who am I??????????

Who am I? that is the question...........

We could and probably do spend a lifetime asking that question and come up with dozens of different answers.

As we get older do we get closer to finding the truth out about ourselves….

No

if anything thing I lose track of who I am, before I was just me, daughter, sister, then I became, girlfriend, wife mother.

Now divorce and single again, children grown up, I no longer have a place, so I don’t know who I am.

I am me, but who is me?

Private hell

My world a private hell, because I feel I am a public embarrassment.

 

Do we keep our feeling to ourselves, or as someone said recently, we turn conversations about ourselves.

Do we then in turn, push friends and relatives away with our constant self-indulgence about our woes and miserable persona?

Do we ever stop and listen to ourselves or do we listen to ourselves to much?

Is there enough time to in our worlds to create a peace, or do we criticise, beat ourselves up, look in the mirror and feel sick, disgusted by what we see?

Do we in turn listen to others? By this I mean when someone says this or that is good, do we believe them or do we simply think ‘they are just saying it to be polite’

We fall fowl of good intentions, our goals, hopes and dreams, then complain about lack of opportunity, but do we create that failure ourselves. 

You may think this is absolute gibberish or you may agree entirely, but one thing I do know, it's exactly how I feel.

Some days you know you are in the right place, everything goes like clockwork, other days the shoes don’t fit and everything goes wrong. But on the day where everything is fine are you like me, waiting for the axe to fall.

There is not enough time for good and bad to meet and create harmony, we can bore people with our constant whinging, negative attitude, but isn’t that the way we are. We do listen to others, but it is all too easy to say ‘it’s just like when or how I did’ thus becoming a self-proclaiming voice.
 

Some days you know you are in the right place, everything goes like clockwork, other days the shoes don’t fit and everything goes wrong. But on the day where everything is fine are you like me, waiting for the axe to fall.

There is not enough time for good and bad to meet and create harmony, we can bore people with our constant whinging, negative attitude, but isn’t that the way we are. We do listen to others, but it is all too easy to say ‘it’s just like when or how I did’ thus becoming a self-proclaiming voice.

Are we then an embarrassment to our friends, become a negative vampire to them.  

The guilt kicks in, we shut ourselves away, hiding behind closed doors or like me the computer screen.

My world a private hell, because I feel I am a public embarrassment.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My world a private hell, because I feel I am a public embarrassment.

Surface of reality

Hiding below the surface of reality

Having found refuge in the hands of fantasy
Illusion is what lies ahead
Stimulating my crazy head
The clock ticks as the time passes away
All I can think is you in my memory
In my soul you’ve been engraved, deep within
And keep you there, odd things between

Can’t seem to touch with my grasp

I can’t longer hold on with my clasp

It is strange you’re not so far
It is shows that you really are
Cool exterior is my false façade
Like a pompous admiration is what I hide
Can’t stop to think of you everyday
It turns out I am already in disarray
Your voice is like a gentle whisper
Your thoughts always made me wonder
Your smile if the curable answer
To all these things that makes me whimper

I am embrace with invisibility

I have this unnoticed agility
Invaded by hollowness
Torn asunder thoughts, its craziness
Sometimes I think you’re a mirage, an illusion
Ironically you have a different devotion
Don’t know when to get it all out in these walls
Confuse and sandwich still between truth and false

 

Drink me

There comes a point where the mask starts cracking.  Just a small crack at first, you inadvertently show a frown at the wrong moment, a self-pity phrase when someone asks you a question. Soon the wall gives way to your fatigue.  "You look tired."  "Why thank you."  At least you didn't tell me I look depressed. 

Then one night you're curled up on your bed listening to like-minded depressed individuals sing you songs and a tear slips and your roommate walks in before you have time to re stack the bricks.   "You okay?" "Oh, yeah.  Allergies.  Make my eyes tear." Sniff.  She buys it.  How could anyone buy that, you wonder?  Change the subject now, something cheerful.  You are relieved and terrified.  Terrified of having to do this forever, alone. 

It's exhausting just to think about it.  Curl up now, go to sleep.  Tomorrow will be better.  In the morning, your first thought is about how you feel.  The same.  Same as last night.  You reach for your mask but can't find it anywhere.  Wasn't it on the bedside table?  You're too tired to look for it and too tired to care.  You'll stay in bed today.  "Do you feel okay?" "Yeah, I think it's just some sort of stomach bug."   Oh good, I found it again.

One day you sleep the day through, hoping that you can continue to sleep through the night. The hours slip sluggishly by, you constantly look at the clock, talking to someone would  cheer you up, BUT there is no one there.

