Happy BuJo Day

I found out a couple of days ago that I have been awarded a Bullet Journal Foundation Scholarship. I have spent a couple of days meeting people in the community.

Mood:

Introducing my new planner

I hadn't expected to be writing this blog post in this century! Yes, I am now a planner girl. And, yes, I'm back on blogspot. Here's how it happened...

source: ocasa.org.uk/post/thoughts-of-a-foundation-student

I have been using a weekly diary this year. It's a space for me to write about my recovery, and be a little bit creative. Part of me wants to share my layouts, because I think they are fun, and the rest of me doesn't feel ready to share information about my health. 

So last week I decided to go to my local TJ Maxx to get a second diary. As I browsed I spotted a flash of bright pink, it was a filofax like the one Gala Darling used to have (but smaller). I was temporarily inspired, and nearly reached for it.

Then I saw the Carpe Diem planners.

Collage

Ripping up magazines

Clothes that do not suit me

Faces that are not like mine

A life I cannot decipher

Am I supposed to aspire?

But I cut out the torso

Maybe, I dunno,

It would be easier

To live like this

But something's amiss?

Glue sticks affix

The body to the page

I write my rage

Alongside style notes

Catseyes, catsuit, cool toned lipgloss ✓

Rollercoaster

We put it down
to first time nerves.
Is a frown
not a clue?
Although exciting I need
to have trust in you.

Recipe

This is how I

Make a mojito

It is sweet

So watch how you go

Start with a glass

Long and tall

And get a jug

So it's easier to pour

Fill it with mint 

A handful is fine

A teaspoon of sugar and

The juice of a lime

I add the soda water now

But some do it last

Whatever your preference

Pour into the glass

Ideally over ice

Add 2 ounces of rum

No I don't garnish

I just down it in one

Be

I just hit the keys

To see what appears

Sometimes it is OK

Mostly it's queer

Think of word

Write it down

Think of another

With a similar sound

Or a funny pun

A hidden meaning

If that fails

Try whatever you are feeling

It has no rules

This anarchist prose

I just follow

Wherever it goes

No Pen

Striking twilight

I sit in front

Of a bright screen

And write

Eyes watering

I cannot switch off

Like that time at the supermarket

After I left hospital

Constant chattering

In my head and my teeth

The cola was too cold

So I cry

There is no follow-up plan

In the aisles I mutter

I cannot switch off

Dawn and taxis arrive

I fold into the seat

And shriek

Shut up!

Sixteen hundred

At sixteen hundred hours

The moon puts on their coat

Sits by the front door

And waits for the evening call

Looking out their window

They scoff

At the sun, lolling about

Like a dumb beach ball

London in summer

A summer evening in London is stunning

Hot, happy faces spill onto the sidewalk

I mourn what I am becoming

Strangers pass me, footsteps thrumming

Slight nods before I need to talk

A summer evening in London is stunning

A decade earlier I came running

The memory makes me baulk

I mourn what I am becoming

Sleazy nights succumbing

Circling like a hawk

A summer evening in London is stunning

Before I know it I am gunning

For folks with a fork

I mourn what I am becoming

I perceive the combat oncoming

Passersby gawk

A summer evening in London is stunning

I mourn what I am becoming

Upsilon

Why

Why I

Why I oughta

This regular dialogue

Tires me

Why

I investigate every move

Trying to understand

Why

This happens

That happens

Why

Why I

Why I Write

Stands on my bookshelf

Na

Nee naw nee naw nee naw

I hear more

Often than not

Accented in the wrong spot

Like a drunken syllable

Announcing their presence

When they should just go home

Shh go to sleep

Harden your tongue

Like a nyuh

Sounds like butter

Or a karate-dō cat

Sometimes I am a number

Nine ah

It strikes me

Like a child swirling

Around a piñata

Sealion

Please could you clarify?

Explain your meaning

Elaborate

Feign heartstring

Hide intentions

Flapping flippers

A calculated diversion

Slipping into distortion

Contorted face

Walking the dinosaur

With Clyde and Seamore

A misdirect

Laying your trap

Awaiting an opening

To talk crap

Thistle

Have less

Need less

Undress

Confess

Lust less

Want less

Oppress

Possess

Loathe less

Brawl less

Transgress

Rage less

Unless

SOS

Eighteen

☀ 

Riding rays

Hazed

Nymphs in my nostrils

Check off chills

Filling files

Millennial miles

☼ 

Fluid floods

Stern-faced studs

Dazed

Greedily glazed

Bare buttocks

In sandals with socks

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Tresillo

Bass bass-bass

Snared

My head thumping

Duvet covered

Tender declarations

Of longing

But better

I miss the urge

Honey-dripped

Behind your words

So good

What did you build?

Aunty, what did you build in Minecraft when you were young?

Er

I remind him young-er

Because the time he means

Is a decade ago

I was thirty

Not five like he

I remind him 

Things were different

There were less mobs

And I never saw foxes

The villagers looked the same

I explain

I built a waterslide

And a music box circuit

When the tune finished

I launched a rocket

He laughs

And shows me his screen

A zombie trap

Shadows the map

Pistons and bricks click

As tunnels move the undead

To the edge of a cliff

Where they fall

And my nephew collects their flesh

I'm game

Sense of fair play

Inspiring curiosity

A place to take risks

Measuring success

Just fun

The game has begun

---DEBUG---

The quad

A morning of possibilities

Hungover overrun

Bodies crammed in the smoking shelter

Between bells

Scoffing and coffees

Sketchbooks scattered on benches

Pens scribble promises

Doodle daydreams

Lovers loiter in the far field

Braving goodbyes until lunchtime

The grassy ground balding

Flowerbeds full of weed

Surrounded by glass

Folks fog up the overpass

Swirly skirts spread out 

On the patio

Colours explode 

Dancing down the road

Neon hair, pastel scarves

Cacophony of laughs

Walkie Talkie

The screech breaking up

Night-time stillness

A charming voice

Wishes me goodnight

Static salt-and-peppers

Our routine

Conversation continues

Until we are told to go to sleep