Just Hold On

When you’re all alone, exhausted and having lost faith in people, in the world and in good

When hope is the road untraveled

When objects of inspiration begin to dishearten

When you’re broken and can’t articulate why

When you become a stranger in your own home

When you realise time is moving but you’re still stuck

When you’re lost and the destination is unknown

When they break promises to always be there

When you render yourself powerless

When natural saviours become spectators of your self-destruction

When you realise you’ve always been and always will be a one-woman army

When you don’t belong anymore

When pain cuts through the surface once more

When there is no where left to run

When peace implodes

When you realise you probably deserved it

When energy to feel deserts you

…Just hold on

 

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Dark winged star

 

Dark winged star

 

Eyes wet

Thoughts scattered

Heart bruised

Hopes shattered

 

Distant memories

Of all that used to be

How it was

The girl that was me

 

Silent shadows

Echo

Hollow ghosts

Of everything that’s no more

 

Darkness

Fills the space

In which I sit

Keeps me company

For just a bit

 

Still

Somehow

So alone

 

Cold mist

Materializes,

The window

Its canvas

 

Hazing my vision

But what does it matter

Clarity divorced me

Long ago

 

Regret befriends hope

False friendships form

Inherently destructive

 

Time to leave?

 

Why

When Destruction

Still

Makes me feel so alive

 

City lights

Outside my window

Yet so far

Like all good things

 

Dreams

Out of reach

 

My mind wanders

Takes a walk

Down these streets before me

As I sit

Same place as years ago

 

Maybe that decision

Made then

Was wrong

Like me

 

Soon enough

Possibility breaks heart

Cracks uncovered

It hurts once more

 

I look up

By chance

A shining light

Catches my eye

Unusually bright

 

A plane?

No

It’s still

Stationary

 

A star?

 

I disbelief

For a moment

Hesitant to believe

 

I give away faith way too easy

 

Moments later

It still remains

Stationary

 

A sign?

 

A smile appears

I look down

Dry my eyes

 

Reassured

I look up

Once more

 

It’s gone

 

The dark winged star

Flew away

 

Deceived

Again

Just like before

 

It left

Just like the rest

 

 

Dark winged star

 

Eyes wet

Thoughts scattered

Heart bruised

Hopes shattered

 

Distant memories

Of all that used to be

How it was

The girl that was me

 

Silent shadows

Echo

Hollow ghosts

Of everything that’s no more

 

Darkness

Fills the space

In which I sit

Keeps me company

For just a bit

 

Still

Somehow

So alone

 

Cold mist

Materializes,

The window

Its canvas

 

Hazing my vision

But what does it matter

Clarity divorced me

Long ago

 

Regret befriends hope

False friendships form

Inherently destructive

 

Time to leave?

 

Why

When Destruction

Still

Makes me feel so alive

 

City lights

Outside my window

Yet so far

Like all good things

 

Dreams

Out of reach

 

My mind wanders

Takes a walk

Down these streets before me

As I sit

Same place as years ago

 

Maybe that decision

Made then

Was wrong

Like me

 

Soon enough

Possibility breaks heart

Cracks uncovered

It hurts once more

 

I look up

By chance

A shining light

Catches my eye

Unusually bright

 

A plane?

No

It’s still

Stationary

 

A star?

 

I disbelief

For a moment

Hesitant to believe

 

I give away faith way too easy

 

Moments later

It still remains

Stationary

 

A sign?

 

A smile appears

I look down

Dry my eyes

 

Reassured

I look up

Once more

 

It’s gone

 

The dark winged star

Flew away

 

Deceived

Again

Just like before

 

It left

Just like the rest

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Maybe you’ll all see me when I’m gone.

Words of kindness hold no meaning. Not from a stranger, friend nor foe; it’s all weightless. No amount of appreciation empowers me, nor do I find any self-worth in that fleeting moment of thoughtfulness.

The best part of my energy spent cleaning off those dirty smudges festering on my glassy surface. Unclean fingerprints signify the ones who left me polluted, small cracks reflect the battles once won along with their trail of pain. So I clean both inside and out, morning and night, solely for their benefit; I need them to see into the home which I call my heart. As always though, my attempts seem to go unnoticed, just like the chains of control when I’m stationary.

