5 Second Review: Logan

Sorry it has to be a quick review today. Due to assignments I haven’t got time to write a full review. But, this film was so amazing I couldn’t resist typing a brief spoiler-free review anyway. I originally posted this as a Facebook status so I apologise in advance. 

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Logan was so good! No spoilers but it is such a fitting end for a beloved character. goodbye Wolverine :'(. This film is so much more than a ‘superhero movie’. It is full of character, love, family, drama and action. Definitely one of my favourite X-Men movies so far, and definitely my favourite Wolverine film. It was just so beautiful, realistic and well put together. A job well done Hugh Jackman! It does feel like an end of an era though. Especially since the X-Men movies were the films that founded my love for Marvel in the first place. I don’t think they will be the same without Wolverine as he was always a favourite of mine (unless they re-cast him but that would be so horrible!). *sigh*

Skies of Ash and Dust

Readers may find some themes upsetting. This is my second assignment for my science fiction class. It has been marked and handed back so I can finally share this one with you all too. I got a 77 on this story which I am especially proud of! It is an apocalyptic story which ended up as a spoof of sorts. I hope you like it!

Skies of Ash and Dust

Outside the library, in the rural village of Somerton, a crow sat in a tree. It cawed before taking off, its two and a half eyes watching intently for predators. Carried by large, black wings, the crow sailed over the roof of the crumbling building and into the distance, a shadow against the grey skies, tarnished by the thick nuclear winter.
The skies were brightening as dawn penetrated through the endless clouds. The nuclear war of 2020 had caused huge fires, throwing up plumes of ash and dust into the atmosphere. Ever since, the sun has become a faint imprint in the distance, the warmth of summer a faint memory. It was cold, it was always cold, but with dawn came some resemblance of warmth that made it possible for life to still exist on Earth.
Named after their home, the librarian tribe, pulled themselves out of the thick downs of gathered material they used as bedding. Pieces of ripped paper stuck to their skin and dust covered their hair, the tribe’s clothes were matted patchworks made from the carpet that once covered the library floor.
The first man to rise walked over to the fire in the centre of the room, he began stocking the flames with the dry kindling that was plentiful outside. This man was the leader of the tribe and the most intelligent citizen. He had been awarded the highest of names only last year when his predecessor had died from an infection. He was once known as Daniel Defoe but now he was William Shakespeare. He looked over his shoulder at his wife, Jane Austen, who was lying sick in her cot. Like his predecessor, she had caught an infection and no one lasts long after that.
He felt sad that she was going to die soon, but at least he had his choice of women after she was gone. As the current Shakespeare, he was the most sought after man, and every woman wanted her son to be the next to earn the highest of names. There had been at least four lennies born recently, so most of the women were secretly hoping his wife would die soon so they could become the next Jane Austen and give him an intellectual son.
The lennies were sent out to gather kindling and the female fixers, too old or young to be breeders, set to work freeing a blockage from their water reclaimer. Shakespeare fed some healant into his wife, made by the shopkeepers across the road, before teaching his prodigies. He taught the most promising children the secrets of the books, in a hope to train the next Shakespeare, but the class seemed to grow smaller every year. With a limited gene pool, intellects were becoming rare. It was a disaster that had landed heavily on his shoulders. Obviously, the Great God Homer wasn’t looking favourably on him and his leadership was beginning to be questioned.
Sat in front of him was his son, a skinny teenager with thick black hair and the characteristic yellow eyes that helped the librarians see in the dusk. He was only slightly more intelligent than a lennie and it was embarrassing. Charles Dickens had failed Homer’s sacred DK Encyclopaedia test when he came of age so his son’s name had been stripped away and passed on to the son of a lennie. So, although Shakespeare’s son, newly named Fitzgerald, was older than the other students, he was still having to teach him so he could pass the test.
After lunch and a communal reading of Odyssey 7.1 Alcinous, Shakespeare left the library for his daily trade with the shopkeepers.
He locked away the sacred texts and pulled an insulator over his tattered clothes. This particular suit had been weaved out of pages from lennie books that had given the tribe no benefit of intelligence, books shunned by the great Homer but given a new purpose thanks to the great god’s generosity.