The mind fogs over, the words no longer drift in and out of your brain.  You stare at the TV screen, but can’t see what is there, because to you, its black, empty, silent 

It’s amazing how many times you can say “I’m just tired”…. No one takes any notice, till you take that step to the bottom of the hole you are dragged into.  The bottle on the table glares at you……………….

 

Drink me…… its calling out to you, in your despair…………………….

Take me …… The tablets appear to have written in tall red letters

Sleep, forget, forever….. Sleep……………………………………………………

You wonder... who will miss me, the friend that cries on your shoulder, but isn’t there for you

The neighbours who don’t even bother to say hi!

Your work mates who won’t have someone to do the work they won't or can't be bothered to do.

Sometimes we need to run way to see who is following, lock ourselves in the dark recesses of our mind.

It can be the loneliest feeling in the world. To find yourself standing up when everyone else is sitting down. To have everybody look at you and say "what's the matter with her?" I know what it feels like. Walking down an empty street, listening to the sound of your own footsteps. Shutters closed, blinds drawn, doors locked against you. And you aren't sure whether you're walking toward something, or if you're just walking away.  

Which is worse, to keep smiling pretending nothing is wrong, or crying alone in your room, still not knowing what is wrong. The feeling of isolation, desperation, screaming at the face in the mirror, give me an answer, tell me the truth.

But, you look at me and think, 'she's so happy' yet there's so much behind this little smile that you will never know.

Beneath the smile, my heart is crumbling, my bones are weakened, my whole body aches with pain and misery.

Yes I guess I am depressed, there I have said it………………….

I am depressed… help me find my smile, please…………..

 

 

writer, thinker, info junkie............

 

The written word fascinates me, the spoken word more so.

We write many things in our life time from the first time we write our name in shaky uneven letters, joining the dots to create the shape, to learning how to sign our name in the best handwritten way, to declaring our love in letters and breaking hearts in goodbye notes.

We write essays and exam papers, reports with long complicated words that we often don’t really understand.  The final act is writing our Last Will and Testament to leave our goods and chattel behind.

But we learn to talk before we can write, ‘mummy or daddy’ brings delight to our parents. We ask for simple things, a drink and a sweet.  Before long we are demanding attention, saying I want.  We yell and scream, we whisper, we sing, but how often do we sit in silence, with a blank piece of paper

Which is best, the written word or the spoken word.

They say a word spoken can’t be undone, but is that true?

Surely a written word can’t be undone or erased either.

Four things that you can never get back… the spoken word… your past life… wasted time… a neglected opportunity………… but what of the written word, can you get that back.

Think about this…. You send a text message, email or letter…. You know it was wrong, that it would upset and hurt someone. Can you then simply say ‘Sorry’ and take it back….

You can never get back the words you have spoken.  It is possible to “undo” some of the things you have done, by saying that word sorry - but you can never “unsay” the things you have said. 

Are spoken words more powerful, or it the written word just as potent?

Angry words are destructive, and untrue words so demoralising.  Kind and encouraging words such a healing comforting force.

When we talk are we not writing what we are saying on the hearts of the listener?  And once written, our words can never be erased.

Nowhere to go.. but inside my head

Every song has a memory; every song has the ability to make or break your heart, shut down the heart, and open your eyes, listen to your dreams.

I often wonder when someone writes a song, what are they thinking.

Not all songs are  happy love songs,many are about broken hearts, war, death, sadness and broken dreams. When they put words to music or down on paper, are they feeling that emotion, the anger, are they crying or are they laughing, smiling, even talking to someone else.

When I write, I am in the moment, often the thoughts in my head are going a high speed, but my fingers are typing at a much slower pace. Many mistakes are created and corrections have to be made, which in turn takes longer. So I will forget what I wanted to say, or it doesn't make sense.

The computer makes it so much easier to do this, I remember having to type on an old electric typewriter and the mistakes being 'tippexed' out, little white blobs on the sheet.  Being able to add in paragraphs or take out words with a tap of a key, copy and paste, ... wonderful.

But back to the writing.....

I set myself a task, write 1,000 words a night minimum, not that easy, the mind can go blank, and staring at the screen doesn't help. I am almost willing the words to appear....

I always keep a notebook with me, have loads around the house, in the car, in my handbag etc. Quite a collection of quotations, and lines from TV programmes and films I want to remember.

So many words.... so many thoughts............ where too from here

NO! NOT THAT WAY..................................

