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.

 

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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…

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.”

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“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.”

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.

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

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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:

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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!

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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?)

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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:

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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’?)

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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:

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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.

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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:

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

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I’ll see you around, cowboys/cowgirls.

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Depth

Response to Daily post’s ‘Depth’

 

Depth…

 

Depth…

 

Depth…

 

Is depth definable by how many layers you have on your skin, to your core? Or is depth definable by observing, calculating how deep you can go into the darkest waters that circulate like drool around our planet?

So, what is depth?

I tell you something, I whisper in your ear, I say, “Do what you think is right. You don’t need to help me.”

Inside, I think, “As long as they are happy, then I can manage my own problems. It doesn’t matter about mine.”

Further, inside, you’re panicking; you’re worrying. You have fear.

Further down, inside the darkest pits of fear, as your body is still stuck in the moments where the words, protective of others in nature slither out from your lips, you meet your monster, demon, darkness, inside your head, your mind, your inner-world.

You stand, head-to-head, face-to-face, with your shadow-self, your doppelganger, your adversary. The one who takes over when you’re defeated.

It warns you not to push people away.

It warns you what will happen if you don’t open up.

It warns you, what madness waits for you, if you don’t open your mouth, and speak.

You strike your foe, your shadow so hard that it dissipates to dust.

You come out of your world, your mind, and you look at the friend in front of you and you gulp down such fears, such worries, such feelings, and say, “I will always be here for you, so go do what you think is right, and if you ever need to talk, I’m here.”

Suddenly, your problems relieve you from your duty, for just a moment.

But bit by bit, the light, the balance of light, and darkness in your soul, is breaking, and darkness is seething through.

This is depth. Not everything you hear, is what a person is. Some people cannot communicate, but others are strong enough not to. If you ever find a person strong enough to deceive you, to promise you they are okay, when they’re not. Look into their eyes, and see the truth behind them. Just be there. Depth, is having many layers, and you may have only met one.

 

Cowardice

Response to The Daily Post‘s cowardice.

Cowardice:

I had never thought about how I harboured cowardice. I thought myself strong, tough, sensitive, but never cowardly.

Cowardice, is not being able to make a choice. Cowardice, is being afraid to take a step. Cowardice, has been me.

I’ve always wanted to change, but never took the steps necessary to do so. By that, even with my weight training, or losing the weight I have, I always let myself get distracted. Back in May, and June, I was a headstrong person, who started believing in himself. I had such promise, and conviction in myself. I mean, fuck, I didn’t need anybody. What a facade that was.

When a woman I was getting far too close to, reciprocated feelings for me, which at that moment in time, felt absolutely perfect, which, I would love to lie, and pretend they didn’t, and I would love to tell you some bullshit story about how I am strong enough not to let something so simple as a couple of intimate moments with a woman to get me down so much, but I’d be lying. And lying, is something I am very good at, but also hate, with a passion.

Now, I’m discussing cowardice because it is a word that has resembled the way I have been with those around me. I should strong-arm through my day, like I would have done, once upon a time, but I didn’t, I haven’t, I wouldn’t, and I couldn’t.

All the ifs, and buts have nothing on me. I’ve been living in a liminal stage of life for a very long time. I’ve held onto people that I should have let go of perhaps a life-time, or two ago.

Cowardice something that we shall never be able to run from.

Cowardice something that will hunt us, the further we walk from it.

Cowardice That trapped feeling, breathless, inescapable.

You know, sometimes, I feel trapped with my circumstances, with my life, but I will forever be the person who is trapped by choice. I know it’s bad to say, or sad to say, and don’t get me wrong, I love my little family, of us two, but sometimes, I can’t help but feel exhausted.

That being because I made that choice, I never had a chance to let go of the ghosts in my past, and I’m never truly alone with my thoughts long enough to mourn them, and then let go of them, so they follow me, almost haunting me. I say, almost.

