the world is yours

I wrote most of this a few months ago, post-brexit and very angry.

I turned on Radio 4 as soon as i woke up to discover the news. Britain had voted to leave the European Union.

Still lying in bed, I cried. I cried for myself, for my generation, for my future but also for the millions of others who haven't realised the consequences of their decision.

Later on, I hysterically cried in anguish (I also had a bad day, it wasn't just brexit) over the sheer lack of control or power myself and my peers had over this decision. Our future hadn't been taken away from us, but worse; shaped so distortedly that we could no longer recognise it and call it our own.

A few months ago I was lucky enough to travel to the European Parliament in Strasbourg with school. There, not only did i realise how but I met other young Europeans who have experienced the effects of the refugee crisis firsthand, in their own neighbourhoods, They believed that the way to find a solution and move forward was through solidarity with the rest of Europe. Not by stepping into the unknown, reaching into darkness for an answer, as this nation seemed to think was the best option.

All those wonderful, inspiring and vibrant people we met - we are not a part of their future anymore

.

Worse still, the effect the referendum will have on the already monolinguistic sentiment in Britain, a sentiment which sadly dominates the education system. Languages and language-learning now seem like a luxury, rather than the cultural and communicative necessity that they they truly are.

In post-Brexit Britain am I still considered a young European?  How will this change our future? What does Brexit really mean? No one knows.

some frankly shockin stats surrounding immigration

Two protests I attended, one in my hometown, one in London. 

suzie xo

my youth and i

hello !

It feels slightly surreal writing. Writing something that isn't an essay or an obligatory piece of writing, just my own thoughts. It's been a while and i don't really know where this blog going or what's gonna happen but i'm cool with that. 

I finished my last AS exam today and i am currently in a vegetated state. I'm at peace though and have exciting things lined up for the summer. Some school friends are putting together a zine, i'm staying with a french family in august AND hopefully going to amsterdam too.....

Here are some journal thangs i did for MØ's online zine contributing thing, She's putting together a zine of fan's contributions so i went nuts, printed off some video stills and tea-stained 22 pages of my journal. procrastination à l'extreme. 

bad scanning as usual.

maybe i'll post (photos or something) soon. who knows ! i'm also gonna start reading blogs again, i'm out of hibernation and excited to see what everyone is doing !

suzie xo

decay

Winter is supposedly decay, or once was. Now it symbolises a beacon of 'giving' and 'life' aka capitalism hijacking a religious holiday. I am not completely adverse to the festive period; I enjoy eating, staring pensively at christmas lights and singing carols, but what does it all mean?

a study in the colours of decay

the record shop in my town is closing down next week thanks to a fat, new department store crushing its very existence. where will i buy my cds? where will i scrounge free magazines from? who cares about department stores? Despite these obvious setbacks, this is the first time I've been aware of the local impact of privatisation and, although I am aware it is not directly affecting me (i am being melodramatic), it does make everything very real. 

M.I.A has received a lot of stick for this, but that's the risk of a political statement. I like the song and the concept but for me it's the video  - who are the people? are they refugees? why are there no females? is this cultural appropriation? help me.



other good songs x

everyone's a prophet when they don't know what to say

Hello. I am writing this on my birthday eve (it is now a  week later and i am officially 17. whoo). Tomorrow i will turn 17, or 'the big one seven' as my mother refers to it as, which is something i have much excitement for. I have always favoured being an odd number, despite it being ridiculous i find it more comfortable and less defined than an even number.
I don't want to bore you with the excess of history essays and french grammar sheets i spend most of my time doing, so i will keep this brief. The past month has been a haze of new-schoolness and i'm not settled yet. Once i'm in a  rhythm i will be able to blog regularly/properly.

These are some disposables i promised to post approx a month ago. A summary: we day-tripped to Bristol and pottered amongst charity bookshops, vintage clothes and much graffiti.

the title is from 'Chinatown' by Girlpool. it is a really beautiful song. go listen.

hope you are all peachy,
suzie 

x

you make me wanna spit on your honour

Recently I have been enjoying basing my outfit around one colour. Grey is not a particularly exhilarating colour, but I think its underrated. I like the blend of "dull" and monochrome-ish colours in this outfit, which are livened up by the paisley pattern on my trousers.

