Month: February 2016

The fight in you

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What else has happened in a year? I’ve learnt a lot. About people and about emotions, and I’m still learning. I made up a quote once that I thought was pretty good; “Life is both the teacher and the test.” Because it’s true. There’ll be so much that will push you to the edges of your being, tempting you to fall over into an abyss of harm, but you cannot let that happen to you.

You know why?

Because you’re a fighter.

You’re a human being so you will fight your butt off to keep it together.

You’re not alone. Millions and billions and trillions of human beings before you have gone through the same problem, different problems, worse problems and crazier problems than you and they still came out fighting. It’s not about reaching the end point and giving a big sigh of relief, no, it’s more than that. It’s making every day count. But also, don’t be afraid of being afraid. Don’t hold back the tears. Don’t be ashamed to cry and then smile. Because you’re so beautifully human that sometimes it will hurt and you will feel so broken that you don’t know how to patch up the pieces again. But you can do it because you can.

Tell yourself this after you’ve let the sadness stew.

I can do this.

I’m writing positive because I’m trying to be positive myself. But I’ll let you know that I went to bed with anger last night, and I had my reasons. Sometimes you need time to boil it over, but after that you have to use your mind over your heart. Contrary to what a lot of people say about following your heart, there are times when you can’t throw a fit of passion. You need think coolly and calmly. You need to think.

That organ inside your chest will want to take over, but sometimes you can’t let it. Sometimes the grey matter in your head has to win, to take charge.

You’ll know what I mean soon enough.

The Swelling

How many more newborns must smile their last

Never to take their first steps

Upon that blood stained path

How many more children will never play under the sun

No longer run through the grass

But fall to death, not fun

How many more mothers must watch their child starve

Never to gorge through any meal

But plunge into eternal sleep where they would play and laugh

How many more bombs must drop

Bullets must scatter

Lives must shatter

For us to realise

That the blood of the innocent

Cannot always be soaked up by our soil

And this planet will swell in all the pain

Anger

And rage

That we have stamped on it

Before its scream rips through the heavens

And we would see

All that was pure and perfect

That we had destroyed

Another adventure

So I can’t travel right now. So let’s travel together.

Let’s get away from these buildings and bricks with right angles and rectangles. From these streets with double yellow lines. Run away from the cars and zebra crossings.

To see real zebras, crossing. Let’s walk through a savannah, a rainforest, a desert. Making footprints wherever we go so the squirrels can follow us while we follow the birds.

Lie under the galaxy watching shooting stars fizzle into the sky and the seven heavens rotating around us while we sleep by a fire and wake up to the sun burning down, scorching our skin, the greatest alarm clock ever.

Sit by the sea waiting for the tide to come in. Listening to the whoosh of the waves collapsing into one another. Sit on the cold sand of an English coast waiting for nightfall.

We can stroll through a lavender field at the peak of its season, the fragrance clinging to your clothes. Sit under the central tree watching the last golden rays glimpse past fierce purple whilst we take a picnic at sundown.

Or we could play hide and seek in a forest. With tree trunks so tall and thin that you’ll find me easily. But that’s fine, as long as we’re meandering through the autumn leaves, hearing their crunch beneath our boots. And the birds sing their morning greetings.

Let’s traipse through an Arctic desert, spend a night in an igloo, trying not to slip on the ice. Wearing three layers of socks and yet the cold still tickles our feet. Waking up beneath a mountain so majestically big and gloriously grand with snow capped peaks that remind you of the froth on a latte.

And suddenly you’re back. In that same London cafe. While the rain drops slide down the window, merging into one another. Blurring the traffic lights and headlamps behind.

So you long for that journey. But it’ll stay in your mind for now.

In another universe, another time, another space. Another adventure that will never take place.

 

Written: 27/12/2014

 

Like a slap of cold water

The life of this world is a deceiving enjoyment.

It’s both fake and yet amusing at the same time.

And we prefer it, we like it. We prefer this life. Because it’s so much closer to you, it’s what you see, feel and think. It’s what you breathe. We all become a little too comfy and too accustomed to ourselves here.

In fact, we willingly allow this world to take us in and comfort us, to tell us that what we’re doing is correct. To whisper to us that what we’re doing is perfectly fine and that the goal we are chasing after, the goal that makes our hearts ache in the same way muscles do after a long run, that goal is infallible. Flawless.

We think that this world is flawless.

And yet we know it is not.

We prefer the flawed lie when we know that the truth is still there under the rubble. We just have to pull away the stones and rocks, the hard covers on our hearts.

The truth doesn’t hurt as much as you think it does, or at least the biggest truth. The fact that your life is ready to crack at any moment shouldn’t come as much of a shock. Because when you realise what the truth, the beautiful yet difficult truth is then you’ll feel it, like a slap of cold water to your face. First it takes your breath away, and then it’s oddly refreshing. And you relish it.

But it takes work to keep it there in your face. This life, this lie, keeps coming back because it’s where you’re sitting. It’s what you eat, and where you sleep. It’s what you work as and how you drive. It’s the people walking on the pavement and it’s a summer breeze when you sit down outside. It’s everywhere around you and you have to fight to keep your right to know the truth, to not be robbed.

 

Written: 29/08/2013