Linda's please: favourite song at the moment.)

My youth is gone like a dream...

I finally turned 18 last week! I'm an adult! That must mean that I won't be posting any more blog posts moaning about life...oh wait, I'm still technically a 'teen' and everyone moans about life, not just teenagers, right? Other than turning 18, I've also gone past my 1 year anniversary of having this blog and, oh god, do I moan a lot. But, everyone knows, and seems to forget, it's hard growing up. I had the nicest email from Rosalindis last week and it made me realise that I'm not alone in my struggles and that's comforting for me. If anyone else would like to send me an email about anything (nothing rude though) then my email is at the bottom of my blog.

I do know how lucky I am. I have great friends and through that I have been able to do amazing things with them. One of my friends, for my birthday, got me loads of photographs of our fun times together. While my family were looking through them, each one said how lucky I was and they never had a teenage life like it. I know. I'm super lucky. That doesn't mean that things still don't get me down. Everyone feels down at some point. College gets too stressful or your friends are having an argument. Either way, we all want somewhere to vent...weirdly enough, I choose to do that online where anyone and everyone can read it.

Rosie also said something that made me scream in my head "YES, YES, YES! You get it!" "I guess going over the top is the whole point of being a teenager. If we cant be radical now, then when can we?!" We're all a bunch of mopey teenagers that feel like they have something to say and want to say it. What's the harm in that? And that idea has been going on for centuries. I'm currently doing coursework comparing Charlotte Bronte's 'Jane Eyre' with Jean Rhys' 'Wide Sargasso Sea' and both of those authors were incredibly grumpy. They lived with their heart of their sleeve. My favourite quote by Charlotte Bronte was when it was her birthday she wrote, "My youth is gone like a dream; and very little use have I ever made of it." I like to think that we're all wearing our hearts on our sleeves like Charlotte.

Jean Rhys also said one of my favourite quotes,

 “When I was excited about life, I didn't want to write at all. I've never written when I was happy. I didn't want to. But I've never had a long period of being happy, Do you think anyone has? I think you can be peaceful for a long time, When I think about it, if I had to choose, I'd rather be happy than write. You see, there's very little invention in my books. What came first with most of them was the wish to get rid of this awful sadness that weighed me down . I found when I was a child that if I could put the hurt into words, it would go. It leaves a sort of melancholy behind and then it goes.” 

Whenever I write, it's usually because I'm unhappy about something and want to be rid of it. Jean has literally managed to get my whole concept of writing this blog in a paragraph, and I love her for it. I like to think that each generation of teenage girls are filled with hopeless romantics like Jean, Charlotte, me, the people who read my blog and the people I follow. It's not that we're not 'lucky' it's just sometimes life gets us down and we like to write about it. We might over-emphasise a factor of something, but isn't that just to engage the reader more? Isn't that what you do when you're a hopeless romantic? So many people have made a living out of it so we must be doing something right.

Fake it 'til you make it?

I'm quite a shy person when it comes to talking to new people. If I'm surrounded by others, then I won't be. It's a strange thing, but I seem to be more confident with people than on my own.  Maybe they're a kind of support for me? I don't know. But one thing I do hear often is the phrase - 'Fake it 'til you make it'. And I've struggled to understand it. If you're already shy, how are you able to 'fake it' in the first place?

If I have to have a one to one meeting with a teacher or something, I automatically feel nervous about it. No matter what it is. In the past, they haven't gone well (with me ending up crying) so maybe I'm haunted by the past. But anyway, yesterday, I had to talk to my vice-principle about something and before going in I had 'fake it 'til you make it' circling in my head. I walked in. Sat down. And fought for what I wanted. I came out and my face was bright red, but at least I didn't cry. Maybe it was because the man I was talking to was really patronising and I felt that I had to show him that I can speak up for myself. Or maybe I did in fact....fake it. Either way, I got the outcome I wanted.

But in the past I've pondered on this phenomenon. It doesn't make sense to me that someone who is naturally shy would be able to fake it. I have some sassy friends who repeat that phrase to me but ever since I've known them, they've always been confident - they couldn't have been faking it when they were eight...could they? I feel so much admiration for them, because to me, being sassy with teachers is hard, but they get their way. I'm confident at home, with my friends, outside of school. But there's something about college/school that makes me quieter.