Back to the woman, the point is that instead of being strong enough to let it go, walk away, and forget about feelings that will have me enthralled, I end up dooming myself by pushing myself into such a path that beckons me to suffer. I don’t take the time I need away from that person, those people. I end up swaying, like a ship in the water, on the edge of a pressure plate, deciding whether to float to the left, or to the right. And, that’s simply how it is. I’m not mad with her, in fact, she’s been rather awesome about it all. Been really pleasant, and kind to me.

It’s more so, my cowardice that I’m scared of burning a bridge. I’ve thought I was getting pretty good at burning bridges, turns out I always leave something closing the space between two islands. Even if it is but the size of a string.

And, this is the adverse effect of being a fool, a foolish bloody fool who puts themselves out there for everyone to hold onto, but I refuse to put my hand out to someone, for myself, permanently, because I’ve never had someone stay, and I’ve never had someone choose me. This isn’t a hit to anyone, just simply the truth.

It’s my cowardice that stops me from being able to let go of the people who easily let go of me. It’s for that, that I end up trapped in the past, in the memories, in people like you. But, that gets lost, combined with this feeling I’ve felt since I was a young pup.

Thanks to a friend today, I have a word for it:

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Yearning for something that may not have even existed. Mourning over another life maybe? Who the fuck knows. But, what that means, is that I’ve not let go of whatever it is, and if I never find it? I never find that other half of me that completes my soul, I don’t think I’d last very long. Like a lonely budgie in a cage on its own.

So, what is my cowardice?

  • Not being able to tell people what I truly think.
  • Not being able to tell the people I care about, how I feel, for fear of losing them, like it happens on repeat.
  • For being careless, and not being attentive, just in case I get too close to someone
  • For wanting love, but also fearing love.
  • For not being able to let go of certain things in my life
  • For looking for something I’ll never have.
  • Not being happy with myself, and seeking others to fill the gap.
  • For trying, and trying, failing, and failing, and wondering why I should even get back up again…
  • For not stepping a foot out of this country
  • For being too scared to push myself in a direction, for my footsteps will become stone
  • For being too weak, to believe in myself
  • For not walking forward.
  • I noticed it more lately, when I get heart palpitations when you ask me what’s wrong, and I’m not able to say, but more so, I just don’t want to be vulnerable again.
  • It’s cowardice I am scared to become vulnerable, and in being scared of being vulnerable, of being open, I am vulnerable. Ironic, eh?
  • Not being able to stick to my own rules.
  • Being too scared to try my best, and put everything.
  • It’s the idea that when someone promises you they will be there for you, you can’t believe them, because you’re afraid of letting someone too close.
  • For that, I don’t think there will ever be someone out there who truly understands me, who gets me, though, I think the only person I’d want that person to be is someone I get married to.

That is my cowardice, and I hope that one day it changes. Without a doubt, I will try my best to change it… So, I’ve let cowardice take over lately, one bump in the road after a while, and I hate it. So, I’m going to change it, and stop letting myself get pushed into the ground, and stop being taken advantage of, and stop letting empty thoughts, and feelings, win.

My next post, will be how I’m going to change it. And this time, I will damn-well rise above it, for me, and no-one else. I’m taking a break from stretching my mind too thin, and trying to reach out to people. I’m taking a break from looking to other people… It’s time to listen to myself, and reach inside of me. Who am I? and what do I want?

Believe in yourself, for when you don’t, I will. But right now… I’m going to finally try and fix my broken pieces.

A thousand apologies

What do you say to someone who asks you why you no longer have a smile on your face, or joy in your eyes? How do you tell them its because your heart is closed, perhaps, even broken? What do you say to those people in the street, who you pass and they shout, “Smile!” What do you say? I doubt I’ve cracked a smile in the last eight years. Since the day they took you from me. Since I lost myself, driving them away.

It is hard not to become a monster, not to plunge your teeth into your enemies, and take from them everything. But, we do not start like this, in fact, I wonder whether I even noticed at the time, that I was losing my mind, and becoming a monster. I wonder whether I had known what would happen to me, but knowing me? Knowing the great Thomas Vargr, the great ‘fool’, I did, do, and always will know the path in front of me. I often wonder whether there is a small fraction of myself that hates me, that really hates me; whether it pushes me down paths like these for fun, or just to see if I would break, or grow stronger.

