What can I say?

Within the first half an hour of waking up someone had demanded my presence in two days time, and I had plans with another already, so I declined, and proceeded to read several rather abusive messages of me being an ‘asshole’ for saying I can’t meet her. Now, this person isn’t close to me, we only hung out when she was lonely, and we both had children so it was nice to get out and about. Since moving town I haven’t really wanted to go back to my old town, and though she offered to come up, it was in a weekday, and I’m genuinely busy this week sorting out a BBQ for Friday. It may not seem like a lot of work but I have to do the following: cut down half a tree, and cut my overgrown garden, burn the lot, in stages of time, set up the bbq, clear the garden, dust it off, and also prepare food, and drink, and whatever else I need to do.

But needless to say, I haven’t had a bad day, I just moved on, swept it off, went for a jog, and awaited the return of my little one. I couldn’t wait to see her, and even with her here, I had so much to do. We played a few games, and then my dad stayed around to cut up some of the garden with me. He helped while my mother looked after my daughter in my living room. Hurray for family! Now, I have half of the workload left, and I get to do that in the week.

After dinner, I took my daughter to see my friend where we had some salad, and I took her a subway, and a little going away present, accidentally did something which I was certainly not supposed to do however, and have not been so embarrassed for months… but let’s not talk about that! Ha-ha.

Other than that, our walk home went smoothly, and I succumbed to a few snacks this evening, two chocolate bars and two milkshakes. I know, terrible.

I spent my evening talking to a few lads, and ladies on skype while playing a game or two. It may have dawned on me, about now, how embarrassing that was today, and after an interesting conversation about why I eat meat, if I believe everything has a soul… I’m not sure how to answer that? because I’m not an angel? Quite possibly a little too dick-ish to be an angel. But, here we are. I am spiritual and feel everything is connected but that doesn’t mean I dislike eating living things, just… I am grateful for them, rather than seeing it as a sport, or something we have fun on. Though we live in a society where there is choice, I guess, I never really thought about it.

Food for thought.

Also, if a friend is reading…

Believe in yourself, for when you don’t, I will.

Goodnight everyone, enjoy!

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A sighing smile

I’ve had quite a good day today. I still feel emotions from people who are close to me, but I’m pretty sure that is just the side effects of being empathetic. I really don’t mind though. I think I’ve managed to help someone today. Better than none.

On a separate note, I had breakfast with my friend who we talked about stuff, and seems she’s actually getting closer to letting me past her guard, which if she ever does, I’ll make sure not to screw up. It was nice when she said, “You shouldn’t say you’ll be there for me, because I’ll eventually believe it.” And this is an awesome quote, because it says so many things about a person. At the same time, it just makes me want to be there for her even more. Ha-ha.

I actually wanted to leave her something nice as she’s going soon, but all the personalised stuff would take longer to get here than the time she has, so for now, I’ll have to leave her with the words, ‘Believe in yourself, for when you don’t, I will.  Thomas”. The reason for the Thomas at the end is from a conversation we had today where she said it was my other name, so she could call me it whenever she wanted.

I’ll miss her.

Other than that, today has been quite fun. I met up with a friend who we had a nice chat and watched a movie, and then went for a drive. It was nice to meet her again.

So, all in all, I had a good day. I had a few more chats this evening, and ended the night on a good note.

Also, I like to think that you can make a mark on anyone with your words, better or for worse, so why not try and make it the best you can?

Simulacrum

Have you ever met someone who sometimes seems like a mirror image of you. You have to look deeper than what you see at face value. Our decisions, choices, and circumstances mould us, sculpt us, change us. There are deeper things behind out choices, that makes us who we are.

I mean, someone who is almost a counterpart, a doppelgänger. It is more like someone who has similar attributes to you, and even if in colour they are different to yours, what is behind them, can quite possibly match you more than you’d think.

