Sunken Green

A faded yellow

A worn happiness that once lit the room

Peeling away to show black and blue

Hanging in vivid circles underneath

A sunken green

That stares blankly into night

Unalarmed by the flickers of red, orange, black that gather around him

Better than the grey numbness

He thinks

Until, smoke fills him

Choking, gasping

He hits a silver fir

Sees only black

Then white

Finally, nothing.










Do you know why I love to read?

You can understand the characters in a book far easier than people in real life, you can read their deepest inner thoughts… see how events and things shape their being and relate to their characteristics. You not only see the way they act towards others but you’re allowed to read and comprehend their consciousness, I think that’s fascinating.

We don’t understand the people around us. We can’t read minds and people don’t share  with others the things in their head out of fear of being judged or appearing ‘different’.

I can tell you now, I don’t know my closest friends, my family, anyone really. I don’t know how they feel or think, and they don’t know how I feel or think. We stare at faces every single day, faces we might have known our whole lives, years, months, weeks or even days, but we can never completely understand them. We are all mysteries. I could tell a person “I feel sad” and might give a reason for feeling sad but you can’t possibly understand the entire range of emotions and thoughts that boil within me and I could never understand these things that boil within them.

It’s funny really, that we’re so unaware. My brain is like a constantly running spinning wheel, it never stops but I often forget that the people around me also have this wheel turning in their own heads, to me they’re just faces. The characters in books are so easy to understand because we can get this greater insight into them as individuals that we could never possibly gain access to with the people that surround us. Probably my favourite book I’ve read this year (so far), is Sally Rooney’s ‘Normal People’. There was a complete depth to the main characters in this book that I felt I could understand them far better than anyone I have ever known. It was constantly mentioned in the book how these characters understood each other better than anyone else around them, which was true in many ways but it was also evident, at the same time, there was often misunderstandings between them, or reasons they acted a certain way that the other was oblivious to. It also became clear the extinct of how people can interpret events so differently, how their mind can just comprehend something in a certain way and therefore, one event involving two individuals could play out so different in each of their brains. As a reader, you can comprehend the way these characters acted or the reasons why they felt how they felt about various things because the writer allowed us to get a vivid insight into these character’s head that no one could ever get access to. It’s also interesting that every other character never had that same level of depth to them, and the main characters never seemed to have an interest in the mindsets of anyone else around them.


I’d love if I could read people’s minds like I read books. I don’t think you can actually know a person unless you had access to the things that run through their brain. I am just face and body to those around me, they are just a face and body to me. Regardless of how well I know a person, they are still always going to be a face and body (although, I might have more feelings and thoughts about some individuals over others). I think your real self lies in your consciousness.

Please feel free to share your thoughts on this. To be honest, it’s a hard topic to write about because it’s an endless spiral of thoughts but I find the subject of consciousness interesting. Also, if you haven’t read Sally Rooney’s book ‘Normal People’ I highly recommend it. The author is also from my hometown so I’m extra proud and in love with this book (it’s amazing!). If you’ve already read it, also please share your thoughts…I’d love any excuse to continuously discuss it. 🙂


Can you feel it?

Feel what?

The emptiness.


Yeah, the emptiness… there’s absolutely nothing interesting here.


All these conversations happening around us, there’s absolutely nothing to them. They’re pointless, meaningless, empty.

I guess…

Empty conversations. These people are empty. Their lives are empty. People should just say what they actually think…

Or feel?

Definitely… yeah, how they feel….

But what if they feel empty?

Then their conversations are empty…

You said you felt the emptiness?

But I don’t feel empty, I feel full.

“Book Nerd”

While working in a public library over the past five months, I’ve been reading more than ever. I’ve always been a very proud “book nerd” but after studying English in university as my undergraduate degree, I found it difficult to enjoy reading again for fun like I used to do prior to starting my third level education. It became a chore nearly. Personally, I throw full blame on having to read Moby Dick in my final year of my undergraduate; apologies to anyone who enjoyed that book but it just felt like complete torture to me. I found it difficult to go from book to book, I no longer enjoyed the relaxation/fun of reading. Fast forward a year and I’ve got my mojo jojo back (And yes, that’s a Powerpuff Girl’s reference).