Outside, it was mid-afternoon, the light was at its brightest point. One of the lennies, gifted the name Sequoia, the strongest of trees, by Homer, walked beside him. Sequoia was carrying a trunk full of water and his thick arms were laden with kindling. It was only a short walk to the shop where the other tribe lived, but it was a silent one. Sequoia never had anything to say, even if his son, the newly named Charles Dickens, was born an intellect. Sequoia’s knowledge was purely physical.
Once they reached the shop, Sequoia was ordered to wait, Homer only allowed the Shakespeare knowledge of trade through the sacred book; The Merchant of Venice.
Knocking lightly on the door Shakespeare was greeted by the rounded face of Cadbury, the head of the shopkeeper tribe. He ushered Shakespeare inside.
The shop was well made and a lot cleaner than the library, the shelves ran along the edges of the rooms and stocked all kinds of bottles and baskets. On a plinth in one corner stood two books, one on herbal medicine and one on farming, given by the original founders of the librarian tribe as a symbol of their alliance.
The centre of the shop floor had been removed and traded for the glass in the library, to replace the shop’s roof. On the floor now stood a large patch of mud covered with lush green plants, and around the edge of the allotment were piles of blankets where the shopkeepers slept.
Sequoia entered on command, handing the trunk of water and gathered kindling to the shopkeeper Walkers, and was handed a couple of bottles of healant, a herbal pain relief, and vegetables in return. He retreated outside again to wait.
Cadbury was a short and stocky man, he had an extra finger on each hand that made him more dextrous than the librarians and therefore a better farmer. The shop’s shelves had been stripped years ago, with the riots of the war, but when they had found seed packets for sale at the back of the shop, they had quickly become adept at farming with the help of the librarians’ donated books. The shopkeepers had lined their walls with colourful documents supporting various images that the librarians couldn’t understand. The images contained words such a ‘snickers’ and ‘vanish’ which the tribe named themselves after.
The shopkeepers relied on the librarians for water, and the librarians relied on them for food. It was a partnership that had worked for generations, but that was about to change.
In his free time, Shakespeare had been consulting his private study of books and one, gifted to him by Homer in his moment of need, had given him an idea. The yellow book, titled Genetics for Dummies, had sat untouched at the bottom of his stack for years until his bumbling son had knocked over the pile and revealed the book underneath.
“I needeth a woman of wit, will thou tradeth for a wife? I am laughable, my tribe genes are flawed. I need a son of intellect, not a lennie. Doth thou hasn’t any women?”
Cadbury took a moment, he had been in power for a few years so understood the librarian’s speech. The shopkeeper’s own language was more pre-winter, but as the generations passed, they had been adopting more and more terms from their allies. Cadbury wasn’t sure what genes were, though, so he found himself confused and reluctant to give away one of his women to the librarians. They usually kept themselves separate, other than for the daily trade.
“Why should I give thou a mistress?” Cadbury questioned suspiciously. Walkers had returned to his leader’s side, wary of the broken peace.
Over the years the librarians had become frustrated that they couldn’t convince the shopkeepers to believe in the great god Homer. They had tried, delivering them gifts such as patchwork clothes and lennie books. However, the shopkeepers insisted in their belief in the deity Williams, a god who had placed his name above the door of their home and watched over their agriculture. Because of this, the shopkeepers had become very wary about any trade that the librarians offered other than their usual water and kindling. They believed that each offer of extra trade was an attack on their god.
“For thou, in return, I will gift my eldest son Fitzgerald!” the librarian said proudly. To rid himself of his embarrassing son for the chance of bear an intellect, sounded like a good deal to him.
Cadbury paused, thinking it over, it didn’t sound like a challenge against his beloved Williams. He still didn’t understand the reasons behind it all, but his middle daughter was still yet to be wed and they were running short on husbands. He didn’t recognise it, but his tribe had also been suffering from their limited gene pool.
Calling for his wife, Persil, he discussed options with her.
“If’t be true we giveth thee our daughter for thy son, then thou must never offer thee faithless opinions about Homer to us again?”
Shakespeare thought about the offer for a moment.
“And thee will continueth to trade vegetables and healant to us?” he questioned.
Cadbury paused.
“Thou has’t a deal” he took Shakespeare’s hand and shook it.
The librarians had to return straight after the deal was done, as the skies grew darker and the temperature dropped below freezing.

