Monday, May 31, 2010


can’t say out loud.

I think that by hearing from you every now and again, that that means there’s some chance, you know? You don’t know. You think I’m a fool. I am a fool. I only ever semi-function and I take my tablets sporadically. I feel sporadically and I never ever know what I want. But you would make me happy. Every inch of your fucked-up self. Your fucked-up self would fit perfectly with my fucked-up self. Our lunacy would combine beautifully. I would make you happy. I want to, you know? I want you.  And I get so mad at you sometimes. I get angry at you for not being here, not wanting what I want. But when I see you, I’m drawn to you. Maybe that’s the truly foolish part. My foolish brain thinks you feel the same way about me, even when the evidence suggests the complete opposite. I suppose that’s hope or faith or something. But you did. Once. For a minute. Maybe longer than that. Maybe you still do. I haven’t changed. You have. But more and more you are the person I want. You may think I am hasty and silly and desperate and you’d be right, obviously: I am hasty and silly but I’m hoping you find that sort of thing endearing. Am I desperate? Some people love desperately. And I’m not desperate for a kiss or a person, and I’m not desperate for you even. But I want you in my life. I wonder how many good deeds I’d have to do for the stars to align and a little miracle to occur.
And, yes, this is about you.

no more dreaming like a girl so in love.

Part of me wishes that your little remark was about me. But that would be hypocrisy that I just couldn’t understand. In my mind, it was about me (since, y’know, the world revolves around me) and it bothers (a tiny part of) me. I want to be on your mind, obviously. But I can’t say anything. I don’t. Because there is nothing to say.

Made changes to the CAO again. Considering UCC. Again.

If people were rain, I was drizzle and she was a hurricane.

Thursday, May 27, 2010

last day of school evaaaa 2kai10 baii.

Today was (officially speaking) our last day of school ever. It was pretty amazing. Fancy Dress Extreme Dodgeball, us against the teachers.

Here are some shots, most of which I have plundered from Facebook:

Me as a ladybird (I had wings as well) and my best friend the hippy hillbilly. With a unibrow.

Team A/ Team Asexual/ Team Asshole/ The A Team.

The teachers.

In battle mode.

John & Edward.

Double the double trouble. Two Johns, two Edwards.

The 11850 fellas. Brilliant. :’)

Tomorrow will be lovely. Graduation mass, Chinese, pub and disco. Pimp & Ho Night, anyone? Cannot wait.

Strange to think about finishing school. End of an era. I’ll post something more eloquent when it actually hits me. I really will miss that hellhole. x

Monday, May 24, 2010

i think i made you up inside my mind.

My life at this moment in time:

Symbol, glitter, coffee, sharing art notes, Bourbon biscuits, photographs, condolences, thankyou cards, shoes, sleep, dinner, ice-cream, driving with you, being utterly confused, jealousy, exams, not doing homework, thinking too much, falling asleep in German, your blasé tone, dental floss, hoovering, clean bed sheets, freshly painted nails, Bat For Lashes, plotting, Mummy Dearest, dreaming about you every night without fail, wanting to fall in love.

Ya know the way ya have your friends? And the way that ya met most of them by accident, a fluke? Some twist of fate and BANG! There they were in your life. That’s amazing and, well, beautiful.

Friday, May 21, 2010


‘However vast the darkness, we must supply our own light.’

‘It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things.’

I’ve always been preoccupied with the idea of death. It’s a strange end. You spend such a long time living and struggling and trying so hard to make the whole thing worthwhile and then it just ends. Suddenly. You cease to exist. No more breathing. No more blood pumping through your veins. Your heart has stopped beating. You are cold and waxen and unmoving. And you lie in that coffin and you look like you’re going to wake up unless we whisper. So we do. We whisper prayers and hope that God will look after you. We have to believe that someone is there waiting for you. We took care of you here and we need to know that someone is going to look after you on the Other Side.

You’re gone. You’re not here. You’re not in a hospital, in pain, suffering, but still alive. You are gone. And you were so beautiful.

On your wedding day you looked like a movie star. You and him, both of you looked so happy and alive. Your feet in the sea and his trousers rolled up to avoid the wetness. You were smiling. This was the start of your life. You were in love and it was just beginning for you. You had no babies yet. But you would have babies. Six gorgeous children. And one little baby who wasn’t meant to be on this earth.

I hope that in Heaven, you meet him and your husband. I hope Heaven is you and your husband taking care of that little baby who knew no time on earth. You are happy there and you wait patiently for your other children and grandchildren to join you.

I hope you had a good life. You will be missed.

