New Found

If I were a god,

which I am not,

but if I were, these are the ways in which I would use my powers:

If you were to cause me pain: I would bless you with countless days of bliss.

If you were to hurt me emotionally: I would bless you with endless happiness.

My wish for you is that no matter your anger, your hatred, your depression, your negative feelings toward me, that you may be blessed, with nothing but love, humility, peace, positivity.

I want you healed, vibrant and alive. Complete in you. Complete in who you are.

It kills me to see your sad, lonely – alone. It kills me to know that you are lost and torn and uncertain. It so reminds me of me, of us. Of the fact that we seem to be “one” - so similar.

So very, very much the same.

Experience of past has drawn us to the present.

And experience of the present has returned us to the past.

I am haunted, I am torn. I have questions that I dare not ask, for I am afraid of getting nothing.

No answers, a void. A nothing.

Can you remember how? Can you remember when?

You are so the same. You have not changed.

Not one way or the other. So familiar, that I am scared. Not of you.

I keep seeing a different vision of what you looked like then. Fusing the two together.

I am so incredibly comfortable in your presence. Like I saw you yesterday.

Like you have always been here.

No need to be pretentious. No need to be someone else.

But having you here, having you near, has made me wonder and remember another.

And what would it be like if we still had him here. Who knew, right?

But fire burns, burns us clean. Burns all feeling away, erased.

Even through different planes.

Just know, whatever – you are relevant. Meaningful.

Wise.

At least to me. You are my New Found!

Dear Johnny

Dear Johnny,

Rejection is not something that I handle well -

So rather than risk the possibility -

I just don't allow myself to be put in the situation at all.

If you held my hand – that was fine -

but I was always afraid to take yours.

Every day when your face goes through my mind a million and one times,

I find myself going a little more mad (we all know I'm already mad)

A little more crazy – as I try to make sense of what's happening to me –

what I’m doing, and what I’ve

ALREADY DONE.

I regret nothing, except for my bitterness, my anger towards you. The stupid arguments we had, and the nasty things I said about you.

You know, just as much as I do – that I never meant any of those things that I said about you or “us”.

And I so deeply wish time and time again that you had accepted my apology – imagine how different things would be between us now.

But then again, maybe in a strange way, it's a good thing, because if it hadn't been for our “fall-out”,

then I would probably not have brought myself around to doing this.

Usually when I deal with people in life, I am straight forward, and I tell them exactly what I think (that they should go to hell) – but when I write something like this –

when I take the time to do this – you have to realize that it means something more than just a few words on a piece of paper.

So what more can I say except:

I’m sorry for the person I was -

and the things I said and did.

I’m sorry for being so cold – so unfeeling, if I had given myself a split second to think twice about it – I know I would have been different.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

But after a lot of soul searching – now I know the answer.

And with what I’m about to say,

I’m opening myself up –

allowing myself to be vulnerable in a certain sense,

but there's only one person who can take advantage -

let the choice be theirs!

I was trying to do something:

I was trying to cure someone else's pain,

I was trying to erase someone else's memories -

but no matter how much I tried – I couldn't.

Nothing within myself was good enough.

I felt that I couldn't measure up to my usual standards of helping others -

I COULDN'T HELP YOU!! I let you down.

When you spoke to me about memories from the past – things about your past relationships, things that I know hurt you, I wanted to soothe you,

try to make you feel better – but I couldn't.

I could only sit there, listening to you, and watching you,

feeling your pain,

your anger – and I just felt there was nothing that I could do.

How would you have reacted, then, if I had gotten up and given you a hug, or taken your hand to hold?

To my imagination, you more than likely would have rejected me, told me to get lost -

        and that was not a risk that I could take.

So, of all the strange things that I had to do, this was yet the strangest:

I faced you – and when I did so -

I felt as though I faced myself.

I saw you, and all your anger and all your pain -

and I saw the way that you openly expressed yourself

and at the same time,

as I watched you – I watched myself.