College is a place, for me, where I go in, get the stuff done and leave. I work hard and in return, I don't want it to stress me out - even though it of course will. I don't want to be embarrassed by getting a question wrong and I don't want to annoy teachers by pestering them about stupid little things. However, this year, I've started doing those things. Every Friday I go and pester my tutor to ask if I have to go to tutorial that day and even if the outcome isn't what I wanted, I'm pleased I did it. I still rarely ask teachers for help but I do have a rapport with them, which is hard in a class of thirty.

What I guess I'm trying to say is that, I don't think I'm 'faking it', I think I'm growing up. Talking to grown ups gets easier once you get older and I seem to have only realised that after my meeting yesterday. I'm actually so proud of myself. My 15 year old self would have given in but here I am, two years on and I now have less stress to deal with. I don't think I'm going to suddenly become really confident in classes but I'll get there in the end. It turns out instead of faking it, I have to wait to make it.

Inside a lazy person's mind

I saw 'Inside Llewyn Davis' last night and it seems that the Coen Brothers have done it again. Their parents must be so fucking proud. I now long to live in New York and write films, however, I doubt that will ever happen. Unlike the Joel Coen, I didn't work at the age of eight to save up to buy a camera and then make remakes of films I had already seen. Instead, I had no idea what I wanted to do. Who does at the age of eight? I went from pop star, to hairdresser, to writer (to be honest I still want to be this) to actress (and this). I change my mind so often that I've started to put off things because I think I'll change my mind again. Or maybe I put off things because I'm lazy...that seems more likely.

Everything for Llewyn Davis was just going wrong. No one would buy his music. Everyone around him was doing well. And he just spent his time finding sofas to sleep on for the night at someone's house. I felt so much empathy for him. I constantly feel like everyone else is doing so well and I'm stuck in a rut. Perhaps everyone feels this way - which I can see to be true. But even though everything seemed to be going wrong for Llewyn, he never seemed to give up. Not properly anyway. I, however, give up on things very easily. Even if I enjoy them. If they take up too much time, I'll stop doing it. If it's hard work, I'll stop doing it. Yes, it seems I am the epitome of a lazy person.

Maybe if I lived in New York it would be different. Maybe if I saw everyone else around me looking like they have a purpose I would keep going. Llewyn may have had it bad, but at least he didn't live in Birmingham. It would be a dream to even visit New York. But I also feel that there's no use having high hopes because they're more likely to crash and burn and make you feel worse. I, instead, make out that everything is going to be rubbish. A party. A result. A college day. So that when it happens, it's not as bad as I thought. If that makes me a pessimist, at least I get happy from the outcome.

Even though I know I'm lazy and I give up, I still keep doing it. However, when I'm 80 years old, I don't think I'll feel like I did nothing with my life. Not everyone can be Nelson Mandela. We must look at the small victories. For example, at the moment, my blog makes me feel like I'm doing something productive. It's helping my writing and the comments make me feel like I'm helping people. I just feel like people need to know they're not the only ones feeling the way they do, so that's why I write honest blog posts. So far, I've done this for nearly a year and I've kept up with it. I've had rocky moments but I've always come back.

Anyway, I highly recommend that you go and see Inside Llewyn Davis. It's perfect. The music in it was so amazing to watch, instead of cutting it half way through, they play the whole song. The best scene though is definitely when Oscar Isaac, Justin Timberlake and Adam Driver sing a song called 'Please Mr Kennedy.' Me and my brother have been singing it for nearly a week now and it never gets old. It's on youtube if you want to check it out - it won't ruin the film for you. The film is just really funny and relatable. Life's tough.

All pictures from Tumblr, you can tell I'm lazy because I can't be bothered to get the specific links... Maybe instead of Mabel's Mind, my blog url should be 'lazypersonsmind'

I've played all my cards

I always seem to get inspiration for a blog post, a film, a book at night. I don't know whether it's because nothing else around me is happening and it's only me, my bed and my thoughts but I always regret never writing them down (I'm lazy) because I never remember them the next day. Who knows, I could have the answer to the meaning of life but I don't remember it. Sometimes I write notes on my phone when I have a blog post idea and I checked just now but all it has is films I want to watch, books I want to read and Christmas present ideas (how selfish). This isn't going to be one of those cheesy 'new year, new me' things because I've been a new person for seventeen years now and I'm bored. Now I have to focus on A Levels.