The next morning came around and Shakespeare raised Fitzgerald from his bed and led him outside.
The crow with two and a half eyes, sat on the roof of the library, it cawed at the two men below before taking off in fright.
Cadbury met the two men in the middle of the street, he had two women flanking him. One was young with red hair, the other was Shakespeare’s age. The road crumbled under his feet when Shakespeare came to a halt, dry thistle plants tickling at his ankles.
“Thou son for my daughter?” Cadbury smiled.
“Aye,” Shakespeare nodded then shook his allies’ hand.
Fitzgerald looked at his father in a panic, he hadn’t known any of this. He wasn’t ready to leave home forever.
Shakespeare looked down at his lennie son and, grabbing the boy’s hand, he gave it to the young girl.
“We name you Heinz and you shall be wed to my youngest daughter Nescafé. Thou are now a member of the Shopkeeper tribe.” Cadbury announced, grabbing the boy’s bicep to make sure he couldn’t escape.
Cadbury then took the hand of his other daughter, her six fingers gripping a little too tight in fear of the strange man she was being traded to.
“Thou shall be wed to me, Shakespeare, as soon as my wife passes. Then thou shall be given the most graceful of titles; Jane Austen.” Shakespeare smiled at the girl who was the sole hope for his tribe’s future.
He took her mutated hand in his own and the deal was done.
It was a deal that some disliked and shunned, but it was a deal that would save the tribes in the future. Soon, it would become tradition and slowly the genes would merge to make one six-fingered, yellowed eyed, combined-race, educated by the pre-winter literary greats.

In that moment, as the two leaders stood hand in hand with their future, the gods looked down on their tribes and thick black rain started to fall through the clouds.
Inky droplets fell out of the sky and landed on the grubby skin of the people below. Washing away the grime of decades.
The rain fell for hours, flooding the frozen landscape with dusty water, and bringing life back to the land. After years of desert, the rains had come, and with it, the clouds dispersed and the sun fell on their faces, warming their souls for the first time in generations.
The crow landed on the redundant water well outside of the library. Its wings were soaked with the heavy rain as it caught an insect out of the air. Eating it’s fill it flew up into the blue skies and returned to its nest to roost.

 

International Woman’s Day

Sorry it’s a day late but I run out of time yesterday. Happy International Woman’s day!

We Can Do What We Want!

We can join the army, if we want.

We can learn physics, if we want.

We can build houses, if we want.

We can do what we want, if we want.

Our hands are as skilled as a man,

Our imagination is just as grand.

You try to pull us back,

But we won’t let you.

You try to hold us back,

But you won’t be able.

Men and women are the same,

And that is something you can’t change!

The Living Planet

This is my first assignment for my science fiction class. It has been graded and handed back so I am able to share it all with you now. I must give a content warning for some slightly disturbing scenes. You have been warned.

After five years of gradually decreasing speed, the spaceship, Aurora, finally paused just outside the solar system surrounding Kapteyn’s star.
When the pioneers launched into deep space at the speed of light, with the crew in stasis to conserve resources, the journey should have taken twelve years.
However, NASA had forgotten to take into account that the star had been steadily moving further from Earth. The information describing the nature of this subdwarf had been lost over two hundred years ago, in a crisis that shut down data systems for a good decade. No one had considered checking to see if the distance had changed since the disaster occurred, they never even contemplated that their data could be incorrect. Because of this, the explorers had been in space for over thirty years, the artificial navigation system recalibrating its course without a perception of the consequences.

