Sunday, 23 November 2014

The Night, Talks.

Bed before ten, I try to make up for lost hours of sleep. I wake at 3:30am with the sudden urge to cry. As though I had slipped out of some tragic dream I cannot remember. A tear rolls wrong ways down my cheek, drips into my ear. "it's exactly what you think it is"
That song. The song I can't listen to again. Some part of me wants to play it.
But I've dissected the lyrics enough already. Enough already. Let it go.
Stop torturing yourself by hoping the truth is not the truth.
The house is empty. My stomach grumbles about being fed. So I eat cereal in the dark as I write.
In loneliness you get lost. When it bites, you think it has no end. That alone is all you will ever be.
Yet of course. Everything has an end...And alone is not always loneliness.
But in the midst of the night. In darkness, with rain falling against my window.
It feels like the only thing that exists.
And it swallows me whole.
 

Monday, 17 November 2014

September.

It is as though, I have turned around all of a sudden and become the woman- the grown up...I was always running from. Grown. At 32, more certain of all the things I want. Of the people who I love and of those ones who, regardless of how I love them - and no doubt will continue to, must be let go. I wonder what I have. This year...Ahh, this year has been,...so many things.
Hard ? I don't know that the word covers it - doesn't every year have hard parts for fucks sake?
...but this one, was hard in a way that cemented my adulthood firmly in place. So, this is what it is like?
...how old we thought this age was when we were smaller. This age, was teachers, and suits, and grey seriousness...Fucking hell, I never realised how awesome being a grown up would be.(And I always did like a nice suit..) That "adults" are just children playing at being what they think grown ups should be most of the time...How sorry I feel for those who shut that child out of themselves completely, pretend that it never existed at all. Let themselves rot into taxes and waiting for some imminent death.
But I am meandering...Regret. So adult a feeling. "I regret to inform you..."
Regrets, that I have never before allowed myself. (the big regrets...not those tiny ones like...I wish I hadn't eaten that entire tub of ice-cream...)
Because, regrets are things that are done. A regret, well...

 "Never look back unless you are planning to go that way." - Thoreau

Somehow, I always believe that everything is as it should be - no matter the beauty or the pain...
Everything needs to happen, everything must exist as it does. We must make mistakes. We must break. We must marvel in all the terrible realness of the world we live in, of the humans we are.
Go forward, and keep going. No matter what. But this emptiness...
I have been so far into the darkness, but I never looked down to what was in the bottom of my own abyss. I have always been far too terrified of what I was capable of keeping hidden.
Honesty, real gut wrenching honesty. I am obsessed with "truth" yet I do not even allow myself into my most harmful of thoughts. I let them fester in my silence. Pretending I am untouchable.
"A September child..." Just like myself...
 Lately, I see children, and finally now- two months after I would have been, had I not...(ahh..is this regret? or guilt? or can it be called another thing entirely? )
It hits me.
Winds me with such an incredible force. I could have been a Mother. (Wanting to be, or not...that is not the point here...)
You are not meant to think these things, not when you make certain choices. "for the best"
You are meant to just do them, and then go on as though nothing ever happened.
The pain in my gut, the fact I could find no good reason (Because I am not reason enough alone.)
...not even then. Regret ?
Guilt? I did a thing- the right thing? there are so many angles to look at it from.
A selfish choice. Not a wrong thing..But a harshly real thing. A thing I cannot seem to truly justify with a reason from anywhere inside of my self. A "thing"
...Hah! as much of a descriptive term as I allow myself...Honesty...Honesty...Honesty. What reason is there for being if not to be wholly yourself ?
Perhaps it is just comparison, and fear. I think of the age of my Mother when she became a parent.
I think of how different the culture of family...of the individual is now.
Everyone is out for themselves. Everyone thinks there is always something better on its way.
No matter how good what they may have, it's never enough.
We throw away amazing things, amazing people. Because we have ideals, and we are stupid.
We think everything we could ever dream of exists. (maybe it does, and maybe it can...I listen to myself speak- all the while thinking "you, you are not really this cynical... you are a romantic. a dreamer...)
We think, we learn...that we are all of us, made to be super in our own right. (maybe we are, maybe it is our idea of what is super that is the problem)
But it's bullshit.
All of it is bullshit.
I was afraid. That is the only real reason I can fathom.
I was petrified of a child. Myself.

And that fear made me adult.
 

Sunday, 2 November 2014

And Now, You Are Found.

