A very confused person

When I was around nine my teacher gave us a new list of words to learn, taught us the definitions and asked us to incorporate them into a story.

I remember being taught the meaning of “Dilemma“.

My teacher gave a great an example of when he had been in a dilemma. It was a short, funny and most likely completely made up tale.

I usually really enjoyed these exercises but with “dilemma” I was…stuck. 

I’d never been in a dilemma, I remember thinking.

Did having to choose between mint-chocolate chip and bubble ice-cream count? [For the record, according to my year 4 teacher, the answer is no]. 

I distinctly remember being very cross with myself for not having experienced this thing my teacher was describing. (I was an incredibly strange child).

Forward to age twenty-one and… there have been a lot of dilemmas. There have been many, many occasions when I’ve wished that I could regain the innocence of being nine-years old. Times when I’ve been so confused between what the right decision was. Times when neither choice seemed right. Basically, times that have made me want to change my identity and find the most secluded cave on the furthest island that I could hide away on… *cough* not to say, that I can’t handle being an adult or anything of the sort *cough*

I am indecisive person as it is, so when it comes to hard things…it’s well, hard. 

I’m usually the type of person to think things through logically. Who categorizes and classifies and ranks decisions. Who makes pros and cons lists.

But I’m also quite intuitive.

And sometimes my gut says right and my neatly written logical assumption says left.

And I’m left in an even greater dilemma as I try to choose between gut and logic.

I wish I could be one of those people who just knows whether they are a “heart over head” or “head over heart” sort of person.

I don’t feel like either. There have been numerous times when I’ve ignored my gut and gone with logic and other times, when I’ve rationalised to myself that my gut is correct and original logical assumptions were wrong…

Scenario: I have a dilemma

Brain: Commence mission. Tasks: research, lists and conclusion

Research completed, list produced, conclusion found.Decision made but then…

Gut: I think this is the wrong decision.

Brain: well, the facts here clearly show X, Y an Z…

Gut: Sorry, I’m just not feeling this…

Brain: Maybe it’s food-poisoning

*wait a period of time*

Brain: Hmm, no signs we are physically ill

Gut: I’m telling you, it’s the decision that’s causing these symptoms

Brain: You may be right. Commence re-evaluation.

*Further research and lists*

Brain: After re-evaluation, I conclude that my research was of good quality. However, perhaps if we consider these other factors, then perhaps… Gut… you are right.

Gut: I am? I am? But no… you’re the brain.The list! The research! I could just be feeling ill!

ME: binge eat and proceed to feel ill.

So there it is… decisions, dilemmas and I … do not go together. I am neither a heart over head or a head over heart person. I am just a very confused person.

 

 

 

 

The pretend game

Let’s play a game, my dear.

This is a game everyone plays.

You see, all you have to do is Pretend.

Can you do that, my dear?

Do it, please.

Pretend you don’t see the worry in my eyes and the pulling down of my lips.

And those wilting flowers? Pretend they’re not there.

Let’s pretend the sun won his fight with the clouds.

Let’s pretend the homeless man we gave coins to, is just an actor.

Let’s pretend the world is kinder than it is.

The politicians, pretend we can trust them.

The bills, pretend we can pay them.

The world, pretend we can fix it.

Turn on the news, and smile because it’s all pretend.

The wars in forgotten lands,

the terrorism all over,

the racism in our institutions.

It’s not real, right?

For today at least, it’s all pretend.

The diseases we can’t fix,

the starvation we can’t feed,

the ice caps we can’t stop melting,

It’s all pretend.

Okay, my dear?

Family: a tale

Part I

No need for plans.

See you whenever.

Doors are always open.

Walk in, put on the kettle.

You know where the biscuits stay.

Look at them, it’s so great that cousins can be so close.

Can’t imagine them apart.

Part II

Turn friends away, Saturdays are for family.

Laughter, teasing, bike rides

Uncle, don’t ruffle my hair.

