I’m always running, why am I always running? Why am I so scared of commitment in any form. Why do I just want to leave my life and wander the world? Then I’d be living with a thousand acquaintances but no one close enough to hurt me. I need to stop, I can’t just keep running. But, it’s like second nature now, I’m so used to moving. How do I stop? It seems, just, all wrong. Stopping is bad, life has beaten that message into me. Do not stop for anything, don’t let anything hold you down. Or it will never let you go.
Everyday, it seems I discover more of my limitations. I realize what it is that I cannot do. It’s like a pane of glass slots down between what I want and where I am. The limit is there, yet I can still see the object of my desires. So I am left, in a prison of glass, taunted by what I thought I could achieve.
Of course, the thing about glass is, if you want to enough, you can punch right through it. Sure there will be blood and pain. You’ll have to claw your way out as your body shreds to ribbons and pieces of you are lost forever in a crimson spray. But nothing worth doing is ever easy. Just because a limit exists does not mean you have to submit and give up. You have the strength to achieve whatever you want, but only if you don’t give up and try.
Glass shatters, limits are overcome.
You don’t know what you’re missing…
I’m so excited. Why? Because today is the day I get to go back to Maynooth. The place that has become my home. The place where I am not only accepted as I am, but loved for it. How could I not be happy to go back? I will of course miss my family and some friends, but I really need to get away, this place is not good for my mental health, as I’m sure you’ve gathered on my tumblr recently.
Imagine a bird in cage. It’s spent it’s entire life in this cage. It knows how to fly, but as it’s never done it before, it does not long for it. Then one day the cage bursts open and the bird finds itself outside, falling. It has to fly and after a few shaky starts, it soars. But more than that, it realizes it loves to fly. Then suddenly after months of flying, the cage reforms. The bird then longs for the outside world, now knowing that which it is missing.
That is what I feel like when I’m not back in Maynooth. Things here aren’t that bad, but I know a place where they are so much better.
Taste My Heart
I feel like I’m caught in the centre of a web of lies and concealed truths. I’m just an unwilling, paralyzed prey waiting to be consumed whole by the sometimes monsters, sometimes friends. The aspects of my life that weigh heavily on my mind at the moment are speckled with lies and mistruths. How can I make an informed decision when there are so many red herrings and misconceptions. How can I know what words to trust? How can I know, what words aren’t altered by the bitterness of a past sting?
It’s impossible to discern the truth and no amount of questioning will change this, because one thing all humans do, at some stage or another, is lie. I’m no different. We lie because it’s easier, we lie to protect ourselves or others, we lie to hurt just for the sadistic thrill of it and sometimes we lie simply because it is second nature. How can I compete with that? How can I wriggle free of the tendrils of such lies?
It seems to me I have three choices. Go straight to the source and cut it down, ripping the lies apart. Cut myself away from the web and ignore it’s presence forever more. Or grab hold of the tendrils, await the sometimes monster, sometimes friend, and see what sort of mood it’s in. See if it’s hungry. See if it will place it’s tongue across my chest and taste my beating heart.
Even when I lay out the options I think I know how I will proceed, because I’m a coward. One thing you are guaranteed with when it comes to cowards is predictability. So come on monsters, taste my heart.
The Sparrow, The Sparrow-hawk and The Hawk
The sparrow was terrified of everything really, struggling to exist in a world that was too vast and ever changing for it. But the sparrow never gave up, no matter how hard things got, he endured and continued to fly. Even when the swell of the air tried to force him to the ground he kept going, he did not submit. But the sparrow was too trusting and in the end he was consumed whole. His final act of defiance was to struggle in the throats of those that had hunted him and bring them to their knees with tears in their eyes. One final act to show they had not taken from him all that he was.
The sparrow-hawk was smarter and more cunning. He did not fear, but he was no fool either. His stronger wings allowed him to sail through this world with more ease than the little sparrow. He hunted too, but not like those who had hunted the sparrow with such glee. He was however, not indestructible and at times he too was pushed to his limits. He did not submit, and unlike the sparrow that was quick to flee, he would turn and face his oppressor with talons outstretched. In the end, the fight consumed him and he lost who he was.
The hawk doesn’t exist yet. Perhaps he never will. A true predator, cruel, strong, handsome and intelligent. He will be a terror to behold. He will be everything the sparrow was not.
Does anyone remember Skarmory?
To completely counteract the other night, last night was actually lovely. Granted I didn’t go out to a club, I just went to a friend’s house. But I suppose if I can still go to a friend’s house and have fun then things aren’t all bad here. I guess even if it seems like you’re on your own, there is always someone you can turn to for help and support. So while I may not like the place I call home, with the help of my friends I can tolerate it and learn from it’s lessons.
This is going to sound really stupid, but does everyone remember the pokemon Skarmory? Well it used to be my favorite so I knew quite a bit about it. In the pokemon world a Skarmory would make it’s nest in a thick bed of thorns. Not an ideal place to live. When it would then have children, the younger Skarmory would spend their lives getting cuts and nicks and bruises. But the parents would not move them away. Do you know why? It was because after years and years of this life of injuries, their skin would harden and become an armor like metal. The very thing that once hurt them had given them a protection that left them almost invulnerable.
So that’s the metaphor I’m going with now. What once hurt, I can learn from it. But more than that, I can grow because of it.