Thursday, May 20, 2010


I feel like this:

I want someone here now.
I want to revert back to childhood:
I want to cry and have someone here
to wrap their arms around me
and let all my anxiety flow out of me in the saltwater of my eyes.
I want to be so far from here.
Somewhere else, somewhere with my friends.
Quiet. Loving.
Comfortable and soft and unimposing.
No one shaking my hand
for a grief that doesn’t feel like it ought to be mine.
Someone, be here now.

Funny how in a world so full of people, you can feel so very fucking lonely and alone and isolated and invisible. I should be used to this feeling. But I’m not. I want someone here. Human contact. That’s one thing I truly dislike about being single – less human contact. I don’t mean in a sexual way, I mean a hug, a caress. You don’t get enough in this life. Your friends are good. My friends are wonderful. But boyfriends are affectionate by definition. And I miss that. But I would take affection from anyone now. Not brief embraces but lengthy, emotional hugs. I want to fall asleep in someone’s arms. Anyone’s arms. I want to feel safe and loved. I know I’m safe in my house with the doors and windows locked and I know my family and friends love me, but I really want to feel it. Human contact. I miss it so much.

Someone, be here now.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

cupcake cures depression.

Woke up today feeling decidedly awful. My illness is gone but in its place? Something like insomnia. Okay so that’s obviously an exaggeration, but I was yawning like a loon on loon tablets at half eight last night and was wrapped up and unconscious in bed before nine. I was wide awake at half eleven and did the usual diagnosis on myself – am I hungry? Do I need to pee? Had some cornflakes, went to the bathroom, tried to return to the Land of Nod. No go. Watched Des Bishop and Russell Howard. Nothing. Read a book. Lay in the dark, doing nothing, then concentrating on my breathing, then trying to concentrate on nothing. Still I couldn’t sleep. It must have been four in the morning when I eventually nodded off.

This morning when I woke up at seven (a mere three hours after falling asleep) my body was experiencing those funny aches which roughly translate to, ‘Emma, what are you attempting to do? Get up? I don’t think so. Sshhh, back to bed, it’s okay, ssshhh…’ Very soothing. Can’t move. School? No, thankyou. Shur we only have double PE and I wouldn’t be doing that anyway. And a half day. What is the point? Sleep? Oh yes please.

So I went back to sleep. Lovely. When I did finally decide to start my day with a boiled egg and toast and tea, I was in an awful mood. Boredom. Restlessness. A slight depression.

 Cupcake Cures Depression

Decided to make some fairy cakes. They turned out quite well, albeit a bit sweet. I shall use less sugar next time. Here is a picture of my lovely cupcakes:

There were lots more but we ate them before I remembered to take a photo. One had a love heart, one had ‘Tommy’ and a star, one had ‘Mam’ and a love heart (‘cause I love my mammy) and there were a few more pink ones too. The ones pictured don’t look too hectic but they’re not bad for my first attempt ever at baking, right? Previously, my piece de resistance had been Rice Krispy buns. This is definitely a step up. If not a staircase up. They taste lovely but are very filling. Nom nom vanilla. I have a few left over and I’m going to bring them in to those sexy friends of mine in school, as it has been so very long since I’ve actually been in school.

I feel good. (:

Monday, May 17, 2010

privacy, drip, thinking, planning.

I’ve started a private blog but I don’t know how committed I am to it. It’s nice to have somewhere to say all the things that I am only dying to say here. Private things. Specific things. About specific boys. And girls actually. And being emo. Things like that. I don’t know how successful the private blog will be, considering how much I adore this blog and my loyal worshippers(!). But it’s a distraction. Fear not though – I’ll still post here as religiously as I have been doing.

So I’ve ‘deep conditioned’ my hair, as I am home from school and feeling quite a bit better. I had one of those ‘Saturday Showers’, no-stone-left-unturned kind of clean. And I put enough conditioner in my hair to sink a ship and then I covered it in cling film. In forty minutes’ time, I’m going to wash out the conditioner and have lovely, luscious locks. Hopefully. These broken/ split ends are really beginning to get to me. Ugg.

I’ve been thinking lately about what I have that other people don’t have. Y’know, what makes me special or unique or whatever. I came up with the fact that I have a blog and a self-deprecating sense of humour, but it’s just dawned on me that that doesn’t set me apart from anyone else in the slightest. Everyone has a blog and most people are so insecure that they are compelled to take the piss out of themselves. So I’m one of thousands. Millions, probably. Oh well.

