Born broken

I’m not sure we’re all born a bit broken, or maybe we’re all born broken in different ways, but I was born a bit broken. It doesn’t hit you until you grow up. It wasn’t my parents’ fault because I had quite the childhood, all the toys, all the games, responsibility, trust, freedom, and understanding. It wasn’t them — it was me. I don’t know. It took me about eighteen years of my life to understand that I don’t feel intense emotions, at first. Bloody hell I feel them, bloody hell I feel them more than many I’ve met, but it takes time for my brain to process information like intense emotion.

 

5f92e11c5f399eb03186def38c90a891--old-soul-quotes-happy-quotes.jpg

It took me twenty-four years to accept myself for who I am, and have been, and who I want to be. It took me two decades to understand that I have been in pain, and in survival mode when there has been little if any reason to be in it. It has taken me eighty percent of my life to accept that it is okay.

I never talked to my parents, or anyone, except someone I met who lived almost two-hundred miles away from me… about me. I never thought of it before then, and I’ll tell you a secret about me — when I was young I don’t know why, but I was sure I wouldn’t be here for long, so sure that I pushed everyone I cared about when I was younger away from me in preparation because I held onto the idea that being a ghost was the better alternative than hurting the people you care about.

I think this idea came from the first person I put my trust in who wasn’t my mother which was my auntie, and I was a pretty shy kid, and a bit weird, I suppose. I wouldn’t talk to anyone else apart from my mother for years, but when I did, and I remember being asked to draw a sheep for my auntie and to give her a kiss on the cheek goodbye. She’d chase me around the room until I refused so much that she would eventually give in.

I remember the night I finally gave in myself and saw how sad she looked when she went to leave, and I kissed her cheek. Little did I know it would be the last time I would ever see her, and that she had a sad face because it was a kiss goodbye. Suicide is a funny thing, and no one knows who struggles with thoughts like that until it’s too late, after all, when you see someone smiling all day, every day, who would know that they aren’t happy?

And you know something, for so many years after that moment, I’d occasionally understand the feeling. The feeling of ‘being trapped’, the feeling of ‘suffocating’, the feeling of being forced to ‘live a certain way’, and quite often I’d sit away from everyone else, and stop smiling. I never told my parents I felt this way. I think I remember shouting it out once, but as childish as I was acting, I don’t think they thought I was serious.

I remember getting bullied, and in return, acting up and acting out. I had anger issues for the majority of my teenage years. I was disinterested in everything that I did, and no one really noticed. Some may have had an inkling and thought I’d just grow out of it, but I don’t think I ever let anyone get close enough to me.

As I grew up, I met someone who helped me see a different way of living, and for a while, that worked, but eventually, I fell back to my neutral self, and I began to feel hate. It wasn’t the bullying that did it, nor a relatively normal childhood. It was me, and it was a hatred for myself. I remember it, looking in the mirror, slouching after playing video games for sixteen hours straight, of thirty-six hours straight, not that it mattered, but I felt disgusted, but I couldn’t stop. The reason for that was because I would have to face myself if I stopped, and for the longest of time, I couldn’t.

My friend, the one that I talked to, helped me reach out, and I met someone who I connected with and that’s when I met my daughter’s mother. I think I met her at a point where I would believe what someone would tell me, no matter how ridiculous, more than my own thoughts, or feelings, or even if I knew the fact was different. The relationship gradually degenerated into something negative, and though I share my part to blame, it affected me more than I realised.

The idea of someone I ‘loved’ if, even to this day I understand the word when it refers to a romantic partner, but when meeting someone who broke me down more, and attacked me when I tried to walk away, on repeat, for about eight or so months, and I still, to this day, say, “It’s okay, we had our good bits.” It isn’t and it wasn’t okay. Her parents never saw it, neither did mine, for a while. They didn’t know she cheated on me half a dozen times, or would throw a punch at me for coming home half an hour later than she expected. It was my first proper relationship, so was this what a relationship was like?