The only difference was that I could never show my true feelings that way -

what pain I keep, is kept inside.

You wondered why I never smiled,

why I was always unhappy.

Well, after a while I had to ask myself these questions:

Why when I’m around you do I feel so inadequate?

Why did I feel that I wasn't good enough?

You were so quick to judge me – that you never gave me a chance to show you who I was beneath the bitch.

You know, I would have in time. You just never gave me the chance.

You had to listen to what everyone else said about me first.

I guess that made me angry.

No – not angry, it made me think if that was what you expected – well that's what I’d give you.

I know it wasn't right.

So allow me to go back to the questions.

Why did I never smile?

Why was I so unhappy?

Because I felt so inadequate?

Because I felt I was NOT GOOD ENOUGH?

WHY?

I kept asking myself these questions.

And so, my conclusion is that only YOU have the answers.

So – in the end, what you do with this letter is your choice –

all I ask is that you read it and consider!

If you change your mind – leave a message with Matthew (Berry) –

or call me on this no: 011 613 6303.

Love Georgia.

* Do you know what the funny thing is? I still want to take away your pain. 

Note: This was a letter I wrote to Johnny Leonard Du Preez sometime during the week of 06 Jan 1997 and 12 Jan 1997. I am not 100% certain that I sent it, but I do have a memory of sending him some sort of a letter. Perhaps it was this one. 

Perhaps not. Either way, he'll get it now...

More Than...

A deeper understanding,

Slowly becomes me.

Not fast enough.

Several things I am learning about who you really are.

Love, and feeling for others – perhaps not a trait that

you covet so easily.

No emotion, perhaps just external needs.

A Shallow pool of want & lust.

Like a hollow chocolate egg.

Delicious on the outside,

but with nothing on the inside.

Empty.

Yet, you're so filled with yourself!

You love who you are, the most important!

Bet your mirror loves you back!

Who are you to laugh at others?

But I so feel for you, wish more for you still,

feel a certain sadness that you are not MORE.

More than just a mere shadow.

More than just a barren empty land.

More than just a mirror – a lonely sad reflection.

More than you were even then.

I wish you to be fulfilled, sustained, satisfied.

I wish you to be COMPLETE.

You may think your life so – but from a Watchers point of view...

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.

MY SANCTUARY

I know I'm loved.
I know I'm seen in a "certain" light by you.
I know that beyond the way you see me, you feel very deeply for me.
For my mind - for my soul. You care about WHO I am.
You know that you don't just have me, my body. But you have
ALL OF ME.
Every inch, every fibre.
Every thought, every feeling.
You have me utterly and completely.
You always will. You are not selfish and self-centred,
you are not arrogant and vain.
We are uninterrupted by ego - somehow after all these years,
through everything that we have been through,
It is your touch that I long for, your arms around me, your kiss on my neck.
Your warmth each night as we lay close, Your words whispered in my ear,
your love in my heart.
You are my SANCTUARY.
I LOVE YOU!

THE WEDGE

It's fiction, Untruths, filtered down and through these lives.

I may not want to believe that this is even me,

I am included.

We all ARE to one degree or another.

Aware that we should be satisfied and fully complete with all that we have

and all that we are – yet there are ripples and tides underneath

the surface,

that pull us down, 

taint our every fibre,

fill our every moment with false hope.

Reaching out, NOT NEEDING, no – not needing.

WANTING.

And so, a wedge is created, small in the door.

A wedge nonetheless.

Impossible to destroy, having grown stronger for time:

A shorter span of perhaps three years

and a seemingly timeless connection of two decades.

The Wedge, like a web, spun anew in 5 months...

What are we to capture and hold onto?

What are we to devour? IF ABLE.

Aware of a venom, coursing slowly through our lives,

from a gentle bite.

Lingering slowly,

burning with a passion.

SATISFIED.

I AM.

AND I AM NOT.

                       WILL AND WILL NOT BE –

                                                                            TILL I HAVE HAD ALL.