Life is such a wondrous thing. I know many of you disagree. Some of you have experienced pain and hardship that I cannot even begin to comprehend. But I just want you to know, that it does get better. Everything gets better, you just have to endure.
Some of you may look at me and think, I haven’t suffered much. That is entirely true, I’ve had a very privileged life. But I’ve still suffered pain, I’ve lost loved ones, I’ve had my heart torn asunder by those that don’t care and I’ve felt the bitter cut of persecution, ignorance and discrimination. I’ve suffered more than some, but less than most. The important thing however is this, I’m still standing. That which did not kill me, made me so much stronger.
I didn’t experience huge amounts of hardships, but what I did, has made me who I am. Those challenges strengthened my resolve. The teasing quickened my wit and gifted me with a silver tongue. The heartache taught me to cherish love and the sorrow taught me how to empathize.
I didn’t experience much, yet I have grown ten fold. I would not undo any of my past hurts, I do not regret their lessons. So just imagine what you’re pain could do for you. Will you let it consume you in self loathing. Or will you turn it into your own strength.
Why did I write this post? I see so much pain on tumblr, people are really hurting and I just want you all to know. Life will get better. You have so much potential, so don’t give up. When a caterpillar wraps itself in a cocoon it takes weeks of struggling for it to break back out. This struggling is what gives the caterpillar’s body the strength it needs to live and to fly. Without the struggle, the caterpillar’s body is too bloated to be supported by it’s wings.
Like the caterpillar you too must struggle from your cocoon. But when you do, you’re going to have wings, glorious wings and you are going to fly! Life get’s better.
So have faith, endure and then one day, fly!
My mind is my sanctuary, my sanctuary is crumbling.
“Yes I am, so what’s the solution.”
“Time I’m afraid.”
Wasn’t intended to cause harm but has sent my mind on a roller coaster. This year has indeed been a horrible mix of stress and emotion. But those few words, I haven’t been able to remove them from my thoughts since I first read them and my stomach lurched. So, I decided to return to a home of my childhood, my grandmothers house where I essentially lived between the ages of 7 and 9 until my granny died of cancer.
I don’t like going back because while everything is the same in one sense, it’s also changed as well. It’s complicated but as I walk along the canal to the building itself, it’s like I’m a child again. One of the few instances in which i feel like a child, but just as distressing and unfortunately a sensation that is becoming frequent in recent days.
Everything at my granny’s house has been torn asunder and re-purposed. Her gardens are now car parks. The forest where I used to play with my cousins is uprooted. Her home is now an office. But most irritating of all is that her monument was torn from the ground and hurled into the earth behind her former house.
By this point I was feeling no better, and with no one to talk to I was resigned to return home. To the books, the boredom and lets face the loneliness. But then a voice in my head quite literally said “FUCK IT!” and I went for a jog instead. Tearing through the woods and just trying to lose all of this emotional baggage among the trees.
Of course I couldn’t. All the woods did was remind me how simple life used to be. When I could climb trees all day in complete solitude and feel absolutely nothing. Least of all lonely. But I pressed on with my jog because I really can’t care about school anymore, or perhaps just right now. It’s too much stress. These last exams are like leaping across a ravine. The fall wont kill me if I don’t reach the other side, but then I have to start climbing all over again, right from the beginning. Considering the first climb has quite literally pushed me to my extremes I can’t do it again. I never really let anyone know how far I’ve been pushed, how many times I wanted to let go and fall. How, I almost did fall.
So I pushed on with the jogging, and ran from more of my problems. My problems, they’re so minute in the grand scheme of things. I really shouldn’t dedicate a blog to them, but I do all the same, because hey lets face it I’m desperate for attention. He pointed that out, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget that. Why am I bringing that up now? I’ve no idea, but I guess my tendency to bottle things up forces me to deal with issues at later dates for no apparent reason.
Upon passing this tree I soon became oxygen deprived. Left gasping for air, hunched over, as my lungs burned. Thus my mind and thoughts returned and I quickly realized something. The solution to my unhappiness was not nearly as illusive as the solution to loneliness. But it was just as irritating. In essence the quest for my happiness is a paradox. In order to achieve happiness I must pass through a wave of nauseating unhappiness. I stuck my toe into that pool of sorrow, I don’t feel like trying to swim through it. Thus I’m stuck here in limbo, until stress forces me somewhere worse.
So that’s my refrain, I live in hell, because they pulled me out of heaven.
By the time I reached the top of the hill in the above picture, I was drained. Physically and emotionally. It did however dawn on me. No one cares. People were much happier when I bottled up my own problems. This is evident by the fact that precious few choose to talk to me now that I no longer deal with their problems but seek advice for my own. No contact from my “friends”, from my friends or from my family. I always have to make the first move. i sometimes wonder. If I made no contact would anyone search for me. Would a single soul send me a text. Does anyone but strangers care?
I could write for days on this but I’m home now and it’s time for dinner. No doubt I will return to this topic once more before long.
Everytime the storm raged and the waves beat me down, everytime I sank beneath the surface of that murky water you caught my hand. Not on your own but the action was noticed! I would almost drown and you along with others would pull me above the surface. But why pull me up so many times only to drop me.
My hands reach up! The others are helping but it’s not enough, I’m drowning and you wont even look at me…