No, it wasn’t. Eventually it came to a point where she brought that hatred and anger out of me and I felt like I wanted to hit her back and that was the point where I broke up with her, and it broke me because for the longest of time I had a chip on my shoulder which made me feel like I should never give up on someone, or walk away, because what would I do if I did that and then the next day, suddenly, they weren’t around anymore?

By the end of that relationship, when I finally made a choice between the man who I was scared of being, someone who you see in the news ‘Another man who hit his fiancee’, I finally made a choice of walking away, and in doing so, it was the first time I looked at myself in the mirror with mixed feelings, and unsure of myself, I tried to do more for me. Sure, it hurt when I found out she had cheated and when I was told it didn’t matter if I was my daughter’s father or not, it’s up to her mother whether I see her or not, and even, the legitimacy of her being mine was questioned, yet tests were rejected, I was lost for a while… and I drank, and meditated, and drank…

39141134-falling-wallpapers.jpg

I remember my brother and I got into a fight and I was beside myself — I didn’t remember fighting back, but I did, and for the first time stopped myself from getting shoved and pushed in the corner, but it felt wrong. This bottled up anger I gained from so many years of not fighting back, or standing up for myself, or just simply saying “No more!” had led me to a point where I felt split into two.

Once again, I stood at a point where I had a choice of the type of person I wanted to be, and I chose better. I worked on my anger, and I remember trying out so much meditation I looked at the individual reasons why I was so wound up and angry, and I let them go. I let them fucking go. Twenty damn years of being quiet, holding my tongue, thinking it wasn’t okay, and putting all these tokens into a box as if one day I would enact my revenge, and I just put the box down and let it go. All that fucking pain. I remember looking up and directing my questions at God as to why the fuck all that had to happen for me to learn how to let go, but I guess we are broken to be fixed.

So, I started breaking the habits. I got back into contact, and forgave people, and apologised to people who I felt I had unfinished business with… and though many of them seemed to think I had some ulterior motive, I didn’t, and time moved on. Suddenly, a few months down the line I had a call from social services, asking me to come in to see them.

636036866676863448904890280_Strength-of-PR.jpg

I got my life back on track… no, on track, and with a huge amount of help from my parents, my family, and those who stayed, I began taking steps forward, applied to uni, was a support worker, and every so often, I was greeted by a small smile in the mirror. When my daughter was a few months old I was asked what I wanted because so much had happened to her and her mother that she ended up in care. I wasn’t allowed to be in contact, so I wasn’t informed, but suddenly, I ended up with a six-month-old baby, seven days a week, and though I lived with my parents I tried to do it all on my own.

It was difficult, and it was hard, but it was the first person I met who helped me understand what love was and not the romantic kind, but an unconditional love, and though I felt more like I had a pet, than a mini person to look after, considering, anyone who has ever had a child, knows they pretty much poop, cry, eat, poop, and sleep, oh– and poop. Before I knew it we had our first house together, and I won custody in court.

So, it all goes fine, and though we had some hiccups, where I was attacked twice, and have dealt with some difficult financial times, managing University with a child, it took me twenty to twenty-two years to smile at myself in the mirror, and though I have a slip up here, and there, and get down, we spend the majority of our days smiling.

The sad thing for me is that I think I needed someone to rely on me, in order to give me purpose, and that my default feeling is a negative one, so it has taken a lot for me to get into a place where the only path I see forward, is one leading upward…

And here I am. I didn’t have the freedom of being able to go out at night, and I didn’t have the freedom of avoiding life whenever I pleased, and I no longer allowed myself to slope into depression, or slip into a dark place. I no longer let myself because it wasn’t only me who I had to look after. So, it’s safe to say that my daughter has helped me as much as I have helped her, if not more so. Now, I’m coming up to my third year at University, and it is hard. Sometimes, I sit here and think about stopping, but then I look her in the eyes and remember that I’m not only doing this for me but for her as well.

download.png

Separately to my daughter’s needs, I’ve changed mine this year, over other years, and it’s taken me a long fucking time to wake up. In my first year, and second perhaps, I sometimes felt envious of people who could complain about everything and never lift a finger, or people who had it so easy but had a problem, or complained about him and her… etc etc…

It got me in a habit of doing it as well since sometimes, I reflect the energy of those I’m around…

This year… I’ve been distant, and cold with mostly everyone, because of this year, this month, this week, this hour, I realised something… I’m not in competition with them, I’m not in competition with my brother anymore, or my childhood friends, I’m not in competition with anyone in my year, or in uni and I’m not in competition with my best friend.

