The stars and the sea.

There’s something intense about the beach at night.

I prefer the beach at night to during the day. When it’s totally empty, it’s just you and the sand and the waves and the moon. I was lucky enough to grow up very close to the sea, the beach was never something that was off-limits. I guess that’s why I find it such a relaxing place. I love beach bonfires and chilling with my friends on the sand or watching my dog play in the waves don’t get me wrong, but I love it when I’m there by myself, too. At night, it’s a good place to think or to figure things out. There are no distractions.

It gives me a feeling I can’t really explain. You’re totally alone, but at the same time you’re not. You know that somewhere in the world, someone else is looking up at the same moon you are, asking the same questions. You know that someone somewhere is swimming in the same sea that’s rolling up the shoreline metres away from you. You feel connected, but comfortably isolated at the same time.

To me at least, the beach is the perfect metaphor for life anyway. What is one grain of sand on a beach compared to the beach as a whole? It’s nothing. And that’s who we are – we’re that individual grain of sand that’s falling through our fingers as we play with it. We don’t matter, not really. We could disappear and it wouldn’t make a difference to the beach, or the world, as a whole. Our individual problems that we face, they’re huge to us. But they don’t matter in the long run. Soon enough, that grain of sand will be washed away by the waves, and nobody will ever know it’s gone missing. As the waves wash away my footprints that led me to sit on the beach at that moment, so too does time erase the past that led to the reason why.

It’s the perfect place to be if you’ve got issues. It makes you think about things, it puts your entire existence into perspective and it makes you realise that maybe things don’t matter as much as you think they do. It’s nice.

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CHARITY PUB QUIZ, RAFFLE AND AUCTION! The Sportsmans Inn, 24/7/13 @ 8pm

If you find yourself in Ivybridge on Wednesday, July 24 at 8pm, head down to The Sportsmans Inn and have a go at the pub quiz, take your chances with a raffle and bid on some amazing prizes all in the name of the Meningitis Research Foundation! All proceeds of the night go to the charity, which helps detection, prevention and research of the disease. Only £2 to enter the quiz!

The Woolwich attack

 

 

I was going to write a post about this, but I decided that I’d said all I needed to say in a facebook status. What happened at Woolwich (which if you’re not British and have missed out on, you can read about here) was disgraceful. But, having several muslim friends, I can’t stand it when people suddenly go ahead and blame the actions of few on an entire race or religion. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I read what some of my ‘friends’ were writing on facebook today. This was my response, and that’s all I have to say about it. Full stop.

opinion

 

Catfish

I watched a movie recently. It was called Catfish. It was freakin’ weird.

It did get me thinking, though. How well do we really know the people we speak to on the internet? People that, without realising, we speak to on a daily basis through websites such as twitter, tumblr, and even facebook.

As certain friends would tell you, I’ve had my fair share of people on twitter who turned out to be completely the opposite of that you think they are. I’m not talking about made up names and fake profile photos – I’m just talking about people who actually turn out to be disturbingly attached to you without you even realising. And it’s weird.

I’m going to give you a little case study as an example. I’m going to call this person Jack. It’s not their real name and I’m not going to give anything away about them. But they do exist. I’ll take you back to 2010. Jack had been following me for a few months prior, and I finally decided to follow him back. He seemed harmless, and had a good sense of humour. What was the worst that could happen? Fastforward to 2011. Jack added me on facebook, despite the fact the link to my facebook appeared nowhere on my profile. Okay, it’s a little weird, but I let it go. I did what I always do when people add me on facebook who I don’t want to offend – I accept them, leave it three weeks, and remove them. 99% of the time, they don’t notice. Jack did. He added me again, and deciding that there was nothing on there that would get me in any ‘trouble’ – after all, it’s just facebook, right? – I accepted. Again. Move on to 2012. He begins sending me private messages over facebook. At first, maybe one a month. By the end of 2012, closing up on one (or more) a day. Originally, they were fine. Just the standard, ‘Hey, how are you?’ that you might expect to find on twitter. I don’t like “clogging up” my twitter page with @ replies, so I figured it meant I didn’t have to if I humoured him over facebook. As time went on, they got more and more personal. I didn’t reveal anything, but Jack did. Things I didn’t want to know.

