I feel as if we get too caught up in our lives to realise the impact we have made on others lives, or the impact others have made on our own. The day to day requirements in which we desperately feel the need to complete in the briefest of times rush us to the point of stopping and relaxing, so much so we need to take holidays or vacations from our careers for extended periods of times. I never understood this concept; granted it is worthy for extended travels, yet for relaxation and simple relief from the ‘rat race of life’. I never quite grasped why simpler times could not exist even today, like they did decades before.
Instead of rushing from city to city closing business deals, I would have loved to have lived in a small town, needing only a bicycle, a top hat, and the daily paper - hosting real reporting instead of the unfiltered filth that infiltrates it today. Having no care but to finish the job at hand, using the mind and hands that you were born with; relying upon nothing but yourself, returning home to a family who held no struggles but the one of always increasing happiness. Spending weekends at home with the wife and children, extended family sharing moments and enjoying each others company rather than being separate, being able to enjoy a book by the fire in the study, rather than complaining about the current affairs and things out of your own hand and frankly will not even affect you.
Alas that time is gone, only to exist within memories and recreated throughout words on paper and the images of the past. Left to the people to make do with what they have.
Cést la vie.
I don’t know why I cannot sleep tonight, I’ve been trying for two hours unsuccessfully.
Things are good right now, they couldn’t improve much more, I’m on top of my studies, I have a trip to Africa booked for July, potentially a trip to NZ in December, and I have a hobby that is looking to be particularly personally rewarding to me.
So why am I not happy?
I just came across this post.
I think I know why now..
“I like drinking coffee alone and reading alone. I like riding the bus alone and walking home alone. It gives me time to think and set my mind free. I like eating alone and listening to music alone. But when I see a mother with her child, a girl with her lover, or a friend laughing with their best friend, I realize that even though I like being alone, I don’t fancy being lonely. The sky is beautiful, but the people are sad. I just need someone who won’t run away.”
I hate it when the chemistry between two people suddenly changes. No words are said, and no actions done, but things are just.. different. One moment I’d feel so close to you, and the next we’re complete strangers. I don’t get it. And to be honest, it’s irritating. I don’t know if I’ve done something wrong, or if you just feel differently all of a sudden. Am I supposed to compensate? Or just let you be? I’m not sure if I’m supposed to confront you or just let things progress as normal. What if there’s nothing wrong in the first place and I’m just over reacting? Being clingy isn’t exactly my specialty, but I don’t want to let you simply walk out of my life.
I just don’t know what to do.
I feel like i am neglecting the personal side of my blog… Whilst i have not been on to allow you to see a lot of personal side of me i feel like i haven’t been offering any at all into my life. Many of you still ask me if i am a guy or a girl… (For the record I am Male).
On top of all this i think today shall be my blogging day, where i set everything up.. i hope to set up an FAQ for you guys… just to make it easier and avoid the questions that i often get asked…
So i’m going to be more personal, it will be a challenge for me, and i still will not reveal everything.. I cannot do that for fear of being found.. hurting those that whilst deserved to be hurt, it’s not my duty to do so…
With that, i am off to have a shower, to think to what restraints i should blog…
I’m in the mood to write, but with no actual ideas…
I hate this part of life, where thoughts are motionless, stagnant in a pool of water, only collecting the spawn of mosquitoes…
I hate feeling filthy..
If you have ideas, let me know.
Edit: Sorry for the fail of grammar… the lack of commas are common amongst my splurges.. i shall be more careful.. but really cannot be bothered correcting them.
I am craving to write, to hear the scratching of the fountain pen against the paper where my thoughts, feelings and stories leave me, only to be imprinted forever as a different memory to that of my own.
These memories I can choose to relive or forget, to read, or watch as the paper slowly curls and turns to ash in the fireplace warming my soul…
These are the times where my thoughts are my enemies.. They say keep your friends close.. but your enemies closer.. There is no way for this to happen further, my thoughts plague me, bringing me ever so close to the darkness; it’s black fingers tracing outlines on my every neuron, enticing me to it’s irresistible realm where light no longer enters.
This is the horror I must face.
I pick up my weapon as I begin to scrawl, the battle may have just begun, but the war will always wage..
I can not win, I can only fight it.
You have less than two weeks to live.
My heart stopped, my mind shifting, no longer focusing on the present, yet to the full reality of this statement.
The doctor continued his explanation, yet i was not listening, i could not hear the details of the tragic truth of my newly found life. Staring at the poster behind the doctors balding, yet oddly shiny head. I saw a family, supposedly happy that their mother had been saved by the cervical cancer vaccine.
Yet nothing could stop mine, the doctor rambling on continuously, as if he enjoyed this part of the job, the words being unspoken yet thought with glee: I get to charge you for telling you all about your inevitable death in painful and most likely upsetting detail. He was a part of a capitalist society, sadistic to the bone.
*This story may affect some people emotionally. ‘Read More’ only if you are certain you are stable*
A sunset, a deep red sunset, shining against the clouds. Filling the sky with enormous rouge. We are relaxing, quietly, enjoying the moment on a hill in short deep green grass. The smell of lawn clippings in the air with a mixture of lavender and her soft scent of her favourite perfume. I look at her, analysing every small detail, absorbing it, her little perfections, an amazing person.
She laughs, her amazing laugh, so carefree, her hair flowing in the soft breeze, her eyes lit up with joy and happiness.
This is what it is like, love. This is what is like to know she’s the one.
The sun setting quickly, the hush hush hush of the waves sliding onto the sand below us.
The things i love.
I whisper sweet nothings, she giggles uncontrollably as my lips brush against her ears.
The sun now set, darkness, except for the lighthouse, continually pointing out the light within the darkness.
I can just see the small details of her face, she huddles closer for warmth.
I smile and pull her close.
Leaning in for the point of no return.
And that is what i dreamt of last night my dear.
She laughs, you’re such a romantic.
As she pulls me close.