Crossfit-chalk-hands.jpg

The only person I’ve ever been in competition with, is myself, and though I am my own worst enemy, and I have been lucky enough to see both sides of my own coin, I also know that I plan, expect, and try hard to be better than I have been, and better than the person I was before I had a child, but it doesn’t stop there… my aim is to be better than who I was yesterday, and I always see room to improve, but I always see improvement.

So, if you started reading this post thinking it would be another sad story, think again because it’s not, it isn’t, and never will be. I never thought I was strong, and I hope that one day I will see strength in me, but I know, after all this, I’m not weak. So sometimes, I ignore everyone, and sometimes, the only social ability I have in my day is reserved for my daughter, but that doesn’t mean I’m sad, it means that I’m doing more than I’m speaking, and lately, I’m fed up of speaking.

I’ve shared my aims with you in my previous posts, of my weight loss, my writing, and I’ll get them done… so it’s time to remind myself of my own advice, and get on with it, because I am slowly finding pieces of myself to put back together, and I won’t pretend I’ve done it on my own, so if you find yourself reading this, and you’re still in my life, just know that I do care, and I appreciate you, and that even if you’ve never had the opportunity to hold your hand out for me, my hand will always be holding out for you, because I’ve been where you’re standing, and you’re not alone.

My name is Daniel, and this is a summary of my story up to now. It’s time to let go of who I once was, and allow me, who I am now, to be.

That person, this person, me, is someone who will keep walking forward, and never back.

“Less talking, more doing.”

download.jpg

636036866676863448904890280_Strength-of-PR.jpg

“And those who are no longer with us, be it by choice, or otherwise… you are never forgotten.”

 

“As for those who think everything is easy for me, I hope you understand a little bit about me now, because nothing is, for me, as it was.”

Advertisements

Axing a question

Sometimes there are things in life that are a lot more difficult than they should be. Sometimes it’s an exercise where we feel that we should be able to do it, but we can’t, and other times it’s something more delicate like dating or getting to know someone.

I’d like to think that perhaps it’s just my experience of dating and a poor judge of character that’s to blame but honestly, I’m not sure where to begin. So, alas, I’m back in my rightful place– a place where I no longer wish to have a relationship and am no longer looking for someone. In fact, if something happens over the summer then so be it, but it will stay in the summer.

The last person I started to get close to have made it so difficult to ask questions that it has put me off trying to date for a while… simply because I’m either faced with a defensive attitude, extra comments, or a demanding nature, and I don’t have time for either, and I’m a bit of a prick, myself, so two negatives, in this case, don’t make a plus. In fact, I have found more anxiety, and mood swings in the last 3-4 weeks of getting to know someone than I have in the two years at University, and therefore, brought it to a close. Who really has time for it?

So, that chapter of my life may be closed but I’m sure it’ll open many more chapters in life. When you want a future entirely different to another, your personalities clash, and you are confronted by an image of confrontation, and bargaining whenever you’ve had, when in actual fact, you’ve been close to the door handle for two out of three weeks. Maybe I’m too picky or that I need to keep my mouth closed, or maybe I’m the problem, but whatever it is… I’ll handle it.

Something else recently happened, I talked to someone who just wanted to be friends and I wanted to be friends with her, but the issue for me was that when we were snapping pics back and for and hanging out, I had the same feeling I did with the last time I made a very close friend, and we all know what happened there last summer and I don’t plan on having the heartache, or the head ache. I nibbed it in the butt before it began. I know some of you may think, “What are you thinking, stopping something before it’s even begun when you’re just assuming, or speculating.” I’m thinking that I wouldn’t be able to handle another headfuck in my final year of university so I opt out. Besides, if they matter so much, they’ll boomerang back into my path eventually. Or I’ll boomerang into theirs. Sadly, it seems escaping problematic situations isn’t my strong suit.