One of my biggest downfalls is that I care too much about other people’s feelings. I didn’t want him to be upset or anything like that, so I’d try and reassure him that these things he was telling me about would all be okay. Things would work out. Standard stuff. This apparently was not my best move. I replied to a message once saying that I thought what he was saying was inappropriate. This resulted in me learning how fragile he was and how little I could do without inducing some kind of severe anxiety. I suddenly felt like I couldn’t do anything, because it might tip him over the edge. I had to put up with it. In the end, I blocked him on facebook having told him I’d deactivated my account. That’d do it, I thought. He can’t message me anymore, as he believed my DMs on twitter didn’t work either. Things calmed down, but then every tweet I was posting was suddenly being replied to several times by him in different ways. He became clingy, desparate, and tried to get me to start texting him instead, telling me how much I meant to him, and what a great person I was. Enough was enough. Moving into 2013, and several years overdue, I blocked Jack on twitter. He tried to message me through other accounts he created, but I blocked them. He tried to get messages to me through my friends. It’s been about a week and a half now where Jack hasn’t tried to speak to me. I’m optimistic that he’s stopped now and won’t try again. He seems to have got the idea.

The point is – that guy who I thought was harmless and had a good sense of humour in 2010, ended up freaking the shit out of me in 2013. People aren’t always what you think they are, whether it’s through fake profiles or hiding their true personalities. If you haven’t seen Catfish, I highly recommend it. It’s thought provoking and gripping and all of those other cool things people say when they’re talking about a good movie. It highlights the importance of not taking online profiles at face value, and shows exactly how easy it is for you to be sucked into something you really don’t want to be a part of.

And it’s actually kind of scary.

Welcome to the end of the world.

It had to be done. I’m sure that 99% of other people on this planet who own a blog are writing something about the supposed ‘doomsday’ that’s apparently taking place today. Aside from the face it currently looks like Silent Hill outside because of thick fog, there doesn’t seem to be any sign of it yet.

Not that I’m taking this seriously. What people don’t seem to understand is that the end of the Mayan calendar did not signify the end of the world, but the beginning of a new era. I’m going to explain it quickly for people who don’t understand what I mean – the Mayan calendar is set out as 5 ‘numbers’ with four decimal points (for example, 14.0.0.0.0) where each number represents a unit of time (14.1.8.1.16 would precede 14.1.8.1.17) and each number counts to 20 before resetting itself and adding ‘1’ to the number to its left – with the exception of the second-right number which counts only to 17.

As of December 21st, 2012, the Mayan calendar will move into a new era and hit 13.0.0.0.0. The Mayans wouldn’t be running to their bomb shelters right now, and neither should you – it simply resets to 0.0.0.0.0 on December 22 and carries on. December 23 will be 0.0.0.0.1. Don’t quote me on this. It’s something I remember loosely from a science lesson and it could be wrong. Totally willing to admit that. But it gives you a basic understanding. The calendar reset on August 13, 3114 BCE and we’re still here today. Go figure.

If the world is actually scheduled to end at some point though, I think I’d like it to be by way of a zombie apocalypse. Your life would be like Shaun of the Dead, minus the Cornetto.

Whatever today – or the future – might hold, I doubt I’ll have all that much time to update this before Christmas or even New Year (though the obligatory “Merry Christmas!” and “Happy New Year!” posts will inevitably appear as scheduled) so I’ll take this opportunity to say that I hope each and every one of you have a fantastic Christmas and a totally amazing 2013. 

Because it will be there.

Nothing wrong with small boobs.

I turned on my TV earlier, and there was nothing to watch. Surprise, surprise. I ended up on BBC3, where there was a live debate going on about cosmetic surgery. I watched for a  few minutes before turning it off and watching Green Wing instead, but I’ve been thinking about it since. One of the points they were debating was whether or not cosmetic surgery should be banned or not. They were throwing up ideas such as that it is a waste of resources, that it promotes low self-esteem in people who don’t see themselves as good enough… you know. All the usual stuff. There weren’t that many people supporting the idea that it should be banned, and I totally understand why.

I know I’m young, and people my age are known for being liberal about things. And for the best part, I too have quite a liberal outlook on life. This applies when it comes to my views cosmetic surgery, too.

