Letters to Anne

Parting is such sweet sorrow.

What does that mean?

Where does the logic behind it lie?

If such sweet sorrow is in parting why dare part all?

For is not the binding of such a sweet heart strong enough to overrule?

Nothing comes from the lack of compassion you with held.

Beastly thunder and yet alas my heart is cold.

With every breath you hinder an icy frost that covers the glass of the window.

Large mists of cloudy dust gather in the distance.

Though the heart of magic is dead it lies within a fiery fortress of enchanted meadows.

Galloons of verdure stretch upon the barren landscape.

Scattered across with vibrant blue bells that sing in their sway no more.

Only when your footsteps walk, up along the sandy banks of Whitsure.

Only then do the blue bells sing to the chords of your spirit.

Cannot one being be entirely devoted or shall not one lose his course?

Through a blossoming white shower of petals of rose there you are to wipe away the shadows.

If thou are not hopeless without you, thou is not even there.

For you make my heart sing in a chorus of enlightenment.

Mistaken are you if you think your frosty footsteps blacken my view of your facade.

It remains hardly unnoticeable to witness such a beauty.

You sear your name upon my heart.

And if it be so I shall think of you, when all the flowers on Whitsure banks bloom.

The Opera of Carmen

29th May 2010
Carmen
Dear Bloggers,

I know some of you may not find this of particular interest at all (maybe you will if you ever consider going to see this opera) but it was last Sunday that me, my two cousins and my aunt went to the 02 to see the very sassy and extrovert opera of Carmen. A story of a young gypsy girl who bewitches the heart of two soldiers and a sexy bull fighter. She causes death, murder and an extreme jealousy which, in end, only ended up to her own misfortune, if you get what I’m saying.

It was not at all planned, my opinion of the opera was that it was quite a mundane form of entertainment and I, personally, always found it extremely difficult to make out what the actors were saying, even if they were singing in English, which they were when I went there, if you were wondering. Anyway my cousins called me up asked if I wanted to go. Considering for the whole weekend the only likely thing I’d be obliged to do was to sit at home and sleep I was enthralled at the prospect of going to the opera. I had one hour, got changed, hurried out of the house and went to meet up with my cousins where we set off.

I’m not acquainted much with the tube on a day to day basis, like many Londoners are, and so I found it really rather unbearable. I could smell the sweat of the nearest stranger next to me, his face as red as a sun dried tomato. If I even moved my arm an inch I would prod the lady in front of me. I accidently did this when I tried to stretch my arms (a bad idea) and the lady and her posy turned to look at me suddenly with such disgust that I could be a worthless rat and they wouldn’t look at me any different.


I expected the 02 to be much bigger than it was, but I was still impressed by the vast majority of swanky restaurants and overpriced champagne (not that I got a taste or anything!) it had acquired. We had originally arrived to find our seats were way up top, which was a scary climb with those high stone steps. I tell you one tumble and you could fall fifty feet down! Some people say the sheer height made them nauseous. Just before the whole SHEBANG started we managed to go to the customer help centre and relocate our seats.

Afterwards we found our seats were much better, by far closer to the stage. However even sitting at the distance we were it was still pretty hard to make out the faces of the actors. Not to mention we sat behind the actors so they had their backs turned pretty much throughout the entire performance. It was a little ridiculous if you ask me, the actors stayed in the same direction and on the same tiny piece of the stage all the way through the play! It was impossible for some people to even see! It was like only a slelect bunch of people had the prime seats and everybody else, puting it blunlty, were screwed. I heard some people got so frustrated they walked out.

However I stuck through it and there was a very entertaining carnival scene towards the end. It had all the works, large headdresses, fire breathers and flimsy dancers doing giant back flips across the stage.


After the opera had finished I decided to make my own judgement on Carmen. I mean although I found that the performance was an........interesting experience, I don’t suppose my views on the opera has changed at all. It was difficult to tell who was singing or talking and to be honest I suppose the majority of people only came to see some guy of pop idol play the sexy bull fighter. (Don’t worry he wasn’t that much of a looker!) Although I do suppose he was only performing for one night only.

Later we went to Nandos and had some hot and spicy chicken! Hey and you know in Nandos we saw these women, who we presume went to the opera too, dressed like they were attending a red carpet event. It was strange watching the women in their glamorous attire, straight from the opera that we had also attended, because you took one look at us in our casual day clothes and...........well let’s just say we were put to shame!

After Nandos we went home. My cousins and my aunt were nice enough to come on the bus with me and drop me off home which I was very grateful for.

I’m glad I went to the opera; it’s given me a chance to experience it firsthand. And although there parts that refused to gain my interest and parts that totally confused me I suppose I did enjoy it. I love to take every one of these little chances to experience something as an opportunity to widen my horizons. This way I can make a judgement on the things and they would be fair because I’ve experienced it firsthand. I quite like the idea of someone looking down at me in disgust and asking: “I don’t suppose you’ve ever been to the opera,” and me replying, ever so modestly that is: “Well I have actually, and I thought it was marvellous!”