I’ve also been trying to come up with projects to occupy me for the summer (or for life, I don’t know). I’m a firm believer that the secret to happiness is keeping busy. The Devil makes work for idle hands and all that. Anyway, so far I’ve come up with:

1. Losing the gut.
2. Purchasing some of those ‘Hello My Name Is’ stickers and doing something hilarious with them.
3. Fairy cakes.

That’s all I have so far. Well, I have lots more really but they all invariably involve monies that I simply do not have. Or will have any time in the near future.

My hair still has water trapped in it and it’s running down my neck. It was okay before but now the water’s gone cold so it’s highly uncomfortable. Lovely. I am a drip of a girl. Literally.

I would quite like to go to college. I hope I don’t fail this LC thing. I should study. I am going to learn chemistry now.

Also, I’m wearing shorts. I don’t know why, since I don’t plan on going outside, but my mother told me it was eighteen degrees out so I thought I’d make some sort of effort. To be quite honest, I’m feeling cold ‘cause of my dripping head and I’m not far off getting into my jammies. Roll on summer, boi.

Oh, also, here’s some things that are floating my boat lately:

1. Coffee.
2. Georgia Nicolson.
3. Copious amounts of water.
4. Rainbow eyeshadow.
5. My lovely, milky, veiny Irish legs.
6. Katy Perry.
7. Family.
8. RHJ.
9. Having a few bob.
10. Redox titrations.

The End. (:

Saturday, May 15, 2010

oh oh oh.

Can’t you see that we’d be lovely? At least for a while. For the summer. It would be quite nice. I know I’m not the prettiest person in the world, not even the most average, but we have a laugh, don’t we? See sense.
You want the same things I want – sunshine and alcohol and vulgarity. Nothing else. Nothing more. Just fun. Maybe you do. I think you do. But I’m not often correct when it comes to these things. And I’d give anything to say this to you but I feel like I’d be wasting my time. Embarrassing myself, really. You have plenty of other options, after all. Even if you don’t realise it yet.
Give me a sign, please. A yes or a no. A maybe. A kiss.
And if you’re reading this, you know who you are.

and you were looking at me, smiling.

Currently, I’m in my room. I love this evening light. I’m drinking water because fluids are meant to be extra good for you when you’re ill, aren’t they? Maybe I made that up. Well, they’re good for ya anyway, I suppose. But yeah. Slurp slurp.

I am ill. Wake-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night-not-being-able-to-breathe-through-your-nose kind of ill. The worst kind of ill, in other words. Nurofen Cold & Flu tablets work wonders for me though and while I’m bunged up and miserably and weak, I am well on the way to recovery. I think. I hope.

Despite my poor health, I washed all the windows today. Mummy Dearest fell the other day and hurt her arm. She’s pretty much incapacitated for the next while so I’m doing good deeds by washing the windows and cleaning up the kitchen and doing messages and other such generous things. I also made her a sling for her poor handy. First Aid in TY was not a complete waste of time.

Mummy said, ‘God’ll reward ya’. He’d wanta. I have led a difficult and trying life thus far. And I have been very good lately. Apart from being emo and texting someone something I really oughtn’t have texted them. And  generally being a bit of a wet. Other than that though, I have been almost saintly in my demeanour. And I’ve been eating lots of fruit.

One of my nails broke the other day. Granted, it was helped along by some absent-minded chewing on my part but still. It is now the midget of its ten digit family. A lonely and lowly existence.

I got a necklace the other day, which was pretty exciting. I had a €10 voucher for New Look left over from my birthday. I never really get the chance to go to New Look but since we were around the other day, I decided to pop in and have a nosey. Here is a poor quality picture of the quite lovely necklace:

I like the pastel pinks and the floral bits. (:

Also in my life:

Graduation is fast approaching. I am excited. I cannot wait to buy a new dress and go to the Chinese (with about seventy or eighty other Sixth Years and a few teachers) and then the pub and the disco. I don’t even like the disco but I will go that night. For the howl. And because it’s Pimp and Ho Night. I’m strongly considering investing in a faux fur coat and a few photocopied dollar bills to place inside my bitches’ underwear.

My new shoes should be arriving soon (hopefully?). Cream coloured brogues. They look like white chocolate. Pretty thrilled about them, to be honest. Though I’ll be indebted to Amy for weeks since she buys me stuff I want off Ebay with her account. What a good girl.

Speaking of good girls, hello to the gorgeous Kate H who I sit beside in Irish and who rather bizarrely and randomly stumbled across my blog last week and was prevented from studying for at least an hour due to being engrossed in its gripping and topical content. Apparently, I’m ‘deep’.

