Monday 23 December 2013

Questions of the broken soul

Most everyday I find myself wondering why I put myself through the same routines over and over again. Why do I set myself up to be hurt? Why am I constantly attracted to those who are not on the same page as me, who do not want the same as me, who second guess everything while I simply know?

He asked me, "Mimz, how do you know if someone is the one?" I had no answer to this question because from the moment he stole my heart I never once questioned whether he was the one or not. I just knew it. It is not something you have to think about or wonder about. It is something you feel in your bones. It is this age old understanding that is built into your genome. The moment you love honestly and truly, that is the moment you know and you never for a second doubt it. You can only imagine how hurt I was when he asked me that. Knowing that he questioned my position as the one when I never doubted him for a second spoke volumes for itself.

Saying you love someone is easy. However, building yourself up and finding yourself in another person before proclaiming love is completely different. You give in to that person in a whole new way and that is when you know you could never survive a day without them. Yet now that I know that he does not see me as the one, I am unable to process my next step. How am I to continue on with a person who does not see me as that? How can he be the one for me? The feeling is suppose to be reciprocated, right? Is he not suppose to see me in the same light?

We all have fears. Some of us are afraid of dogs and others of commitment but does that fear not fade away when you find love? Or am I simply living in a fool's paradise? Believing that everything fixes itself when you find true love does actually sound very far-fetched. I held on to that childish notion for a long time and he, he proved me wrong in a second. When you lose the innocence of childhood what are you left with but the darkness of reality? You are left with despair and hopelessness and all that wonder and naivety disappears because of one individual.

When you believe someone to be the one you hold on with a desperate hope and that only means that every doubt they share with you tears into your marrow. It destroys you from the inside. I guess I never thought that the one person I would love so truly would also be the one who would break me beyond repair. I do not see myself recovering from this blow. I just see myself fighting for his love day in and day out only for him to hurt me every time he says he is not sure about me.

When will he be sure? Will I ever be the one? Or will he continue leading me down the garden path never giving me a chance to move on when he strikes the inevitable blow?

I wish I had the answers...

Thursday 5 December 2013

You Just Don't!

You just do not get it do you? This world, all its colours and beauty, everything is for you. Every moment is meant to be shared with you. Every molecule of air carries the scent of you. Every light is dim in comparison and every shadow dissipates in your presence.

You just do not get it. You encompass all that is true and meaningful in my mind. You encroach upon every thought until all I can think about is you. There is nothing more important or more real in this endless array of dismay than you. You are and always will be the answer.

Yet you still do not get it. You are my confidant. You are akin to the lock box in the darkest most unlikely of places. You hold within you all my secrets, all my intimate thoughts, hopes and dreams. Every going on, no matter how mundane is known by you. There is not a moment in my meagre existence that I would not want to share with you.

You are my best friend but still you do not get it. I trust you to a fault. I would follow you to the ends of the earth and still trust that you would bring me home safely. I have given over to you completely, entrusted everything of me with you. I trust that you would never break my heart or tear my world apart because my world is you.

How can you not get it? It is everything and it is nothing. It is the fact that if you would agree I would introduce you to my family without a second thought. It is the reality that I could never be your friend alone. It is the knowledge that this will never be a meaningful, serious relationship to you. It is the fact that you will read this and not think it is about you because the truth is the idea of being in a relationship with me scares you. You would rather toy with my emotions all the while keeping me at arms-length should you feel I’m not good enough for you. It is summed up in the understanding that you want everything that comes with a relationship but the relationship itself because I am not even worth that much to you.

And yet you still do not get it. It amazes me. You are everything to me and you just don’t get it. Or is it that you choose not to? There really is no knowing for sure.

You just do not get it.

Friday 29 November 2013

Weakness

Weakness... One loaded word that is easily loathed. Showing weakness of any form is easily despised by the strong or by those aspiring to be so. Yet behind closed doors...

I have always believed that showing weakness in front of others was a terrible move to make. In order to be respected, loved and understood one had to always put on a brave face and breaking down, shying away from the facade in any way, would only result in others looking down upon me. So naturally I mastered the poker face and never let it be known that I was afraid, hurting, sad or any other emotion associated with "weakness".

As previously mentioned though, behind closed doors it was a different story. Being very emotional and easily affected by others I would find myself a ball of depression and devastation. The walls so easily fell away and I would be as vulnerable as a new born baby.  Helpless and afraid I grew to despise even those moments of weakness. I hated showing any shred of emotion that left me so bereft.

However, I started realising that the people I cared for or who cared for me became increasingly worried by my lack of emotion. My ability to hide all forms of pain and anguish scared them more than me bawling my eyes out - something I couldn't understand. I thought seeing me together and well would ease their worries but they yearned to see me vulnerable. They wanted to know I was human, I felt. Not that they thought I was an alien or anything! They just didn't understand me.