What's the difference between Fancy and Like?

28th May 2010
Enjoying a person's company without giving the wrong idea?

Dear Bloggers,

I’m planning on this being a brief post but sometimes, when I’m writing, my imagination just overtakes my brain and all I can think to do is document every single thought and feeling I have in that one single moment. And then I find myself written an entire two pages! It’s a strange thing really but some say it makes sense.

Anyhow what I wanted to say was that do you ever get the feeling where you like being around someone but you don’t really like them in such a way that people would think you do? So, for example, you’re a guy and you really like being around this girl, she’s funny, cool and has this weird vibe around her which makes you feel really comfortable and at ease, but you friends keep insinuating that you have some strange sort of fancy for her. Although, as nice as she is, you don’t feel really much of any attraction to her at all. It’s just that little thing about her that makes you feel so warm and, no matter how much you try, you can't get over it or find the feeling anywhere else.

It’s not that you really want to like this girl or anything, It’s just that you can imagine being in her company and feeling at home.

I’m not sure if this feeling is a short term tingle that will evaporate soon enough or something more long term. I suppose it sort of crept up on me. I mean it was always at the back of my mind but I never took much time to acknowledge it.

Okay so, let’s just say this girl, she wasn’t there one day and you didn’t feel like you were getting the entire package. She was just that little thing extra that seemed to make everything just that little more perfect. And it’s only when she wasn’t there do you realise that this strange feeling has been building up and building up until you’re so utterly confused with it that you don’t know what to do!

Well till we meet again
Naffy.

I think I got bitch slapped!

19th May 2010
Bust up and Make ups

Dear Bloggers,

Hey guys, it's me on the loose, and here's this beginning of my online dairy.

So get this right, it's unusual for me ever to get into any fights. I mean I’m always the neutral party, the one who everyone likes. I think that's always been my anxiety, about people liking me. I'm just one of those people who want everyone to like them and are willing to let situations slide in order to prevent them from escalading. But doesn’t that make me a coward? I think that high school has changed me in so many ways. I feel like I’m discovering myself as a whole new person...........and it’s weird.

So during school time me and a big bunch of my friends were mucking around having a little water fight. Okay so we were basically targeting three people, but they seemed to be having a laugh and mucking around with us, getting pretty wet in the process I must admit. So afterwards my friend, who was one of the three to get wet, came up to me and slapped me! Yeah I know, not really giving me any reason apart from saying ‘you wet me.’ And I found it strange she targeted me when I was doing the exact same thing as everyone else and also, I might add, throwing the LEAST amount of water! Plus to me she seemed to be quite content, having a joke around with us while being splashed with water.

So I tried to hit back but this other girl, who also got wet, let’s call her Sofia, ( I didn’t really care much about her as no one really likes her and she’s a bit of a class reject in many respects) held this other friend back, let’s call him John, who was trying to protect me from being slapped. Afterwards things just suddenly died down and my ‘friend’, who hit me, left abruptly, leaving me totally clueless. It was really awkward as well because we had the same class to go to afterwards. Luckily I sat on the far side of the room and we both entered and left at different times.

I was so confused, angry and insulted as this friend, or who I thought was a friend, could do this to me. Now I understood that being violent was sort of her character and she did things like that to all of us, just as a joke of course. What I didn’t get was that one minute she was laughing and the next she was being deadly serious and hitting me! I don’t get people who just suddenly change their moods like that. I mean for a while I was just wondering if she was joking or not!

Okay so I thought about it that night. It was strange for me as I’ve never really been in any sort of fight like this, you know, one to one. I’ve always been a spectator but now I was an actor, with a leading role. Plus it was especially hard for me because I was close mates with this particular friend. So I thought it over and wondered to myself was I just going to let it slide? Am I a bigger wuss then I imagined? I’ve always thought I was strong but previous similar events have lead me to think otherwise. So I thought to myself, this time, no. I don’t want to be that person who gets insulted and just shys away.

The next day I asked my other friend; let’s call her Shannon so we don’t get confused with all these ‘friends!’ Well I asked her to talk to the friend who hit me, because Shannon was in her first class of the day. Afterwards Shannon came back to me and told me everything she had said. I was told of how this friend was pissed because she thought I carried on throwing water at her and blah, blah. Obviously this was a lie as I did not carry on throwing water, unlike some others, and I had proof from several other witnesses who kindly reminded that I threw the least water and was almost the first to stop!

I was so frustrated and decided to talk to her in my English class the next day. That night I wondered what she would say and how I would it. To be truthful, as annoyed as was, I didn’t like being in a fight with her because she’s a really good friend who I talk to all the time. However I wasn’t going to stop that from me being assertive and confident for once in my life. I don’t want to be that person anymore who cowards anyway at any mention of anything awkward or violent.