Finally, I have a picture for you!

So, what’s the amazing thing about this sentence?

20292876_10154612906896891_967381113606748047_n.jpg

 

Happy days.

 

 

Upwards and onwards friends, it can only get better, right!?

Expectations meet Reality

I think we’re all looking for something, and the idea of looking for something, whether it’s an item, your favourite game, or the latest product in whatever aspect of our busy capitalistic lives or it could be a someone. When it is a someone I think part of us accelerates our movement, and when we find a shot of finding someone who resonates with us, we can sometimes shoot off like fireworks when we could just walk.

The problem with this is that this is an expectation that’s created by our own minds. Running and racing, pushing us down the rabbit hole of various desires, and slight obsessions, but expectations get crushed when the reality hits.

When you take two steps when you should’ve taken one, and you feel like you’re overbearing, and you step back, and then you suddenly seem like you don’t care, and then you stand there wondering how to fix the situation in front of you like it’s a problem that you can even begin to comprehend how to fix, or solve, or win.

It’s a constant tug of war, and when you meet someone who expects you to be a certain way, and you expect them to be a certain way, it can quickly become chaotic, problematic, and a little hard to handle. Arguments happen, and you go to and fro, and get in each other’s way, and if arguments start before you even become something, my advice is to walk away now because what would it be like in a few months? a few years?

So take a step back, without zooming into the distance and look at the big picture, compare what you expected, to reality, and ask yourself: “Is this what I really want” because if it isn’t, then it’s okay to step back. The bad thing to do is for either party to hold on when they’re not really interested in actually doing anything to change the direction it’s going.

This post may sound convoluted, or with dual meaning, but here’s a message for life, don’t do anything you want to do, and when you do commit to someone, if you’re like me, a commitment means commitment, not a joke so when you do feel cornered by the person you start to fall for, let them go, because love can’t survive when it’s cornered.

And if you’re the opposite, and you’re running in their direction, hands open, be prepared for a tumble and a fall, but that doesn’t mean you have to disperse and dissipate. Just look, think, and be honest with each other, and with yourself.

The thing you can do is take a step back and take in a breath of fresh air. Then, live life like a flowing river, so when you feel down, or when you feel trapped, or even when you feel scared, or driven away from what you want and what you love– remember that life is like a river– always moving. It will never be that way for long. Be like a river, and keep going.

Daniel Thomas Whittington's portrait.

“It’s a good thing I’ve stopped looking, else I’d never see.”

– Daniel Thomas Whittington.

 

P.S

 

“Cree en ti misma, y cuando tu no lo hagas, lo hare yo.”

 

It’s times like these I miss you.

I don’t know how not to be a fool

I don’t know how not to be a fool, and this is becoming more and more prevalent the older I get. The issue I have is that I feel like I’m looking in every direction but can’t seem to actually take a solid step in a single direction and in doing that I’m still at the beginning, on my front page, looking at the blank page with nothing to fill it. I have the ink or the ability to type, it’s just I’m too scared to write a destination just in case it turns my life into stone and sets the way cement does between layers of bricks.

I want to think of myself, and then let myself get involved in other people, and I don’t mean the fun parts, but the stress, the drama, and the indulgence of idleness and the worst thing I’ve learned about myself is that I reflect the people around me like a god damn mirror. It’s horrific because I see myself as someone who’s independent and had hoped that I would not be so easily influenced by my surroundings but it turns out I am.

It’s why anyone who impedes with this perfect balance of positive and negative vibes, I can’t deal with and put a thousand yards between us – because balance is something superbly difficult for me to ascertain. Once I find it, I’m not interested in losing it, but the problem is that I seem incapable of leading myself down one path. So, healthiness gets balanced by shitty eating, and intelligence gets harmed by overthinking, and assumption.

I end up in a grey area where I’m not sure where to step and what direction to take. ‘Least of all, understanding the differences between what I should do and what I can do. The issue for me is that I don’t want to be around the mediocracy of people who have hit 18-24 and have already given up on their dreams because I don’t want to give up on mine. In the last 120 days, I’ve probably met with about 8 new people who have been lovely to talk to but lack ambition, interests, hobbies, anything that makes them stand out, and it sounds horrible but I don’t want to be like that.

