The Lies we Tell Ourselves...

... to save our hearts from pain

1. I am happy. The first and perhaps the biggest lie as it is a mantra repeated often in a way that is more to convince myself than other people. I believe happiness to be a transient state in which once entered must be left after only a short time. If your life is spent in a happy state 20% of the time then you are very lucky. Not that I am an unhappy person, but I am all the more happy because I have experienced the lows that life can throw. If I was being truthful I would be disappointed if my life was entirely happy, very boring if you ask me.

2. I do not want children. I like to pretend that the white picket fence life with partner and children doesn't appeal to me. This life is looked down upon by so many women these days. It seems it is not enough to devote your time to raising children, you need to find 'extra-curricular pursuits' to validate your life. If I was honest I kind of crave that life. There are many things I want and this is one of them. I suppose there is always a chance that it wouldn't be so easy to perpetuate this lie if I actually thought I could have it.

3. I don't have time to write my book. There is time but I use it on other things, things that I feel are more proper things to do with my time. I think the main problem is that i still feel my writing is an indulgence and not a proper use of my time. Must do something about that.

4. I am well. I like to pretend that i am well. It makes me feel better to burry my head in the sand. I don't like many people knowing what is wrong with me. I don't like the way people treat me once they know so I don't tell them. I just carry on regardless and most people never know.

Sunday, Sunday...

So here we are again, another Sunday, another busy weekend with barely a moment to myself. Don't get me wrong I've had a great weekend, just a hectic one. Am a little confused right now so thought I would talk it out on here.

My main issue for confusion is the big question, is there such a thing as a soul mate? I know, the words bring up a little bit of vomit in my mouth too. The idea of this romantic notion of a soul mate has always alluded me. I have been in love but not with someone I considered, even at the time, as a soul mate. Is there such a thing?

I don't mean the cookie cutter romantic bullshit we're pre-programed to believe exists but a real person that is your absolute match, someone that when you meet them you automatically have that inexplicable connection that only explains itself later when you get to know the person. The slow realization that that person is perfect for you and the connection you felt was justified.

I don't know, I suppose I was always ruled by the realist in me that says that these things don't really exist and to pull myself together and get on with real life. But what if I am missing out?

What if when I am settling for merely physical attraction with someone I consider to be ok, I am missing what's out there?

Oh well 'it'll all come out in the wash' as someone who uses cliches would say.

Degree Show Piece

This is my beautiful Degree Show Piece. I loved it and it took a hell of a lot of time to make. Unfortunately the Establishment did not agree. I don't care I still love and think Art doesn't have to be ugly to be 'ART'.


RAH

Busy, Busy, Busy

Welcome back to the blog space without any viewers!!

Saying that I was wondering, does it really matter whether anybody is listening? Isn't it just enough to send your shit musings out into the ether with no reply? I think that it is more important to empty your thoughts somewhere in order to access the good stuff. Therefore I will not be apologising for the shitness of my posts or justifying any thoughts placed here. I am just sending out my verbal diorhea in order to cleanse my pallet so to speak. I am hoping to unblock my creative paths (god that sounds poncy!).

So anyway thoughts for today were on how busy my life seems to be. I am constantly busy but my life also feels empty. I race from one stressful situation to another with barely enough time to get the bare necessities done. One day I will look back and wonder what happened to my life and my dreams.

Therre are things that are important to me that I do not get to spend time on because I race around half the time like a loony. Maybe one day I will just stop everything and dedicate myself to the things I too afraid to commit to. But then where would I start ? There are so many things I want to do with my life and i haven't done most of them.

Do I really want to say the biggest risk I ever took was applying for a degree at an Art School? That should have been the start of movement in my life but it seems I've just gone back to my old one.

I think it's time I took a stand...

Sunday

So after a stressful Friday the weekend opened up like a beautiful oasis of calm that stayed on the horizon through Saturday. Finally on Sunday, aptly the day of rest, I managed to retrieve a relatively peaceful and stress-free day.

Friday was the day from hell ending with the collapse of my house move. Saturday started with a frantic search for somewhere to live, seeing as I have already handed in my notice where I am. After viewing a couple of flats I have realized that it is virtually impossible to find somewhere suitable on my tiny budget.

I have to find somewhere within a certain price bracket to be able to stop working and enable me to start getting better. This brings me to the larger problem. I am ill. I like to pretend that I am not but the bottom line is that I am. Every now and then I do something to make my life better by admitting that I cannot cope with the status quo.

The last time I did this I went part time at work. This is where my problems began. I now cannot afford to live where I am without a full time job and the government is too busy giving money to other people to really help me any. So now I'm moving.

In all honesty I probably shouldn't working at all, but I'm under some kind of false idea that I should. If I did decide to quit work I'm gonna be screwed unless I have already moved. So now I'm back to looking for somewhere.

Joy.

Saturday ended with a trip to the cinema, which I was looking forward to. The film was bad and not even in a good way. I normally like those movies that are so bad that they're good but this movie was just bad. And there were no decent looking fellas in it to make it bearable.