I believe, based on experience, that when you allow yourself to be vulnerable people easily take advantage of you. You are easily manipulated and used when you are unable to think beyond the emotions clouding your judgement. Having been in that situation time and time again I knew it had to stop, I had to stop letting people see me as such. The problem is in order to be such you have to shut people out. The fortress can't let anyone in. 

It works well till someone comes along with the sledgehammer and won't take no for an answer.

It is scary ... Letting someone see you at your weakest and all that is going through your mind is how will they use your present state to their betterment. What is even more scary is when all they want is to just be there for you... No ulterior motives. I have no idea how to handle the idea of someone just wanting to help me through the tough times. It makes me want to close up even more, hide away within myself. The fact that someone cares that much about me seems unreal and opening up, as hard as it is, and as perverted as it sounds, is rather difficult.

Trusting a person not to hurt you is incredibly hard but when you do, when you decide enough is enough and let yourself be vulnerable in front of someone, it is more significant than any declaration of love. It is an irrevocable moment, there is no turning back... You've given in...

Sunday 24 November 2013

Untitled

I have been grappling with pain I just can’t seem to escape. As the year comes to a close I find myself still drowning in the tears that first made me start this blog. Time moves on, yes that is true, but somehow I can not seem to move on with it.

That is what happens when you find yourself with all this free time and no way with which to occupy it. The campus year is over, stress has disappeared, friends and loved ones are off on their own missions and everyone just seems so happy. Yet here I sit, unable to sleep, tearful, in pain and I just cannot seem to find a way out of it and worse I have no one to share it with.

I have always been the kind of person who dared not share her issues with those around her. Appearing strong and together has always been my greatest confidence booster but now, all I crave is a shoulder to cry on, someone to hear my woes, comfort me and reassure me that this pain will abate and that they will be there always.

From the moment my cousin left this world and I spent my week of mourning crying myself into dehydration, I chose to bury the pain and grief in a corner of my mind. I filed it away and said I would never go there again and like that I found myself able to move on. I accepted that he had to go and all the other things that come with acceptance but I just could not come to terms with the fact that I would never get to see him again or even say good bye. So I guess forgetting my pain seemed the best plan at the time.

Studying and friends kept me busy and I had no time to dwell on the pain which was fine by me. Truth be told I really believed I had my shit together and that I would be fine. It is funny how one small moment can trigger a cascade of emotion just as a single laceration in the skin can open oneself up to a multitude of bacteria. It was something so small – a friend singing a song as he walked me home “shawty like a melody in my head…” and suddenly I was transported back into the past to a time where things were much different. I remembered the countless hours we spent listening to that song until we were so sick of the words that we could not hear that song without throwing up a little in our mouths.

Just like that I found myself growing restless every night, unable to sleep or eat properly and forcing smiles while secretly I was dying inside. Slowly the darkness crept back in. The box was overturned and the flood gates opened. I found myself falling apart and here I am… unable to breathe from the sheer force of the pain that is radiating through my chest. I cannot for a second understand how I made it through since April. How could I have possibly put these feelings off for so long? The loss I had to bear was so colossal, so unbearable that I cannot even comprehend how I am even able to type out these feelings. I guess when you have no one to talk to this is all you have.

I hate the pity I see in peoples’ eyes when I share this with them. I hate people feeling sorry for me and feeling bad for me. I miss the people who instead of offering up pointless “I'm sorry’s” would just talk shit with me for hours or tell me all the bad things in their life so I would not feel so bad about my own. Those people don’t exist in my life anymore so instead I have to air out my feelings to a virtual audience and just hope I can gain some solace from it.

I feel myself dying a little each day that I am forced to stave off these emotions. All I seek is the comfort of the closed box in the forgotten corner of my mind and even that eludes me. Would someone please roll me a joint so I may smoke away my pain? Because I am fresh out of ideas and I am dying inside, I am losing myself.

No, this is not a cry for help.

This is me just crying myself to sleep one day at a time.

Friday 8 November 2013

'Regrets Collect Like Old Friends'

Regrets collect like stars on a clear night. They are bright and visible to the eye but disappear when another brilliant light decides to come in to view. Yet no matter how often we forget their existence, they still come out to frolic in the darkness of the night.  

Regrets are born out of our actions. We approach situations incorrectly or don’t approach them at all and when things go south we blame ourselves and are doomed to forever live with the consequences of our choices or failure to make a choice.

Doing or saying nothing is by far the biggest regret we tend to find ourselves reliving 10 years down the line. We find ourselves in situations which warrant action to turn the tide in our favour but fear acting upon our desires. As a result things don’t work out in our favour and we find ourselves sitting in the dark wondering just how stupid and pig headed we were. Had we just opened our mouths and said the words we feared to utter out loud, we may be in a vastly different situation than the one we find ourselves in.