I have all my offers for University. How daunting is that? They've given me grades that I need to achieve by the end of the year but I don't want to think about that. I need to stop thinking about the future and take each day as it comes. Whenever someone says that, I don't really understand what they mean. We all go through each day, we can't ever skip one. 'Live in the moment' is such a cheesy saying that I'm cringing just thinking about it. You can't 'live in the fucking moment' without what happened in the past and what will happen in the future. I'm sick of thinking about what I will achieve when I'm older. What I want to be. Who I want to become. University is a place where people assume their prospects are so high, that everything will work out for them. But as soon as you leave, it's like leaving out the back of a building where it's all dark and mouldy and stinks of shit.

I'm not being a pessimist. I can't wait for University and the opportunities and all that crap but at the moment I want to take advantage of the fact that I'm still technically a child. I have my parents and friends. I don't feel like that's an unhealthy thought. So many people want to grow up but I'm the opposite, I would happily stay dependent on my mum but I know one day I'll have to walk through the door to the back of the building. But for now, I want to listen to Abba on my new record player and read all the shit books that make me happy and watch my favourite films.

I hope we all had a good Christmas. I go on YouTube a lot and so many people are doing the 'what they got for christmas' thing. I don't care. I just want to know if everyone was well. If you missed anyone. If the food was amazingggg. I also hope you had a good New Years. I spent mine with my friends. This will be the last New Year where we're all living in the same place and I'm not sure we're ready. I don't think anyone is ready for University, you just have to do it. I could easily be a hermit and stay in my bed and have no social interactions but you just have to do things to be a human being.

Oh yeah, I also really want to change my blog url because it's embarrassing but then isn't it really complicated to do? Don't you lose all your followers or something? 

All pictures from Tumblrrrrrrr.

Imagine

I have a pretty good imagination. I always have. I have tons of stories that I like to read from when I was younger (one about a girl with no hair and finding a fairy to grow her hair? I don't know what was going in my mind that day). Most of the time I love it but recently it's become a nuisance. Do you ever imagine something that you want to happen and you plan it all out in your mind? I always do and it's always ludicrous. The reason this has become annoying to me is because every time it happens I realise, hey, that's never going to happen. So I get my hopes up for nothing and then I'm dissapointed.

 It wasn't til recently when I was reading 'I Capture the Castle' that I realised how much I did this. Cassandra (the main girl) was daydreaming about a wedding and when she snapped out of it she realised it was never going to happen. For some reason that never clicked in my brain before. I always thought there was a chance it still could. I never would daydream that aliens would take over the planet or I would find a dinosaur egg, I mostly imagine conversations with new people and how they would go and they seem like realistic things to dream about. Of course, I never even pluck up the courage to talk to them in the first place, let alone for that conversation to happen. 

I know everyone goes through this. We all daydream/imagine things. Better things. But now I always get cross when I do it. Before I fall asleep I like to plan out days in my head but now I can't because I know it's not going to work out like that. I have to live each day as they come, no matter how stressful they are. My life at the moment has been pretty stressful. I was really pleased with my results except one. It was really letting the pack down and I still can't stop thinking about it. I now probably have to re-think my whole University path which is why my daydreaming is not good. College doesn't help. We're meant to have decided what we want to do at University by now. But what if that all changes? What if we've all imagined our life as one thing and then it doesn't work out? These things happen and we shouldn't have to go through crap just because something has turned out differently. I wish life was smooth and easy but it never is and never will be. I just wish this sick feeling in my stomach would go away.

Other than that, I'm glad to be alive thanks to the arts. I went to see About Time last night which was a perfect feel-good film that really made me happy. Then tonight I watched The Impossible which was really life-affirming. I went to the Bristol University Open Day and I went to an English lecture. While I was there my stomach was feeling really sick and I thought I wouldn't be able to handle the stress. But then the lecturer said something that really helped. She said that when you see a piece of art or read a book or watch a film that is really good, just for a second, you are free. It's the only time you will ever be away from yourself and free. It's the thing we always want. It made me realise how helpful literature really is and how much I would love to study it.