I mean, my interests aren’t great, but at least I’m trying things out, doing new things, and will always aim for higher than expected. I say that now because I have that mindset, but I do quite frequently stop myself by not being able to take that first step into something more than myself. I think it’s been a switch in my head that activates when I feel like something is expected of me.

My aim is to overcome that fear of stepping, and stop overthinking it, and simply… step.

Even if it’s the first step which is the hardest, I will take that step, but I do wonder how sometimes and get stuck in this grey area where both feet are off of the ground neither stepping forward or stepping back.

So, from writing this I’ve come up with a sort of solution, or at least a…. something to get my started.

  • Sleep my 8 hours a night, minimum.
  • Schedule ‘me’ time.
  • Not only look in the mirror and ask myself what I see, but ask myself for the things I don’t see, and want to see, and plan on how to get there.
  • Spend 15 minutes a night writing a journal on how my progress is doing, so I can look back and see that I am moving forward.
  • Choose a fucking path. – This one might be a good start.
  • Stop breezing through social medias whenever I think I should be doing work. Just turn the phone off, look at the screen with a bit of audacity, and write.
  • Get shit done. Even if it’s one sentence at a time, or one chapter per day, get things done!

It’s already begun, I just need to kick myself up the arse.

‘Less talking, and more doing!’

 

Water, oh noes, lemme smash, and TEST TEST

I’ve had one brilliant day today; a really good one. Flippin’ heck, as my teacher would say. Lots of things on the list of this evening’s post.

Firstly, I know we all play hot and cold due to having our very dynamic and varying moods, but it’s been a real pleasure getting to know someone new lately, in fact, I’d say it’s the most I’ve talked to someone in a few years, and if any of you know anything about me, that means more to me than looks, intellect of the ability to provide satisfaction, (tell me you didn’t say satisfaction in your head like in the song?).

18813181_1355866371167743_6558270847320804384_n (1).jpg

Moving on from that and onto my canoeing adventure today! I went out with my best buddy Conor to have a fairly fun experience canoeing down the River Wye. So, we didn’t stop off at the pub, and it was Conor’s first experience canoeing! Ha-ha, something to remember, and amongst certain conversations and a long conversation with him about someone he met, and teasing him with the meme ‘lemme smash’ which will be shown at the bottom of the post. (you’re welcome). We spent a few hours rowing down the river, and we spent a few hours, including breakfast getting there this morning.

18892971_1355866287834418_7613011947908529643_n.jpg

One of my friends, Liz, took us there, and we had a chat with her and her mum. It was a nice catch-up and I remembered why I missed seeing them so much, she used to be my neighbour and we used to see each other every day, and now, I hadn’t seen her in about a year, maybe two. That will definitely have to change!

So, after finishing the course and heading home, we missed the bus and had time so we had a lovely meal at ‘The Punch House’ in Monmouth where we ate a taverner’s chicken meal, which was what we would call Huntsman chicken, ha, can’t fool me.

Image result for the punch house

After wasting some time, we went home. I’ll be honest, the bartender scared me a little. Either she was in a mad rush, and the boss of all things in that place, or she just simply didn’t like us. Maybe she knew we weren’t from there. Who the heck knows.

After leaving Monmouth at about 4:30, we fell asleep on the bus, waking up now and then, in Usk and then Caerleon before getting back to Newport. Jeez, such a long trip. We headed to the train station and heard of a fatality halting some of the trains.

When it comes to death I feel callous and cold, and I had the opinion that people die every day, why feel sad over another one? And, I think if there was ever a Sims 3 friendship sign above our heads, it would’ve been a negative one above Conor’s. He was quite conflicted about how to feel about it. I suppose that’s the difference when you hear about several deaths on the tracks, compared to the first time. I may be a little heartless but I appreciate the tender look at life in cases like that.