Deep in the centre of the ship, The Commander’s nerve endings had started to wake up. Liquid oxygen drained from the Cryochamber and tentatively her heart began to pump again. Her organs doing the job intended for the first time since she left Earth. Heaters blasted around her body, warming it from its previous state of -180oC. Injections pulled out of the back of her skull where they had administered her a shot of miconazole and clobetasol to wake her from her ancient sleep. The medicine began to push the growth of stem cells in her brain, repairing the damage inflicted by her time in ice.
The rest of the crew began to wake up. The pneumatic lids lifting off their pods, allowing their consciousness to be returned to them. The Commander, Captain Essie Green, was chosen to lead the mission due to her stubborn and determined personality. However, as soon as she stood up to leave her pod, she couldn’t manage it.
Something was wrong.
Her left foot had remained numb, hanging limply at the end of her leg. The skin, a slight shade of blue, turning blacker by the minute. Frostbite. Before she had a chance to react, her foot began to crumble. The skin and bones dissolving as if the foot had once belonged to Tutankhamun.
All over the chamber, the crew were attempting to rise.
The Pilot, Cyrus Laughton, had collapsed in exhaustion onto his back after retching unsuccessfully for over five minutes.
Second in Command, Luis Hoffman, was screaming, the fingers on both hands cramping at an unnatural angle.
The technician Alex, had stood up only to discover the still body in the pod next to hers. The grey form of a woman that was once their resident doctor.
Something had gone very wrong.
Commander Green, gulped down her pain, trying to stem her panic. Somehow she managed to scramble out of her pod and into one of the med chairs in the middle of the room.
Pulling a computer down from above her head she typed in a command. A robot arm stretched out towards her blackened stump, 3D printing a prosthetic foot to replace the missing limb. While she waited, she received a shot of pain relief and antibiotics, contemplating what could have gone wrong, and how to help her hysterical crew.
As soon as the robot had finished, she tried to help where she could. She dealt out jumpsuits and blankets, placing those who needed help in a med chair and calming the panic that consumed the others.
Last she visited the bed of the doctor, Gemma McGinley. Carefully, she closed her friend’s eyelids. Trying to stop herself from dwelling on the memory of Gemma’s lifeless blue eyes. Eyes that had been so full of life, what felt like moments ago, but now resembling coloured glass.
Trying to battle her own emotions, the commander took the panel from the side of the pod and did a diagnostic. Gemma’s brain had failed to wake up with the others.
The Commander pushed down the lid, once again flooding Gemma’s pod with liquid Oxygen, encasing her friend’s body in ice. She deserved a proper burial back on Earth.
The rest of the crew were coming to terms with what had happened, their astronaut training taking over. Once the panic died down, they stopped at the kitchen to have a quick meal, but it wasn’t as enjoyable as they had hoped. Their first meal in decades, but it was a sombre affair of lukewarm ration packs, in an atmosphere shadowed with a death.
After the meal, they piled into the command centre. Essie flicked the switch on her coms.
“Cyrus check our coordinates on the map. Luis, establish the connection with NASA. Alex, make sure that the water reclaimer and oxygen levels are stable.” She gave the brief commands while loading the ship’s flight diagnostics on her own computer.
They set to work, but it wasn’t long until the commander got the news she was dreading. Cyrus placed his headphones around his neck and switched off his coms, his expression dark. This was for the captain’s ears only.
“Commander, our journey has taken twenty-eight years longer than expected… We have been in stasis for thirty-eight days…”
He trailed off, but the commander knew what he was trying to say. They couldn’t go home.
The body can survive in stasis for fifty years, at most, before the brain just fails to wake up. The crew couldn’t afford to be refrozen, especially since there had already been one fatality. To make matters worse, they only had enough resources for a three-year trip, nowhere near enough to sustain the whole crew for a return journey outside the ice.
They had been cut off from the Earth forever.
To make matters worse, Luis soon reported that he couldn’t get a reply from NASA. They had flown too far out of reach of the satellite communication systems back at home.
The commander didn’t take the time to process the news herself, before breaking the news to her team. They all took it rough, they couldn’t not, they all felt the loss of their home planet in the depths of their soul, and their days were now numbered.
Luckily, they were astronauts, and astronauts didn’t give up that easily.