This brings me to the main point of my ramblings. Why do we keep things in? Why don’t we articulate the thoughts we keep to ourselves? We can’t expect people to read our minds and if we want things to turn out differently we will have to say what bothers us. Yet we are only human and live in constant fear of the repercussions of our words. We fear what will happen should we say what we feel and it mostly comes down to fearing the unknown. What happens once those words have been spoken is unclear and so we think of every possible outcome and our fear grows.

What we fail to see is that most times the other person is waiting to hear what you have to say. They want you to tell them not to go, or not to do what they were planning. They need to hear you say those words so that they can do the right thing by you. We are so caught up in fear of rejection that we forget the other person has fears too and all they may need, and you come to think of it, is just to hear you speak the words to put their fears to rest.

However, in my current dilemma, as much as I want to say what is on my mind I fear by doing so I am being incredibly selfish. To ask him not to leave, to ask him to stay by my side, serves only me. I can’t impose my desires upon another who wants something else. I am not the object of his desire nor am I what he wants so why do I feel like I should be telling him about the going-ons of my complicated mind? It won’t change much and it will most likely just cause tension but keeping all these thoughts inside scares me. My greatest fear is that when he leaves I will find myself submerged in regret for not speaking my heart’s desire. I can’t help but hope that if I was just as important and above all, if he desired the same as me, he would say it. However, hope is for the foolish and since nothing has been said the answer is as clear as daylight.

Sometimes we need to speak our minds, despite the fear that accompanies the action. If we don’t we will find ourselves living with the regrets and ‘what ifs’ for the rest of our days. We have to face our demons and if we get rejected at least we won’t have to deal with remorse. As for me, well I have never been very good at following my own advice and in 10 years, when grappling with the regret of not having spoken my mind, perhaps I will look back at this moment… or maybe not.

Thursday 7 November 2013

The Moment

I have this nagging feeling at the back of my mind that I can’t seem to shake off. It sauntered into my mind, with all the arrogance the word suggests, in the dead of the night and then proceeded to make itself at home despite my protestations.

Following its entrance it went on to plant many a doubt in the garden of its lovely home in my amygdala leading to all sorts of associated emotions. I am now spiralling down a dark tunnel of fear I would much rather avoid. The main reason being that avoidance of the issue makes it a nonentity thus I can continue as normal.  The moment I begin to think of the consequences and repercussions I can no longer just enjoy myself and live for the moment. Sure the happiness I feel right now is fleeting, but why mar these few moments that I do have with thoughts that will serve only to depress me?

Living for the moment has its benefits and as such also has its downfalls. While it is all fun and games in the moment when the time has passed you find yourself in the middle of an earthquake and the aftermath is not so pretty. You tend to avoid dealing with your emotions and many things tend to be left unspoken, which is okay if you don’t want to talk about it, but at some point all the things we choose not to say may be the single most important thing in turning the tide in our favour. It is however a really nice way to forget all your worries and just have unadulterated fun.

It works, for a limited time. Eventually you start wanting more, or rather without realising it, it comes to mean more. You start a flame, which turns into a roaring inferno that you are unable to put out. You find yourself overcome by emotions and you lose yourself not only to the moment, but to the hope that the moment will never end. You start thinking about the future and forget that this is merely a fleeting moment of happiness.

This is about the point that the nagging feeling walked in and nag it did. It posed all sorts of questions to me that I realised I had no answer to. Sure I am dealing with these fiery emotions but are they truly and honestly reciprocated or am I just being deluded into believing they are? Am I just another number, another name on a list? Oh and the worst one: am I the only one thinking beyond the moment? Any thoughts after 2am are BAD!! Just don’t go there. That is a time for sleep or alcohol not unanswerable questions which causes one to delve in to a sea of misery and despair.

This feeling won’t leave me. It has set up a home and constantly bombards me with more and more questions that serve only to cause me more grief and fear. I am afraid. For the first time in ages I am overcome with such fear that it strangles the air out of my chest and leaves me in such a panic I can’t think or sleep. I am powerless and worse, despite my constant probing I have found nothing to alleviate my suffering. If anything I have only worsened them with the realisation that I am in far too deep and it looks like I am alone in this. It is clear that of the two I am the only one incapable of living in the moment.

All I have learnt from this simple exercise is never to think after 11pm unless it is education related, don’t go for all “the moment” bullshit unless you are male and if you are female don’t buy in to his crappy ideas because you are programmed to want more as much as you tell yourself otherwise. Best stick to what you know best.