At least today was nice. Just chilling out and forgetting everything else. Back at work tomorrow and will probably undo all the good work resting has done today but nevermind.

Anyway, later for now...

Vesuvius

I clear my throat,
fiery toxic fumes push
slowly down the mountain.

The pyroclastic cloud
arrives before the warning,
my sulphurous words engulf

and obliterate the faces,
forever stagnate in the solitary
belly of my memory.

Memories, like the corners of my mind...

... misty water coloured memories
of the way we were

So I'm packing up to move at the moment and around every corner I am finding little bits and pieces that I had forgotten.

I have just found some old poems I wrote when doing my creative writing degree and they are making me want to work on them again. None of the work I did was really edited properly and I didn't think they were worth it. As I have been reading them I realized they might be worth working through.

One of them I thought I would post as I really like it. It captured exactly what I felt at the time.

Dreams, illness and the big question...

So I was reading the blog of a friend and she was discussing dreams and the effect of illness on them. It got me thinking about the nature of mental illness and it's ability to not only encourage creativity but to stifle it.

In good times imagination is there like a constant companion, commenting on your life or taking you somewhere out of the norm. It inspires you and keeps you going. The internal dialogue seems never-ending and you bask in the beauty of the worlds you are transported to. You get to feel the highs and lows of a life that you never have to live and gain insights into yourself without having to risk.

But in the moment where you need this release the most that is the moment it will abandon you. Cast you aside and leave you languishing in an abyss of nothingness. You brain will switch off and instead of the constant narration of your life and that of your imagination you are left with a blank, a void. What are we supposed to do in that moment?

My friend was discussing this in regards to depression, but I think it applies to more than just that. I have ME or Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and I do not have this problem often. I tend to have the opposite problem most of the time. My brain is too active for my body to keep up and i end up a crumpled heap on the floor. The medication I am prescribed to help with my condition causes the problems I have been discussing.

I have a choice to either take the level of medication that would do me the most good physically and suffer the constant silence in my brain. This is intolerable. It makes me feel how I imagine those at Krakatoa felt when they lost their hearing. I am disorientated and lost without my internal monologue and imagination. The other alternative is to go with a low dose of medication that does little but touch the surface of the problem.

So really the question remains can we live without the constant companion of our imagination? I believe yes, physically we can but we are restricted to life like that of a separated conjoined twin whose twin died during the separation. We are never quite whole and the void left by our other half is almost unbearable. It is a secret pain carried on the inside and I know it is not one I am willing to carry.

Til next time, keep dreaming...

My Week in Tarot

So tonight I took some time to check out my weeks tarot, a day by day account of the next seven days.  I have to say not too shabby.  I was expecting all sorts of badness as this is how my life has panned out of late but to my surprise I turned over a few gems.

I know some cynical people do not believe in the power of the Tarot but the more I have learnt and the more I use them the more sure I become.  I walked into Tarot reading with a heavy amount of skepticism born of my strictly religious upbringing (must frown on anything supernatural or psychic) but I thought I'd keep an open mind.  As it turns out I was right to.

Tarot is an interesting and subtle way of seeing where you are at and a way of frustrating yourself if you are looking for definite answers.  The Tarot, from my experience so far, is there to help you see where there may be no light to provide guidance on how to read the signs that are all around us.  These signs are there whether you read them or not but by being aware of them I feel like I can make a more informed choice with my life.

Don't get me wrong, I have looked to the cards for answers on many occasions and found them unwilling to answer (where the frustration comes in), but in the end this has been for the best.  They show you what they feel you need to know and not necessarily what you want to know.

As it is I think I've done pretty well this evening and for that I am glad.

I'm back to work tomorrow after being off for a week.  I have to say I feel better for the rest.  The lengthy saga of whether or not I should be working still rumbles on but that is something for another blog.  I thought I would be looking forward to returning to work more than I actually am.  The main crux of the argument for work was that I enjoyed the social aspect and I feel I may have just made that issue mute.  More on that later though really I think.

The big debate for tomorrow is on what to wear.  I spend far too much time thinking about what to wear to work when in fact people don't really notice anyway.  besides, who am I doing it for?  I might as well roll up looking like a tramp.  But then that's the problem, the eternal optimist in me says 'well you never know who you'll meet, you may as well look your best'.  It's the same just in case logic that has me religiously wearing matching underwear at all times as 'you never know when you might get ran over'.  For this kind of OCD behaviour I fear there is no cure.

On that sad and pathetic revelation I'll depart, leaving you to mull over my underwear. 

   

Hello Pop Pickers!

So I've arrived and have stage fright issues.  My mind has gone blank and feel like I have cotton wool stuck all inside my mouth.  I am going to behave as my instinct encourages me and scarper quickly before my Retarded Mute act becomes more of an affliction.

Will be back with more startling insights on my on retardedness in due course I am sure.