I found the jacket the day before in a vintage shop called Don Majors in Bristol. If you ever visit/live in Bristol it is definitely worth a visit. I also found an ace Lacoste striped shirt for £15, and this jacket was only 10 quid. The patch says "Girls at Work" which I like too. I like to imagine that the past owner was the captain of an all-female baseball team. how rad would that be? The t shirt is from Urban Outfitters, where I generally don't like to shop because of its morals/overpriced-fake-vintage but this was in the sale and it has pizza on it. c'mon pizza rules. The trousers are from Topshop and the shoes are grubby Deichmanns which are now a health hazard as the soles have split. I am currently trying to wear in an actual, real pair of doc martens which is proving tough work. 

disposables 

The post title is taken from "No Mythologies to Follow" by MØ. I have had a budding obsession with MØ and all things Danish for a while now, not least because she is an actual style goddess, takes inspiration from The Spice Girls and Nirvana, and is a wicked songwriter. 

I find this line really badass and reminiscent of a girl gang attitude. Most of her songs seem to sum up emotions of youth and growing up which, being sixteen, i obviously find relatable. 

Hopefully i'll be back soon as I have some more recently developed disposables to share.

suzie

greengages

Late August by Margaret Atwood encaptures the heavy/sexy/impatient/lustful summer atmosphere. The description of the plums reminds me of the greengages and figs i have been gorging on recently. There is something desperately indulgent about sweet, summer fruits.
 I feel restless in these last few weeks of summer when I know I should relish in it. Its like an itch. An itch for a new beginning. And yet I don't want to let go of this consistent boredom. Some days I write 'to do' lists, which are rarely completed. I wanted to write contributions this summer, and now I only have one week left. At least I have been consistent in not completing my lists.

journalling:

attempts at pressing flowers

vain


a white trainers collage, a collection of songs and a danish pun. i tried to stain the pages with green tea but it looks dirty. i promise its tea.

suzie

source:

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/82190761920175126/

sri lanka

My summer of transition is going well. I returned from Sri Lanka a week ago, dazed and baffled. The whole two weeks spent there were an absolute dream.

At some point last year my friend and I thought that we were capable of flying half way across the world for two weeks at the ripe old age of sixteen. It was only until we stepped off the plane into the almost insufferable heat that we realised quite how momentous it actually was.

The first few days were a blur of jetlag and foreign noises/food/everything, but beyond that we seemed to forget our past lives and fully engrain ourselves in the thick of it.

The mornings were spent looking after Kumara (meaning Prince), a magical elephant who had sustained injuries from his former life in the tourism trade, but who appeared to be happy being pampered by westerners. The afternoons were either spent sleeping, exploring by tuk tuk or tagging along to the orphanage. The orphanage was an emotionally-draining experience but i'm glad I went; actually seeing the lives and societal position of these children in the flesh really did have an impact on us.

 We were mainly transported by tuk tuk, which is the most fun mode of transport I have ever experienced. Not only can you encounter the sights and sounds of Sri Lanka, the drivers also enjoy playing banging tunes at top volume. Some of my favourites included Mysterious Girl by Peter Andre and One Love by Blue. Pure nostalgia.

Here are the developed photographs from one of the disposable cameras I didn't mislay in a tuk tuk.

 

 

This is Bob, one of the tuk tuk drivers. Everyone in Sri Lanka has a mild obsession with Bob Marley, so (i guess) his nickname is due to that.

 

 

 

The pattern on a temple ceiling

 

 

The long descent from said temple



A lone woman, spotted on a boat ride

 

sunbathing on hell roof (named so, by myself, because of the temperature - I spent 10 minutes up there and my eyelids started sweating)

 

 

 

View of coconuts from the top of hell roof



The sweaty but aesthetically-pleasing bus ride to Mirissa, where we spent the weekend

 

 

Glorious Mirissa

 

 

attempting to take a photograph of a thoughtful quote in The Handmaid's Tale. I think it was "But maybe boredom is erotic, when women do it, for men", which I find interesting. The novel is full of intriguing notions from the narrator and protagonist, Offred. It was on my summer reading list for sixth form but it has become enjoyable to read rather than a task.

 

 

Glorious Kumara, the only man in my life

 

The wicked view we looked out upon whilst washing Kumara

 

Caught in a torrential downpour

The town
 



I hope all your summers are as peachy as you hoped.

 

suzie