They took some time to come to terms with their fate, but it wasn’t long before they set to work, rationing supplies and coming up with ways to increase their lifespan on the ship. Through careful planning, they managed to salvage an extra two years for the ship. It was not enough to get home, but enough to give them time to find a more permanent solution.
The crew gathered at the observation desk and looked out at the star. The pulsing red sun was easy enough to identify, beautiful, but smaller than our own sun and a lot cooler. There were two planets in orbit around the sun, Kapteyn B and Kapteyn C.
Kapteyn C orbited too far from the habitable zone to be of any interest, but Kapteyn B was another matter entirely. It was the reason for their trip in the first place, a promising exoplanet of earth size, orbiting in the habitable zone of its star.
The only way to reach the star and conserve resources at the same time was to land the space ship onto the planet’s surface. An irreversible feat.
Once landed, they will be unable lift themselves into orbit again, but after a day of deliberating, the crew agreed to attempt it. It was their only chance.
The crew had one last meal together on the ship. They cooked up the sachets in the kitchen which were meant to be reserved for thanksgiving and reminisced about the life that they were all having to leave behind.
Luis decided to turn on the television and put on a Planet Earth box set, as a way to give thanks to the planet that had sustained them until now. But, after half an hour of David Attenborough’s stunning scenery and descriptions of dolphins, sharks and the humble pilot fish, they all began to miss home too much. The reality of their destiny becoming opaque. The captain sent them all to bed before anyone gave up on themselves completely, the task ahead wasn’t going to be easy.

The next morning, they fired up their blasters and lowered Aurora onto the surface of the new planet. They gave Kapteyn B a new name, ‘Pandora’, and started a calendar for their new colony, beginning at day one.
As soon as they arrived, they set up camp. The technician stripped the solar panels from the surface lander which, in normal circumstances would have taken them on their EVAs, and rigged them outside to boost their energy supply.
But by their tenth day, mysterious things began to happen.
The crew carried on with their tasks as well as they could, expanding the time they could survive on the planet little by little.
The first thing to change was the gravity. Pandora’s gravity was once 1.7 times stronger than Earth’s. But slowly, it reduced to 8.807 m/s2. Slightly less than the Earth’s pull. It made the crew even more comfortable than they had been at home. Their body mass less of a strain on their energy.
By the twenty-fifth day, the temperature began to rise. It was only one degree a day, but enough that they didn’t need heaters by day seventy-five. The astronauts couldn’t explain the changes, but it made their work easier.
After Pandora warmed, CO2 levels rose suddenly. The planet’s icy lakes began to melt. It was so gradual that it wasn’t noticeable at first, but the sound of cracking ice was soon unmistakable. By the one-hundredth day, they had fresh, running water.
The team grew hope, it was as if something, or someone, was looking out for them.
The captain, a botanist by trade, added the water to the Pandoran soil, but nothing grew due to the lack of nutrients in the mud. However, as if someone had heard their prayers, by day one hundred and thirty, various minerals appeared on the soil tests. She didn’t recognise any of them, they were all alien, but healthy saplings began to grow anyway. Filling the barren wasteland with the green of Earth.
The crew were wary about eating the plants in case the minerals had adverse effects, but for the first time since they landed on Pandora, they could enjoy a proper meal.
The plants had another positive effect, they began converting the abundant CO2 into Oxygen. When the crew first noticed the habitable levels of O2 they couldn’t believe their luck.
It wasn’t until their brave, and potentially stupid, second in command removed his helmet and took a breath, that they dared to believe it.

