Shiny Letters

I've got my grades back for the end of university and am very happy to report that I got a 2:1. I'm very proud that my work has paid off. It's been three years of a lot of hard work but also a lot of fun. I have my wonderful friends mainly to thank for this. I am exceptionally lucky to have met such a diverse, talented, loving and just generally fantastic group of people. Very lucky indeed.

Me having achieved a Zen state of enlightenment from my extensive studies in English with Creative Writing

 

 

 

 

 

More importantly, I am now to be addressed as Emma Preuss BA (Hons).

Little Things

Bone chill and palm tree lash  
Whirling eddies swirl the air 
Cut through me - gentle sting 
The fingernail scratches 
Sore emotion and strange freedom

The grey in my flesh  
The grey in my chest 
The red in my nose and cheeks

This is the colour of colds  
This is not real suffering 
I am anguish embodied 
Writing smudged in the rain 
I am sodden and ridiculous

I hear my cry: “I am burning. 
Look how I burn!”

Freedom and all those lovely books

It's been a busy month or so, but I've just made it through my degree. A while ago I was looking at the 'What I'm reading' meme and I took this picture:

This basically sums up all the things I no longer have to worry about. The top four were for essays, the lower two for the play I was directing. Although the latter was a lot more enjoyable than the former, it was an awful lot of work. Although it should be noted that there is some interesting reading in this pile, most of it was enforced which sucks a good deal of joy out of even the best books. All of that is out of the way now and my life is already feeling a good deal more relaxed.

A can now begin to attack my reading list. I can read just for my own pleasure for the first time in nearly three years and it feels marvellous!

Remember, remember...

The coloured glow of separation
Against the nuclear families
Fenced in and out in the cold
I inscribed my thoughts
Drawing distraction
A work of modern art
In criss-crossing lines
A three week legacy
Of the bad times
There’s autumn in the air
So no-one wondered why
I hid these thoughts away

The cloth clung to my skin
And sand filled every crack in me
Except those thoughts
I hid away from the air
And left for the morning
When the ashy smell
Had blown away
The coloured shells had landed
And collected in corners
Unfortunate debris