I don’t know whether it is jealousy, but I know it is there. There’s something. When I look into a clear lake, and see the reflection of myself, I notice a small glint in my eye, even when I’m at my lowest, my darkest, or my hardest times. It is like some part of me, somewhere, is enjoying my pain. Could it be so? Something inside of us all that stands against us? I hope it isn’t just me.

It’s something I wish I could talk to Lisett about. It is something I wish I could ask her. She seemed to know more about me than anyone else. She seemed to understand that darker side. I remember when I walked with her, even when we fought, we both had that sinister darkness inside us. We enjoyed the fight, the pain we caused, and the pain we received. The cuts, the slashes, the bruises, the broken bones. We were like vampires of the soul, manipulating the un-shielded, the weak.

I caught up to her for a while, but even she too, could not handle those chasing me. They are still hunting me down, after all these years. It had been eight years since I had killed their king. Even though, I could have stayed around, and usurped the throne, I would be no better. I would be no proper, and decent King. I am not my father, and even though he was no king, he naturally brought people together. He could have handled it, this, but not me.

What I would do, for another conversation with you Trinson. I wonder what your words of wisdom would be like. Probably something like this “Get up boy, stop being foolish, and start being strong. Your grandfather would be disappointed that his grandson looks at the world in such dis-taste. You get up, peel the mud from your body, clean the blood, forgive, and forget, and then confront the ghosts of your past, the demons of your mind… and conquer them.”

I lost to my demon though. I mean, it was a fair fight, but circumstances tore me in half, and my stronger half won. That was all. I lost what was most important to me, and something in me snapped. I couldn’t hold in my anger anymore, and it consumed me, until I took my revenge… then all I had left, was sadness.

I tried seeking out the witches who tried to find me. I came across one in a pub down south. She was crazy,

“Thomas, There are people coming for us, people, like you and me. They are coming to destroy us, take our souls. You must not let them. Please, we’re gathering the remaining covens of witches, and fleeing to a place deemed safe. One of our members owns an island to the east. Come to us when you feel most alone. We won’t shy you away.”

I didn’t believe her. I scoffed at her, mistakenly. And, when I didn’t go with her, I found a deep sorrow, for reasons I was not aware of at the time. It was like, the chains of my soul, which connected to all things, lost something I deemed precious. I visited the island last year. Nothing was left, except the hanging bodies of women, crucified, hung from the trees they cultivated, and left on the floor, in pieces.

What was I supposed to do with this sadness, this knowledge? Was I responsible? My actions, as the second white wolf? The devil of the North? or would it have happened regardless of my actions?

I should have performed a ritual on them, to cleanse the area, and release them from this world, but part of me grew so dark, I felt I was not able to do such things, that I had no right to, anymore. Alessandra, Beatrice, Kristel, Linnea, Lucille, Sera, Thara, Valencia, I am sorry. I hold no right to seek forgiveness, for not being there to protect you. Even though I made those vows to you, as a protector, when I was a boy. I didn’t see it as something serious back then, but I am sorry.

As for my last apology… It is directed at you, my lady, my Freya. I don’t know what pulled me to you in this life, and it didn’t matter who I was attracted to, or who held my attention, none held it quite like you, and you were everything I needed to fight back my demons, and you made me strong. Protecting you, was what held me together, and gave me purpose.

I am just sorry I failed you… please don’t chase me anymore… please, don’t follow me, for when I look at you, I see regret, and I see failure. I cannot take your pain, not can I take your scars away. I failed. I am not the man my father thought I was. I can barely protect myself…

I am at the end of my travels. I will try my best to end the revenge-killings, and then I will leave this world, for good, this time.

 

 

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.

