Your writing is amazing, and those who know you in real life are very, very lucky people. If you don't mind me asking, what is it that inspires you to write, and do you personally follow any blogs yourself?
When I was nine years old, I moved away from the fresh country air, to a bigger, combusted, more polluted city. For five years my peers led me to believe I was nothing. Like a hammer chipping away at my very essence, every vindictive remark, every stick or stone thrown my way, every lunch I spent alone in the library, pushed me deeper and deeper into the ground. I was eleven years old the first time I held a knife against my chest, slowly digging it deeper into my flesh, believing I had no reason to keep on struggling through this thing called life. By some stroke of luck, fate, whatever it was my guardian angel threw my way that afternoon, my sister came home from school earlier than expected. I heard her key in the door, placed that tempting silver back in it’s rightful place, and hid away in my bedroom the rest of the afternoon. Until now, I have not spoken of that day. I remember it with crystal clear clarity; it was the day I promised myself I wouldn’t let my life waste away at the expense of others. During my primary school days, all I had was pad and pen. The other kids would try and humiliate me on a daily basis, sometimes one of the girls would steal my writing and run off with it, mocking me. It didn’t stop me from expressing myself in words. It became a natural way for me to deal with any kind of overwhelming emotion. To this day, I let that trusty pen do the talking - the one thats never let me down, even if the world has.
I wish for no person to feel the way I once did. Alone, in the dark with no hope or faith or love. Every ounce of happiness, fulfillment, inspiration, stolen away, for whatever reason. If I can give that back to someone, remind them how it feels to be alive - show someone the stars hiding behind the clouds, on a dark, stormy night, my soul will rest well tonight.
I have a handful of close friends, who like me, express themselves through writing. I follow their blogs, to understand their pain, and to know when to sweep them back to their feet, and remind them who they really are.
Im comeing towards the end of my hairdressing corse and theres still alot of stuff i dont know should i be worried about this? help urgently needed
Of course not. What fun would it be if we knew the answers to everything? Half the fun in life is making mistakes, learning lessons and collecting memories of all sorts along the way. If you truly are worried, ask someone who knows. It shows your interest in your art and eagerness to perfect.
I went searching for a letter challenge & it brought me to your page. I read your intro & heard part of me. I am struggling with lack or purpose & drive. I don't know what to look for anymore. I read your bucket list & it inspired me. I didn't really think I wanted to do anything with my life, now I think I'll make some goals. Thank you, I really hope you find what your looking for in life.
Write a bucket list, print it out, and stick it somewhere you see it on a daily basis. Even if you don’t instantaneously gain purpose or drive, your subconscious will start to picture the little things you can do that will bring you joy. Make someone else smile, it’s good karma. Start small, grow from there. I hope you find what you’re looking for and have a lively journey along the way.
I’ve nearly finished reading “Scar Tissue”, by Anthony Kiedis, and from it I have learned the struggle of his magic. I guess it’s like they say, an artists beauty always comes from a tortured soul… which makes me think of a close friend of mine. Her art would astound you, absorb you, awake your soul. She, is true inspiration.
Once you’ve seen a solution to the disease that’s tearing you apart, relapsing is never fun. You know there’s an alternative to the way you’re living and that you’re going against something you’ve been given for free by the universe, this key to the kingdom. Drug addiction is a progressive disease, so every time you go out, it gets a little uglier than it was before; it’s not like you go back to the early days of using, when there was less of a price to pay. It isn’t fun anymore, but it’s still desperately exciting. Once you put that first drug or drink in your body, you don’t have to worry about the girlfriend or the career or the family or the bills. All those mundane aspects of life disappear. Now you have one job, and that’s to keep chucking the coal in the engine, because you don’t want this train to stop. If it stops, then you’re going to have to feel all that other shit.
That chase is always exciting. There are cops and bad guys and freaks and hookers. You’re diving into a big insidious video game, but again, you’re being tricked into thinking that you’re doing something cool, since the price is always bigger than the payoff. You immediately give up your love and your light and your beauty, and you become a dark black hole in the universe, sucking up bad energy and not walking around putting a smile on someone’s face or helping someone out or teaching someone something that’s going to help his or her life. I want to describe both side of how I felt, but it’s important to know that in the end of all the romantic glorification of dope fiendery amounts to nothing but a hold of shit. It has to appear enticing, because that’s why God or the universe, creative intelligence or whatever you want to call it, put that energy here. It’s a learning tool, and you can either kill yourself with it or you can turn yourself into a free person with it. I don’t think drug addiction is inherently useless, but it’s a rough row to hoe.
Scar Tissue by Anthony Kiedis (cannot put this down!!) Flipnosis by Kevin Dutton (extremely interesting but hard to get through) Women of Letters Spanish Phrase Book Finished Gary Chapman’s The 5 Love Languages yesterday
The sun shines freely today. No clouds blocking it’s warmth, no grey dulling it’s light. There is a faint breeze rustling through my hair, swaying back and forth around me, drifting my thoughts away. There is no chaos around me, and I feel content. I look through my window and appreciate the serenity of the waves kissing the shoreline, the people walking their puppies in the sunshine, the calmness of it all, that somehow radiates back to me, the silent observer.
I lost my smile for a while there. The real one, the sincere one that shines and radiates the light from somewhere inside me. Distance finally got to me, the lump in my throat grew. the more I tried to swallow it, the more my thoughts tried to choke me. I succumbed to it. I let myself see the darkness, instead of realizing the sun never leaves, even if it hides sometimes, behind the stormy weather.
But it’s okay to have these days. They remind me I’m alive. And while I may not agree with what I type in the times I lose myself in the bedlam, I wouldn’t have it any other way. How else could I look back and learn a lesson. Stop being so damn pessimistic. Of course the suns not going to shine if I don’t allow myself to see it. All I’m going to see is the rain, and forget about the rainbow.
I pull through, every time. There will be better days, and if I want it enough, today can be the day I put an end to all the grey. Change doesn’t always happen instantly. Sometimes it knocks us off our thrones, reminds us that we cannot always control what happens to us, we can never successfully predict what life will throw our way, and as much as I’d like to, no, we can’t stop that impatient bastard from tail gating us the whole journey home.
I tell it to my friends constantly, I write about it regularly, I know the words a hundred different ways, by heart, up side down, yet I still have trouble taking my own medicine and swallowing it. You cannot control what happens to you, you can only control how you react about it. Wallow in self pity, learn a lesson, it all comes down to how YOU decide to go about it. Own your feelings, the grey, the colourful, and the inbetween. Own it all, every inch of you (pun not intended), because wanting to be anything but you is such a waste of who you already are.
The storm passes, the rain ends and the sunshine prevails. Enjoy the rainbow while it lasts.