Let me sweep you up, my love, and fill you with joy.
Don't hide your face because there's no need to be coy.
We have this moment, this place, this time.
I know I am yours and you are forever mine.
Let's sit and talk and watch the world float by,
We can ignore the stresses and need to 'try.'
We have this moment, this place, this time,
I know I am yours and you are forever mine.
Let's laugh at the silly things only we understand,
I'll kiss your neck and absently caress your hand.
We have this moment, this place, this time,
I know I am yours and you are forever mine.
We share this moment. We share this time.
I gaze into your eyes and know it's fine.
We share this moment. We share this time.
I am always yours. Promise to be mine.
Thursday, 26 May 2011
Wednesday, 25 May 2011
The First Chapter
I'm writing a book. This is the first chapter. Let me know what you think. Peace. x
It’s a weird sensation when you cut yourself. You know it’s a silly thing to do. You know people would freak out if they saw you doing it. The thing is, it feels so right. It physically manifests so much of what you emotionally cannot connect with. My brain is emotionally bleeding. I’m broken and bruised. I am worn down and weary. I am shattered like a mirror on the floor. I see myself as fractured and incoherent. Only able to catch a glimpse of myself in all the pieces. The darkness seeps in like ink in water. It slowly clouds over, taking away all the light.
My Intruder laughs at my despair.
So when I am cutting myself I can see the result of the mental anguish I feel. I deserve this pain. I deserve the scars and the blood to leave my body. I don’t want your pity. I don’t want your sympathy. I do this because I wish myself harm. I don’t wish for attention. If I did then I would call someone, I would announce on Facebook what I was doing. No, you won’t know I’m doing it. I will wear long sleeves and when will you see the cuts on my stomach? If you do see the marks, I can make excuses. I have a cat, he scratched me. Simple.
What, you think the darkness is just ‘in my mind’? Fuck you. Let me give you my Intruder for a day and then we’ll see how cynical you are. Let me give my Intruder the keys to your mind and we’ll see how long it takes before you want to wipe your life from this place we call Earth. My Intruder is a nasty beast. He delights in my despair. Televangelists would love to try and exorcise me.
The Intruder.
He points out the obviously true, but manages to put a little twist on it. Very subtle and very effective. The Intruder would be a brilliant spin doctor. I am small framed and thin. The Intruder would say, “Skinny.” He would also point out my past nickname of “Mowgli.” Subtle but effective you see. Suddenly I’m not simply thin, I am a skinny caricature who looks like that kid from The Jungle Book. Now my self-esteem is plummeting faster than a shooting star.
He reminds me each day of my failures. The jobs I didn’t get. The girls who rejected me. The friendships that failed. The loneliness it feels to be me. The life I wish for but never seem to achieve.
The Intruder.
Hi, my name’s Red and welcome to my seemingly eternal battle with The Intruder. He will tell you things, but please don’t believe him. He lies about lies. Yes he tells the truth too, but it’s a version of the truth. He’ll turn you against me, but please come back to me.
Walk this journey with me.
It’s a weird sensation when you cut yourself. You know it’s a silly thing to do. You know people would freak out if they saw you doing it. The thing is, it feels so right. It physically manifests so much of what you emotionally cannot connect with. My brain is emotionally bleeding. I’m broken and bruised. I am worn down and weary. I am shattered like a mirror on the floor. I see myself as fractured and incoherent. Only able to catch a glimpse of myself in all the pieces. The darkness seeps in like ink in water. It slowly clouds over, taking away all the light.
My Intruder laughs at my despair.
So when I am cutting myself I can see the result of the mental anguish I feel. I deserve this pain. I deserve the scars and the blood to leave my body. I don’t want your pity. I don’t want your sympathy. I do this because I wish myself harm. I don’t wish for attention. If I did then I would call someone, I would announce on Facebook what I was doing. No, you won’t know I’m doing it. I will wear long sleeves and when will you see the cuts on my stomach? If you do see the marks, I can make excuses. I have a cat, he scratched me. Simple.
What, you think the darkness is just ‘in my mind’? Fuck you. Let me give you my Intruder for a day and then we’ll see how cynical you are. Let me give my Intruder the keys to your mind and we’ll see how long it takes before you want to wipe your life from this place we call Earth. My Intruder is a nasty beast. He delights in my despair. Televangelists would love to try and exorcise me.
The Intruder.
