Personal (OOC)

A place for all posts written out of character and/or personal musings.

Gravity


And you said you need me to let this go
Buts its who I am or am I just losing it
Cos you said jump and I went first but falling’s always been my downfall

But I know you lied when you said that you just had enough and save yourself
So hear me out
You know everybody talks
And it means nothing till you let it
And if you keep second guessing then theres only gonna be one end

But you can leave if you really want to
And you can run if you feel you have to
And I can drink if I feel I have to
I know its hard, but I can’t feel like I used to
Like I used to
Cos I used to defy gravity
Defy gravity
Goodbyes keep dragging me
Down

Credit ~ http://iameden.eu/

Advertisements

Semi-hiatus


I suppose I’ve been on one for a little while now anyway, although I’ve tried to post at least something regularly, but the truth is that I need a bit of time out to try and find my writing bones again, or at least something to write about that has some substance.  Mostly I just need to breathe and to think and try to find those things that I used to feel grateful for every day.

Due to some personal circumstances beyond my control I just feel as if I have nothing to contribute here for the moment that is in any way positive.  I don’t want to be one of those people who pour out every misfortune on their blog, although you’ll forgive me if I do feel the need to do that from time to time.  It is still my space to use as I wish and part of that is a personal venting platform.  I’ve never been a good bottler of emotions, as those of you who have followed me for a long time well know.

I will be back and am still around in a very limited capacity.  Thank you for your support and your continued support of me, and of the things that I create and share.  I appreciate all of you.

Home


I dream about living in some house somewhere with you, some place that has a big porch out front and maybe out back too.  I want to hang laundry on the line while you slave over the lawns that you complain about every time you have to do them and grumble about whose stupid idea was it to live in a house with so many lawns anyway?  And when you’re done doing those lawns, I’ll run you a bath and sit in that thing with you and rub your back and shoulders while you soak your poor aching bones; and I’ll do a really shitty job of it because I’m bad at massages but you’ll tell me that they’re the best thing in the world and nothing makes you feel better like my hands do on you.

And then we’ll go outside and I’ll sit on a seat in that yard that you made look so great while you cook barbecue and we’ll stay out there and eat together and we’ll have to go inside eventually because it gets too cold or starts to get dark.  And then I’ll complain about doing the dishes as much as you complained about having to mow the lawns so you’ll do those dishes with me in that kitchen of ours and I’ll flick you with water and you’ll whip me with the dish towel and we’ll laugh and we’ll forget what we were there for in the first place.

When we’re done, we’ll go and sit in front of the TV even though it’s getting late and there’s nothing but infomercials on or some old overly cheesy 80’s movie and it won’t matter because we’ll be curled up together on that comfy old couch together holding hands or leaning on each other and that’s the part we’ll be there for anyway, just to be close to one another because there’s nowhere else we’d rather be.

After we’ve both yawned our way through a couple of hours of pointless television, we’ll go to bed and I’ll curl up into your side while you lie there on your back staring at the ceiling and we’ll talk about something that doesn’t even make a lot of sense but it’ll be mostly you doing the talking and me smiling and giggling because we do that when we’re tired.  You ramble and I get the giggles and eventually, I’ll start to feel sleepy, but right before I close my eyes you’ll tell me how much you love me and I’ll tell you the same and you’ll say you love me more and on it will go because there’s no beating you in that argument, so I let you win because silently I know that I love you more anyway.   And after you’re asleep and I hear only the sound of you breathing and the rain outside falling on the roof, I’ll be reminded that this is where I’ve always wanted to be, home.

Failing words


What do you do when words are the one thing that you are good at, when they are your best form of expression; they describe who you are, what life means to you, how you feel about others, or not feel about others.

When they are used as your most powerful tool, the biggest, the strongest you have in your very limited arsenal of personal skills.

What do you do and what do you fall back on when those words start to fail, when they are not enough, when they don’t feel as significant as you think they should?

When you feel as if your words are meaningless, not descriptive enough, they don’t tell the stories anymore that you want and need them to?

What do you do, then, when you feel as if you might not be heard anymore?

What is left, then?