Writing influenced by the music

During my writing sessions, our lecturer comes up with various ideas to make us write something completely out of our comfort zone, something new, experimental and fun. A few weeks ago we were talking about music in writing, how it can influence the way we write and what do we write about. So our writing session ended up with listening to different songs while writing.
That's the piece I wrote that day influenced by Jay-Z 99 Problems, Dolly Parton Train Train, Mozart Prelude in C minor, BANKS Underdog, Taylor Swift (whatever stuff that was, I don't even care), Hole Violet. Eeeeennnnjjjjoooooyyyy.

No such thing can be explained easily. They'd be better off without, he was more than sure about that. Strange voices in his head were not even similar to his. The sound was so unfamiliar and irritating. 
She, on the other hand, was sure that it was a great idea. Leaving the city with a few dollars in her pocket, enough for gas expenses but not that much to be able to afford even one night in a motel.
Her mother wept and sobbed up till she drowned in her own sorrows. Her only daughter left with no goodbyes and no excuses were made for this horrible behavior. How one can leave the sick mother to die on her own. The body was found in the nightgown wet with tears, splattered with blood as she coughed the red liquid with her every word. Or was that just ketchup stains from her morning sandwich? I guess we'll never know, though we already know more than the daughter. We know that the mother is certainly dead. 
He was supposed to be happy. In the back of her car, looking for a map and a penny or two, just enough to buy bagels on the road. But it was nothing as he imagined it to be. Her voice squeaky, sick with excitement which he just couldn't handle.
If he kills himself that would rather be a mercy more than anything else. 
But he kept smiling and trying to enjoy their own little journey. They had no idea where they'd end up. But at least he could finally sing along to one song on repeat and eat bagels for dinner and stay up till 4 am. He was free but felt as if imprisoned. 


Why u do me lik dis internet? Seriously, guys. Chrome is fucking with me lately turning itself off while I'm in the middle of writing a huge ass post. I don't even remember what I was going on about in this paragraph. Feel my frustration guys by enhanced bad gramma and fcked up spellinzzzzzzzz. But anyways. Back to the important stuff. After writing short thingies to different types of music we were supposed to pick our favorite one and elaborate it. Sooooo there you goooo:

She, on the other hand, was sure that it was a great idea. Leaving the city with a few dollars in her pocket, enough for gas expenses but not that much to be able to afford even one night in a motel. This was her own, personal journey and money can't help if the aim is to find out who you really are - at least that was her opinion. With one bag filled with clothes and sanitary stuff and the other two packed with food, she was ready to embark on her great journey. All alone. Just her, her thoughts and her favorite CD playing the same five songs on repeat. And a map, obviously, although she has never learned how to read a map, it seemed right to take one. Car keys, checked, gas money, checked, map, checked, food, checked, another bag, checked, glasses, checked, license... Oh yeah. Driving license. She didn't really want to leave that particular day. And yes, she did remember that one needs a driving license to drive a car, or at least one needs to know how to drive a car. But who said you can't plan ahead? She'll get back to it when she is 16. Right after getting the license.

Morning with mood swings

It's almost the end of the first term and I'm stressed. I'm stressed all the time, I stress about everything. My job, my coursework, my social life, my lack of sleep and proper eating habits. I'm a huge mush of stress and because of that, my mood swings tend to be much more intense than usual. Good thing that I don't tend to get angry or super fucking sad in front of people, not even friends. My breakdowns usually happen when I'm all alone in my room. I prefer it that way since then I don't need to explain anything. I don't usually even know how to explain what's going on in my mind. That's just the way it is. The smallest thing may trigger something, it kinda works like an avalanche. Most of the times it's not even the fact that somebody said something and I didn't like it. Usually, it's about the mess in my room, the temperature outside, the shape of my face in my glasses, quality of paper on which I printed something. It's ridiculous. I'm fully aware of that. Thanks to being aware of such things I know sometimes how to control myself. It's rare but, trust me, I'm doing my best not to start crying in the library or not to kick the fucking printer. That kind of intrusive thoughts makes me wonder if I'm even close to being a normal human being. If maybe there's something I can do about it but I never did and now I'll be stuck in this swing forever. You can't even assume when you'll start feeling like shit. Sometimes you can't even recognize the feeling you currently deal with. Am I angry? Sad? Ecstatic? Terrified? Aaaaa, how the fuck do I know?
But yeah, I'm stressing over the tiniest shit lately. I don't know why.

Issue27.pl, artykuły, course work i praca w gastro

Dzień dobry robaczki,
Życie robi mnie w balona przez nadmiar wszystkiego. Dosłownie - wszystkiego. Od września próbuję łapać kilka srok za ogon i czasem mi to wychodzi, niestety kosztem spania i porządnego odżywiania się, bo ani na gotowanie ani na osiem godzin nic nie robienia nie mam czasu. Jest to okropnie frustrujące, ale sama się na taki styl życia pchałam. W tym roku akademickim chciałam połączyć mój course work z życiem społecznym, pisaniem dla portali online, oglądaniem moich ulubionych serialów oraz oczywiście musiałam do tego dorzucić moją pracę w gastro. Wiem, zaniedbałam bloga, ale pisać nie przestałam - głownie dlatego, że mój kierunek studiów wymaga ode mnie pisania 24/7... Bywa to męczące, jeśli myślę o esejach oraz prezentacjach, ale na duchu podtrzymuje mnie fakt, że głównym punktem programu są artykuły, poezja, proza. Wisienki na torcie rozpaczy i nieprzespanych nocy. Nie liczę już moich załamań nerwowych, planów rzucenia wszystkiego w cholerę i wyjechania w Bieszczady, bo trzyma mnie to, że jestem w stanie robić to co kocham. Gdyby tylko nie te deadline'y....
Odskakując w bok od moijego narzekania - wszystkich was zapraszam serdecznie do przeczytania mojego artykuły, który ukazał się na platformie magazynu online Issue27.pl. Wszystko potoczyło się bardzo szybko w tym miesiącu. Zobaczyłam ogłoszenie o wolnej posadzie "blogger/dziennikarz" na Facebooku, szybko zauważyłam słowo, które dla mnie jest kluczem do wszystkiego - "moda". Nie zwlekając długo wysłałam maila, w którym zapytałam się czy studentka drugiego rokku Journalism and Creative Writing się nada i boom - okazuje się, że tak. Dalej się cieszę z tego faktu, bo zdaję sobię sprawę, że po kilku latach pisania głównie po angielsku niektóre moje błędy w języku polskim są... śmieszne, ale od czego jest proof reading o trzeciej w nocy? Link do mojego artykułu macie tutaj robaczki

- http://issue27.pl/2017/11/08/modelingowe-abc-dla-planujacych-podbic-swiat-mody/.

Prócz nadmiaru pracy mam też okropny kaszel i ciągłe migreny od denerwowania się najmniejszymi pierdołami. Ciężkie życie studenta, a raczej osoby, która cholernie boi się końca studiów, bo podoba jej się punkt, w którym się aktualnie znajduje w życiu. Ekscytuje mnie perspektywa tego, że już za rok będę w ręku trzymać dyplom poświadczający fakt, że jestem w 100% profesjonalną dziennikarką i pisarką, ale myśl o podjęciu stałej pracy i full-time początkach w branży daje mi gęsią skórkę... Dlatego też po ukończeniu mojego kierunku będę skłądać papiery na MA Fine Arts, lub Graphic Design - w końcu zawsze były to jedne z opcji i perspektywa podniesienia swoich kwalifikacji tylko motywuje do rozwoju pasji.