It took some courage but I asked to talk to this friend outside with a couple mates around. I asked why, why I found it frustrating and how I perceived the situation. I told her I didn’t want to talk through Shannon and I wanted a conversation face to face (I would never have dreamed to do this in year seven! Or seventh grade, whatever when I was eleven. ) And she told me she was angry that day cause of other stuff and............well it’s hard to recall everything; all I really wanted was an honest apology. Once I heard the word sorry and an explanation I felt a great sense of achievement. She told me she didn’t like being in a fight with me and I told her the feeling with mutual. I suppose it’ll take a while for our friendship to heal but in time it will, but I don’t suppose it’ll ever really be totally the same again.

I guess that’s what fights do. They make you understand each other more. And that’s why I think fighting is a good thing as it shows you how people react and, most importantly, how people resolve the situation. I mean a guy can knock down your building blocks but it’s up to you how you rebuild them. Sometimes they’re not quite as perfect as before but sometimes, just sometimes, they’re better.

I learnt something through this experience (my first proper fight) and that’s that I’ve changed. By god I’ll tell you one thing it hasn’t come naturally! I’ve changed because I want to be a stronger person. To be a stronger person you need courage to tackle problems head on and you can’t always be afraid of what people think of you. You can’t let people walk all over you and live your life in fear. Be strong, learn from life and don’t you dare let anyone put you down.



Figuring myself out still
Naffy.

Indie Girl

NOTE: PART OF THE FICTIONAL TALES SEASON BY NAFFY




Like any teenager I'm trying, trying so hard. But it seems my hardest just isn't good enough! I mean what does it take to get noticed? At school it's like I have to try so hard just to fit it in. I mean for all these other girls it just seems so easy. I mean how is that fair? I've changed you see, i really i have. I've grown up and become this mature young woman and yet I still feel the same age as a toddler. Nobody treats me with respect and nobody, not one single living soul even knows who i really am, who i really want to be. That person, confident, extravagant, cool and witty is just waiting to burst out of me. I just need someone to give me a chance.
My name is Nancy Stewart. I live with my Dad in south London. My parents recently split, you know what it's like. To be honest it's sort of a relief they split, my ears can finally get a rest from all the constant shouting. But, like all separations it was hard, especially for my younger brother who's only 8 right now. Although my younger brother is a right pain in the ass. Sometimes i wish he'd just disappear and leave me alone! Nevertheless i suppose i do love him really and i'd always wish him back.....eventually.




My mum lives with her boyfriend in Malta, a hot Mediterranean country near Africa. She lives it up in a grand hotel in the middle of nowhere. Hmm perfect destination for i dunno.....RAPE! Mum can be so stupid. She moves anywhere her boyfriends go. Last time she went to Russia and she ended up on some secret government plan to bring back Mussolini from the dead! I mean give us a break please.
I have an older sister too you know, she's living in Canada right now, studying photography. Yeah i know! Who knew you had to go to Canada to study photography? To be truly honest i think she's just gone there to be a Canadian porn star....well it's the the truth (as despicable as it may seem.) I've seen her, she can't wait to take off her top when we go down the the beach, even though temperatures can reach up to minus five degrees.

I have a few good friends, who are all secret bitches of whom all i hate. Well i don't hate them but there are certain aspects, shall we say, that i really can't embrace. Take Emma for example.
Sometimes she can be the most loveliest, nicest person you've ever meet but as soon as the cameras are turned she turns into some super freak bitch. I can't talk to her properly. It's almost like she can take the mick out of me and have a laugh but if i even say a word about her I'm suddenly no.1 syco slut in the world? Come is that a real friendship? If anyone does read this than i guarantee at least one person will have a friend like Emma. I mean it's not even a friendship, let's face it, it's just pretend.

Then we come to Jane, plain Jane yes. Sometimes i wish she'd make just a little more effort with her face but i don't suppose she wants to. It's a shame really as she's very pretty underneath those greasy locks of spangly hair. Sometimes when she gets several spots on her face she comes to hug me and as her face brushes against mine sometimes i can feel the lumps against my skin and it just makes me cringe with disgust. I mean haven't you heard of anti bacterial cream? I know it's a real problem, epically with teenage girls, but with the modern medicine we have all it takes is £6.99 to get rid of a bad spot problem. I've asked several times if i can give Jane a makeover but she says to me:
"I like the way i am Nancy." And then she shys away back to her maths homework.
"But come on! I mean you're the one who wants to get a date to the prom!"
"Yeah and i don't see how changing my appearance will help."
"All we need to do is slap on some makeup and tie back your hair and ta da!"
"I like the way i am Nancy," Jane says getting up. "And if I'm going to get a date to the prom then I'll get a date just for being myself." As inspirational this ideolgy may sound it's unfortunately not quite the cause. High school is a brutal place and no one judges you on the content of your character these days. Everybody's so self obsessed. It's all oozing out of the glamorous L.A and we can't hide from reality, even with our fantasies. It's just the way the world goes round.
I have a real crush on my art teacher, Mr Lacrosse, he's so amazing.
All the girls love him and he's not that much older than me you know, 23 is not far off from 16. Yes my age has finally been revealed! I'm a confused 16 year old girl trying to figure out what to do with my life! I have so many choices but personally to me it feel likes i haven't any at all. I keep switching from plumber to doctor to artist to writer! What should i be? It seems everyone has their life plan sorted out, from their first job to their pension! I've barley been looking up colleges! What am i to do with myself eh? What am i to do?

