Good Fridays, Bad Tuesdays.

Ah, see, I knew I was onto something by posting songs instead of everyday trivia:

"Ladies and Gentlemen, there's no news tonight, so here's some music!"
(Well, let's just pretend there wasn't - we'll all be that much happier for it.)

If there's somebody out there...

...Ah, go on, throw in another one for good measure. This is from the same album as the last one, and, oh boy, did I love it! I know, I'm pretty weird that way (well, I certainly didn't think so for a long time, but people have corrected my error since...), but I used to pore over my dictionary for hours on end until I had looked up all the unknown words, I wanted to drink in the lyrics and soak the words right up, then listened to the song over and over again until I knew it by heart.

So, if you have 8:47 to spare, listen to me, just hear me out and spare a thought for the would-be-philosopher, sceptical-yet-expectant, angst-ridden-but-unshakeable teenagers you and I once were.

The Russian princess.

Today, for want of energy and original thoughts to share, we continue the popular series of all-time favourites, as selected by me, obviously. Triggered I guess by the first hint of frost in the air today, the general melancholy nature of autumn in general and Mondays in particular, by something my sister said or simply randomly thrown at me by the terribly cluttered hard drive that is my mind, we seem to have stranded in that not so far-flung corner of my soul called adolescent weltschmerz. So, thanks Fish, for providing the soundtrack.

Viva la vida.

I don't really feel like writing much lately and wouldn't really know where to begin anyway. The last two weeks have been brimful with all kinds of music-related stuff, some of them good and inspiring and some of them not so much so.
Also, that stupid feeling of foreboding from two posts back was and still is totally justified, especially now with uni and school crashing down on me with combined force once again.
If only they hadn't destroyed all the Time-Turners in the Department of Mysteries of the MoM!
I'm so not looking forward to the next few months, but since that is an unwholesome and not altogether serviceable thought, I will stop blathering on about it and simply shut up.

Instead, here's some of my favourite kids (once more) singing one of my favourite songs.
Yes, much better.

Truce be told.

How very comforting to know that days such as yesterday, brimfull with whinging and self-loathing and discontent, can still be followed by mornings like this!

Waking up to a turquoise-turning-pink dawn,
winning the short but fierce fight against the lazy devil inside me,
walking through still silent streets in time to be one of the first to enter the swimming pool,
taking long, even strokes through the cool water,
watching the first rays of sunlight dance on the ripples,
casting thousands of flickering miniature suns onto the blue tiles...

Later, miraculously, there was a coffee stall right outside the swimming pool as I came out, placed there very circumspectly by my favourite cafe and luring me over by playing David Grey. So I had a fresh, buttery croissant to compensate any sustained calorie-loss and walked home through the golden October morning.
Apparently, the weather was quite lovely yesterday as well. Must have somehow escaped my notice.

"And all the clouds that low'r'd upon our house
in the deep bosom of the ocean buried."

Richard the Third, Act 1, Scene 1, 3-4.

Wishy-washy.

I wish life was easier.
I wish I was a lot better at taking it easier.
I wish I was lighter-hearted and much, much more energetic.
I wish I wasn't trapped in this stupid lethargy.
I wish that for once I was able to actually do and tick off those chores and tasks that have been cluttering up the to-do list in my head for ages and ages and are colluding to form this venomous ball of foreboding in my stomach. (And rightly so.)
I wish I would do all this stuff and then, miraculously, feel just so much better about myself. Clean, organised, deserving...something.
I also wish university regulations and course-allocation lottery mechanisms weren't such a bitch.
I wish I had the money to hire a cleaner. And a PA, specialising in looking for and finding misplaced documents, filing/throwing away unneeded paperwork and dealing with any kind of contact with bureacracy and other grown-up, cringe-inducing stuff.
I wish I wasn't lying on my bed right now writing this but sticking to my mental schedule instead and very simply folding away those three-and-a-half loads of dry laundry that have been living on my sofa for, respectively, one, two, three weeks and a half. Other people do it, too, you know. I've seen it happen!

I wish I wasn't kidding myself every single day. And buying it, too! What a nutcase! At least other people have the decency of being screwed over by someone else...

The soul dweller.

The way Mary Fons manages to capture those thoughts and feelings that have been lurking in the deepest corners of my soul, waiting to be set free by a spark of eloquence but in my case always - quite soberingly - stopped short by inability, never ceases to amaze me.

I love you.