I listen. Ben Howard haunts my ears with his shades of blue. I wonder should I stop him.
But I let him keep on. Reminding me of what is gone. Conversing in my head with the ghost of us, as to why it can only stay gone. About how I am trying to let you let me go.
Even though it aches. Even though I long for what we once were.
The vividness of our memories if I allow them,...swoop in. Do not cut at me like knives, there is only grief. My heart feels such a pain, that I can only shut you out. Because no amount of tears can bring it back. The way I used to feel. It seeped out over time, and it was not your fault but mine.
The faults in me.
We lost it baby. And I know. I know the hurt I left you with.
These walls I build. I work to dismantle even as I feel myself placing down the bricks.
But being alone...is peaceful, and safe. I cannot lose anything if I never have it.
And I cannot cause pain if I never belong anywhere.
It's a childish notion born long ago. To unlearn it...I work...I dig into my soul.
And it hurts. But...
I do not believe anything is impossible.
Or at least that's what I tell myself.
I know that you look for my words.
I wish I could be what you need me to be.
But I have at long last learnt,
the only person I can save is myself.
And I'm trying.

 

Monday, 8 September 2014

The Shallow.

Fill me up with nothingness. Your pretty words. Falling meaningless to the floor.
Leave me empty when you go.
You fool, girl. Letting him so close. When he uttered all those fateful phrases...
"trust me..." My gut. it swam against the tide.
I disappear, under waves of black. I do not fight it.
Not as I should.
Too many times...I fight the urge to hide beneath my covers and stay there.
Shut away. Because people strip my soft soul bare of it's flesh.
I wonder why people do it. how they do it...
Tell you tales. breathe you in, as though it were something...
Something with substance. Peeling at your layers of defence.
Pick someone else, pick a harder heart to play with.
How do they do it?
There is a danger in those lonely ones.
Seeking comfort in someone who does not know
How to protect herself.
Who does not know, how to place conditions upon feelings.
I used to think, I could swallow up everyone's sadness.
Lock it all away.
As I did with my own.
But nobody minds.
Nobody minds feeding you their hurt.
I feel it. creeping down my spine.
Cold in my veins.
And I sink.
Drowned only by myself.


 

Wednesday, 27 August 2014

It Is What It Is.

 I stood there. Staring out at nothing across the tracks. Empty of intent, entirely...empty...
"what's the point?..." ...
I drift off mid-thought. swerving into somewhere that feels dangerous. A place made darker by its lack of melancholy, its lack of any feeling what so ever. So matter of fact. So cold.
That it sends a shiver through me, or at least it would. If I gave a shit about anything at all right now.
 I reached a certain level of acceptance. Acceptance of the fate that- this- this is what it is. Life is this. And people... Well people are the way they are...
 Ahhh...but acceptance means fuck all, when you are such a hopeful na├»ve little idealist! It means bullshit.
I know, but I do not want to know. I want to believe, I wish to trust that we are all a little better.
That we are all just a tiny bit lost,...
But what the fuck does it matter?....
What does any of it matter...
Ahhhh...here I go again. Along this pointless path, no place to go. no place to end.
But, to end.



 

Monday, 18 August 2014

Clouds / Why On Earth Are You Still Awake Samuel ?

March 2013.
Finally I come to the time I can sleep, but I cannot. After seven days working in a row. Deliriously heating milk too hot...drinking far too much espresso...wishing I was Samuel L Jackson...
Now, tired as fuck I sit half watching Lord of the Rings wondering what the fuck I'll do next with my life. I try not to search too deeply, get too intense. brushing over what still must be brushed over.
How long will I keep doing that? Not dealing with what I guess...I must...eventually. At some point.
Do I? Maybe I can just sweep it away, pretend it never happened. Stop going over every stupid detail.
Forget his face. Forget his voice. Lose it somehow. Lose myself.
I have always been so good. Tried so hard to be everything to everyone that they could need. I wonder what it is I have missed by being this way. Living like a shadow. Pretending that nothing ever hurts. Nothing really matters... When the opposite is only ever the truth.
I'm alone. And it's too comfortable. Too easy to stay like this. Moving undetectably through in this strange cloud of outward silence. I don't want to look- for I do not want to see.
...see, delirious.... Perhaps it's the full moon....
 

Monday, 7 July 2014

Learn/Let Go.

Lover,
If you won't love me someone else will.
My Mind, and then my body I'll set free.
I will not miss your lips, your hands
They were never mine.
All the falsehoods,...broken plans.
The promises you never had to make.
Lover, if you won't love me
Someone else will.
I'll remove this leash
That I tied tight around my heart.
I wonder why I tried so hard
To keep you,
My body, and then my mind
Told me, I should go.
As I lay next to your sleeping figure
Wondering upon the distance.
All I ever felt was the emptiness of us,
This chlling cold.
You watched me as I fell
Fell for you.
And the callousness is,
That you could have stopped me,
When I gave you the chance
To let me go.





Thursday, 3 July 2014

Concentric Circles.