My newly achieved transparency remains unobserved, almost as if reality has decided to substitute itself with distortion; blurred perceptions of the truth are all that the onlooker can see, even through this clear window. Maybe the fog of disdain and shame alter their vision. But knowing fault is inherent within their eyes still provides no comfort. Why is every action so misunderstood, every good intention overlooked and every word twisted? Why can’t they see me clearly for who I am?

There is only so much external force this window can take, only so much resistance I have within me to keep its pane intact. It’s amazing how fragile these glass fibres are individually and how much they can withstand when they unite. Maybe that’s the secret they try so hard to whisper to us, but even they can only go unheard for so long before they each give way. So they shatter silently inwards, a direction of my choice. At least this way damage is minimal to those nearby. I receive the broken pieces with a bittersweet welcome; I knew it was only a matter of time before these unwelcomed guests arrived.  The shards of jagged glass cut me in places unknown, concealed with precision; invisible, especially to the blind eye. Pain is always a good distraction; the physical sting trumps the verbal twinge and so harsh words don’t bite like the winter cold anymore. In the end when all is said and done, bitter words of disappointment remain within the cavities of the heart, just as its scars do on my skin.

I didn’t want to cause all this destruction. All I wanted was for you to see me.

I hate that it matters so much to me. Why can’t I just ignore it? I always was a sucker for words; I guess that’s why their emotional blackmail has never seen the frightening face of failure. Words begin dictating my actions, all the while fuelling my anger against my own weakness. Repression of my dreams and desires sets the bar. I’ve been a slave to this guilt trip for far too long. I yearn for emancipation but it does not come.

She said I am my own worst enemy. Maybe she’s right. When control slips through my fingers, it is the component of restraint which is the hardest to grasp on to. Like all things this too takes practice, but I have managed to master some sort of technique over the years; even if it is as pathetic as this one. Inevitably though, all pathetic things fail.  And this kind of failure is definitely visible. Unlike the cracks upon the window, each of these lines mark a battle lost, whilst commemorating another one of their victories. They know what’s at stake, which makes it even sadder that we have to play this game. I guess the satisfaction of power will be bought at any price.

Occupied or not, my mind always resorts back to that place in which it tries to find the reasons why. Over the years that list has remained just about constant; so if I know the face of my enemies why can’t I just begin to exterminate them one by one?

These enemies were born from a combination of things, things which are so separate that they each speak in different languages. Single yet so interlinked that their bonds are unbreakable, especially when subjected to my inadequate strength. I do not have the patience or the power to deal with them. There is no energy left here to sift them out from one another so I can confront them head on like I please. I have tried and failed many times. This time I’m done trying. They say standing up each time you fall makes you stronger. They’re right, it does. But as always I forget to read the small print; that strength is only designed to remain for a short while. It’s fleeting, just like affection these days.

The shackles of guilt and self-hatred bind me so tight I struggle to breathe. Its iron chains suffocate any part of me that has managed to survive this long. Maybe this is a good place. If I’m gasping for breath then maybe my other survival instincts will kick into place and kick me out of this one. If I’m gasping for breath then at least I haven’t managed to drown. Yet.

The silence is the worst. It signifies punishment for things that happened long ago. Things which I thought I made peace with. But how can I lay my demons to rest if every encounter is a reminder of a love tainted by repulsion. A repulsion so strong it awakens even the heaviest-sleeping demons.

I know I make you sick. At least that’s something we both share.

Maybe it wasn’t right, but it wasn’t so bad. It could have been a hell of a lot worse. But you don’t see that, just like you don’t see me for who I am and everything I could be. It makes me want to stop trying; nothing seems to matter as much without your seal of approval. I can’t stand being invisible any longer. I think I might just fade along with my shadow under this winter sky. Some things hurt a little too much, a little more than I can handle.

The hatred in your silence speaks volumes. If things continue this way I know there’ll come a day when I’m no longer around; be it by choice or by force. I just hope that the door I exit through leads onto some sort of a path and not onto that cliff edge which I seem to be peering over all too often lately. Your stubbornness and self-proclaimed righteousness might one day be the reason you watch the most precious thing you brought into this world walk out of your life.