Ever since the first day the planet began to change, strange markings appeared around their ship. They set up cameras to try and catch the culprit, but each day they had nothing to show. The symbols, appearing on their own as if by magic.
By day two-hundred, the four astronauts were convinced that Pandora had been harbouring an intelligent lifeform all along, and they were determined to find out who. They set to work making a satellite, which they launched into space with the last of their rocket fuel.
No one could have predicted what the satellite discovered up there, in the emptiness of space. Even to a team of explorers who were now accustomed to strange phenomena.
On the surface below, the crew watched the satellite swing around the side of Pandora, when the surface rippled. Like a wave, crashing across an ocean, an eyelid, larger than the United States, peeled back to reveal an intelligent orb.
The humans could not comprehend what they saw, the ‘eye’ coloured with hues not visible to them. Slowly, but surely, Pandora blinked. The pupil swivelling to look into the lens of the satellite’s camera.
Kapteyn B was, in fact, an extremophile, feeding off the sun’s radiation. It was so large that it had been easily mistaken for an exoplanet.
Pandora had been existing in a deep sleep, waiting for a symbiotic partner to awaken it, so it can continue on its journeys through space.
As soon as the humans had landed, Pandora had given them a reason to stay.
With a lurch, it unfolded a large cosmic tail and sailed into the depths of deep space.
The earthen colony thrived in their protector’s embrace, and in return, the humans rid Pandora of any parasites that happened to land on the extremophile’s skin.
A perfect co-existence, like that of the shark and the pilot fish in the oceans of Earth.

Plan With Me! (Student Bullet Journaling)

Hi! Today we are going to be doing something very different from my usual posts. For three months now I have been a bullet journalist and I have seen people doing posts like this before so I thought I would give it a go. Today, I thought I would share with you how I plan my Monthly and Weekly in my Bullet Journal, as it is nearly March soon.

Using Youtube and Pinterest I combined various ideas to find a way of planning which fitted my role as a student but also fitted my life outside of university.

The biggest influence on my planning style has to be Caitlin’s Corner on Youtube, so some of the credit goes to her.

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When I begin planning my Monthly and Weekly I make sure to spare:

1 Page as a Title Page.

2 Pages for my Monthly and Tracker.

2 Pages for the Weekly

And finally one page for memories.

You will need a set of black pens, felt tips, washi tape and a ruler. Links to the specifics that I used are in the text below.

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I start by taking the first blank page and making it into a Title Page.

I start by choosing a picture on the internet that represents that month and then I print it out. I always print the picture through my phone as it comes out the perfect size, but If you can’t do that you can always print it in A5 and trim the edges.

I then tape the image onto the blank page with a decorative Washi Tape before taking my Faber-Castell Pitt Artist pen in Bold and writing the month on the printed background. (Using Washi Tape to line the edges of the image you stuck down also helps to cover any wonky cutting, which is an added bonus!)

I then choose another themed Washi Tape and use it to line the edge of the page, folding it over the edges to make a border that can be seen when the journal is closed. This makes the month easier to find later on. Personally, I like this Flower Printed Washi Tape to line the edges and this Coloured Washi Tape to stick the image down. However, there are lots of other options that you can find in craft stores or on Amazon.

Image may contain: plant and outdoor

 

I then move onto creating my Monthly.

I take two pages for my Monthly, the first is the page with the Washi Tape folded over the edge, from the title page earlier. I turn this page on its side and use it as the calendar, with the Washi Taped edge at the top of the paper.

I take a look at the calendar format for the month and copy it down into the journal.I place this calendar at the top left of my page and I make sure to leave enough space for each day so I can write one or two main events.

Underneath I write the month in a coloured STABILO Felt-Tip.

To the right of the Calender I draw a virticle line down the page and title this space Tasks. This is where I write all of the important tasks I have to remember to do in the month such as an Essay that needs completing or a book that I really want to finish reading.

On the second page reserved for my Monthly I create my Tracker. 

For this, I take my Pitt-Artist pen and create a graph with the title of the thing I want to track in the first box (leaving extra space here for longer words). I then use one square per day and list all of the numbers at the top.

You then fill each box with a coloured pen if you complete the thing you are tracking on that day.