 This trend, for living in a way that suggests you do not feel "too much"...Just enough to let everyone know you are doing just fine, that your life is "awesome"... That everything is exciting and underwhelming all at once. Never admitting to being completely consumed by a thing, a person, a flock of birds...a fucking flower...The way a man stands looking so content with his eyes closed beneath the sun as he steps out from his office at the end of the day.... just standing, briefcase in hand. The light and calm smoothing his wrinkled face, turning him into a boy. His peace fed my peace. Little drops of joy filtering through the air, in all it's beautiful simplicity. All consuming.
Everyone seems to want, want everything with no patience. People meet, and the expection seems to be that something must be wrong with you if you do not wish to give up your body without first wanting to establish their interest in your soul. It is all skin, but no bones. And of no fucking interest to me. 
I want guts, I want the fleshy beautiful awkward ugliness we all carry within us. I do not wish to make idle chat, unless there is some other substance. My nonsense if more precious to me than my honesty...I'd rather my silence and solitude. Loneliness lives more in the empty exchanges; the encounters that you do not wish to admit mean more than you feel safe to say. Because,...what is this game? this game of who can appear to care the least?
Swallowing up exciting emotions, and reading between every line of a simple text to decipher hidden meanings...To decide what it is you should say next, how much of yourself it is safe to give. How much the other person wants.
Peace, I see where it exists. The things that obstruct it, they are what should be simple. What can be simple. Honesty. my obsession with it has somehow freed me. I seek it out, I register the tiny lies that people tell and wonder if they realise how amusing it is that they cannot just tell the truth. Questioning why things appear more complex than they need be, because they must remember all their little tales at every turn. 
Promises should be meant, words should be said not simply to be beautiful...or to make someone drop their guard (or indeed their pants) so you can ravage them. Cruelty is cruelty no matter how pretty it sounds or appears. No, no...this trend for being less. feeling less, being so laid back even about important things...it can fuck right off, I will have nothing to do with it. I would rather be awkward, rather be "intense" rather be so overly sensitive that I sniffle a little at the smallest suggestion of pure emotion. We are all inter-connected, I will put my heart into everything I do. Feed love through the cracks. Because it is limitless, and everyone needs it. 
 

 

Thursday, 19 June 2014

Let's close the curtains, shut the world out for a time.

I had not left the flat for three days. My head spun a little, maybe from the overwhelming rush of fresh air flooding my lungs. Or the sunlight...
This, this is as distant as I can be from the real world at the moment.
Unless I magically transform myself into a meditative master with a snap of my fingers...
I breathe in,...the sweetness of damp leaves. I want to put up a tent and stay here...
In Greenwich Park, with the squirrels...

Change. An overwhelming need for it suddenly crashes through me. All the procrastination...
The unhealthy stagnancy...the fucking annoying ignorance at an ache that just won't go away...
I've become so preoccupied with saving or fixing other people, or things...
Telling myself somehow, it is because I am selfless, when in fact it is just because
I don't know quite what to do to move myself. The answers I don't have...
There are answers I don't have?!...

I stumble over the things, that used to cripple me. Remembering the time when it was
fresh. When I couldn't quite believe there would come a time when it would leave me.
Not wake from nightmares. Not cower at every normal argument in fear that it would end in danger.
A time when I lost myself so completely, I couldn't even believe I had ever really existed.
Or that I should once more.
How far I have come, I must remind myself.
How far away from that time I am.





Friday, 25 April 2014

The Lover, Half-Hearted

Somewhere between Friday evening and Saturday morning, I fall in love.
But then,
Monday comes too soon and I know that now it will be over.
Because in the days that follow I lose you. A little more with each day,
The distance grows.
By Wednesday, the clutch I have upon any hope dissipates.
And I hold on so tight to it, I begin to feel a fool.
By Thursday my heart breaks in pity at itself.
It's foolish, lonely overzealous beating.
For something that does not exist. that cannot be real.
I wait. I wait for you to want me, enough
That you can't stop yourself from reaching for me,
Before I reach for you. I'll give in.
Wondering whether if I didn't...
 "would I see you at all- would I hear anything?"
I don't understand this part time...thing.
You have a life so separate from me I don't even know you.
If you don't ever feel like you fall over yourself,
If you are never going to be overwhelmed
If you don't want me enough to respect that my time
is as precious as yours...
Let me go.
Tidal doesn't work.
I get swept away in the repetition.
The melancholy of unknowing.
This is not mere independence.
Independent suits me just fine.
This is alone.
Another Friday morning.
My belly churns, my body heavy.
The excitement at the prospect of seeing you
The anticipation....
Long since disappeared.
Now I am only lost in self conservation.
I should listen to my begging heart.
Growing tired of being torn.
But instead, here we are.
It's Friday.
I fall in love.