After a good day out we went our separate ways, and I almost missed my stop by falling asleep, again. I got off and headed home. I realised how burnt I was, and have red marks down my wrists, face and kneecaps. I do have a tan line on my left wrist from my watch, which amused me for a little while. I know, it’s the little things, right?

I sat down for a bit, talked to a few people, casually said goodbye to two people that had been communicating with me for a while but with empty words, as if they felt they had to but weren’t interested in getting anywhere with me. I didn’t feel much about that, I guess I’m getting used to saying it now– who knows whether that’s a good thing or not.

 

In other news, I unboxed my delivery and opened my grey pair of trousers, white shirt, and waistcoat waiting for me. I’ve got to look professional when going to teach on Monday, haven’t I? Ha-ha.

Finally,

I’ve been testing out a different style of writing, one in which I don’t fluff around with the words and get straight to the point until it comes to an area of immense drama, to create a more intense atmosphere when needed.

My teacher gave my some good advice and she said, “you can’t start off with a nuclear explosion and then go back to normal.” It made a lot of sense to me.

Here’s a sample of what I’ve written, what do you think?

 

                He made her a promise; that he did, a contract so to speak, though it was more of a death wish with that woman. Thomas was a fool who promised the world a new skin. Everyone, including he knew it was impossible but still he pledged his services at an early age to a lady who caught his eye. Probably the gold of a fool that kept his eyes shining. A fool’s gold usually gets him killed, and this one will, probably.

Twelve years old, a year earlier than the rest, Thomas, a boy of pale skin, fine brown hair, and piercing green eyes knelt before a girl not a day older. She was a little different, like the consort to the most impeccable innocence. Far-stretching, but true just the same. She had raven-black hair and sapphires for eyes. She granted him a dance, and a fine one at that. They never touched, not once, but when shuffling around one another like a pair of mating birds they were connecting, something more serious, and only a touch more dangerous.

A promise is a promise and that’s just what he did, and when he leant in, their faces almost touched, but he was close enough to use that silver-tongue for something, “Open your window after the dance and come with me for a walk please?”

The young lady smiled, Freya was her name, and she liked his arrogance, and admired his courage. That was dangerous, too; more so. The men in the room chuckled, and drank themselves to sleep telling each other stories of how big and bad they were during the last war. Trinson told stories about how he stood as the big scary wolf with lightning-fast reflexes. Nilvar told stories about how he charged through a hundred men like a mighty boar with his hammer. There were seven others, whose names were not important, not to Thomas, at least, and that’s the one who stayed awake. He was watchful of Alaric’s ire, a boy a few years older who had an eye for the same girl as he, yet could not pluck the courage out of the air around him like Thomas could. Thomas had plenty of that, and if he could have only plenty of one thing it would certainly be courage. He was a fool after all.

Everyone retired to their chambers, filling the rooms of a usually empty castle, and instead of having cold stone walls like it typically felt like, it felt warm. The corridors were littered with standing torches and Thomas had to be careful. He opened the door to his chamber, cracking it open an inch before freezing. His father, Trinson turned, burping and farting his way back to sleep.

So, that’s that. I’m tired, and about to head to bed. If I’ve forgotten anything…. ah yes…

lemme smash:

It could be argued my friend is very much in this situation. heh.

Daily Prompt: Vice

via Daily Prompt: Vice

Vice…

We all have that one thing that hinders us, pushes us, lunges for us like a caged animal. The thing about a vice is that it is the dark hand on your shoulder that has a hold on you, causes your addiction, that face you pull when you smile into darkness, and it holds you in such a prison the bars seem invisible, but they are everywhere, in everything.

It can be a pull on your mind, a pull on your body, or a pull on your soul… a craving, a desire, something that draws you, and takes you in it’s arms. Drugs? alcohol? desire?

So, when do you wake up from your melancholic rage? Your sanguine desire? When do you wake up, and remember that your vice doesn’t have control of you? Can you? Can you escape the darkness once you’ve tasted it? Or is it a matter of time, just a “how long can you hold your breath?” until the tides roll over you, suffocate you, and pull you under the depths of confrontation with your demons.

Vice…

We are a collection of memories; if you could look at all of yours in a single moment, would you smile? or would you cry?