Even those who promised to be here are out of sight. I’m not surprised.

Maybe you’ll all see me when I’m gone.

 

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Her name is Acceptance

My energy levels always seem to be at their lowest on Fridays for some strange reason. Maybe because I give all I can to the week. But my guess is that spending the night on the cold hard floor in campus as part of the student occupation didn’t help. The student occupation in part of the university campus in now in its third day in hopes that something can be done to stop the three-fold rise in tuition fees, education cuts and implementation of the London living wage for all campus cleaners and kitchen staff.

The commute home was peaceful, despite the awful racket of the tube. Sleep deprived for over 24-hours, hood up, headphones in; I was feeling quite content despite knowing I was going home to an angry house. Finally over-ground, I welcomed the radiating warmth of the sun on this viciously cold winters day; I couldn’t wait to get into my bed, my sanctuary.

Going to sleep while the sun shines through your window and then waking up to a cold dark room isn’t too uplifting. I didn’t have any plans for the evening so I thought I’d check in on a good friend of mine. She has recently gone through a bad break up and isn’t in the greatest of ways. Plus, I haven’t been a very good or available friend lately, I needed to fix this.

It amazed me to see how many doors an intense conversation can open. It’s funny. Tonight was supposed to be about my friend, her heartache and fears, not mine. But I guess like all good things in life, revelations stained with a harsh truth are never far away.

Tonight I realised I want a break from myself and my bullshit. There’s someone in me who I want to find. I know she exists because she comes and goes. I just wish she’d be committed enough to stay, to believe in me a little more.

Tonight I also realised that maybe I’m the one keeping her away. Maybe it’s time to be ok with the things I am and all the things I may never be. Maybe acceptance will lead me to realise that all the flaws which I so truly despise are actually skid-marks of beauty in disguise. Maybe acceptance will show me the way home.

If you open your eyes wide enough you will see that this world will always give your heart a million reasons to be heavier than its physical weight.

Lately, I’ve been filling my life up to the brim with things to do until priorities begin to overflow. It helps. I tend to focus my energies on tackling the things which need to be done and so I don’t think so much. I like that. But the absence of thought is only temporary, as is positivity and direction. I hate the constant ups and downs these days. Feeling lost and needing to belong somewhere.  Sometimes I want so much. Sometime I want absolutely nothing.

Despite the abundance of things to keep me occupied, the days always start to feel empty after a while. Faith in God, life and good things reaches a trough. Hope and direction suffocates underneath doubt and anxiety. Again, I find myself at those ugly dirty dark places that I’ve come to know all too well over the past few years.

Eventually either my perspective or situation changes. When it does I find the strength to leave these places, but still I cannot be proud of walking away; I know it’s only temporary, I know I will be back again. But I’m here today because I’ve escaped before and this reassures me; it tells me I have it in me to escape again. I won’t let the dark thoughts or dirty places imprison me. I will not be bound by them again. Things are different this time because I’m different this time.

I grew up a shy and sheltered little girl. It’s ironic; I don’t think I could have been anymore different to that than I am now. Even though that makes many people in my life wary and unhappy, something my friend said made me realise that I don’t have to apologise for the person I’ve become.

‘I’m proud of you. You’re not who you were this time last year. You’re taking control of who you are, and this is what has inspired me. You’re asking yourself, who do I want to be? What do I want to stand up for? You might not be standing up for the right things but you are figuring it out, that’s the point.’

Somewhere in me it felt good to hear this. But that feeling was bound to a slight sadness; ‘If that’s the case, why can’t I seem to inspire myself’ I thought.

Sometimes I just want to go to a place where there are no thoughts. A place where there are no troubles. A place where I can cleanse myself under a huge tide that will wash away all the frustration and leave me refreshed, full of clarity and hope. Thinking just seems to be an unproductive vicious little bitch that brings her unwelcome entourage of negativity, misery and sadness along with her.

Me and my friend, we’re both similar in that respect; we think and worry all too much. I figured out the only way to fix this is to just stop thinking and stop feeling sometimes. We need to find that switch which turns it all off for a while and give it a good old flick, relish in the peace.

