The sea is a good place to think of the future


That stolen glance, the ones where your eyes meet and linger. Mentioning that person more than just the occasional whisper. Adding them and liking everything they do on social media.

When they show you a favourite song and you realise it was their favourite with that other someone. Thinking you had something special, that this was to be your memory. 

The past, the present, the future, the things you talk about, the promises you make, the life you expect never quite turns out the way you want.

The sea, that’s where I’ll go, I’ll go watch the tide come in and let it sweep me away. I’ll let my body dance with the waves, my lungs fill with my surroundings, my arms swaying as I become lifeless with nothing but misery and pain fading away from me. With a last breath, a pause, a moment, I’ll smile, and it will be real, finally peace, escape, a true glimpse into what life could have been.

Looking for something

Sometimes I’m looking, I realise I’m completely blind to what it is I’m looking for.

Wishing that dreams weren’t this thin, Losing the lust for life and love I have within.

I hold on to anxieties and trust mishaps from the past. I wish to the gods that this self doubt wouldn’t last.

Picking myself up from the crimson flux, all will be well he said, but I knew better, and still I did not ask.

The self loathing and constant waiting around isn’t going to change this mess, but you can’t let it keep you down.

You must rise above and see the glory outside, that the future ahead that truly is so bright. 

Time is one thing that is so precious to me, sharing your time with someone else, creating beautiful memories.

If the other person does not have the time for you or constantly brings it up, “I have no free weekends”, then take a step back and question what your worth is here.

A relationship is about compromise and still being oneself but being part of a unionship. If you’re changing yourself or feeling unhappy, ask yourself, is he/she really worth all this.

We are all only here once, (maybe a few more times in spirit and memories) but this lifetime is what we have and why not be happy and let yourself shine? 

Time is precious and shouldn’t be spent worrying over what people are thinking and why they don’t want to share theirs with you.

Time is for living so today go do something new, make a list of things to achieve and get them done, focus on happiness and not being so god damn glum! 

You are who you are, you cannot change that. Blossom don’t hide, be who you are regardless of what people like.

Go forward with a heart of gold and make people smile, be bold, don’t be frightened, put on your favourite song and dance, sing, have a little run around and see, it’s not all so bad really. 

It’s a false start and not an ending

“I started to diarise the coming of flies when gloom is descending
So when it’s back round again I know it’s a false start and not an ending”

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Feeling like you’re alone in your own world of crazy,

The walls around crashing towards your being.

The people surrounding saying nothing but still screaming.

Wanting to say what you feel but not able to follow through.

Pretending you’re ok, you’re in love, that he loves you still.

Really there’s nothing left in the abyss of this relationship.

Going over the same lines, lies and tries.

Believing in fading dreams that are nothing more than winters mist.

How have you become so lost in this?

“And I’ve been dangling in limbo, barely keeping my cool. 
It’s like I’m snookered between the back cushion and touching the 8 ball.”

Job satisfaction 

37.5 hours a week, the total time I realised I’m unhappy.

At first it was fun, the people are lush.

Now I’m filled with dread, I want to give up.

Not on life, but on this job,
I’ve quite simply had enough.

So I could wallow, I could cry, 

But that’s not me, I’ll work hard until I die.

Instead I’ll find something new,

A place of happiness again.

I may work for the man, but he also works for me,

I just have to find the right compatibility.

We live and we die, 

There’s no point wasting time.

If you’re unhappy move on,

Be productive until you’re gone.

So I’ll give it my all and be the best I can be. 

Hopefully soon I’ll be writing an entry, about that new job just for me.

The love story that began with a little peach

This is how our love bloomed. How my eyes were opened. He enticed me with his beautiful words.

I want you to close your eyes and picture the world as you see it. All colour, warmth, sound. Now picture a 6ft by 6ft glass box amidst it all. Obvious, but somehow part of the general architecture of the place. The interior is safe and secure from the fury and noise, and allows me a voyeur’s view of the world. Inside, the edge of the knife does not cut me, the jaws of the world do not close around my neck. In a word safety. 

 But it’s also a little cold, the obsidian walls reflect cruelly back at me, and the warmth of connection is impossible. I watch as others braver than me embrace the world and its gifts; the glow of new love, the full bloom of chances taken. But I in my box cannot be reached, a long forgotten organ screams for freedom, but is heard only by the walls and so its cries echo and fade into comfortable silence. 

 This is where I live.

 Or at least did until recently. As with all the best stories the inciting incident is a girl, we’ll call her the peach (yes I’m serious). Now, I could wax lyrical about freckles, brown eyes and sweet dispositions, but I never was great at poetry and romance not born of strong cider makes me faintly nauseous.

 But…

 How she personifies all the light, fury and beauty of a world closed to me, a look shatters the glass and the world rushes in. A shard of pure daylight into a long neglected vault, bringing with it the scent of spring and innumerable promise. My soul soars, the very bones that hold me feel lighter, my spine straightens, wrinkles recede. I remember that somewhere within this carefully constructed prison, despite it all, lives a human.

 Then comes doubt, like a barely perceptible whisper of chill wind through winter pines. Breathing those fateful words “this isn’t real”. 

 To love is to surrender. The soldier surrenders knowing that he throws himself upon the mercy of his captor, he lays down his defences and so becomes naked. Do I, like him, plead mercy and step into the terror of uncertainty, the great beyond, the void?

 The risks are severe, to fail surely means to fall into a far darker place than the sanctuary of my prison. But the reward! All the colour of the world revealed to me at last! 

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