Sticks and Stones.

If it's not one.

It's another.

And you'll be next. (who?)

No doubt.

Expected.

Totally.

Soon.

A date set in the nothingness.

But the day after tomorrow.

That's when soon will be.

But I don't mind.

You don't really count.

The first.

The second.

However.

Sticks and stones.

Words could definitely harm me.

Allow a rephrase: words have harmed me.

No matter. Wouldn't be the first that SNOW has been thrown in my face.

1. I knew you once, and I was mistaken.
2. I have known you little over a decade.

And I am AFRAID.

I fear that once again I have misread.

Would it really be that easy to say goodbye?

Not for me.

Seems it is my path.

Perhaps to always say goodbye, always has been.

Pebble pathways along a beach. Don't I wish.

Hurt. Pain.

Put it to the wind. Let it blow away.

Allow me to rise up.

Up up and away from here.

Up into the clouds, flying as in my dreams.

But no! I must stay grounded.

Save face.

Be brave.

No one else's place to SEE this pain.

And you'll NEVER SEE it written on my face.

But is this fact or is this fiction?

Take nothing that I say to heart,

just ignore it for it is just something I write in my blog. Right?

Just a mind buzz.

They all are.

Please don't pay attention!

Dear Diary

07 February 2012

Dear Diary,

I'm sitting outside Kenton Primary right now waiting for the girls. It's 12.35.

25 more minutes and they're done.

It's overcast and quite dark. Looks like rain, for sure – again. Actually a storm approaching.

I didn't bring a rain coat.

Well, seems that I, for a short while somehow “ misplaced” what I think may have been my own self worth. I have just a short while ago found it again. I lost it in January. Since I read a certain phrase.

I lost sight of what was important in my life for a short while. While trying so hard to get someone else to care, just because they supposedly “felt” something, I lost me.

Oh how foolish. How selfish I have been. That's all I've wanted.

Everything to be about me. But from an outside source.

I've wanted acknowledgement.

I've wanted people to be interested in what is below my surface.

I've wanted to be heard.

I've wanted people to ask me questions and to be concerned.

I've wanted so much more.

Some of what I wanted, I got. Some from concerned friends (Thank you Michelle Chantalle Smit).

Thank you to my sister.

And some not from the right people at all.

“Look at things from a different perspective” - my dearest, wonderful, most loving sister Aleka said (though this advise you could use yourself dear sister).

And now I am doing just that.

Seeing: that I don't need your approval on how I look. Realizing that I don't need her to tell me I am too complicated, or him to tell me I am over analysing.

Even through people's opinions and judgements, I have continued to dress the way I do, look the way I do. Continued to be too complicated. Continued to analyse – and most of all I have continued to FEEL. Deeply, with love, with sorrow, with pain, with anger, with yearning, with hatred and even with fear.

I should change for who?

Once again: I KNOW WHO I AM. I'VE FOUND ME AGAIN.

The question is: CAN YOU ACCEPT ME FOR ALL THAT I AM?

If not: that's YOUR LOSS.

***********************************************************

Note: a true insert from my diary.

IMPOSSIBLE

Why do we hold onto something that is impossible?

I don't have an answer.

Just the questions.

Quite simply: I don't know. 

Guess you don't either.  

I don't even have the simplest of reasons that could explain away why.

Yes, make no mistake, I know how I feel.

(or do I?)

I know though, that here is no acting out, an opportunity (could never/would never arise).

We are lost – distant,

changes have been made through the years.

Choices and decisions put into place.

We have followed our life paths.

And here we are, yet again. And yet again I am tormented.

I don't know what this is for you (all)

I don't know what this is for me.

Really though, is there a purpose?

If there is one, why am I blind to it?

Why can I not see the meaning of these crossed paths?

My guides are quiet, perhaps whispering among themselves.

I am torn.

I wish to know why I hold on.

I wish to know why you do.

I wish to know why we all do

more than that: I NEED TO KNOW.

Because really, are we grasping at straws?

Afraid to lose – yet again?

Yet I am empty.

A shell.

For I know that this particular void where you should be,

shall probably never be filled.

Talking with you over this distance, over these miles – 

SHALL NEVER BE ENOUGH.

*************************************************

This is for everyone who has ever lost someone over time or distance.

DESPERATION

Please, please – not again.

I see the horror about to enfold me once more.

Slowly creeping in my direction.

I am but a child, here in my home.

One with no power, one – not a woman,

One – overthrown by these feelings headed my way,

but felt now in the present.

I beg – do not return!

But maybe, just maybe I can escape.

Begin to drink myself into oblivion.

Find some Lysergic acid diethylamide

Run away. Leave.

To infiltrate my life once more.

Bipolar. Shouldn't affect me any further.

But the knowledge of this return...

Has me reeling in shock.

Why should I return to what I once was?

Is it right that I should deal with this alone?

How fair is it that you always take the other side?

How right that I cannot speak?

I am weakened and angry.

For I know the outcome.

Know that and what you will choose and allow.

I know my DESPERATION.

But what is there that I could possibly do?

No tears, no unhappiness, no bearing my soul,

would possibly make a difference.

So maybe I should just give up.

Be done.

Deeper than the Surface.

With the fabric of my life – I know there is this bond.

I know there is this connection.

There always will be.

A memory comes to pass, fleetingly and I recall suddenly:

you were then what you are now.

So I ask myself the question: why then, the expectation?

Perhaps I am grasping for more, innocent naivety expecting you to be more.

I have foolishly expected too much.

For you are what you are, who am I to expect a change?

Who am I to request one?

I shouldn't try to change anyone.

I should just accept.

Do you believe in fate?

What are your beliefs?

Who are you?

Conversation never delves deeper than the surface.

We really know nothing.

And a satisfaction is to be achieved from this?

From a basic nothing?

Obviously, however one sided.

Unfortunate. 

For me to quell my thirst. 

It's a loss. Deeply.

From a time bygone, returned to haunt me now.

Strange though, I remember nothing of the pain then,

Only a memory of the pain now. Doesn't make sense, does it?

I know, I know. I'm analysing again.

Don't say it. Just don't. I know your opinion.

I know what you think.

Leave me be. These are my words, for the world to see,

and these are my words – TO ME.