And soon enough, the tangled lines of hurt and confusion will eventually create a fragile stillness. A place for reflection and a chance for clarity. I hope.

I hope that this place will peel away all the layers of doubt and strip us to our natural selves. A process which reminds us of who we are and what needs to be done if we’re not where we want to be yet.

Tonight reminded me we are not always as alone as we think we are, ‘We are here for each other but we forget that. You’ve forgotten that in the last two months’.

I tried explaining how much I’ve had on my plate lately but I know everything I said just sounded like pathetic excuses. I’ve probably spent half of my weekends over the last two months staying in bed. It looked like this weekend wasn’t going to disappoint the unhealthy trend. ‘It’s achieved nothing. It would have meant a lot to me if you spent it with me. It would have meant a lot to your family if you spent it with them’. My friend was right, I was being selfish. I had every reason to feel guilty.

I need to change this. I need to change all the things which are making me destroy friendships, destroy my studies, and destroy me. Today I vow to try and make peace with the demons, to try and release the insecurities, to try and forget about the things which may never happen.

Don’t ask life for too much. ‘You’re a powerful person. You might not see it, but I see it. And I know other people around you see it too. You’re a special person’. Sometimes we just need to remind ourselves of this, that our natural selves are truly unbreakable.

At times things can get too much. We question ‘why me’. We want to get away from it, or just not be here at all.  What makes it worse is that other people seem to be getting along with life just fine. But we never stop to think that maybe other people might be worse off than we are? What if their smiles just hide their pain better? I’m guessing if we all wrote our problems down and placed them in a hat, only to pick out someone else’s problem at random, we would happily take our own paper back and run away with it as far as our legs could carry us.

Sometimes, all we need is a time-out, to let our minds rest, let our hearts heal. We need to let go of the bittersweet past because only then can we free ourselves of the doubt which tells us we can’t be who we want to be, that we can’t be where we want to. My friend explained the beauty of a new day,

‘You’re someone new today’….‘Am I really though?’ I thought….‘Only if you want to be’.

I’m trying to find solace in the tranquillity of this idea.

Maybe she’s right; maybe I can change my tomorrow.

I guess we’re living in uncertainty aren’t we? Am I going to graduate? Is she going to get better? Am I going to find that special someone? Is he going to leave when he sees who I really am? Are they ever going to truly accept me?

Are we going to have to give up the people we care about to pursue what makes our hearts less heavy? Are we going to have to give up our security in order to emancipate ourselves as we reach for that place of inner-freedom? Are we going to have to sacrifice our own happiness for the sake of others?

The scary thing is that we just don’t know. In some ways I guess this is the beauty of uncertainty. Embrace this.

Don’t underestimate people. Give them a chance. They might just surprise you. We’re all human; we weren’t born to click with everyone. We need to find the strength to build bridges despite all the doubt. Because only when we have built those bridges can we know how to support each other, how to be there for each other, what the essence of true friendship really is. Maybe being dependant on others isn’t such a bad thing after all. The bridges built with blood, sweat and tears are those which form the strongest connections, the truest of bonds.

Another fear both me and my friend share is about the future. We know what we want but we worry we won’t get there. Our insecurities and fears of inadequacy dishearten us, leaving us stranded in that place between desire and heartbreak. But our conversation made me realise something; you don’t have to quit and you don’t have to be perfect. Life is a spectrum; maybe it’s ok to be at the bottom. We might not be good enough but we weren’t born to give up.

Life isn’t easy. Every day it slaps u a thousand times. Especially if you let it. But sometimes we need to lose our footing, stumble and lose hope in order to stand up again; because it is only when we stand up that we can walk the path to our dreams.

See yourself, know you exist. Don’t carry more than you can handle. Your shoulders were meant to hold your head up high; they can’t do that if they are carrying a great burden.

Maybe it’s fine to be lonely. Maybe it’s ok to let people in. Maybe it’s good to hurt. Maybe weakness will leave with the winter.

But when it does get too much, just stop. Lock your head. Breathe in, breathe in, breathe out. And remember:

‘I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.’ – William Ernest Henley

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Education is a right, not a privilege.