He points out the obviously true, but manages to put a little twist on it. Very subtle and very effective. The Intruder would be a brilliant spin doctor. I am small framed and thin. The Intruder would say, “Skinny.” He would also point out my past nickname of “Mowgli.” Subtle but effective you see. Suddenly I’m not simply thin, I am a skinny caricature who looks like that kid from The Jungle Book. Now my self-esteem is plummeting faster than a shooting star.
He reminds me each day of my failures. The jobs I didn’t get. The girls who rejected me. The friendships that failed. The loneliness it feels to be me. The life I wish for but never seem to achieve.
The Intruder.
Hi, my name’s Red and welcome to my seemingly eternal battle with The Intruder. He will tell you things, but please don’t believe him. He lies about lies. Yes he tells the truth too, but it’s a version of the truth. He’ll turn you against me, but please come back to me.
Walk this journey with me.
I Want to...
I want to take your pain away. I want to wrap it up, place it in a box and send it to the depths of the ocean. I want to see you smile, not cry. I want that face to beam with joy and your eyes sparkle. I want to be able to stitch your heart back together. I know it will mend one day. I wish I could mend it for you today.
I cannot do these things though, but I will still be here. I will stand here beside you if you need me. I will be a source of strength when you are weak. You are not alone.
I cannot do these things though, but I will still be here. I will stand here beside you if you need me. I will be a source of strength when you are weak. You are not alone.
Tuesday, 24 May 2011
Collided Future
We can predict our days and weeks and months, but we should not be so arrogant. I had a good idea about how my week was going to go and then it all got flipped upside down, shaken around, wiggled and shaken again. So actually, I am now left feeling rather dazed and confused.
Am I prepared for the future? No. I am too involved in my own romantic fantasy. The reality hits me and it hurts bad. I want to hurt myself because I am so fucking ignorant to the realities of real life. I want something which only exists in the small frame of my mind. Honestly, who actually believes in the sweeping power of love? Who actually believes in the passing power of enchantment taking hold of you and grasping you and making your life something incredible?
I have seen my life today and realised I am living in a fantasy world. I saw something which could have been and, wowzers, it will never be. Ever. Ever.
I will not be defined by my disappointments. No.
Am I prepared for the future? No. I am too involved in my own romantic fantasy. The reality hits me and it hurts bad. I want to hurt myself because I am so fucking ignorant to the realities of real life. I want something which only exists in the small frame of my mind. Honestly, who actually believes in the sweeping power of love? Who actually believes in the passing power of enchantment taking hold of you and grasping you and making your life something incredible?
I have seen my life today and realised I am living in a fantasy world. I saw something which could have been and, wowzers, it will never be. Ever. Ever.
I will not be defined by my disappointments. No.
Sunday, 22 May 2011
Former Friendships. Current Resentments.
I saw a former friend earlier. We fell out last November. We passed each other at the shop; we didn't acknowledge each other. He hurt me last year. Physically and emotionally. When I saw him the emotions which came forth were pretty raw still. I actually felt resentment and disgust. Very strong emotions. I wanted to see him and feel indifference. A sense of being completely unfazed by his presence and no need to even spend time thinking about it.
In fact, I experienced severely negative thoughts where I didn't wish him well at all. I actually wished rather bad stuff upon his head. Not good and not helpful. Our lives no longer collide and there would be no reason why they would anymore. But, I actually found myself disgusted by his presence. Disgusted. I'm not using such a word glibly. I guess it reveals how hurt I am. He was my oldest friend of over 25 years. A hell of a legacy to see down the pan.
I'm not blameless by any means. I made choices which caused pain. It snowballed into other people's lives. But fuck, I'm still hurting over his choices and disregard for the years of friendship we once had.
It's not nice feeling this way.
In fact, I experienced severely negative thoughts where I didn't wish him well at all. I actually wished rather bad stuff upon his head. Not good and not helpful. Our lives no longer collide and there would be no reason why they would anymore. But, I actually found myself disgusted by his presence. Disgusted. I'm not using such a word glibly. I guess it reveals how hurt I am. He was my oldest friend of over 25 years. A hell of a legacy to see down the pan.
I'm not blameless by any means. I made choices which caused pain. It snowballed into other people's lives. But fuck, I'm still hurting over his choices and disregard for the years of friendship we once had.
It's not nice feeling this way.
Thursday, 19 May 2011
Etched on their Skin
My mum and dad have been married for 40 years this month. 40 years! They've been in a relationship for over 40 years. They've loved each other, hated each other, been indifferent to each other, tolerated each other.