Anyway, moving on, as you may now i live in South London, in a small terraced house with dodgy electrics and a thriving atmosphere of ghosts! My Granddad lives with us too. The old building used to be his house until we sort of let it go. Granddad couldn't afford the building you see and so he sold it to Dad. When we initially moved in, like most people, we had a dream about redoing it and planting all these beautiful rosebuds in the front garden and all that stuff. But it, like most dreams, perished like the rosebuds in the front garden. I still love our house, I've lived in it ever since i was five after all. Before the house it was just me and Dad. My sister lived with my mum at the time who was 'studying' art in Yorkshire. And we, me and Dad that is, used to live in this small studio flat in Hackney. I remember it was horrible. I used to curl up next to Dad in fear each night as the angry mobs of drunken yobs screamed and threw bricks through the already broken windows, leaving shards of dangerous glass scattered across the bare wooden floorboards. Compared to then the old terrace doesn't seem half that bad!


I have to tell you i have a passion for music, especially hot boy bands! My English teacher's son, who comes around the school sometimes, is a real heartthrob and he's in a Rock n Roll band called the Dark Kiss! I'm sorry but between him and Mr Lacrosse, Johnny, that's his name, wins all the way. Plus he's only eighteen which is practically the perfect age for me!





Okay so you may call it a petty crush but i know one day he's going to pull me up onto the stage and give me a big smooch! Until the day comes I'll see you later! (Sigh!)

EDITOR’S NOTE

People often mistake fashion and it’s powers as a menial thing with little talent required of it. Many think those people who contribute in nurturing fashion and promoting it are entirely selfish. Numerous numbers of people, or some of whom I have heard, say fashion is the monster that wishes to rid the natural beauty of every human being in the world. However I am delightfully inclined to announce that these such people live in small secluded areas where there is no such thing as a supermarket and foraging for food is necessary. Unfortunately I must reminded such people that for persons who prefer to bath themselves and take pride in their appearance, fashion is what makes them human. In addition to this I believe that these people contradict themselves hugely because the stone age look went out only last season.

I prefer to take a much more intelligible perspective. Although fashion accounts for clothing, makeup and other areas centred around improving the image of oneself, it also is a beneficial factor in the world economy. For instance how do developing countries get out of their rut hole and into the modern civilisation where there is equality for everyone? Through factories of course, and although understandably it is a diverse issue it does ultimately improve the economic climate. Nevertheless it is a very sensitive matter with two valid arguments, but I do believe that fashion helps and improves an economy greatly.

I’ve known in the past of such people who take fashion as their salvation. One such person who would buy several copies of a magazine weekly and carefully analyze each pointer, fact and opinion it gave until the small words became a blur. For these such people fashion is not just what they use to detirmen their attire for the day but that little thing that keeps them alive, something that they can retreat to in a way that saves themselves from slowly disappearing into a dark grey area of mist and loneliness.

The world is full of grey areas, some even darker than the next and a few which are pitch black. Fashion, for some people, is the only light they can find that allows them to keep faith and to keep hoping, maybe to help realise and embrace what they already have. It’s not just about the cloths and as people say all those such ‘primitive’ things, but a way to help people discover themselves and show them something better, something brighter.

To me I believe that everything has a meaning, every person has a history and every unimaginable unanimous object has a purpose, even if it be something totally absurd. Perhaps fashion isn’t everyone’s way of dealing with imperfections with themselves or their lives but, according to the number of people who buy magazines weekly and examine each and every morsel of information they pass on, it is to a lot of people.

New in Town

Dear Bloggers, I would like to formally introduce myself as Naffy, short for Nafiza. I'm an aspiring inspiration and recently I've become just the slightest bit obsessed. I'd really like to own my own magazine one day and so I've decided to give the whole idea a try on this blog. I'll be writing a little about funky fashion, Celebrity Chaos and amazing stories! So if you're interested in Love, Life, Hate and Fashion have a look at the up and coming posts! So please check me out I'll be posting picture too so I hope you'll enjoy.