From outside, in.

It was a bleak morning. The sun was reluctant to shine yet the moon had already set. Breathing slowly and gently, she was leaving her mark upon the window. She seemed picturesque, with her right hand’s fingers delicately resting upon the window pane. Her body appeared to frozen in time, yet her eyes were roaming the vast expanses beyond the confines of her room. She seemed to be appreciating something, at least the subtle upward curve of her lips suggest so. Perhaps she was simply appreciating how the wind had blown away the rain, blown away the sky and blown away the leaves. Or maybe; she was simply appreciating how, in spite of all the wind, the trees remained rooted to the ground courtesy the relationship that defied nature’s forces.

She sighed, and her delicate smile sunk, it’s frailty brutally exposed by her innermost thoughts. She turned away from the scene of stability midst change outside, and looked at the scene inside. Tidy, stable, yet changed. There was a strange emptiness, as if all that was dear had defected and only the essentials had remained.

She lay down and took solace in Autumn’s appeal of sympathizing with decay through silence. 

Despair.

There are a lot of emotions and thoughts running rampant within me right now, but for all the words in the world; I remain unable to express myself. I sat down and began typing thinking, the words will appear if I just let my fingers dance across the keyboard; however, it seems all i’m able to do is to describe my unfortunate predicament.

So, considering this post adds no real value to you and you’re probably thinking “what is he on about?” Let me simplify matters for you. All the chaos within me can be summed up in one word, two syllables and 7 letters. You’re really not going to like this but what I’m feeling is the title of this post. Why? c’est la vie. 

Or to loosely borrow and manipulate Chuck Palahniuk’s word’s; ‘It’s so hard to forget pain… We have no scars to show for happiness.’

1 Year On

A year ago, I created the blog that you are currently browsing. With terrible handwriting and far too much to say I embarked on what has been a tumultuous adventure of experimenting, expressing and eliciting responses from readers.

Early on I realised that blogging is a lonely task. You stare at a blank page and watch it fill up as your fingers furiously dance along the keyboard and your thoughts and emotions become form letters, words and eventually posts. This trend continues from post to post and eventually you become addicted to your statistics page and seeing how receptive internet users are to the nonsense you regularly write.

For a year now, I’ve consistently posted on topics ranging from economic failures to relationship failures. I’ve managed to sadden, anger and amuse people. However, a moments pause allowed for doubts to flood in.

Am I just posting the same things?

Am I experimenting enough?

Am I writing for myself or for the occasional reader?

Then gas ran out and I reached hotel ‘writer’s block’ and that’s the ball game. At the end of the game, you can either stick around for another innings or go home. I went home for a week or two and realised all the “googling” I was doing was only filling my cranium with more ideas and opinions. So here I am once more, ready to start a new innings ready to write for another year. This year like the previous one will see tirades on the world economy, the odd music review and many heartfelt posts. Yesterday’s done. It’s time for Today. It’s time for Tomorrow.

Ready? Let’s go.

So… How are you writing today?

Found this on a tumblr. A good laugh. Enjoy!

Emotional Journey

Emotional bliss,
Courtesy your kiss
Yet something was amiss
Words of an angel…
Left me infatuated, remiss

Emotional Curiosity
Questioned your audacity
To build me up, then break me down.
Did I ever deserve such animosity?
Promise me a smile, only to make me drown.

Emotional Paralysis,
Needing some dialysis
“Fatal wounds” exclaims the analysis,
Enough deliberating…
I need someone to fix this.

Idea or Reality?

A friend of mine is infatuated with a girl. In a few days, he’ll be marking the one year anniversary, not of the successful relationship, but in remembrance of the day he realized he began his free – fall.

For him, the year has been a roller coaster ride devoid of pleasure. However, he refuses to get off the ride, instead clinging onto some invisible thread, which ultimately brought him sleepless nights, an empty wallet and a get well soon card. The question remains though, was he infatuated with the idea of the person or the reality?

Having placed her on a pedestal and overlooked all her flaws, he created an image so powerful that the reality he interacted became an idea and vice versa. This is something seen in too many relationships.

We choose to see a well acted Facebook profile, with a carefully chosen picture to accompany a meticulously prepared information page. We choose to see a resume of perfection simply because we are desperate to see what we want to see. So desperate are we that we overlook the gaps and negative data as misinterpretations or falsifications created by outsiders. Even when exposed to the reality that the person is harnessing our affection to overcome obstacles in their life, we chose to believe that it is simply because they feel the same way and would care for us when the time arrives.

The image we ultimately view is the final version of a movie presented to us at a cinema, with the plot moving towards a constant happy ending. Therefore, like my friend, we forget that the happy ending is only for the actors and actresses. A happy ending paid for with our hard earned money, emotions and time.

The idea might be wonderful but that pedestal you put them on is something they will eventually fall from. When they do fall, they will fall on you and crush your dreams and the reality will be the salt in your wounds. When you look behind their mask and you look at the reality, it might not be great, but it is not a construct destined to destroy you.

Look for the architects of reality. Not the architects of your misery.