My thumping heart resonates my whole body, as i scramble for the breathes that do not contain enough oxygen. Jagged hooks are pulling the insides of my throat towards my churning stomach. I stare at my computer screen and concentrate. Breathe in. Breathe out. Its all I can do too stop myself from jumping up and running from the room. it's all I can do to stop those tears from streaming from my eyes. To you I'm strong. I'm happy. My tears they will give away my guise. Traitors.
Thoughts of always being second choice. The consolation prize. The one who will make do because that one they really wanted wasn't interested. I want to be positive. I want to hope that one day I will the one who could possibly be someone's number one. But if the past is representative of the future, I will never make first place
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Monday, March 28, 2011
Light Pickings
I want to be perfect for you.
My hope sinks every time I realise that I will never even come close.
Then I realise, you are not perfect.
But I like you anyway.
My hope sinks every time I realise that I will never even come close.
Then I realise, you are not perfect.
But I like you anyway.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Todays Special
How does today feel? Like another big mess of thoughts and self oppression. So happy yet so bored. So content but full of self loathing. That itchy voice invading my peaceful swim telling me that I will never be good enough. That I will never compare. After all, who am I really?
I sit on the outside because I'm not entirely sure where I belong. The group that stays together that I will never really be a part of. But will I ever really belong? A glimpse of being a part of it, being accepted, but not really sure whether I am.
I'm not sure that I know how to belong.
I sit on the outside because I'm not entirely sure where I belong. The group that stays together that I will never really be a part of. But will I ever really belong? A glimpse of being a part of it, being accepted, but not really sure whether I am.
I'm not sure that I know how to belong.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
a taste tester
Life has been a never ending roller coaster of emotions and events, throughout which I have experimented with various form of chemicals to try to reign in the derailed train that is my mind.
Today is day one of a personal experiment and self observation. Fear and anxiety turns my stomach as anticipation of the following months paralyses my rationality. Torn by thoughts of losing everything and becoming lost in my self created nightmares, an empty vessel sailing crewless through the dark.
Maybe it will be different this time.........We'll see.
Today is day one of a personal experiment and self observation. Fear and anxiety turns my stomach as anticipation of the following months paralyses my rationality. Torn by thoughts of losing everything and becoming lost in my self created nightmares, an empty vessel sailing crewless through the dark.
Maybe it will be different this time.........We'll see.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Seasonal fruit
Moving through a time-lapse of hidden emotions to reveal a girl standing alone. The world rushes around her and its all too much to bare as the world, for this gentle soul, is so overwhelming.
Her downcast eyes ignore the reality happening around her as she battles with the emotions playing tug-o-war with her rationality. She moves without purpose. She exists today. Nothing more. That is all she is capable of.
Everything is going too well for her. Something has got to be wrong. She wants to hurt. She craves it. Such a familiar feeling that's easy to curl up with. She's uneasy when it's gone. She doesn't feel alive without the pain so she retreats into her head and analyses everything searching for the potential downfall.
That lovely sense of emptiness seeps from her every pore and in her moment of self inflicted turmoil she is completely unveiled and absolutely beautiful.
Her downcast eyes ignore the reality happening around her as she battles with the emotions playing tug-o-war with her rationality. She moves without purpose. She exists today. Nothing more. That is all she is capable of.
Everything is going too well for her. Something has got to be wrong. She wants to hurt. She craves it. Such a familiar feeling that's easy to curl up with. She's uneasy when it's gone. She doesn't feel alive without the pain so she retreats into her head and analyses everything searching for the potential downfall.
That lovely sense of emptiness seeps from her every pore and in her moment of self inflicted turmoil she is completely unveiled and absolutely beautiful.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Seared Hide
There are some people who roam this planet with out ever really understanding the other side of life. They have suffered all the usual heart aches. Cheating partners, back stabbing best friends, death of a loved one. But never have they seen the darkness that makes the down fallen so beautiful.
In saying this I don't mean that those who have not seen the darkness are not beautiful because most of them are. What I am saying is that there is a particular beauty for those who have crawled on their hands and knees through the bog. A bog that sometimes drags and consumes them so that they surrender and become nothing but a sad memory or a faded photograph with folded edges and tear stains.
Those who make it out the other side are scarred. However these scars do not disfigure them. The scars run thick through body memory and mind. The scars eat away a little at their insides every time life dishes out a plate of coal.
The down fallen are beautiful because of their strength. Because despite the fact that they feel as though they are bursting at the seams, they still get out of bed, they still offer you their smile. They still feign happiness to make sure that you are happy.
If you're really lucky, you might get a glimpse inside these stunning minds. If you're lucky. You might get to see into the soul of a person who had to pretend to be an adult way before their time and find that this person is still just a child, fabulous in all their simplicity and dying to be loved and protected. You may also see into the inner working of someone who seems so hard and worn and find, a soft person yearning to find the good in everything despite all the troubles that life has dealt them.
Unfortunately too many of the down fallen give up too soon. Unfortunately often other people don't ever offer the down fallen the patience to really get to know who they are. and perhaps see the beauty that pain can cause.
"As a torn paper might seal up its side,
Or a streak of water stitch itself to silk
And disappear, my wound has been my healing,
And I am made more beautiful by losses."
- 4 lines from a poem by Howard Moss
In saying this I don't mean that those who have not seen the darkness are not beautiful because most of them are. What I am saying is that there is a particular beauty for those who have crawled on their hands and knees through the bog. A bog that sometimes drags and consumes them so that they surrender and become nothing but a sad memory or a faded photograph with folded edges and tear stains.
Those who make it out the other side are scarred. However these scars do not disfigure them. The scars run thick through body memory and mind. The scars eat away a little at their insides every time life dishes out a plate of coal.
The down fallen are beautiful because of their strength. Because despite the fact that they feel as though they are bursting at the seams, they still get out of bed, they still offer you their smile. They still feign happiness to make sure that you are happy.
If you're really lucky, you might get a glimpse inside these stunning minds. If you're lucky. You might get to see into the soul of a person who had to pretend to be an adult way before their time and find that this person is still just a child, fabulous in all their simplicity and dying to be loved and protected. You may also see into the inner working of someone who seems so hard and worn and find, a soft person yearning to find the good in everything despite all the troubles that life has dealt them.
Unfortunately too many of the down fallen give up too soon. Unfortunately often other people don't ever offer the down fallen the patience to really get to know who they are. and perhaps see the beauty that pain can cause.
"As a torn paper might seal up its side,
Or a streak of water stitch itself to silk
And disappear, my wound has been my healing,
And I am made more beautiful by losses."
- 4 lines from a poem by Howard Moss
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