Whilst living in Dublin, studying for my Master’s in Library and Information Science, I slowly started getting into the swing of enjoying books. I didn’t over do it, chiefly because university is hard work but I loved reading a couple of pages every night or whenever I had the opportunity. Since starting my current job in my local library in May, I’ve fallen in love with books and reading all over again. Actually, I think it was the children that visit the library and seeing their adoration for books, some that I would’ve read only 15 years ago, and realising how much I missed that obsession of finding a great book and treasuring it. I’ve come across so many of my childhood favourite books in the library that I’ve become a little biased to recommend these stories to parents that visit the library with their children. The ‘My Naughty Little Sister’ books were the first stories I remember reading when I was a child that I think I make the effort of having them placed on the display shelf everyday. Anyway, I’ve found that love for literature again and I’m now reading more than ever.

Below are my favourite books I’ve read this year (so far), please throw any of your recommendations in the comments:

  1. The Tattooist of Auschwitz – Heather Morris
  2. Solar Bones – Mike McCormack
  3. Normal People – Sally Rooney
  4. Call Me By Your Name – André Aciman
  5. A Spool of Blue Thread – Anne Tyler
  6. Skin Deep – Liz Nugent


I know, I know, it’s been awhile. I didn’t intend to become so ‘lazy’ with my posts over the last three/four months but life got a little busy and alongside life getting busy my mind also became a little ‘busy’ (to put it nicely).

I suppose the best news I can announce is that I’ve completed my masters. Two weeks ago I submitted my final assignment, which wasn’t a thesis but more of a project-like assignment that was equal in credits to a thesis. It was tough; very, very tough. I usually panic when I can see a mountain of work building and alongside the fact I wasn’t really in the best frame of mind and I’ve been working full-time, I did struggle a lot over the month of August. However, I’m all finished now!! I should get my results next month, I really doubt I finished with that 2.1 grade anymore but I don’t think I care now. I’m just delighted I’m finished, I’ll be graduating in December and I can kind of get on with my life now this chapter of being in full-time education is over. I kind of took a two week break then after my submission, just to re-evaluate my life a little. Try focus on feeling like me again. It’s funny how a small, tiny happening can make you lose track of yourself. I think it’s clear that I’m a very sensitive person, I usually warn people (probably because I don’t want them to hurt me and I hope that by telling them it’ll let them know to go easy on me). If something happens, however big or small, I end up stressing about everything I’ve done or said or just my general existence that may have caused it. I felt I was doing so well, really well, prior to this downwards spiral that I just wanted to get back to being there again. So, I’ve been taking a conscious break from some aspects of my life. I’m still not really sure what I’m doing or where I’m going but I just needed to put focus on the present and stop thinking/worrying about things that have happened or things that could or might never happen. I just want to be a good person, be happy and by doing so, hope to make other’s happy too.

Away from all of that, I moved home in May because I got given a short contract in my local public library. I was initially hired for a paid two month contract as a student library assistant but this contract got renewed for a further three months, I’m meant to be finishing at the very end of this month but there’s also a chance I could possibly get renewed for another month. I absolutely love my job. It’s kept me going over the past few months and I absolutely know I’m meant to work in public libraries. I love being involved in my community and meeting people from all walks of life. They’ve given me so many opportunities too, to learn and take initiative in the role. I love laying out the display shelves and only last week I set up a Roald Dahl display for his birthday, I also get to do toddler story-time every Thursday which is the highlight of my week. There should be permanent jobs coming up there in the next few months so fingers crossed I’ll get one of those.

I plan to start actively posting again. I don’t really have an excuse anymore now that I’m finished university so I’m definitely aiming to post more regular anyways than I have done over the last few months; plus, writing has always been my favourite way to cope with life and let things out. Just bare with me, I’m still finding my feet!!

Maybe, if

Maybe, if I was skinny you’d want me?

Perhaps, if I was more intelligent you’d still be here?

Possibly, if my nose was smaller,

Lips were larger,

Had three less fat rolls on my corners,

You’d still be mine?

What if I was someone else?

Different face, body shape, brains

Would it make you want me now instead?

I can’t stop thinking of all these reasons that maybe changed your mind.

Maybe, I should be a better person?

Maybe, I don’t know how to give affection?

Maybe, I lack the maturity to be there for you when you’re in trouble?

Why can’t I stop feeling like I need to change?

I feel empty.

Maybe, if you just spoke to me.