29 July 2016

Procrastination Vs Satisfaction.

Procrastination. An endless battle against yourself in attempt to get things done, but having no motivation to stop stalking Kylie Jenner's following list or repeatedly indirecting your internet friends to text you back on Twitter.

For me, procrastination comes in bursts. The more I have to do, the more easily I get on with it because I get so worked up and stressed over it. If (like I do now) have a piece of work set for the holidays, automatically I feel like I can put it off and its fine to listen to Dan Howell's diss track on repeat instead of working on your project before going away on holiday. Which is exactly what I've done anytime it comes to doing anything remotely educational since the holidays began, even in subjects I enjoy and I am continuing with for GCSE.

At 11pm I finally got off of my phone (which did require me turning it off, BUT IT WORKS, trust me!) and sat down to get all of the research done for my biology project (which is ten times more boring than I'd anticipated, and my classmates agree). Two hours later, four pages of information on a scientist who I don't really care about is all typed up and ready to be presented creatively when I get back home. I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW SATISFYING IT IS TO HAVE FINISHED THIS. It was boring, yes, and I hated every moment of it, yes, but it was worth it and now it's done!

Even though I still have an A3 sketchbook to fill (Ive done the cover, a single page and one double page spread), all of this information to present in a booklet, half of my history homework left and 2000 Spanish terms to learn, this was definitely the most boring thing out of everything I had to do, so it's good to get it done!


26 July 2016

The future of 'Amerelle'.

It would not be fair on anybody reading this to say that I'm going to start blogging again, because something will happen again and I just wont be in the right frame of mind for this. Instead, I will say this;

As I am sat here now, I am not writing this because I feel like I have to, or because I feel like I'm going to be letting people down if I dont, I'm doing it because I want to. I want to be sat here at late at night in the dark with my glasses on and headphones in. I think this is when I produce the best content. When I want to be producing it.

So, I'm not going to say I'm going to upload x many times a week and they will be about x, y, and z. No, I'm going to upload as and when I want and feel happy enough to do so, because I see little point in forcing words onto a page in a stressful rush with a pile of schoolbooks and homework screaming at me for attention, or when I'm having a week or month when my life just isn't going too well, because that happens sometimes.

See you soon people, probably ;)

24 July 2016


Do you ever look at the pictures of models whilst having a casual browse on ASOS, and end up thinking about how you look nothing like them? How they're prettier, slimmer, how their skin is perfect and their hair in thick perfectly straight locks down their perfect figure? Because that's exactly how I've been feeling recently.

I'm sat here in my bedroom, with That's The Spirit on repeat through my headphones, with my hair in a towel and my glasses perched on my far from perfect nose and skin. Before sitting down at 10pm, when its dark outside and the only sound I can hear besides my music is the sound of my fingers sliding across these keys, I looked in the mirror. And all I could think was "ew". All I could think about was every ounce of fat that is glued to my skin, the extra fat around my hips and stomach and especially my thighs. "Fat". "Ugly". "Disgusting". That's what is going round my mind over and over again like a carousel.

Whenever I flick through my Instagram feed, I can't do so without coming across numerous pictures of girls (at least half of them I know in person) without admiring their perfectly skinny figures, with perfect tiny waists and hips and collarbones which are perfectly pronounced, and the thigh gaps just perfectly wide and their calfs perfectly slim. They are skinny. And as my finger pauses in it's scrolling on each of them, I can't help but admire that, and ponder over the fact that I don't look like these girls. At all. I'm not skinny. I hate everything about my figure and my body and my appearance. But teenage girls just like me cannot go anywhere without drowing in images of girls with perfect figures. Girls who are skinny.

I have been working out one to two times a day for the past two weeks, and only just beginning to see the progress. I know that I've lost weight, and that I should be happier with my figure now. But I'm not. It isn't enough. Each ounce of fat that I burn off leaves me wanting to burn two more. Each meal that I eat that I think is too big makes me want to skip the next.

I don't know what this is. I know plenty about eating disorders, but I dont know. I don't know if all girls or a lot of girls who don't suffer with anorexia (or any other eating disorder) feel like this, but I do.

I feel smothered. Smothered in a world of perfect girls. Skinny, perfect girls