Police kettling

I’m reeling. Bloody outraged. I cannot describe the anger pulsating through every inch of my body right now. My head is throbbing with fury.

Wednesday 24th November, today was the nationwide demonstration against new plans to triple student tuition fees and cut education funding by this new Conservative-Liberal Democrat coalition government (otherwise known as the CON-DEMS).

I have been intending to go to this protest all week but decided last night that I should use the little energy I have these days to catch up on the mountain of studying i have to do.  However at 12.30pm this afternoon i was stopped from going into my main university building. The fire alarm was going off and the building was being evacuated. ‘Damn, fire!’ I thought. I stood there witnessing crowds of people streaming out of the building when I received a text:

‘We have occupied the North Building, join us!’

My rebellious wave resurfaced. I called my friend who told me the secret plans ive been hearing all week to occupy a part of campus in a peaceful sit in have officially commenced. I tried to get into the building and join the 150 plus student movement but could not get past security.

Eventually i found a way to where the occupation was taking place. I stuck around for a while, but i personally didnt see what we could achive. This coupled with the rumours of possible expulsion led me and a friend to decide to join the protest in central London. Even though it had already started, the colourful tweets of the protest re-energised my deep anger towards these new government plans which will cause many individuals to suffer. we made the 20 minute walk to where the protest had started an hour previous. I could already feel the fury.

When we finally reached, we were prevented from joining the centre of the protest because of the police blockade. It was the eighth line that the police had formed down the street. Those students in between those eight lines in the middle had already been kettled in by police, but we were free from the back as we had just joined the end of the demonstration. It was slightly dead, but the jeering and horn honking began to build up an atmosphere. I was happy to see people of all ages; university students, college students and even young school children had come out on to the streets of London to voice their concerns. Good on us, we need to stand together in the face of such uncertainty about our futures.

People soon started climbing the buildings next to Downing Street (home of the Prime Minister, for all you non-UK readers!) and we began to cheer them on from the crowd. It was peaceful though, no violence. It was just as if a group of people had decided to stand and chill out on the street. I did not anticipate at this point how ugly it was going to get.

The heroes who had climbed the building were just sitting on the walls and windows, not smashing up the building. Why then did the police feel the need to get out their batons half an hour later and beat them off the building?

When the police batons came out we all ran back. This happened a few times, leaving a few young people bloodied up. I had lost my friend in the crowd, he was more courageous than I was and had made his way to the front of the police blockade. Flares began to go up in the sky. The tension was building.

I eventually found my friend and told him I was going to leave as it seemed that most people were drifting off away from the protest, it seemed to be getting quite violent. We were in the midst of our conversation when all of a sudden a herd of people began to run past us in the opposite direction to the police blockade. So of course we ran too. The police began marching their human blockade forward.

I tried to run onto the main road as did everyone else, away from the police lines which were moving towards us. But more riot police had formed a new line to prevent us from leaving the protest. They were closing in on us from both sides.

Chaos had erupted within minutes. All alone amidst the havoc I began to panic.

Hundreds of students were running, trying to find a way out. Many were jumping a row of high railings to try and get into one of the buildings along the side of the road. Most of us were not that physically able. Some were trying to talk themselves out of this newly formed kettle but the police obviously weren’t having any of it. Around me, young people showcasing cuts and gashes, school girls in uniform crying black tears – all we wanted was just wanted to go home. There I stood in the middle of all the chaos, feeling imprisoned, when my heart sank even further; a line of police horses had began to reinforce the newly formed police blockade.

I was either going to get caught up in this potential stampede or trampled under one of these horses.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt so scared in my life. That is no exaggeration.

The police lines began to close in even further, it seemed like we were going to end up like sardines in a can. I didn’t know what to do. There was nowhere to run. I just came along to voice my deep concerns, ‘strength in numbers’ right? I did not come along to be kettled and imprisoned by police lines, to be threatened by batons and horses. It was 4pm, no breakfast, no lunch and freezing cold – I just wanted to go home.

I noticed a small group of people in the distance, running towards a building on the side of the road. I followed. As if by some sort of miracle, I found a small gate leading to the back of a building. I ran through it and ended up on the main street opposite Big Ben. Two minutes later a flood of yellow riot police manned that very exit I had just escaped from.