See you around cowboy/girls

PQ3z81k

Balanced? I think not.

So, sometimes I feel as warm as the sun, and other times, I’m as cool as a cucumber (excuse the pun), as cold as ice… (We’re never going to get anywhere like this)… at sub-zero… I’ll show myself out… Here’s a door:

open-door-best-design-ideas-4.jpg

I mean, just look at today…

It’s warm outside, warm in my soul… I mean, steering back to reality: It’s been a fun day; I took my daughter out to Cardiff bay, along with my buddy Conor.

Hey, look it’s Conor!

FS2Eq_0X.jpg

Well, no it’s not Conor.

Maybe slightly less hair.

Anyway, moving on; see what I mean? I told you we’ll not get anywhere tonight.

So, I want to seriously start by stating that I lost a friend today. After arranging for her to visit in September, I realised that she was using me for a bit of a back-up plan with a few friends that she felt awkward around at the time, and I could see her changing her mind about a lot of things, and messing me around. The worst thing was that she pretended to like me more than a friend, so I’d say yes to her coming, which is ridiculous, I mean if she just said she wanted to be friends I would have been more than happy to let her stay. I’m just that type of person. Cool-beans, right? (tragic)

Anyway, with that out of the way, I burned that bridge real good, ended that friendship because that’s a big no-no to me, and if I didn’t end it there I would be goose-stepping into another despicably annoying situation (Heh, walking like a goose, can you imagine?)

6837534-goose.jpg

Here’s a picture of a goose, just in case you can’t. (Heh, this one looks like he’s having a giggle, or holding someone up for bread)

Anyway, with that out of the way, my stress was halved, and I had a brilliant day, filled with sunshines and rainbows… I mean look at this:

14079915_1081068465314203_410790522187564443_n.jpg

I told you, see the rainbow, taste the rainbow. (Okay, seriously now, I will stop)

Anyway, in conclusion to my day, it’s been a pretty interesting one, and Conor is visiting me for a while, and it’s been pretty nice having someone around to talk to in the evenings as I’ve been alone most of the summer… in the evening anyway. So… it’s still a little adjustment though, being around someone else in this house is strange. It’s alien, aside from having my daughter here of course, and we all have to get used to the way things work. That’s life though.

Anyway, aside from a moody hour or two this evening, today has been a great day and I’m looking forward to doing many more things over the next year which includes going canoeing again, stepping onto the clubbing scene (How you doin’?)

63156303.jpg

Okay, I lied about stopping the puns. That one was a classic though, can you blame me?

Anyway, I’ve had enough days where I can call different shades of shit and it is definitely time to change the way I see my days now, and move on.

I had a conversation with an ex of mine over trying again, and I couldn’t take a single step down that road; she messaged me, and all I could think about was how awkward it was reading the words she wrote. I knew she hadn’t ‘changed’ I mean, a leopard and it’s spots and all that jazz.

Here’s a leopard:

3b90e542518dc9091bd0dafec80f862d.jpg

Look! This one has a happy hat.

Anyway, back on point; it’s easy to say yes to something that won’t work, because you may miss someone, or even have some form of inclin of memory, but it takes a better person to say no to something that you do not feel 100% about, regardless of how it affects them, or yourself, knowing it will only make things worse. If you have to ruin yourself to help another, you’re doing it wrong, and I certainly do value my sanity recently.

Furthermore? Yes, there’s more, always is.

I want to work on myself, I know I’ve been belching the same theme for the last three months, but it’s imperative that we all work on ourselves, and after a decent chat with a friend through fb this evening, I understand that this is something I definitely want to do, seeking happiness for yourself, is a must. For, you do not want to enter a relationship, depending on the other person for happiness, it’s not what it is about. Even if it takes 20 years for me to find that place in my life, I don’t care. If someone comes along and adds to my life, not take away, I’ll be fine, but I won’t be compromising my own happiness, anymore. Fuck the ghosts of my past, they are ghosts for a reason, and now… on that note… they can perish like the mother fuckers they are.

Hasta la vista, mujeres.