Need any help with homework?

Take up whole rows in the cinema.

Barbecue, anyone?

Let’s plan a family holiday.

Part III

Has it been a month?

School takes up time, it’s great to catch up.

Lighthearted teasing – know where to stop.

I feel like fireworks.

Give the sparklers to the younger ones.

They have so much fun.

They make so much mess.

Part IV

Family dinners, once in a while

Questions at the dinner table.

Life-update, please.

Genuine smiles, friendly competition.

Teasing that cuts just below the rib;

All in good faith.

We should make plans soon. Definitely. Definitely.

Part IV

It’s so great that you’ve come to visit.

Put on the tea, let’s get some take-away.

Better not.

You know, I heard you said…

That loan…Of course, of course.

The fair’s coming to town – are you planning to go?

We haven’t decided yet. And you?

Part V

Big celebrations call for big tense smiles.

Something feels different this year or is it just me?

Kids, go outside.

Egg shells, snide comments, a retort.

Word vomit. Stupidity. Unfounded accusations.

The cause? Who knows.

I think it would be better if we stayed out of each others lives.

Part VI

Tentative reconciliations and nervous encounters.

No apologies.

But those aren’t needed in families. Right?

Gossip through the kitchen windows. The whole town is talking.

Have they been saying it’s our fault?

Blood boiling. Forget it. It’s over.

We can go back to the way things were. Right?

Part VII

Re-connection attempted (weakly).

Let’s just pretend everything is okay.

Polite greetings. Impersonal teasing.

Appearances shall be kept.

Big events celebrated together (awkwardly).

Dread this day each year.

Mummy, can we go home yet?

Part VIII

Been a while.

Not sure what you’re up to.

Don’t want to pry. None of my business.

Still celebrate together.For one day each year, fake smiles.

How many more years are we going to keep up this pretense?

And the younger ones dread it; such a bore. They don’t know what they’ve lost;

Impromptu outings, loving teasing, spontaneous water fights,  late-night road trips

A second-home.

 

 

The inevitable fate of the Spark

There’s a spark,

it catches.

Excitement.

Plans.

Dreams.

Her mind runs away with a thousand and one ideas.

She can see it in her mind; the end product.

Knows what she needs to do to get there.

Passion.

Motivation.

Determination.

It’s all there.

Her pen leaves skid marks on the paper,

as she gets it all down.

This time will be different.

This will be the one.

She would nurture it,

protect it,

feed it oxygen.

She would…

But…

Oh-

What’s that?

Her hand stops.

The ink bleeds.

A bullet hole…

The paper is spoiled.

Ruined.

Worthless.

She needs a…

a break.

She’ll return.

She will.

She does.

Finds a barely legible sheet.

Struggles to comprehend it.

Tiny, scrawled hand-writing.

Wordsblurredtogether.

Black holes.

She frowns.

The door slams shut.

The spark dies out.


Hello again wordpress! After quite a long break (mostly due to university, work and inefficient time-management) I finally have some more time to write and read more blogs 🙂 This poem was in response to the prompt: Unfinished and is something that relates incredibly well to me at the moment…

 

 

It’s okay.

Some days are good.

Some days are rough.

Stinging eyes.

Pale face.

Shaking hands.

They ask why.

You have no reason.

Just.

Just what?

Just.

Not an answer.

Shrug.

Sigh.

Disappointment, you are.

Nod. Acceptance.

You take it in.

Engrave it. Believe it.

Disappointment. 

Dis-

-dis-app-

disapp-

disapp-oint-

disappoint-ment

Disappointment.

Feel the words.

Listen to the letters.

Accept it.

Live your life by it.

Some days are good.

Some days are rough.

Stinging eyes.

Pale face.

Shaking hands.

They ask why.

You have no reason.

Just.

Just what?

Just.

Not an answer.

Shrug.

Pause.

That’s okay.