I was relieved yet I was shaking.

I tried calling my friend who I was with earlier. After a while I finally got through to him. He told me that he was caught up in the kettle and there was no way out. Police began to move onto the street, I ran all the way to the tube station, I just wanted to go home.

—-

I don’t think I’ve ever been so thankful to be home. Sitting in my warm home, there was nothing like it. I turned on the news channels to watch the live coverage of the protest as well as reports from this afternoon. It was a mostly peaceful protest but somehow only the violence seems to get reported. I guess that’s today’s media for you.

Protesters target a police van in Westminster, London Photograph: Anthony Devlin.PA

Footage of a few individuals vandalising and ransacking a police van are being continuously replayed across Sky and BBC. My question is where is the footage of cut, bleeding children who were attacked by the police for no reason?

From my television set I see how bad the police kettling really was. I keep replaying in my head the fact that if I hadn’t managed to leave through the gate when i did, it would have been me in these scenes people across the country are watching.

I have an issue with the reporting of today. The police are calling their tactics ‘containment’. It was in fact kettling.  They justified the force they used to stop the ‘violence’ spreading out across the streets of London. But hold on, let’s be logical for a moment:

People were already angry, that’s why they were protesting. If the police begin to kettle us, as human beings are we not more prone to become frustrated? If you cage people in when all they want to do is go home because they are fed up, cold, hungry or all of the above, do they not expect us to become restless? Aren’t they just creating a situation in which students would be more likely to use violence just so they could escape this newly formed prison around them?

Kettle us in, of course we’ll become more frustrated, of course things are going to get ugly.

The chaos I witnessed with my own eyes today and the horrific scenes I’m watching on television; police holding crowds of mostly peaceful protesters against their will, police using brutal force without discrimination, police horses charging at the kettled crowds where there are still students as young as 14 there. it’s disgusting. I’m sure some of what happened today violates some sort of human right.

The youth of today are this country’s tomorrow. If you take away their opportunities or make it harder for them to pursue their dreams, you are losing out on a fundamental investment in the future of this country.

I strongly condemn the police tactics I’ve witnessed today against peaceful protesters. I was there, and it was not containment, it was indeed kettling. Police horses charging at a kettle of protesters – i mean what the hell is that?! Its like locking children in a room and then setting your dog on them, where are they supposed to run? What are they trying to achieve by not allowing people in or out. People have been stuck there for up to 9 hours and were only allowed to leave after being photographed and having their details taken one-by-one by police.

What made me laugh was the news of the police bringing mobile toilets in for those being kettled! I found this hilarious! Why not just let them go?!

But do the politicians actually care about the magnitude of resistance they have witnessed today? Will it actually change anything? I don’t think they actually care. They carry on with their airy fairy talks of it ‘Actually being cheaper for students in the long run’ or ‘Students don’t actually pay off anything upfront’. No. But we still have to pay a minimum of £27,000 for a standard three year degree. A debt which is estimated that will take 30 years to pay off. A debt which we cant afford to have.

The reality on the ground is that it’s putting people off applying to university. That’s fine, they can get a job. The only problem is there are no jobs. How are we supposed to live? How are we supposed to make life better? How are we supposed to build our futures?

And it’s not even about the rise in tuition fees. Its the cuts to the education maintenance allowance (which keeps an enormous number of children aged 16-18 in education), its the cuts to education funding, its the general principle behind it all. Why should we have to pay £9,000 a year in fees when everyone sitting in parliament today got their education for free?

Ok, we are in the age of austerity, but maybe if they cut the £3billion they spend on war every year and used the money that kills a majority of innocent Afghanistanis every day, maybe then we would get somewhere.

Prime minister David Cameron has been quoted saying ‘They have a right to protest’. Yes we damn right do. But we also have a right to do it without being beaten by the police or trampled by their horses.

Children who are using education to get out of poverty, what are they going to do?

Mothers who depend on housing and child benefit to put food on the table for their young children, what are they going to do?

Old-aged pensioners who can’t afford the raised gas prices, what are they going to do?

