“It’s not just pain and discomfort that a sports bra prevents. A sports bra can also help reduce damage to the breasts. Exercise can put a lot of strain on them: if this is prolonged, the ligaments that keep the breasts in place can be damaged and eventually cause them to sag. Whilst such results are significantly more pronounced in the larger-busted woman, women on the other end of the scale are not immune either!” ~ Karolina
You have been a huge part of my life for the past four years. First as my friend, then my boyfriend and now my Fiancé. We have come a long way, but I place the blame on you. Because of you I hate sleeping alone, my mornings are a little worse if I don’t get to stroke your beard and I don’t want to dance with anyone else. I know we’re young, but I know what I want and I won’t settle for anyone else but you. You complete me. You give me strength when I feel like I can’t go on and I can’t help but smile around you. Cormac my dear, it’s only once that you meet the love of your life. I met mine in matrices and vectors. I want to tell you that I love you in such a way that there’s no doubt in your mind or anyone elses. You are the one for me. You are a kind, intelligent man, you stand up for what you believe is right and your principles are very important to you. I have a lot of respect for that. You are also a caring, compassionate person. You took a puppy home in your jacket and she is one of the happiest dogs I’ve ever met. You look after me. You care about people and while not everyone can see it, I know you do. Not to mention you are gorgeous. Cormac, I am honoured and privileged to have you in my ife. I honestly don’t know what you see in me. I am so lucky to have found you and I can’t get over the fact that you agreed to marry me. Not only am I enjoying the here and now, but I love forward to our future with excitement and anticipation. I love you with all my heart.
Today my head hurts and my stomach is rebelling against all my best intentions. It’s my birthday today and I went out last night, Cormac, Orla, Mies, Clancy and Eoin. I drank a little and got to the hyper stage of drunk very quickly.
We danced, I got a pretty French girl to dance with Eoin, who is painfully shy around women. Orla and Clancy proved yet again how fucking cute they are and Mies was girly with me on all the Rhianna, Lady Gaga etc. Cormac never left my side. He danced with me so much he fell asleep on the bus.
I feel satisfied today,content, full, sated, whatever word fits best, I’m not quite sure. This is one of those days where I feel completely loved. It’s a great feeling and everyone should get to experience it once in their lives. We didn’t have sex last night, we didn’t even sleep in the same bed, but having him in the same room while I slept meant the world to me.
On Tuesday, my friend Niamh and I went to this natural soap products place and they had these things call portable toothpaste pellets, so I tried one. Little did I know it composed mostly of baking soda. I just started frothing at the mouth. I mean seriously, thick, white bubbly froth…
Today I am in college, feeling like slicing into my wrists quite cleanly and precisely. I am studying for my thesis but I can’t focus. I have the potential to go places in my field, but I’m held back by thoughts of nothingness and feeling blank.
Walking up the steps, even though the cherry trees are in full blossom and the leaf buds are ready to explode, all I could picture, was me walking up those steps, in my long navy coat with blood dripping down my sleeves. Dark red droplets contrasting with the concrete pavings, just walking on further with all the people around me not even noticing.
It’s a beautiful day here. I’m going out for my birthday later, but right now, all I want to do, is hide under my desk in the fetal position and not think for a little while longer, then everything will be ok.
I feel crazy. I should be so fucking happy right now, I’m very much in love, I’m finishing my degree and I have friends around me. I can’t explain to myself why I feel like this. It’s not rational, but then there’s a time and a place for everything and maybe right now isn’t the time for being rational. Who really knows this stuff anyway?
I’m not going to do anything stupid, my life is too important to me, I have so much going for me right now. I’m just having a low day.
If tomorrow’s not better, the day after will be. I have a lot of love still to give.
I’m sick and tired of feeling sick and tired. I just want things to go my way for once without everything seeming so damn hard. I miss Cormac and I’m disappointed he couldn’t meet me. It wasn’t his fault, just circumstances got in the way. I wish I could catch up with my college work, I’ve fallen really far behind. I wish my parents would accept who I really am. I wish people didn’t give negative advice when I need some positivity in my life.
I’m tired, and I wanna go home, but I have a class for the next two hours and I’m already dreading turning my phone back on afterwards.