O-kay.

Okay.

Okay.

Engrave it. Believe it.

Use it as a rubber.

Scrub it out…

Disappointment.

Disappoint-

Disapp-

Dis-

Di

.

Replace it.

It’s okay.

 

 

Not quite ‘unstoppable’ but still pretty good

A couple of weeks ago, I was… a little miserable.

My confidence was low. I didn’t feel like myself.

On the one hand, I was annoyed that I was spending so much time doing nothing – what a waste.

At the same time, however, I felt resigned – lazy – weak. I didn’t want to do anything. My motivation had seeped away.

In hindsight, it seems melodramatic.

But I guess, everyone has those periods.

It’s like a haze, I guess, that somehow manages to blur our sight. It’s weird. Feelings are both amplified and numbed.

And then when you get through the ‘not feeling so great’ bit, you can’t remember what was so bad in the first place.

For the last month or two months, I’ve made a conscious effort to keep myself busy. And I have been, extremely, extremely busy. So much so that, I haven’t had the chance to do things that I want to – meet friends and family, read, blog…

(I really should have had better time-management.)

Yet, I’m glad I kept busy.

Because somehow through the ridiculous hours and deadlines and whatever, I’ve somehow found some motivation.

I’ve learnt things about myself which surprised me.

It’s pretty much well-known to everyone around me that I’m an introvert, that I’m shy, that I’m quiet.

I’ve always thought I would be terrible at public speaking or teaching or anything involving me being vocal.

I’m just too awkward. Just too anxious. Just too shy.

But I guess, until you push yourself into new situations – you don’t know what you’re capable of.

Over the last few weeks, I have had to talk to strangers in public, I have had to try and explain complex ideas, I’ve had to be encouraging – I’ve had to let my passion for a subject show.

And weirdly, crazily…

I enjoyed it?

So strange. Seriously, I cannot get over the fact that I actually enjoyed talking. I am someone who can get palpitations just walking across my office to the printer – my self-conscious brain tells me I am disturbing others, people are staring etc. etc.

In short, I hate attention.

And yet, I pushed myself and it was great.

I loved it.

I don’t feel Unstoppable.  (Too rational and aware of my own fallibility for that).

However, I feel pretty good right now. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the last two months it’s this – I should say yes to more opportunities, no matter how outside my comfort zone they are.

Toothbrushes kissing

It’s the small things, that she misses.

The toothbrushes kissing,

on the windowsill.

The two pairs of keys,

dancing in the hall way.

The shoes fighting;

his trainers army straight,

her heels tumbling,

on their sides.

The sounds of two alarm clocks,

fighting for attention.

The phone chargers,

keeping each other company.

She misses listening to the conversations,

of his coffee machine,

and her kettle.

She misses the childish behaviour,

of the television,

she misses how it used to disturb her peace.

(Keep it down!)

Mud stains.

Tapping feet.

Overflowing cupboards.

Extra washing.

She misses it all.

Most days though, it’s not too bad,

She can ignore the fact that toothbrush is lonely,

ignores the fact that the keys,

are doing a solo performance.

Most days, she can put the heels up straight,

she can tell herself that she’s okay,

convince herself that she’s thankful.

for one alarm

for tea in peace,

for the absence of annoyances.

But then that day comes around,

and her house won’t let her have peace.

It fights against her.

The single set of keys,

jingles

louder

and

louder

and cries

for

it’s partner.

The single alarm,

wails.

The kettle grieves.

She hides under her duvet.

And tells herself to

Stop.

Stop thinking.

But the TV roars.

And the memories come back.

And it’s all kissing toothbrushes, dancing keys, footwear fighting, alarm clocks singing,

It’s ‘I love you’

It’s ‘I’ll see you later’

It’s a

knock on a door

It’s a

scene from a movie

Not real.

Not real.

 

It’s ‘I’m sorry for your loss’

Not real

Not real.

Too real.