Terminator-2-judgement-day.jpg

So, those of the people in my life who walk with me on this journey of mine for the better, are more than welcome. I will always be there for those who treat me with respect. I know a certain person will read this, and feel a bit worried, if she isn’t covering her face with a very hard slapping hand right now… but, here’s a message to the people in my life who really are trying to add to it, I don’t know where I’d be without you all:

fcdcc0bc2da70d16a36a4a7ff94dc52a.jpg

One day I will find the ying to my yang, but until then, I’ll stride on the waves of life.

yin_yang_city_2_by_dudemansam-d61twxg.jpg

 

I’ll see you around, cowboys/cowgirls.

PQ3z81k.jpg

A Father’s Duty P.1

It had been two years since I said goodbye to you. Two years since I had last seen your face. I would say I had hoped that you would endure the recent winter. It was harsh, and you were alone, but I know you; I didn’t need to hope- I knew you would survive.

My son would be two years old now. I had been doing my last duty as the King’s hand, and guardian of Sweden. I had been in a state of peril for far too long. Danish troops had infiltrated our land, and have been working their way north. I can’t figure out what they’re searching for though. They seem precise, only killing people who have direct connection to certain people. I am not quite sure who that is though.

My name is Trinson Vargr, and I have been on their trail for the last year. I have tallied twenty seven soldiers in my book. I should not need to fight. I should return to the King, while I still can. I’ve been watching this group move, for some time, and after today, I will be able to go home, for I’m sure that the leader of the group will show up.

“Lennart, where do you want the black powder?”

Lennart? I pondered. It couldn’t be the little boy that I spared in the war, could it? Son of King Harold. “That bastard. I knew I should’ve killed him.” I needed to get a closer look, and a description of him. I scaled into the trees. I had already set-up small iron nails, to help me climb. They had been in place for weeks. My white cloak was now full of mud, and I looked more like a swamp-monster, than a white wolf.

I looked around me, and aside from the tall ash trees, that I balanced on, I observed the twenty or so men stacking weapons, shields, and repairing their armour. They were preparing for battle. I needed to leave, to report to the King, but also, I needed to see whether this was the same kid I let live.

“Lennart, the black powder is in place.” a soldier announced to someone standing behind the tent.

I looked to the tree next to me, it was close enough to jump to. I had to get eyes on him. I pressed my hand firmly against the bark of the tree. I weighed myself down, on the thicker branch, and leaped across. My hands reached the tree, but I slipped. I scuffed my boots on the bark, and grazed my hands. It was nothing. Luckily, I remained unnoticed. I waited for the man to get back up, he was bent over behind the tent, checking the containers. When he stood up, it could easily be seen. The square jaw of a man of stature. The well-combed thin blonde hair, and the same complexion as his father, King Harold. This was Prince Lennart. The younger brother over the present King of Denmark.

“He must be here as an act of espionage.” I muttered.

He had grown so much. He stood perhaps a whole foot higher than his father. “Perhaps, six foot seven. By Thor, he’s practically a giant.”

A soldier approached the tree I was clung to. I was well hidden, and thanks to the leaves, I remained so. I had the information I needed, now I needed to leave…

 

Words of the day

Now, I thought it’d be nice to have a little message, each day for people who need a helping hand, or to know that someone cares.

And here it is:

Whenever you feel like giving up, whether it because you have felt like death has followed you lately, or whether you feel like your friends have abandoned you, or even if you simply feel alone. Know that there are people who are there to speak to. But more importantly, don’t forget to speak to yourself.

You might think that is strange, and I don’t mean in the slightly scary way of Schizophrenic battles of the mind, but remember to listen to yourself, for what you think you want, can be so much different from what you need. Do you need some space? some isolation to get over something? Then give yourself it, don’t cling to other people, just sigh, give a deep breath, and have a day to yourself.

What you’ll find is that you’ll have a moment of realization, where that puzzle in your head fixes itself, because you allowed yourself some time to accept the events that have happened, and you will be open to moving forward, rather than being stuck, alongside the ghosts of your past.

And when you feel you need someone to talk to, and if you don’t have anyone there, I will be. Remember, that is all starts with you.

So…

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