I met someone in January whom I couldn’t get out of my head, and not because I found her attractive, or wanted to jump into bed with her, but because there was something about her I couldn’t put my finger on. Though we had a disagreement, we’ve been talking for the better part of the last 2-3 months. We’ve gotten quite close and there are still things I can’t put my finger on.

The things she says for one, just like me. It’s like having a moment of clarity, once a day, once every two, where your brain is hyper-focused and you need to say the things on your mind. And for once, instead of your brain being a mess, everything is clear and you write out what you need to say until it’s said and done.

It’s almost like a dance, where we stand around each other, and move around, testing each other without meaning to, analysing each other without needing to, and fumbling around each other like we are new to the whole thing. It’s interesting, and I think we’re in the exact same position with one another.

It really has been quite interesting, and quite mind boggling to think that facing each other, we might be both the same, and opposites of one another. At the same time of that, she seems to be one of the few people in the world that really want to get to know me. That, and she’s not afraid to actually talk to me properly, in a deep manner.

It’s just one of those surprises life throws at you I suppose.

Food for thought; I’m looking forward to seeing what happens.

About you now

I write about being strong, and you dance with your words.
I write about being honest, and you manipulate your surroundings.
I write about being real, and you clasp your mask tighter.
I write about being with you, and you turn the other way.
I’m not sure where I’m going with this; I’m not sure what it takes.
I’m not sure where you are; I’m not sure I should wait.
I’m not sure about you now.
I’m just not sure about you now.
Sometimes, I just auto write things, and this is one of them. Enjoy.

Remember to get back up for yourself

I’ve been teaching my daughter that when she falls over she should get up, brush herself off, and carry on going. Now, some people have been a bit funny with me when I’ve said this; I haven’t rushed off to pick her up when she has cried, nor have I babied her because of every tiny little thing. Every time she falls over, whether it be through the mud, or on concrete, I kneel down next to her and remind her what we do “What do we do when we fall over?”

Sometimes, I get an “Um,” or an “Ahh.” but this week, when she fell over she picked herself up and said, “We brush ourselves off”. When she said that it melted my heart because of how strong she seems to have become already. It reminded me of something many people should, or have yet to learn in their lives – No one will pick you up, but you.

So, when you reach the floor, and look aimlessly for someone to listen to you, for someone to nurture you, stop. Start reaching inward, and you look at yourself in the mirror, dust yourself off. Whether you’ve not felt sexy, or pretty, or handsome in forever, and you go get dressed. It doesn’t matter whether your sixty stone or 6; you look in that mirror, with the haircut you wanted, the clothes you’ve always wanted to wear, and you go out with a smile on your face. When you do that, nothing can break you; the reason for that is because you are the one who picked yourself up, brushed the dirt of failure, panic, heartbreak away, and comforted yourself.

You begin to realise that you don’t need someone else to comfort you, to baby you, to protect your heart. The problem with this society is that we are born into a negative world, with negative views, and negative programming. It is up to you to change that programming for yourself. It is the whole, ‘is the cup half full, or half empty’ gig. It is half fucking full, and there’s enough room in there to pour in whatever the fuck you want on top of that.

 

It has taken me a long time to come to the conclusion that the problems I have can be changed and they can be for you, as well. The problem being your own negativity. I would fail, blame myself, and blame others, but forget about blame. Just dust it off, call it a learning experience, and move the fuck on. When you feel tired, and sore at the end of the day; instead of giving up, close your eyes, and remember how far you’ve come, and if you’ve not come far, imagine how far you want to go. Let in feelings of what you can become, instead of what you’ve been told you can’t become. When you’ve rested your eyes, and remembered why you’re here, what you’re doing, and where you’re going, crack on with it.

I’ve spent too much of my life focusing on other people to the extent where I lost a big part of myself every time I gave someone everything I had to offer and they walked away, or betrayed me. That’s the wrong way to live, and I don’t care if you think it’s the right way or not. Bringing up the age old story of ‘giving a man a fish, or teaching him how to fish’ You teach him how to fish, and set him on his way. You don’t become their parent, and you don’t become their protector. No one needs that, it’s only a mirage that they tell themselves because of the way the world has received them.

