Since Theresa May’s grammar school announcement, there has been much debate surrounding the success of such a school. I have seen a plethora of articles detailing the negative effects to a child’s mental health, the elitist process that sieves out the poor in favour of the rich and even personal accounts of a pupil’s own experiences in such an environment. Many articles I have read have been negative; both in the practicality of May’s proposal, as well as the side-effects of a grammar-style education.
Halloween, the time for ghouls and ghosts, for devils and demons but in recent years Halloween has been rife with slutty pumpkins, hoards of black cats and abysmal foam costumes. What happened to the vampires, fake blood and decaying dead?!
As a child, Halloween was a time for free sweets, chocolate and sometimes the odd 20p. Knocking on my neighbours doors and shouting ‘Trick or Treat!’ at the top of my lungs was possibly one of my favourite past times. Dressing up caused chaos. As the bin liners were ripped and red felt sewn, the house turned from luxury to decrepit mansion; the ultimate Halloween haven.
Since then I’ve taken Halloween seriously.
There are times such as this when I have writers block. When I have so many things to say but I can’t fathom the words to say them. My creativeness stifled by deadlines and work, so I look back to my old posts. The posts which have been lost at the bottom of the pile and I write.
From this adventure through my past, I found a letter I had written to myself in 2012. It was addressed to my 20 year old self and now that I am 21 I can think of no better time to send a reply.
Dear 17 year old Anna,
I want to answer your queries with ‘yes’ and ‘no’ but such answers are unsatisfactory. They do not justify the naivety of your wishes and regard them as irrelevant to my life today. But as you now know, they are not. Continue reading “A reply to my 17 year old self…”
It is widely known that landlords are the bane of students lives and for anyone in rented accommodation they are equal to the wicked witch of the West. Unfortunately mine is no exception, although on first meeting I thought he would be.
A typical old man, he was kind and welcoming. With his curly white hair and bushy eyebrows, he was talkative and made us feel at ease. Regimented yet fair, I thoroughly believed he would be easy to get along with.
But since moving in to my flat in September, he has been a nightmare. The fairy tale image I was had held has been destroyed, replaced with a maleficent figure. His curly white hair and bushy eyebrows which were endearing before, now an image of regret and peril. Like caterpillars, they lie upon his face while his condescending voice booms. He barks his orders from afar, demanding payment when we had no WiFi, being the central reason for our WiFi-less pit and the demon who allowed us to freeze to death. Is this a Halloween transformation or a year long nightmare? Continue reading “Breakthrough: A Landlord Rant”