Personally, as an example, I like to track how often I drive, How often I read a book or watch a movie and how often I have a take-out meal etc. But you can track whatever you want here.

I actually find the tracking the best part about Bullet journaling as I have always been a lover of lists and charts. It has become a ritual for me to spend twenty minutes or so each night before I got to sleep planning for the next day and filling out all of my lists and trackers. You can find some of my other lists and tracker pages on my Instagram account: @Olympus95 but I will be making a post about trackers and lists here soon.

Below I have posted a computerised version of my monthly and tracker that you can print out and stick in your own journal, or use as an example of how to creating your own.

monthly

tracker

 

The next two pages in your journal are going to be your Weekly. I lay mine out with plenty of space to track my tasks each day and my week’s readings for my course. But, you can adapt it to suit your needs of course.

On the left page, I start by leaving a small gap at the top for the Week and Month Title (For example; WK 1-7 MAR) then I divide the rest of the page into a graph. The first box of the graph can be slightly smaller than the rest as this is just for your labels. However I then divide the rest of the page into seven vertical boxes, all of equal size as I do as much work at the weekend as the rest of the week, but if you don’t you could always create Saturday and Sunday smaller to give you more room to plan the working days.

The first box of the graph can be slightly smaller than the rest as this is just for your labels (DATE, TASKS, SLEEP, EVENTS). However, I then divide the rest of the page into seven vertical boxes, all of equal size. I personally do as much at the weekend as the rest of the week, but you could always create Saturday and Sunday smaller to give you more room to plan the working days.

I then split the page horizontally with four lines. The first row of boxes will be small as they only need a number (the date) and a letter (the day) in them. I split the rest of the page in half. The left will be your tasks, and the right will be events. (

I split the rest of the page in half. The left will be your tasks, and the right will be events. (If you want to know more about how to start a bullet journal and the basic rules of planning I will be making a post about that soon too). I always take on

I always make a column one square wide in the middle of Tasks and Events to create a sleep tracker (see image below) which I colour depending on how much sleep I have had.

Finally, on this side of the page I will draw 6 cirlces in the left corner of the event box (see image below). This I use to track my daily water intake (you can add more or less circles depending on your needs). I colour them in each time I have a drink. Personally, I need more space for tasks than events, that is why I have the H2O tracker where it is, but you could always move it.

weekly

I know my layout for my weekly is pretty bland and basic, but I do this to keep things more simple when I have less time in the academic months. I tend to brighten it all up with pens as I go along, using bright colours to tick off the days and fill in the sleep and water trackers.

The next side of the page I will use to plan the rest of the things I include in my Weekly that do not fit in the calendar side of the planner.

I start by squaring off about a quarter of the page with a horizontal line. I will use this space to keep track of my readings for my course (which I definatly have a lot of). I then divide the rest of the page in half.

I then divide the rest of the page in half.

On the left of the page I divide the page into seven squares with two columns, leaving a small gap at the bottom. I use this to track gratitude. I have always had a problem trying to think positivly when I am too stressed with my workload so by writing something I am grateful for each day gives me a chance to try and look at the positives in my life. My only advice is to keep your space limited, the gratitude tracker has to be something that you can jot down quickly, you don’t want to spend all day filling out your bullet journal. I personally leave four dots for each day and that seems to be the perfect size for me. I can include detail, but I can’t overwrite.

The space I told you to leave at the bottom is just for jotting down a note about any Essays or Exams you may have to hand in or start preparing for that week.

The right hand side of the page I divide into three same sized boxes. The top box I use to write down any TV shows that are returning that week, Movies that I plan to watch, record or buy on DVD and any cinema releases that I don’t want to miss. I am a little bit of a screen addict so this box is great to keep me organised each week, but if you are not a great TV Watcher, feel free to replace it with whatever hobby you are interested in keeping up with. The middle box I use for notes, anything that I need to remeber or can’t fit anywhere else. Finally the last box at the bottom I use to note anything I need to remember to do next week. I then transfer everything in this box to the next weekly each Sunday.