They've been through bankruptcy, wealth, laughter, sadness, anger, joy, confusion. They've tried to have children and failed, but managed to adopt four children. They have had their house taken away, with only £500 to their name available, but still managed to make a family of six survive and be in a place of security and success.
I muse about love and its romanticism. I always will. My mum and dad aren't tactile. We don't hug often. I love to hug and kiss. I need physical interaction. I don't get that from my parents. But, I will always be amazed as to how mum and dad have survived as a couple through all the shit. Dad had a breakdown, he was suicidal. He lived in his office for months (literally) whilst we lived in another house. Mum never left him though; mum always had faith in him. They are a rock of a relationship. It's not pretty or romantic. It's not rose tinted. It's gritty, real and rather un-inspiring for the likes of us romantics.
It's grounded and rock-like though. It's stable and unflinching. It's not the relationship I'd ever want but by god, I admire the hell they've gone through.
Their history is etched on their skin and I love them for it.
They've been through bankruptcy, wealth, laughter, sadness, anger, joy, confusion. They've tried to have children and failed, but managed to adopt four children. They have had their house taken away, with only £500 to their name available, but still managed to make a family of six survive and be in a place of security and success.
I muse about love and its romanticism. I always will. My mum and dad aren't tactile. We don't hug often. I love to hug and kiss. I need physical interaction. I don't get that from my parents. But, I will always be amazed as to how mum and dad have survived as a couple through all the shit. Dad had a breakdown, he was suicidal. He lived in his office for months (literally) whilst we lived in another house. Mum never left him though; mum always had faith in him. They are a rock of a relationship. It's not pretty or romantic. It's not rose tinted. It's gritty, real and rather un-inspiring for the likes of us romantics.
It's grounded and rock-like though. It's stable and unflinching. It's not the relationship I'd ever want but by god, I admire the hell they've gone through.
Their history is etched on their skin and I love them for it.
Wednesday, 18 May 2011
Future Collision
We always collide with our future. Each day. Each hour. Each minute. Each second. We are walking into our future, never really knowing what each step may bring. We can guess, certainly. I will pick up my beer in a moment and take a swig. I will place the beer on the side and savour the fizzy sensation as the I swallow the drink. We will all be 'doing' things tomorrow and the next day, which is routine, normal and even banal. We are able to predict what our days and even weeks will look like.
The future can seem rather linear and predictable.
What if we we walked into our future and said, "What if?" What if we walked into our future, took it by the hand and said, "Let's dance to a different song?" What if we walked into our future and surprised it?
We don't need to think about changing the world, but changing our perceptions and, in turn, other people's perceptions. Our perceptions have so much influence. My perceptions deceive me. I don't hear from a friend for a few days and I worry I have said or done something wrong. My perception of myself causes paranoia and self deprecation. Your perception may involve anger responses or withdrawing responses.
Our perceptions can cause conditioned behaviours. What if we challenged our perceptions and walked into our future with open arms?
Sit somewhere different on the bus in the morning. Say "No," when someone asks if you're alright, instead of the usual, "I'm fine." Give your mum or dad a hug if you don't usually. Tell a stranger you love the colour of their eyes or the smell of their perfume.
Add some spice to your tomorrows. The small touches of seasoning bring out bigger flavours, which then become easier to swallow and soon you're feasting on a much larger future than you could ever imagine.
The future can seem rather linear and predictable.
What if we we walked into our future and said, "What if?" What if we walked into our future, took it by the hand and said, "Let's dance to a different song?" What if we walked into our future and surprised it?
We don't need to think about changing the world, but changing our perceptions and, in turn, other people's perceptions. Our perceptions have so much influence. My perceptions deceive me. I don't hear from a friend for a few days and I worry I have said or done something wrong. My perception of myself causes paranoia and self deprecation. Your perception may involve anger responses or withdrawing responses.
Our perceptions can cause conditioned behaviours. What if we challenged our perceptions and walked into our future with open arms?
Sit somewhere different on the bus in the morning. Say "No," when someone asks if you're alright, instead of the usual, "I'm fine." Give your mum or dad a hug if you don't usually. Tell a stranger you love the colour of their eyes or the smell of their perfume.
Add some spice to your tomorrows. The small touches of seasoning bring out bigger flavours, which then become easier to swallow and soon you're feasting on a much larger future than you could ever imagine.
