The reality of being a student

When hearing about fresher’s week people mainly talk about the drinking and the parties. People complain about the hangovers, and you see zombies in the back rows of the lecture halls, half asleep and nursing bottled water. But the week-long hangover of fresher’s week isn’t the lowest point you will reach. Freshers flu is real. And it sucks. It starts off with a basic cold, not to bad but enough to cause discomfort. Then it stays and stays, each time you think you’re in the clear you get re-infected. The cold weather kicks in and you realize you don’t own a coat or decent clothing. It develops into a cough an all your friends avoid you to stay healthy themselves. You walk around constantly cold and Starbucks becomes your new best friend (and your bank accounts worst enemy). When you’ve been ill for over a month and your living off cold and flu tablets you decide it’s time to call a Doctor. This is when the real fun starts. At this point you begin to understand why everyone a...

I wrote this little piece today after a conversation with a friend. We were talking about the trees and it mad me think about the way we describe things and how some things are defined by words or colour's. One of the mantras that keeps cropping up in my seminars and lectures is the phrase 'show don't tell'. I'd been beginning to find it annoying but today I began to understand it, Green, one simple word that describes so much. But does it capture the essence of the grass, the boldness of a stem , that shade between green and blue that made up the sea. It can’t possibly. But it does. We look at the grass the stems and the sea and the word we choose to describe these things is green. But they are so much more. The grass is vibrant and smooth, the needle like blades flow together in the breeze like a blanket. The stems are dark and strong, each wiry muscle supporting the delicate flower petals. The sea is a watercolor mix of turquoise. Nothing is just green.

I looked at my little world, it was small and dull but it was safe. Big walls of twigs and leaves soaring high above me, keeping me safe cocooned in my home. I can see long branches surrounded by busy green leaves when I look up, and the sky’s blue water paints leak through the cracks in the leaves. The sky. Mums told me about it. She goes there some times, she can be gone for hours but she always brings back food. She told me that when I’m bigger my brothers and sisters and I will be able to go to the sky with her. I’m excited but I’m scared too, what if I can’t fly, what if I fall. Today, today were going to the sky. We’ve all climbed to the edge of the nest and were ready to go. There’s a bundled knot of nerves in my stomach and my heart is beating erratically as if it’s about to burst through my chest. Before I knew I was the only one left, everyone was singing happily and flying around in happy circles. Mums gaze was on me her eyes expectantly watching my every move. I moved ...

I sat at the pond side, my nostrils were burning, the foul aroma of the waste filled water almost palpable on my tongue. The other frogs were happily sunbathing in the putrid green waters. I tried to stay by the flowers hoping they would help to permeate the air by my head. It did not work. I’d read the story books about princess’ and frog prince’s when I was younger, but I had never believed them to be true.  They were all from the point of view of the poor lonely princess’, the books never delved into the traumatic journey that princes had to go through. I was slimy and stinky and my webbed feet were sticking to every surface. How was I supposed to get a princess to kiss me if I looked like this? I was murky brown and my mouth was full of flies. Id tried to stop myself from eating them, but my long curling tongue shot out of its own accord.  I’d been determined to avoid the water but as my scales dried the pain forced me to inch closer to the algae filled muck....