The most important lesson I have come to understand as of late is ‘You can’t help someone who does not want to help themselves’ and is that the type of person you want to be? Of course not. So, if you help yourself, and you get up, and get knocked back down. Don’t worry, don’t ruin yourself with destructive thoughts. You get up again, and again, and when you can get up no more, then you ask for help because you, in your whole have tried all you can try, and sometimes, that’s worth more than ever coming first, or succeeding in anything. People will come and go, and you will learn much from them, but never forget who you are, and who you want to be.

For me, I have never had much talent for anything. I don’t know how to play an instrument, aside from a simple recorder at a basic level. I haven’t travelled the world, or lived a life of virtue. I haven’t mastered the art of writing, or the art of mars. I haven’t done anything I would consider of noteworthy. Sure, I know I have my daughter, like most people will remind me after this post, but I saw no choice there, in my head so really, it was not something I decided to do.

What I’m saying is, though I’ve not got any amazing skill, aside video games, of all things… I have an ability to overcome, and that is something you can program into yourself. In Norse mythology they do not tell you the gods are perfect, or invincible. They tell you the unique story of a group of people who have become great by facing their vulnerabilities, and never ceasing. Each God had a vulnerability they would face everyday. Whether it be Thor’s pride, or Freyja’s loneliness. Throughout the sagas they always face their own demons and grow stronger because of that. That, I believe is an important lesson to share. The society back then deemed it more important to have an ability to overcome, and teach that, than to be perfect at any aspect of life.

Just remember, only you can help yourself.

A Curtain Closed

When I come to think about things, when have I ever been in a position where I’ve not had an interest in at least one person. I’m not talking about a flirt or two; I’m talking about a true, proper connection with someone. I often wonder that this barricades my being from connecting with anyone else, at the time. It is like a tunnel, a transition; it is like being stuck in a state of liminal being.

I had quite the ignition of the past this evening, where I talked to my friend a little too much, and we delved into one another’s mind’s like a scene out of The Matrix. Though this has been someone I had feelings for, and still care for her greatly, I could not help notice that the feeling of infatuation had been replaced with a feeling of instinctual care, worry, and general curiosity.

The thing is, that this person had been there for me over the past several months without asking for anything in return. She’s been a star. I don’t easily, but I sensed something with her that I could not help but open up to. Whether it be a warm smile, or a sense of complex motherly/protective instinct, I am sure it brought us close enough to connect on a level where we understand one another.

In fact, after talking to her about someone she is in love with(Madly, if I may add.) She has this tendency to protect her mind from anyone getting too far into her head that they might actually understand her. This evening however, I had a little more time. What I found was in fact she is quite the heart-felt person and has been stuck in a state of mind where she feels rather trapped, and I offered a solution. I told her not to sacrifice her heart, for the heart of another. This, meaning that if she harbours intense feelings for someone, she should go for it.

It actually reminded me of quite the predicament I was in long ago. Where I was in love with someone who I couldn’t reach as our paths were taking us into different directions, but we still got too close. Though, I know how painful it is to hold onto someone, even when they have moved on. We ended up as best friends, instead, but I don’t think it’d end the same way for her. I think she has a real shot at happiness and I really wouldn’t want her to waste that.

Tonight has struck a cord with me, and disassociated me from the real world for a moment, allowing the idea to sink in that I am actually far from any decent connection with someone who has a romantic interest. Tonight was a little eye-opening for me in the sense that though I don’t believe I need a partner, and no longer feel like I’m looking for something to fill that void in my heart I still sometimes miss the feeling of being so interested in someone, and that person in me, that we would talk for hours a day; even smiling and laughing with someone day in and day out is something I miss.

That being said, it doesn’t matter so much for me. After meeting several people over the last year and coming to the conclusion that aside from it being hard to commit to me, because of my daughter, it is also that I’m observant, and I seem to be on ‘another level’, whatever that means.

