Writing

Pink Carnations

Not a single call, note or text
Just a missing set of keys
Gone at a quarter past 12
When you thought I wouldn’t see

It became a frequent occurrence
For you to disappear,
Vanish without a goodbye
Into the cold night air

Where would you go,
To the shop, or the pub? And then
I realised you were cheating, darling
You just couldn’t cover it up

Around 5 you’d come back
Believing I was asleep
Slinking under the covers
Before the alarm started to beep

It was driving me insane
The daily distance in your eyes
Love gone, and purely absent
Replaced with tired, empty sighs

You thought you were clever
But I found out her name
If only you were smarter
Honey, you’re not, what a shame

Now the wondering is gone
And I can sleep without pretending
I feel relief now, my love
The constant stress finally ending

It’s much better now that
I always know your location
Since I buried you next to her
Right underneath our pink carnations

From: Creative Writing

Writing

New Story: A Change of City

New bit of flash fiction added to the site today! Inspired by my favourite band’s song A Change of Heart, it’s a small piece about being in the very moment of a break-up.

I could see the desperation in her eyes but her lips remained sealed. Her expression revealed everything, but she would never admit it. She would never admit when she was hurt, when I was hurting her.

Minutes dragged by as I watched her hold in tears. “Is there someone else?” Her sweet anger made me smile internally, and I was careful not to show it on my face.

“There is always someone else,” I explained, unsure how….[read more]

Misc., Writing

What it’s like having many things to write…

It is wearing a ball gown while wading through the thickest waist-high mud for miles and miles

Needing to light a hundred feet tall candle with one little match and no ladder

A thousand bees inside a small, metal box with one coin-sized hole

Seeing the finish line before the starting gun goes off

Trying a particular lipstick and it changing into another shade by midday

Sticky notes that keep falling off the wall and disappearing between the floorboards

Your dad’s heavy denim jacket that you will never grow into

Turning the volume up as high as it will go and still straining to hear the music

Eating until you are full and still feeling like you are starving

Waiting for the knock on the door when you’re sitting in a meadow

It is reaching the other side of the bridge before you have set one foot on it to cross.

I always want to write, every minute of every day, and I always have ideas in my head. Ideas that might be big, and they might last for no longer than two seconds. They’re all still there, and they’re all very loud and blinding.

When they are small, it’s hard to justify the effort to put them onto paper.

And when they are big stories that are bouncing around in my head, that are so complicated, I would need to sit in silence for a week to even grasp them with both hands.

Sometimes there is no motivation to write anything, fictional or otherwise. Sometimes this site goes neglected and unloved for weeks at a time. And sometimes I can’t stop. Sometimes it’s unhealthy when I stay awake until the small hours, scribbling by lamplight.

All to often, the desire to write plagues me but my body refuses. Together, we make the decision not to pick up the pen and notebook. We can’t even use an app on the tablet. But the stories are there. The characters are screaming at me inside my head to let them out, but I can’t always release them.

I have never finished a project. Starting to write so young meant that my language was soft and poor. Looking at it now makes me cringe and I could never submit that anywhere, so it is added to the pile. I’m sure that pile is taller than me by now.

There is a colourful rush that comes with writing and a relief, as though eliminating a headache and making room in my head. I’ll never stop, no matter who comes along and degrades my work, because I write for me and no one else.

 

 

 

 

Misc.

Things are getting serious…

Writing my first blog post from my brand new machine is incredibly exciting. It’s offensively pink and small and the keyboard is beautiful to type on and I’m not sure I’ve fallen in love with something this quickly. Today, Sam bought me an HP Stream laptop/netbook and I love it. It’s for blogging, it’s for writing and everything that I want to achieve feels far more possible now. I’ve been feeling dissatisfied for a while now when typing on an iPad because you can’t feel the words that you type. Sure, you can hear a clickety-clack of the imaginary buttons as you type but I’ve got a thing about feeling the words. I handwrite a lot of my stuff because it feels better that way…

This means now that everything is official. I don’t have to borrow Sam’s Macbook anymore, I don’t have to steal computers at work to blog, and I don’t have to suffer with the layouts that the iPad can’t seem to handle on WordPress. I can blog to my heart’s content and it’s guaranteed to be a fast experience. I do have an old laptop, but it takes about two years to turn on so it’s a bit redundant when you have thoughts swimming around your head. Having a machine this useful also means that I can apply for jobs far easier and might actually get somewhere now (although I have an interview coming up for a chocolate company soon but shh).

All of this counts on me not being lazy and putting 110% effort into my dream. Or more, probably should be more. But it’s where I want to be and having my own typing machine with actual buttons is going to make sure I realise all of that.

Peace out.

Life Experience, Work, World

My Job Application to the World

Dear World,

I am Brittany Lee Holmes, a 22 year old Film and Television graduate from Yorkshire. I’m currently working as a sales assistant at two different places – a boutique store in the centre of York and the biggest and best railway museum in the country. This isn’t, however, what I want, understandably. My ultimate goal is to be a writer – fictional, journalistic, factual, anything, whether it’s under my own self-employment or within a company. I have a passion for the written word and feel that because it comes to me naturally, I could be successful with it.

My jobs at the moment are to earn money and gain experience in sales because marketing is an area that I have looked at. I have experience in customer service; making people happy and helping them in any way possible. I can handle cash accurately – something that seems to be becoming outdated and old fashioned now that cards and contactless payments are accessible to mostly everyone. Both of my jobs are on the front line, meeting people that are but strangers to me and dealing with some negativity. This is making me a stronger person. After being a meek teenager in high school and sixth form, working at the forefront of these businesses has made me blossom into a confident 22 year old who isn’t afraid of what people have to say to me, regarding the company that I am working for. The nature of my work means that I encounter complaints and unhappy customers, but after many experiences of this, I have developed a hard shell against it and adopted the mindset that it’s not me personally that they can be angry at. I am the face of the company for that few hours every week and nothing they can say will affect me.

My confidence is booming and after working in a high school for a year, I have perfected my poker face and a tone of voice that can send teenagers packing in an instant. I have learned how to command a room, how to grab the attention of disinterested 12 year olds and how to laugh off immature insults like they were little drops of rain. Not only has my time working in a high school given me a much needed confidence boost, it has also shown me what it’s like to work in a big, bustling environment. The job was varied and often I was expected to undertake tasks for which I’d had no training and I achieved things at that school that I never would have imagined I could achieve. I made a lot of friends at the school from all different departments – teachers, receptionists, health professionals, dinner ladies, principals and it’s really given me an insight into how everything runs and how educational establishments function. The reason I undertook this position was to get a taster of what it was like to work in a school because I’d been considering going into teaching. As it happens, I don’t want to be a teacher (yet) but I count it as a significant part of my life that gave me lots of valuable experience and skills I never knew I could have.

I’m applying to the world, appealing to anyone who should read this blog, in the hope that someone, somewhere will read my words and learn a little about my story. I’m not on the look out for someone to give me a wonderful job (as amazing as that would be) but I want this blogging community to know that yes, I’m working somewhere I wouldn’t necessarily choose and no, I’ve not yet given up hope. I’m writing everyday; I will never give up that dream. I shelved the ambition to be a film director a couple of years ago, but being a writer is something that I can really see myself doing and being successful through it.

So, world, hear me. Hear what my little voice has to say and accept me, take me, find me a place in this cut-throat business and let me be useful. Let me speak to the world and let me be who I am. I’m not a sales assistant, I’m not a teaching assistant, I am a writer, I am Brittany Lee Holmes.