Monday, 16 May 2011
The Tracks of my Tears
I cried twice yesterday. I haven't cried in a little while, so it was cathartic to cry. I cried for different but similar reasons. My first tears of the day were of joy. Joy in seeing others in love and joy in how wonderful it is when two hearts connect, when two people combine, when two people dance through life in time.
My other tears were tears of pain and sadness. I cried from losing the one you love and knowing you'll never be with that person again. I cried for the first time about it in ages. I thought no more tears would be shed. It was only a tiny thing, a small reminder - a fleeting memory. The mind is so powerful and evocative. It scares me at times.
But the tears were real and sad. Nostalgic tears would be a good description.
Amazing how the same physical reaction can be caused by opposing emotional reactions. Complete happiness and complete sadness show the tracks of my tears.
Sunday, 15 May 2011
Life is Fragile
My uncle is having to go through tests because he has fluid on his lungs. My mum's best friend is battling with cancer - such an inspiring woman. My dad has to have an operation on his knees - age is taking over his body. My twin bro is having tests because of a condition he's had for a while.
I am going under review with the doctor and my medication might be altered. I'm on 40mg of Citalopram a day, but it might be going up to 60mg.
Life is fragile. Life is not pretty at times. Life is like wading through water up to your chest and your footing is uneven and muddy. You can feel like if your take the wrong step your head will be underwater in moments. We all deal with what our bodies throw at us each day. Niggling aches, feeling 'not quite right' and then more serious ailments which can knock us for six. Life is fragile.
That fragility though brings forth so much love and compassion. From the pain comes astonishing care and support from others.
Life is fragile. I love though the vulnerability it brings. I love being vulnerable; it means I will embrace love and support from others, It means I won't be too proud to admit I can't do it alone. It means letting others into your life and having them share in your struggles and fears. It means you are willing to be held emotionally and physically. It means you find peace in the cradling arms of another. It means knowing you are not alone. Life is fragile, tough and relentless.
Life is fragile, but stunning.
Wednesday, 11 May 2011
It's a Manic World
If I wrote in the style of how my mind is currently operating.
It's my birthday in July and I am severely reflecting on my life and what it means in regards to identity and WHO I am. I will be 30 soon and it has caused a cascade of images from my past and how I responded to situations and how I behaved.
I'm rather manic. I'm rather hyperactive. I'm also like Icarus. Soaring close to the sun and then plunging, swiftly and perilously to the earth. My feathers scorch and the euphoria becomes bleakness and shame. Shame. What am I so ashamed of? My Intruder wants me to live in the past and reminds me of my irrational responses to situations. "You were so immature in that moment"; "So utterly unrealistic to have thought she would have wanted you, considering there's so much you need to sort out."
My Intruder also likes to point out I am nearly 30 and still dreaming and wandering through life. I will be divorced by the time my birthday hits (it's currently in the process); I am still astoundingly confused about the direction I should be going, in regards to my career, where I live and so forth. My world is fuzzy like an out of shot photo.
I get a burst of hope and then become a party animal over a few days. 'Life and soul' and all that crap. Then the pain hits and I want to crawl into the darkness.
It's a mad, mad world. The positivity in everything though is how determined I am to see my life at 30 as mesmerizing, momentous and transforming.
Peace. x
Iwouldbewritinglikethis.
It's my birthday in July and I am severely reflecting on my life and what it means in regards to identity and WHO I am. I will be 30 soon and it has caused a cascade of images from my past and how I responded to situations and how I behaved.
I'm rather manic. I'm rather hyperactive. I'm also like Icarus. Soaring close to the sun and then plunging, swiftly and perilously to the earth. My feathers scorch and the euphoria becomes bleakness and shame. Shame. What am I so ashamed of? My Intruder wants me to live in the past and reminds me of my irrational responses to situations. "You were so immature in that moment"; "So utterly unrealistic to have thought she would have wanted you, considering there's so much you need to sort out."
My Intruder also likes to point out I am nearly 30 and still dreaming and wandering through life. I will be divorced by the time my birthday hits (it's currently in the process); I am still astoundingly confused about the direction I should be going, in regards to my career, where I live and so forth. My world is fuzzy like an out of shot photo.
I get a burst of hope and then become a party animal over a few days. 'Life and soul' and all that crap. Then the pain hits and I want to crawl into the darkness.
It's a mad, mad world. The positivity in everything though is how determined I am to see my life at 30 as mesmerizing, momentous and transforming.