The top box I use to write down any TV shows that are returning that week, Movies that I plan to watch, record or buy on DVD and any cinema releases that I don’t want to miss. I am a little bit of a screen addict so this box is great to keep me organised each week, but if you are not a great screen watcher, feel free to replace it with whatever hobby you are interested in keeping up with. The middle box I use for notes, anything that I need to

The middle box I use for notes, anything that I need to remember or can’t fit anywhere else.

Finally the last box at the bottom I use to note anything I need to remember to do next week. I then transfer everything in this box into the next Weekly. I take time out to do this every Sunday.

weekly-2

When I do my Weekly I like to make sure I start on a Monday if I can. So, if we use March as an example; I will only do 5 days in my first Weekly (Wednesday 1st – Sunday 5th) so the next four weeks can all begin on a Monday. This makes things simpler for when it comes to keeping track of my university work and deadlines.

Finally, I take the last page after all the Weeklys are planned for the month and title this as Memories. I tend to do a small doodle and write a short scentence for everything I do not want to forget that has occured in the month. I usualy date each entry so I remember which days they occured on too. This page is fun to look back on over time, to reminisce about those unforgettable days.

~*~

I hope you have all found this post interesting. It is my first time blogging about Bullet Journaling. If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask in the comments below.

In the future I am planning to make three more blog posts about Bulleting:

  • I am going to make a ‘Bullet for Beginners’ post with instructions on how to start a journal and get in a habit of using it to plan your life.
  • I am going to make a post describing all of the trackers and list pages I have in my bullet journal so hopefully, you will be able to use them to inspire your own.
  • And Finally I will be doing an out-of-school plan with me. I will be finishing University in May for the summer so I will need a new layout for my Journal. One that isn’t designed primarily for keeping track of readings, essays and assignments. Once I have worked out what this layout will look like, I will post another ‘plan with me’ like this one, because all students get a summer holiday at some point.

Let me know in the comments below if there is anything else you would like to learn and I will see what I can do about creating a post for that too.

Here is a link to the original bullet journalist Ryder Carroll, who I owe all of this to; http://bulletjournal.com/

To the Muses

Oh, Calliope, you lent him your spirit,

Your beauty, your talent, your voice.

I wish you could have given me bravery.

 

Oh, Polymnia, you lent him your spirit,

Your wisdom, your thoughts, your speech,

I wish you could have given me warning.

 

Oh, Erato, you lent us your love.

Oh, Clio, you lent us your romance.

But I wish you hadn’t bothered.

 

Oh, Melpomene, I blame you.

His voice, his thoughts, his beauty,

a dagger in my side.

 

Oh, Thalia, he stole your mask of comedy,

It made the relationship. And broke it.

The mask became our curse.

 

Oh, Melpomene, you gave me sadness.

Oh, Melpomene, I feel doomed.

Oh, Melpomene, remove my madness.

 

There is little more I can bear.

What once was loved, is hated.

Oh, Meme,

Remove my memories,

Remove my pain,

I can’t take it anymore.

Butterflies

My heart falters, a wave unsure on whether to crest. I remember the last time I was with you, it was days ago, but it feels like hours.

I’m confused, but your warm eyes settle me. I sink into them and wish to drown rapidly. I decide that I never want to escape them.

Butterflies take flight within me, their soft wings brushing against my heart as my skin trembles unconsciously.

Your language steadies me, words pure and elegant but never failing to make me laugh and to give me hope.

A smile warm and imperfect, not always there without me, but always present beside me. There’s no purpose without your smile, my world is colourless when you are not around.

The relief that washes over me when I see you again is as welcome as the spring rains. The butterflies taking flight trailing a golden blaze behind them.

The horizon defies me, the future out of the reach of my outstretched arms. I don’t want this feeling to end, yet I am scared it will, as it always does.

The future may be uncertain, but the fact that I love you is an ever increasing fixed point.

And the fact that you love me, even through the broken remains of your heart, is unquestionable.