What To Expect From an AnxiousFoodie Summer

I may not have posted on here as often as usual lately, but that was down to exams. Now I am on my holidays and finally getting my energy back, here is a list of what I expect to post very soon!

In no specific order

1. Singapore reviews of food and everything travel related.
2. Notes on my upcoming mediteranean cruise.
3. More poetry and helpful eating disorder related posts.
4. Maybe some short stories, more book reviews, and imaginings. 
5. Reviews of The Wavendon Arms, and The Swan at Salford.

6. Reviews of anything else of interest I am able to do eg. more restaurants, foodie finds, foodie recipes, foodie day out recommendations. 

I do not promise that everything on this list will happen, but numbers 1, 2, 3, 5, and some of 6 are definite. I really hope I can find inspiration in a book to write a book review soon too, since I plan to read lots! (I hope to write something related to The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver soon, but it is such a big and interesting book - I don't know where to start!).

Yours,

G x <3 

Bones

(Aurdey Niffenegger, Topsy Turvy, 2010)

Bones

My hip bones for reassurance,

My toes for comfort,

My wrists to mark the time,

And my collar bone for vanity.

My shoulder blades to help me sleep, 

My spine for rhythmic rhyme.

And my buttocks to feel to pain,

And cheek bones to act as racks.

My pelvis, so perhaps I won't heal again.

Then my calf bones like ravines, 

where pain runs deep.

My jaw,

to prove there's more.

My fingers to probe my emotions.

And my nose,

To feel the shrinking skin,

And my eye sockets to dob me in.

Finally my ribs to prove the sin,

As there is where it did begin.

Anastasia Miandia Bularexi

Anastasia Miandia Bularexi

Some say she grew rich in the fashion trade,

whereas others believe she thrives on the necessity and dreams.

Rumor has it that she changes her appearance as often as the wind, 

Different at every meeting; brunette, blonde, Filipino, Nordic, Slavic, Black.

She rises to success on the whim of some unassuming passer by,

or she manifests herself in relationships,

leading both male and female, into adultery. 

But once she tastes sin - she's in. Bye bye

birdy.

She climbs the career ladder and fights aggressors with full force, 

roaring in her boardroom voice

and getting what she wants.

Tyrannical, she can distract every living sole around her, 

until she's too prominent to be noticed. 

But by then she's sunk into herself,

causing trouble from within her upper east side condo, or Kensington town house.

She really is a wild one - some

might whisper admiringly, while

those with any sense scream Away Away through experience...

         ...or simple logic.

When she falls from her position as CEO, her closest underdogs flail,

not knowing how to cope -

that is, 

until they feel the arms of the world around them,

trying to rebuild the fateful economy of a world she destroyed in her fleeting - or frightening - time at the top.

Translating My Head

I don't always write with a specific feeling or emotion in mind, and this poem is one of the results of one of those times. I feel that every time I reread it I find a different meaning in it, sometimes completely different to the last time. I hope that others will be able to find their own meanings and interpretations, instead of me giving you my own.
This piece is compiled out of many Latin proverbs, and I'm in two minds as to post my version containing Latin or the complete English one; so I have decided to post the Latin one, so you can either ask me for the translation if you want it, or do some Latin proverb research yourselves. I find it hugely inspiring, this ancient civilization with so many ideas and, in some cases, better ways of life. Times change, but thoughts remain.

Translating What Exists

Tempus fugit

But  veni, vidi, vici

Yet still ambulatio  memoranda,

 As luctor et emergo and Non omnis moriar

For amat victoria curam

(Although damnant quod non intelligunt)

 - But I know that cogito, ergo sum.

I'm not sure if benneficium accipere libertatem est vendere

Or whether castiget rigendo mores.

That said, I often ask "sed quis custodiet ipsos custodes?"

I am led to believe that rem nimium benere, in solitudo esse

But instead I know deep down that usus est magister optimus

So culpae poena par esto.

Or, in other words;  noli me vocare, ego ti vocabo.

Weepy Moods

For me, the possibility of a weepy mood is always likely, but like the waves of the sea you never know when you will encounter a particularly rough patch. Sometimes it is easy to sit in a boat and hardly notice the waves unless you consciously  pay attention. At other times there is no escape from choppy conditions. Some people cope, and others feel sickness beyond comparison. 

Sometimes I feel like a boat being rocked, and ultimately, I have no choice where the tides take me. Sometimes it is all too much and a tsunami will destroy me, leaving the rest of my world to pick up the pieces. Its like I'm the insignificant boat, and all around me my world deals with me in different ways. As a boat, I may be one drop in the ocean, but investors in this boat care, whereas others care simply out of boat appreciation, and some others don't give a damn. Some people can't give a damn - they have enough trouble of their own. 

I suppose what I'm trying to say is that I'm always conscious of the actions my moods cause me and others to take, even though as an inexperienced boat, I cannot move the tides. 

But I can learn to negotiate them.

Weepy Moods

For the sea, they

Come and go

 as lapping tides

Influenced by the far yet not unknown

Starting so quickly

Receding slow

Accentuated by the dark

As the distant roaring turns to close moans

And blows boats down

Like the blustery sea breeze

Before waves rise up like a new

Life but the change is not for the good

As soon a tsunami will surge up and appear

to rock the boat so no longer it can float high

As it crashes down with an almighty splash as the sea

Realises its mistakes and tries to repent consuming all around it

Until it recedes sucking  all emotion and wealth from the lowly world

Until there is nothing

All the water has left

But  the tide breaks

heavily yet Alone

 the world stands

still bemused

By events

Beyond

 their control 

My Song

My Song

Shudder, shudder
Buck, buck
Cripple,
tuck,
Muscle lock
*Jaw ticks like a clock*
moan
Groan
Mumble mutter
Spit spat word clutter
Curl tight tight tighter
Push push heavy heave
Lift fall gasp splutter
Tears water dry running
Bolt straight stiff
Running!
Beat beat hit punch push fall,
Crunch crunch.
Exert exert tense
Snap!

("m" "mmM" "M"
"my?"
*rabid nodding*
"b" "B" "Baaaa" "ba" "C" "ccckkkk"
"your back?"
*grateful crying*)

Cripple straight cripple straight
Slowing slowing
*But just keeps going*
Crying silence
Out.

Soliloquy Of The Misunderstood

Soliloquy Of The Misunderstood

(how could it ever not be so?)

Bleeding, growing

Ribs not showing.

Less slow motion

More emotion

But still,

 there's the Commotion.

Banging in my head,

Tears running for the emotions still not put to bed

"It's recovery" they said.

But do I really want that, I questioned as you upped your stealth.

So, they tried to swap you for health -

I tried to keep you for wealth -

But you never do me right

And In the middle of the night

I'm less alone than in the day,

For you run around, come what may,

With your endless chat, still the start of the fray.

"not good enough for that" and "far too fat"

go hand in hand with

"just a brat" and "ruin everything like that".

So, its irregular, not right.

It's neither fight nor flight

This thing that bites and blights,

But shines so bright to guide me home,

But still I can't help but moan,

In a helpless tone,

Water, water every where,

Nor any drop to drink.

        /Think.