And, as much as it has boasted a severe disappointment, I have ascertained a level of understanding and acceptance, so much so that I thank the people who walked away when they felt these feelings, rather than pushing a relationship that wouldn’t work. More so, for me, that I am able to agree that it is better to walk away from something you know you don’t want, than forcing two pieces that do not fit together. For me, it means I’m closer to finding a piece of the puzzle that fits.

I was probably going somewhere with this, but I digress, and forget.

Over-all, I had an awesome night with an awesome friend; I believe that our friendship is stronger, and I got a glimpse of what she is really like, behind the mask everyone puts on. I can say, without a doubt that she is an important person in my life, and I am proud to be her friend.

So, if this relates to you, feel free to ask anything below in the comments, and I’ll be sure to reply.

Notice, breathe, listen, and remember that sometimes all it takes is for someone with a different point of view to look your way.

Spanish night

So, this was the first time I had someone to babysit for me, other than my parents. It wasn’t too bad, as the person I had has been a close friend for the whole Uni’ year now. She took her to bed for me, and told me how many times my daughter tried to get up and persuade her to let her come downstairs. Ha-ha. Aside from that, it went well.

The reason for this babysitter was a few friends were having a ‘Spanish Night’ and wanted me to test (enjoy) their food. I may have expected foods I had never heard of, but there were Spanish omelettes and Paella. The omelettes were much tastier, but I could not give the Paella credit due to the girls saying, “We messed it up! We messed it up!” Needless to say, the night way an amusing endeavour. After a few cans of cider (ugh, cider, stomach, pain) and ‘mucho’, or ‘macho’, or ‘mocho’ or ‘muchacho’ (ha-ha) which was coca-cola and wine. Even though it seemed like a masculine word, it tasted very, very sweet.

So, aside from leaving a little early to relieve my babysitter, I had a good night. And from the music still circulating my brain, and the images of my two Spanish friends having a dance off to words I could not possibly comprehend… it put a smile on my face to say the least. (Now, I’m just hoping they send me the video).

Anyway, it was fun eating mex-I mean, uh, Spanish food. It was an interesting event and met some new people.

I hope everyone else had a decent night like I did.

Lucille III

I had a metallic taste in my mouth, rustic, of sorts. I was beaten, broken; I had enough. Could one thing not go right for me? Could everyone be against me? The first beautiful woman that I fall for on sight looks straight through me, and goes for some obnoxious prick, instead.

I clenched my fist and tried to battle the rage stirring inside of me but I felt an undeniable thirst to crack that pompous, square-jawed milk-drinker. I may have been a decade older, but I had an infallible urge to cut his throat.

I began breathing heavily, and those passing around me could see me in distress; they did nothing. No, they would not have. Of course, they would not have. Instead they looked at me, as if I were a werewolf out of a novel; as if I was changing before them. I was not.

The young idiot gave me a grin as I looked their way. I was not looking at him, though. I was looking at her. An idyllic beauty of such; one I could paint pictures of, dream of, imagine worlds from. Right down to the fine-detail of the lace lining the red dress she wore. That picture of her would last forever in my mind. After a moment of time, being almost paralysed by her beauty, I turned my attention to him; every inch of me grew silent, and my mind clear.

A crooked smile turned my lips, and as I stroked my hand through my hair to slick it back, I gave a stare that could have killed the man in itself. I walked so close, keeping my stare. He noticed, and hated it.

Finally, I had my first rush of adrenaline; my first destructive moment; my first primal urge. I could control it, for now. But I needed to record this. I need to get home. I moved down the street, swaying from left and right, my seething teeth had elevated my heart rate, and I felt a little light-headed. I looked around, and spotted everything, but at the same time things were blurring, but others were as sharp as the hand in front of me.