The legend of Cormicus murphicus and his bearded ecosystem
This story starts with the realisation of a babybeing, at the foot of a hawthorn tree in the Wicklow countryside. Nestled between the roots of the ancient (and legendary) hawthorn tree was Cormicus murphicus. The hawthorn tree was in full blossom, even though it was august. Its flowers were tinged with gold which gave the tree an unnatural look. The branches always swayed even without the wind. The goatsucker peoples believed that the tree was trying to communicate and spent long hours trying to listen. Unfortunately trees don’t talk and they were all just wasting their time. The tree was dead inside in its deepest heart and needed help. Don’t ask how I know, I just do.
Cormicus murphicus was not of this world and he didn’t believe in the next one. He was the size of a seed and formally dressed. His hat was made of a piece of paper someone threw away and his suit was glued to his body like a second skin. He never did manage to take it off.
He silently sucked his thumb and waited. I don’t know if he knew what he was waiting for but he waited nonetheless. He waited there for four days before a sheep found him, licked his elbows, and then walked off again, having decided he was a not a daisy. This was a really silly sheep, she should have realised that daisies don’t have beards. He waited for another week and still nothing. At this point he was getting frustrated and needed a shower quite badly. He had grown quite a lot in the last week and stank of ethylene.
His beard was ripening. It had started off quite green but now it was turning the colour of tobacco. It even smelled like it too. I suspected it really was tobacco for a while. To prove to me it wasn’t he cut some off and let me smoke it. He even rolled it for me because I, until that point, was completely teetotal and had never even taken a drag of a cigarette. It wasn’t tobacco but I was tripping for days. I think at one point I tried to put my chickens in the fridge.
A whole month went by and he still didn’t know what he was waiting for. While he waited he read extensively in the language of the bees and the grasshoppers. He also read some aphid literature, however they seemed oversexed to him and he quickly went back to reading short stories written by the grasshoppers. He learned the secrets of nectar collection. He also learned that the flowers thought they were playing a trick on the bees, but the bees knew their game. A brightly coloured flower can’t keep a secret for long and the bees had overheard their gossip and had written extensively on the subject.
Once he understood the language of the flowers he began to listen in to their conversations. The flowers spoke with varying degrees of eloquence. The oldest flowers being the wittiest and dry humoured, the ferns especially poetic. The mosses continually held protests for bryophyte rights, the angiosperms were more primitive and chattery, like teenagers. With maturity and age comes understanding in a way.
Cormicus murphicus had exhausted the bee library; he literally consumed their knowledge by tasting each book. He became bored and started eavesdropping on the flowers, particularly the forsythia because it was gay and its campness and certain way of putting things amused him. He would listen to everything, becoming fluent was one way of amusing himself. Their stories were mostly about medical problems, like not having enough lignin to stay erect and stubborn stomatal problems. They talked about him too. About how much he had grown and how much more he would grow. They talked in hushed whispers about destiny and Russian roulette.
He did not understand their whisperings and still he waited.
While he waited, he tasted everything he could touch. His stomach never seemed to want but his mouth longed for flavour. His snakes tongue caught teasing glimmers of taste. Even his skin seemed to notice those tiny molecules in the air wafting by; sometimes forming eddies in the air current. He grew taller each day and his appetite for flavours grew stronger. Soon he could reach the branches of the hawthorn. He first tasted the bark. It had a barky taste. He tasted the sweet, delicate flower next. He liked it but was curious about the thorns.
My gods, people who can’t spell at university level should be kicked in the face till they learn some godsdamned grammar. I mean, is it too much to ask that they just use a spellcheck and learn the difference between “he” and “him”? (In Norwegian people tend to suck at differentiating the two. It makes me want to commit murder.)
When you’re writing your bachelor you should be fluent in your own damned language.
He really is quite wonderful,this man of mine. The usual description of beard hat and suit does not suffice here. He is intelligent, loveable, warm, giving, caring and kind. He is interested in many things not all of which you’d expect. He has done many things to me and my life for which I could not be more grateful.
This is the man I wanna marry and spend my life with. We can get married in a forest and have moustaches on theinvites. It’d be a small wedding, just the most important people. The people that matter to both of us.
The rest of our lives is the important bit really though. I’m looking forward to that the most. Mad adventures, holidays and drunken nights in and out. Passionate moments and losing all control. Cooking together, sleeping together and holding hands. Children, grandchildren. It’s all to come still, and you know what? The journey’s just beginning.