New project: Operation Farewell Fat Emma. Serious exercise and no more sweeties. Even though I don’t think I eat that much junk. I do like my dinner and the odd bar of chocolate, but mostly I like fruit and that. Of course, I am a lazy bitch and don’t move more than a few metres in a day when left to my own devices. So that would explain the fat bum etc.  Having said that, I’m not weird about my body. I don’t think about it all day long and dwelly on my belly. I’m pretty happy with my body – make the best of what you’ve been given, innit? – but the paunch does draw my attention when I’m standing in front of the mirror. The Sixth Year Stone, isn’t it? Oh well. Salads and walks. Personally, I swear by that combination.

Thus ends my massive update on the still very exciting – almost too exciting – life of Emma Norris. Hope you kids are well. x

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

like the sun has stopped shining.

This having no distractions and being at one with my thoughts and utter loneliness thing is getting old. I’ll take that distraction now, thanks. But no one’s offering. Which is sort of hilarious in itself. You know, if I was in a laughing-at-my-own-misfortune kind of mood. Which I’m not. Feeling pretty sorry for myself actually. The one thing I want, I can’t have. Actually, all other options have vanished too (thanks to yours truly). I have to sit pretty, don’t I? Well, not pretty but, you know, averagely… Or at least quietly.

Also, I have an art exam tomorrow which I shall fail pretty epically, it has to be said. Granted, I have done more preparation for this than what I did for the Design paper but that really isn’t saying much. I’m plotting a decent night’s sleep and hoping that’ll do something for my artistic ability.

I studied today. I know. Bizarre. Every single titration that could come up in June. My money’s on bleach. It hasn’t been on the paper in years. Not since 2002 and that was donkey’s years ago. NaClO FTW. Phenolphthalein. Ooh baby.

That thing I had to write for Ms Jones about going to see Die Fälscher? She rewrote the whole thing and still stuck my name on it. She’s lucky the inspector(s) (who was/ were in school all last week) didn’t query me about it ‘cause I swear I would have hung her. Teachers lying! Has it really come to this?

Pretty resigned to the fact that I’ll be repeating. Which is horrible. Because I can’t wait to get out of this black hole of a town. It’s vomit-inducing, it really is. Maybe I’ll get an A in chemistry and that will make up for my lack of cop on in any/ every other subject? Ha. What a joke.

Limerick, please. Think I might change the CAO again, to include courses with minimal points. Suggestions?

Sunday, May 09, 2010

these violent delights have violent ends.

Today I worked. And sweat. And considered how I was going to get out of this labyrinth. And, frankly, I don’t know. I can’t see a way out. I think, ‘When I have those shoes, I will be happy.’ But will I really? Probably not.

I am willing to do anything for you, for this. But I think it’s futile. And I wish I could stop, stop waiting for something that will never appear. Though I would rather waste my emotions on you anonymously than hurt someone else by pretending that I loved them. This is safer. Maybe not for me, but for everyone else.

And we were both born under a bad sign, I think. And I think it makes us special. So I’m working that angle. Poets, artists, star-crossed lovers. I sleep better at night when I think of us as something other-worldly, rather than ordinary people who happened to lock lips once or twice. This is important. I think that we are important.

Friday, May 07, 2010

life is better blonde?

I’ve seen both sides of the spectrum. Blonde is lovely, it really is. Blonde suits me, apparently. Blonde is wonderful. I don’t think I’m alone in this: being blonde made me feel more confident. I stood out from my brown-haired friends. I felt unique.

(And, yes, obviously I messed around with the brightness on that photo. My lips looked sore. And my skin was awfully red. Unfortunately, I am not that luminous in real life.)

Let’s make no bones about it, blonde wreaks havoc on your hair. You’re essentially covering it in bleach and that’s just not healthy. And I must be the driest person in the world because I know lots of other people don’t suffer half as much as I do with their platinum locks. But my skin is usually dry and I swear, no matter what I did to my blonde mane, it too was as dry as the Sahara and as cottony as … cotton fields. The amount of conditioner I went through! And having recently got a whole heap of my hair chopped off, you can imagine my dismay at finding broken and split ends already!

Desperate times call for desperate measures. I am now a brunette. Again. My hair hasn’t been this colour in two and a half years. This is exciting. A nice change. A very nice change actually. Not saying that my hair is nice – just that sporting a different look is nice. Here’s hoping I’ve seen the last of perpetual split ends and dried out hair. Tricia, I love you.

(And that’s quite obviously over-exposed too since I was wearing no make-up and looked like a tomato with hair. I like Pale Emma better. I shall post a better picture when I’m , like, done up or whatever.)