I firmly believe that it’s totally fine, no matter what circumstances it comes about under. I believe that those who need, for example, facial reconstruction after an accident, should be prioritised if a shortage of supplies and resources ever came about, but there’s absolutely nothing wrong with cosmetic surgery. I’ll be the first to admit that sometimes it looks ridiculous (I’m looking at you, Pete Burns) but we are in no place to judge people who make use of it. It can promote confidence, it can make people’s lives better, and it can doubtlessly enhance people’s careers – I didn’t see Zac Efron on the front pages of magazines before he had his teeth and nose done. Yes, it can be used to excess – but those people, the ones getting it done, they should be allowed to do whatever they want to their bodies without coming under criticism from other people. It’s their body, not ours. We’re not in a position to say that Sharon Osbourne’s cheeks are too big, or that Megan Fox’s nose is too pointy after her procedure. They’re happy, and that’s what counts.

At the same time as I don’t discourage it, I don’t actively encourage it either. Most people don’t see the faults that we see in ourselves – there’s nothing wrong with small boobs, wonky teeth, or having a bit of a flabby belly. It makes us who we are, and unless you don’t like it, there’s no need to change it. Don’t fix what ain’t broke – all that.

The point I’m trying to make is that an idea such as cosmetic surgery is ridiculous. Bear in mind that this covers everything from straightening your teeth to liposuction, from facial peels to collagen. Any kind of procedure that alters your appearance, really. I myself went though years of dental work to have the smile that I have now. And personally, I’d like a nose job at some point. The rest of me is fine, but if I ever decided to change something about myself, I shouldn’t be criticised for it. Nobody should. Opinions when it comes to things like this – unless it’s beginning to have a negative effect on the person’s health – should be kept to yourself.

Because it’s really none of anybody’s damn business.

I’m bored, let’s send some hate?

There’s something that bothers me about websites such as twitter, facebook, tumblr, and whatever ever else you might find yourself scrolling through the pages of. What is it that bothers me? It’s the people who send hate to celebrities they’ve never met. Being a law student, I’m well aware that we have certain freedoms in many countries of the world – one of them being freedom of expression, i.e we’re allowed to say what we want. I encourage that freedom, but as with all good things, I feel there’s a limit.

I logged into twitter the other day (follow me at @7R15) and saw at least three people on my timeline sending some kind of hate to celebrities. If I remember correctly, two of the tweets were aimed at Selena Gomez, whilst another was headed towards Miley Cyrus. They weren’t pleasant, and I won’t repeat them – but you can probably use your imagination. It just frustrates me when people do this.

Take me, for example. I am not a fan of Justin Bieber’s music. I am not a fan of One Direction’s music. I don’t find Gerard Butler movies funny. But I don’t take that opinion, turn it into a hatred of the person themself, and take to twitter to send them hate messages. Not finding a scene out of The Bounty Hunter doesn’t make me want to send “I f*cking hate you, you piece of sh*t” to Gerard Butler. The annoying Baby, Baby, Baby Oooooh of Justin Bieber’s song doesn’t translate to a “You should die” tweet to JB. And it shouldn’t have to! I’ve never met these people, I don’t know what they’re like. In fact, they seem pretty decent for the best part.

People don’t seem to take this into consideration before sending these hateful messages to people they’ve never met over the internet. Imagine logging into twitter and finding thousands of hateful tweets in your mentions, or turning on your facebook to see your fanpage filled with derogatory things about you. I don’t imagine it’s a particularly nice experience.

And then there are the fangirls. I mean, seriously. I’m not talking about the “Yay! The Jonas Brothers concert is in three days! I’m doing to do nothing else but tweet lyrics from their songs until then!” fangirls. No. I’m talking about the sending-death-threats-to-Selena-Gomez-for-dating-their-favourite-singer fangirls. This needs to stop. Firstly, it doesn’t even make sense – okay, so you’ve “in love” with Justin Bieber. Why then would you want to try and jeopardize his perfectly happy relationship with the girl he wants to be with? That doesn’t make any sense to me at all. Just because you try and get them to break up (good luck with that, by the way – your tweet will have no effect) doesn’t mean that he’ll automatically come running to you, to cry on your shoulder. You’ve never met him. You probably never will. So get a grip.

Celebrities are – for the best part – there to make people happy. Sure, some of them are clinging with their fingertips with all they have to the platform they once stood on, and you just wish they’d give up and go away (ahem, Katie Price) – but their acting, or their singing… it makes people happy. Maybe not you, but others. And trying to put down somebody just for doing what they love to do and living the dream they’ve always wanted is ridiculous. Think about how it would effect you, if every day hundreds of people sent you messages of hate, just for doing what you enjoy.

If you like them, fine. By all means let them know. And if you don’t – well, my mum had a saying whilst I was growing up: if you don’t have anything nice to say, then don’t say anything at all.