I looked at the wagons pulled by horses. Their chests were strained, and the hair follicles around the harness were grungy, breaking, and weak. The eyes of the horse were damaged, like their souls had been crushed. Repeated beating of the whip would do that to anyone’s soul. I saw my reflection in the puddles as I passed them. I liked it, and smiled. The reflection told me much, and revealed to me a side of me that I had not felt for a long time. A thug spotted me and I could see him approaching me. I walked into the alley, three streets from the market and kept my eye on him. I reached into the pocket of my coat. I always kept it in the left. I reached for my silver-handled shaving blade, sharper than any knife.

He stood a step away from me, until I turned, left leg forward, right foot back. I could see the startle in his eyes. He tried to throw a left hook, and instinctively I moved my left hand up to parry; I then shifted my hand and grabbed his wrist. I applied pressure to the point behind his thumb. His left arm quickly grew cold, and useless. I moved my right foot forward, and opened my blade out. I placed it against his neck, and sliced a few follicles of hair from his neck and whispered, “If I apply pressure here, even the smallest amount, it would tear into your jugular, and no barber, or surgeon would be able to save you. You would be out of time, and out of wit you ignorant, gorilla of a man.”

I could smell fear crawling from his skin; his paws opened like the fear a child has when he sees a monster under his bed. I had the image of that square-jawed prick in my head whilst pushing my knife close to this thug’s neck. For a moment I hadn’t even seen his face, I was still plastered with the thought of cutting the rich idiot’s throat. I waited for a moment, until the thug begged me for his life, “Sorry, sir… I’m sorry. Please don’t kill me. I had no idea.”

I could not believe it. “You have no idea? No idea? Of what? Of someone not being an easy target like you’d expect?” I caressed his skin with my blade, and rolled it up his neck. I nicked the top of his chin with my blade; a slight cut under the bubbly, ugly fur that hung at his chin. I let my hand slip away from his, and whispered, “Run…”

As he did, stumbling over his feet, I could not help but enjoy myself. The first time since before my work was ruined. It was time to return to my home, and reflect on this. I need more field work to complete my research; I just need to find a way to go about that.

It’s okay, I’ve got time.

If you want to read the previous entry of this story feel free to click on the link below.

http://lifesscrapbook.wordpress.com/2016/05/22/lucille-ii/

The blood of the soul

I held my hand out in front of me; it was full of blood, dripping down onto the glyph I drew with chalk. A bag of salt made a large circle outside of the glyph. It remained complete; it remained true.

They say, “When summoning spirits, or seeking out knowledge that only the dead are aware of, you must be ready to sacrifice your blood.” I had been reluctant for far too long, tip-toeing between this world and the next, our parallel, and many others. I had delved into the past, and witnessed our world history, as well as my own history. I had read the words on the pages of the great books in my hall, and bore the wisdom of the future… but I had yet to take this jump, this leap of faith.

I took a step forward, and squeezed my hand tight. I turned around until blood sprayed between the chalk octagon. The blood mixed in with the drawing. My blood, it irradiated a strange energy. It was like I could feel the power. I stood in the middle, in my symbol, 2 horizontal lines in the middle, and two vertical lines running through the centre, meeting symmetrical half-horizontal lines on the top and bottom.

I smeared my blood through symbols on the outside; each one symbolising a different thing, a different person, a different ideal.

I was ready, I close my eyes, and moved my hands back in. I knelt down, and felt a gentle breeze caress my face. It took every ounce of concentration I had not to be provoked into opening my eyes. I had to see with my soul. There were more than just breezes around the room now. Some moved my hair, and pressed into my body.

“What have I done?” I pondered. I felt fingers touch my skin, and my hands elevate. I had to pull out a parchment, a note of the person I was calling. I pressed my bloody hand on it, before I was taken.

I was warned, “Blood acts like nectar to the souls on that side. When you bleed, with intention to call them, it is like offering them a feast. Always have a specific purpose; always have a clear mind.”

I re-affirmed my concentration and sang the words that sealed my fate…