Wednesday, May 05, 2010


Little changes everywhere. New hair (soon). New ambitions. Saying goodbye to old memorabilia. New, empty space. New environment. Giving away old books. Returning borrowed ones. Ditching sentimentality. Changes to the CAO form. Seeing my stalkers again. Talking to you and having you remind me that you are still there to listen. That is a change I thought I’d never see. Have we come full circle? I need you more than ever. But I can’t do that to you, I can’t need you. It isn’t fair. Will this ever change?


What’s Currently on my CAO Application:
Journalism and New Media.
New Media and English.
English and History.
Arts (German & Sociology).
Legal Studies.

I pretty much have no interest whatsoever in studying History or English, considering they are my worst subjects in school. Baffling, I know, but whatever. They just don’t interest me. I want Journalism. I really do. But it’s not looking good. I’m a waster. And I’ll more than likely end up repeating. This fact doesn’t bother me in the slightest though. It does mean that I’ll be twenty starting college but I’m short so I don’t think it’ll have too much of an impact. If I end up in WIT, what harm? College is college is college. I want a car…

Tuesday, May 04, 2010

i’m bored on a sinking ship.

This feels like the story of my life lately. I don’t mean to revert to Miserable Blogging again but this hurts. And tomorrow will not be better than today and today is not better than yesterday. My farts still stink and my heart is still bruised. Someone please tell me why this isn’t getting easier. Please.

It’s a certain type of hopelessness and I’ve gotten so good at ignoring it when I’m with people. Like relaying my embarrassing life to my best friend and laughing and being self-deprecating and hilarious. But when you go home, it’s just me and this perpetual embarrassment, perpetual emptiness. And I do believe that the key to happiness is keeping busy and I’ve been filling empty time with creative things (rather than studying, obviously). But the days are only getting longer and the nights are only getting longer.

Not consuming alcohol ever again seems like a tempting new project to get wrapped up in. I will save money and, more importantly, dignity. Though what’s left of that is pretty negligible, after Sunday night anyway. I don’t think I’ve ever been more embarrassed ever. And that’s saying something, since I trip over thin air on a daily basis and find even chewing difficult some days. I am a mess. But I surpassed myself Sunday night, I really did. Thanks very much but I’ve had quite enough of that for one lifetime; I’m full.

I won’t ever get over this, will I? No.

I feel like a broken record. I wish I could turn this off. But I’m scared that if I do turn it off (again) that I’ll only be lying to myself and that when the curtain drops like it inevitably will, it'll be all the worse for having been hidden in the dark. It’ll return with angry vengeance. This stinks.

I am constantly trying to replace you. This will never work, mainly because people like you are dickheads and invariably hate me, and, let’s face it, it’s a little bit desperate on my part. More than a little bit really. It’s pathetic. It’s not going to work. But I have no idea what to do instead, I really don’t.

I hope we do move house. I would like a new place to lay my head, free of all the shitty memories I’ve created here. Cider spilled on the floor and sneaking out the window. I’m a mess. I’m a mess. I’m a mess. I’m a mess.

Popcorn, Minstrels, purple and Breaking Dawn. Plan? Plan. x

Monday, May 03, 2010


That ‘please be mine’ shit is a bit irritating. Ya know those pretty pictures with words on them? I like them. Love them. I like being able to relate to them, and I stretch their meanings sometimes so that they fit with my life. But ‘please be mine’? That just turns my stomach. And I don’t really know why.

Perhaps I should not get so drunk. But I live for telling hangover stories to my best friend, relaying the details of the previous nights misdemeanours. It makes her laugh and it makes me feel a bit better about my odd behaviour. Though why I decided to lie on the ground on the bridge is something I’ll never understand. Or get over. I am a weird person.

Watched Garden State again. It makes me happy.

Why do I even want this? I don’t. Although, you are the perfect kind of dickhead. And I do like dickheads. And I don’t know what I want. I have an awfully vivid imagination. A wild imagination. A seriously detailed imagination actually. My whole summer is mapped out in my head and I kind of like it. I see green and cycling and fairy cakes. Join me, innit. In it.

Art exam in the morning. Bit of a cop out. I literally did nothing all weekend. Don’t worry though, the Gods will punish me. Or maybe my lack of preparation will punish me. Or kill me. I don’t know. Basically, I’m fucked.

Off to do some scribbling. x

Sunday, May 02, 2010

i’d dance like the king of the eyesores.

All God does is watch us and kill us when we get boring. We must never, ever be boring.


The knowledge of video games
and the way your hair felt between my fingers.
And the banter.
And way you looked when you slept,
how vulnerable you were.
And the way you kissed me
when you weren’t allowed to.
How your voice sounded
when it pleaded with me.
The way you tasted when you’d been drinking.