Havoc was wreaked on the streets of London today. Another protest has been called in 6 days time.

Let’s stand up for our futures; Bring on the revolution.

Education is a right, not a privilege.

[Featured Picture: A student protester spraypaints the word revolution on a wall in London. Photograph. Matt Dunham.AP]

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Day 11 – ‘A band aid for the wounds and untreated scars’

Day 11 – Something people seem to compliment you the most on.

Finally a happier topic! 🙂

Compliments put me through a set of emotions until I end up feeling just one: I cringe. As I slowly get over this squirm worthy feeling I realise something people tend to point out often is something that actually doesn’t make me want to vomit: my smile.

I think the power of a smile is a beautiful thing. It’s simple in its essence yet still so forceful. The magnitude of its force is like the strong gale which blows your umbrella inside out on a dull grey winters day.

As soon as a smile hits me, it momentary lightens whatever load the day has chosen to place upon my shoulders. In that fleeting moment I get caught up; it’s as if nostalgia is welcomingly poisoning my troubles. I push my worries aside and allow its compelling charm to posses me. I can’t help but feel warm inside, regardless of how lost or broken I may be feeling. It seduces me; I’m a little more bright-eyed, a little less conflicted.

But a smile is not like them; it is not selfish, it does not discriminate. It’s just a simple domino effect; I smile, you smile, she smiles, he smiles. We all smile. It’s infectious and this time I definitely don’t want the jab.

A smile is actually way too underrated. On smile-absent days, I find myself using considerable exertion to try and push my negative ideas off the top of that isolated one-hundred-storey sky scraper, the sky scraper which seems to reflect my lonely surroundings. The only difference is that I don’t feel like I’m standing so high; I’m just another face in this lifeless crowd. I finally manage to push the negative ideas away. I don’t want to catch them as they fall away from me, yet I take a leap and jump after them anyway. Falling through the air seems to last an eternity, a space inbetween dream and reality, a place where I long for numbness. Then, unexpectedly, it hits me – a smile; all of a sudden, adrenaline begins pulsating through my veins, I’m almost euphoric. Suddenly I land, yet suprisingly this time I don’t crash. That smile has placed a soft cushion on the cold hard ground for me. I simply bounce back up with grace; the negativity seems to have lost its command.

Smile, it’s an act of kindness.

Smile, let it release your stress.

Smile, it can soften your heart.

Smile, ‘It’s a band aid for the wounds and untreated scars’! :

– A beautiful song. Smiling yet?! 🙂

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Day 10 – I let go. I don’t wish to know.

Day 10 – Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know.

I feel the need to write tonight, so the ‘or’ in today’s title shall not make me pick which of the above to write about.

 

You can convince your head that letting go is what you need to do but the heart is a little more stubborn than that.

 

Someone I need to let go:

There’s no point in wishing I didn’t know you, I’m glad I did. I’ve let go of you in one sense as you’re no longer in my life. Now though, I need to let the idea of you existing as a person go because of that very reason: you’re no longer in my life. I wouldn’t change how things played out, you became a great friend to me when I needed one most. You taught me a lot and helped my deteriorating eyes see with clarity for the first time. I just wish I didn’t see you around though, it would make the fact that you’re no longer here a little easier. ‘Out of sight, out of mind’ like the old cliché goes. And ‘out of mind’ would help because whenever you’re ‘in mind’ it’s just a reminder of how wrong everything can be.

 

Someone I wish I didn’t know:

I just wish I didn’t put too much trust in you and didn’t open myself up to you as much as I did. Why? Because with that comes unintentional expectations and consequential hope; hope that I could lean on you and hope that you’d help heal the seeping scars. Looking back I see that maybe you might have tried your best or maybe you just didn’t know how to deal with something so fragile. The only other ‘maybe’ that might exist would be that maybe you just didn’t care enough; id probably think this if I was talking about any of my other friends, but I cant allow myself to think this with you. Regardless, at that time I needed a friend, a real one like you. You were here, but where were you really?

Truth be told, it’s not that I wish I didn’t know you at all in any form; more like I wish I didn’t know the you that knows the me which I don’t show to everyone else; the open me. Why? Because open me is vulnerable me.

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