Just a ripple in the ocean

The problems I keep coming across is that I find getting close to people who don’t really care that much about me. I mean, don’t get me wrong… sometimes I come across friends who try, for a while, or I come across people who tell me they are always there, but in actual fact is anyone really there when you need them?

When you’re sat up thinking, even when you mention it to those friends who tell you once a week that they are there for you. I find myself dealing with every problem I ever come across, alone. Whether it be because the people around me are too busy to reply, or whether being there for me is just what they think I want to hear. Who knows, really. 

What I will say though, is that whenever I ultimately put my trust in someone and start believing in someone, that they will be there for me when I need them I find it drives a wedge between us. 

What I have come to realise lately is that sometimes we hold onto things, people and idealisms that put more darkness into our souls than light. That for me, is where I have my downfall.

I hold onto people from my past, even when I think I don’t. Giving an example: The person I used to tell everything to. What I find is that I get asked about my problems for gossip sake, as opposed to actually trying to help. Sometimes, it does help just to write them out to someone, but in most cases, it doesn’t.

Now, there are others who let me talk for the world but have nothing to say. Now, I appreciate the fact people listen, but I want someone who can give as much as they take… so to speak. I don’t want to talk about me, I want to know about you. 

Now, as of late, for the better part of a year I feel that I have lacked a certain substance in my conversations. It is like people are so defensive they can’t talk openly with people anymore. Even words so simple as, “how are you?” get a dodgy reply of “why?” and anything further? just seems to them like you are digging for gold…

All I know is that for everyday I get ignored, or people looking at me stupid for being nice, or assuming I am after something because I am not afraid of complimenting someone, I feel more attuned to understanding, and trusting myself. It will get to a point where I will stop trying with these people. So, when I read your words and don’t reply, when I stop saying goodnight, and good morning, when I stop trying… Then you’ll know you’re one of the people that pushed me towards self-reliance, and loss oh hope in those who have crossed paths with me.

I will always be there for as many people as I can, but it is about time I stop being a sap for people to piss on when they “find someone better”.
So, whether we have not yet crossed paths, or have crossed paths already, if you don’t like this post, then prove me wrong?
Believe in yourself, for when you don’t, I will. This is just one brick in a very long wall. 
It is time I move on from the ghosts of my past.

On fire

So… the post I wrote yesterday was an explanation of how I write when I’m tired. By that, I mean, I talk the most bullshit when I am more exhausted than a squirrel that is on-a-down from drinking a barrel full of coffee. Furthermore, when I wrote an email to someone, I had to erase six paragraphs because I started writing about the war. What war you ask? I have fought no war. So, a little note for me:

Don’t write when you’re tired. Doughnut.

Now that that is out of the way. Let us carry on.

Where to begin, where to start? This morning, I woke up, still tired, but in a good mood. I forgot to wash my clothes as I had a long weekend away and I’ve just put them up now, so I couldn’t go to the gym. I cleaned my house instead. It’s been a good sweep. I found some cool stuff I forgot, and my wardrobe collapsed on me when I tried to move it. If you’re thinking of taking the easy way out by moving a canvas wardrobe with all the clothes still in there… don’t. It will end in your demise, sort of.

Other than moving stuff around, it has been a little bit of a slow day. I have come back to my mountain behaviour, and I will get up tomorrow, and things will return to the way they were.

The thing I realised over the weekend is that there is an underlying something, that’s just not talked about with my brother, because when we went out in the evening, I found that he met many people he knew, and stood in front of me when talking to them. To top it off, he never introduced me to a single person, aside from someone who knew my parents, but that’s because they greeted me.

It was a surprising realisation as he’s always so quick to meet my friends, and people I know… But hey, I guess that is just the way it is.

Other than that, I am aiming to walk forward, and improve myself, just as I started out trying to. Focus on myself for a change, as even when I tell myself to, I seem to always digress onto other people. It would be nice if I could concentrate for longer than five minutes.

Even though I’m working on myself, this will always stand:

Believe in yourself, for when you don’t, I will; this is but one brick in a very long wall.