6 degrees of seperation

In a world of 6.6 billion people, it does seem hard to believe. The theory of six degrees of separation contends that, because we are all linked by chains of acquaintance, you are just six introductions away from any other person on the planet

Whoever you are, up, down, high, low,  rich or poor, we all know someone, who knows someone, who knows everybody on earth.

But the ugly truth is that some of us are not really connected at all…………

But how long can it last, till there is no more hassles, no more sleepless nights, no reasons to get up, no more crying.

Today could be the day

So how will it all end, what is the point?

Either 6 degrees or 1, how long have we got………..

The truth is I don’t know

Maybe someone will reach out in the darkness and takes your hand, and if they do

It feels good……….

 

 

The darkest night is often the bridge to the brightest tomorrow

Brittle life?

Life is so fragile we sometimes wrap it in tissue paper, like delicate china cups, but really it isn’t that brittle after all.

We are strong, we just don’t know it. We take the knocks and the upsets and when we can’t feel like there is no light at the end of the tunnel, somehow we know it’s still there, we just can’t see it. 

The cups bounce many times before they break, just as we do. Life creates many things we don’t want to face, love, heartache, illness, financial problems, and hatred. We look at them, and wonder what we need to do, we fear them, we embrace them, we try to elude them, and we even build brick walls around them.

Talking about things can help ease the pain involved, yet many shut themselves away, lock the door and suffer in silence.

Most of us take life for granted, we don't say thank you often or I love you.  We expect the ones we love to be alive in the morning when we wake up, but in all reality we don't know if they or we will be here anymore.  So when we say life is fragile, why don’t we do these things?

Life is fragile! Compared to eternity, this life is just like the blink of an eye. They say it’s not a rehearsal so why do we not live it to its fullest.  We don’t understand that is can stop in a spilt second, the spin of a coin, we expect it to continue tomorrow and the next day, into the next week and onwards.

 

Like the petals of a flower or the leaves on a tree, they fall and are quickly forgotten.

Yet, we watch the news, disconnected in our own lives at the fragility of life. We become unconscious of the world around us, almost glad that it's them and not us.

We’ve lost sight of everything that is simple, we are green with envy. We are greedy. We want more and more.

We are so caught up in the daily rat race, that we don’t often show appreciation and gratitude for what we DO have. We harp on what’s lacking, or what’s wrong. We take those we love and what we have for granted.

Life is fragile because illusions are fragile. When we rid ourselves of our illusions we are no longer walking on brittle glass. Do we live in a world of fantasy, do we live in a world of the media, the hype of a wonderful life that isn’t really there.

What is the truth, right or wrong, we all live our lives our way.

We must therefore live in the moment. Not in the past. Not in the future. In the here and Now….

The present…………………..

Brittle life, yes, let’s not forget, and stop wrapping it up in tissue paper, have it on show, for all to see.

Nil Satis isi optimin

 "nothing but the best is good enough"

Perfectionism, they say is a bad thing, but is is really. If we were uncaring, sloppy, creating rubbish work, not bothered folks would soon complain... RIGHT .. yep you agree? See I knew you would!
Is the line straight, or does it dip at one end, who notices.

Is it more perfect if its imperfect, life is imperfection.

Life is not black and white, it's grey, smudged at the edges. That's what makes it interesting.

Hangover - morning after

So much to do so little time
Sitting talking to myself in rhyme
Reason I can't understand the meaning
How thing's progress and where its leading
Answering the questions not making sense
Living in a world where it's all pretence
Fantasy is easy till reality knocks
Come on you stand up pull up your socks

Listen to your mother, what would she have said
Shake of these thoughts and get out of bed
The day is bright and frosty I know
And the weatherman says it may just snow
But round the corner the daffodils peak
Sun from the clouds is beginning to streak

So many dreams I have left to fulfill
Mountains to climb, well maybe just a hill
Money to make money to spend
People to meet just round the bend
Knowledge to seek so much to learn
Showing meaningful lessons of concern

But the beds so warm want to stay curled
Up under the covers not face the world
Telephone rings please go away
I'm not talking to anyone today
Please leave me alone don't need you to care
No coffee or tea break having to share

Oh no there's that reality again
Tapping at my frazzled brain
Post lands heavily on the mat
See I can't even forget about that
My eyelids are falling closing so tight
Feels to me like the middle of the night
Must have been all that wine I drank
Or was it the vodka and orange I sank
My head is pounding clock ticking so loud
All because I wanted to part of the crowd

But today I so want to be in my solitude
I really don't mean to sound so rude
Know I should get up and go to work
And face the demons that in there lurk
The shower beckons, I really should get in it
Oh I will but give me one more minute