Peace. x
Thursday, 5 May 2011
Unconditional, Gritty Love
Unconditional love is brutal, messy, gritty, tough and uncompromising. Unconditional love means complete vulnerability and openness to absolute pain. Unconditional love does not flinch in the face of honesty, but rather embraces it and opens its eyes wide for the shards of emotional glass too, to fly in your face and tear your eyes to pieces.
My therapist said she was scared for me after I spoke about unconditional love. She was worried for me about the implications of how open I leave myself. She wondered if we need to guard ourselves, protect ourselves.
I see love as brutally beautiful; distinctly dangerous; enticingly enchanting. It's all or nothing for me. I will give my all, take the whirlwind and be carried away in its force until I am left battered, bruised and torn to pieces in its aftermath.
Unconditional love bleeds on you and leaves no room for sentimentality. Unconditional love is beautiful because it makes you dig deep into your scars and say, "This is me."
I don't care about social norms. I don't care about how we should live as drones in proper society. I will struggle my way through what is 'right' so I can love with no boundaries, no expectations and with absolute integrity.
My therapist said she was scared for me after I spoke about unconditional love. She was worried for me about the implications of how open I leave myself. She wondered if we need to guard ourselves, protect ourselves.
I see love as brutally beautiful; distinctly dangerous; enticingly enchanting. It's all or nothing for me. I will give my all, take the whirlwind and be carried away in its force until I am left battered, bruised and torn to pieces in its aftermath.
Unconditional love bleeds on you and leaves no room for sentimentality. Unconditional love is beautiful because it makes you dig deep into your scars and say, "This is me."
I don't care about social norms. I don't care about how we should live as drones in proper society. I will struggle my way through what is 'right' so I can love with no boundaries, no expectations and with absolute integrity.
Wednesday, 4 May 2011
Overcrowded Mind
Ever feel like your mind is overcrowded so you can't process thoughts? I couldn't sleep last night and an image ran through my mind. It was of me standing in a room which was overcrowded. I was trying to get past the people to get to the exit, but had to squeeze and barge my way through. I was unable find the way out though. I am sometimes overwhelmed with thoughts and ideas I can't find the right outlet.
It goes with my emotions too. As I sit here, I am bubbling with various emotions. Trying to focus them is a bit tricky. Love, restlessness, hope, doubt, pessimism, sadness, expectation. It's great to be human because we are all walking contradictions.
I'm not sorry for being rather intense at times and rather manic at others. I'm not sorry for thinking too much or over analyzing situations. I'm not sorry because it is what I naturally do and how my mind functions. I cannot sweep over a situation; I want to take in the details and the tiny pieces which make it whole.
It causes my mind to be jumbled, at times, but my god it helps my creativity.
Peace. x
It goes with my emotions too. As I sit here, I am bubbling with various emotions. Trying to focus them is a bit tricky. Love, restlessness, hope, doubt, pessimism, sadness, expectation. It's great to be human because we are all walking contradictions.
I'm not sorry for being rather intense at times and rather manic at others. I'm not sorry for thinking too much or over analyzing situations. I'm not sorry because it is what I naturally do and how my mind functions. I cannot sweep over a situation; I want to take in the details and the tiny pieces which make it whole.
It causes my mind to be jumbled, at times, but my god it helps my creativity.
Peace. x
Sunday, 1 May 2011
Forget Me Not
I haven't forgotten you; you are still in my thoughts, moving through my mind wistfully and wonderfully. How could I forget you or pretend you were never there? Life is but a moment made up of memories and memories of you compel me to be a better man.
I haven't forgotten you; I have simply found my life is journeying to place where we cannot walk together. We have clung on with our fingertips touching, but alas the winds of life have caused our grip to slip and the waters are taking us in different directions.
I haven't forgotten you; you have enriched my mind, my heart and my soul. I cannot forget you because you have made me part of who I am today. To forget you would be to deny myself. Would I look in the mirror and deny the image I see? Sometimes I would like to, but would that not be insanity?
I haven't forgotten you. Please don't forget me.
I haven't forgotten you; I have simply found my life is journeying to place where we cannot walk together. We have clung on with our fingertips touching, but alas the winds of life have caused our grip to slip and the waters are taking us in different directions.
I haven't forgotten you; you have enriched my mind, my heart and my soul. I cannot forget you because you have made me part of who I am today. To forget you would be to deny myself. Would I look in the mirror and deny the image I see? Sometimes I would like to, but would that not be insanity?
I haven't forgotten you. Please don't forget me.
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