Thursday 31 October 2013

Fear in Love

I once heard someone say that fear is the heart of love. At the time that I heard it I scoffed at the mere thought of it. How can you claim to love a person if you are living in fear was the fickle thought that crossed through my mind. Clearly I knew little and less about love at that point in my life.

Fear is an emotion that not only keeps us alive but also keeps us on our toes. It keeps us at our best behaviour and ensures that we stay in line at all times. It isn’t always the best way to live one’s life when viewed as a method of obedience. So how can such a negative and potentially harmful emotion come to be associated with an emotion such as love?

Well I guess the next logical step would be to define love. The mere thought of tackling such a colossal task sends ripples through my cerebrospinal fluid. Being an amateur, a mere poser of a writer, I could not even pretend to have the eloquence and vocabulary required to explain this one simple word. I can however draw from experience and say that love is not something rushed in to; it is something that grows and matures. I don't believe in the ideology of love at first sight. We may find attraction upon gazing at another but love is something deeper. It develops from a deeper understanding of another person that results in you understanding yourself better. It is beyond just an emotion and becomes an aspect of your life. It either builds you or breaks you and largely depends on the reciprocation of the emotion.

So where does fear fit in? For long I have been deluded by the idea of being in love. I have rushed in, declared undying love and the whole shebang. I never truly understood the concept of the emotion in itself. Yet when I allowed myself to understand the person and see the whole picture I found myself feeling emotions stronger than I was used to. For long I denied the idea that it could be love until I realised that it was not a ‘love’ I was used to. It was different, mature and real and this was when fear set in. It was in this moment that those words echoed through the ventricles of my brain and I realised I feared not only for myself but for everything that made me, me.

I fear not that I would lose the other but rather that I would be so consumed by my emotions that I would not be able to stop loving him should he fade back in to the shadows. I fear the uncertainty of love without claim and worse I feel the weight of an uncertain future so heavy upon my shoulders I fear I might break within. I fear, above all else, that he will spend all the love within me, that he will take everything that I have and leave me broken inside.

I don’t fear loving him for love isn’t something to be afraid of. I fear the consequences of the depth of my emotions. The fear is different. Instead of resulting in me stepping back, re-evaluating and adjusting my behaviour as a result of the fear, I find myself rushing in head long. I cannot for a second think of toeing the line or letting the fear consume me. The only thought that rushes through my mind is that this fear is born out of an emotion so different, so strong and so beautiful that despite it all I will be able to live with the fear. At the heart of this love is a fear almost as beautiful as the love itself. It is a fear of loving too much and too deeply but because the emotion I fear is so awe-inspiring, it is logical to assume that the fear is just as so.

The fear does not define the love but the love does define the fear. If you truly understand the emotion you do not find yourself fearing being alone or abandoned but rather you find your fear is something more real, more meaningful.

A singular quote from one of my favourite novels finds itself coming to mind as this random musing comes to a close.

“At first, when we truly love someone, our greatest fear is that the loved one will stop loving us. What we should fear and dread, of course, is that we won’t stop loving them, even after they're dead and gone. For I still love you with the whole of my heart. And sometimes, my friend, the love I have and can’t give to you, crushes the breath from my chest. Sometimes, even now, my heart is drowning in a sorrow that has no stars without you, and no laughter, and no sleep”. (Shantaram- Gregory David Roberts)

Saturday 19 October 2013

Outreach

I think  I have over stepped , reached too far and expected too much.  That's the problem  when  we step out of our comfort zones and try and reach for the stars so far away. 

Everybody deserves the best for them and this of course differs between person to person and on the situation.  There is rarely a time when two people will find themselves deserving of the same thing.  I don't say that some people deserve better than others, I'm simply stating that every person has a different standard and should reach out for it.

We set the bar for our expectations and hopes either too high or too low.  We usually opt for the latter when we are afraid that we might not get what we deserve and by doing such we are more likely to find something.  The problem with this type  of thinking however is that we vastly underestimate what we are worthy of and find ourselves constantly hurt by the choices we make.  We settle for far less than we should and that serves to achieve nothing.

In other situations we find ourselves setting the bar just way too high.  We want too much and have so many requirements and standards that finding a person or situation that meets all of them becomes impossible.  Instead we find ourselves constantly turning down  opportunity after opportunity simply because we believe that we are more deserving.  In the end we find ourselves realising that the list was far too unrealistic to start with.  If you are lucky the realisation comes early enough to make amends and search anew.  However for the vast majority of people out there, this only occurs when we have spent the vast majority of our lives and time searching for the fulfillment of our requirements.  By the time we realise we had expected too much we have neither the time nor the energy to go out and try again.

It is imperative to set a standard that is compatible with the person and situation you are in.  You can't go out expecting a diamond when you are still being refined.  Like minded people are automatically attracted to each other and you can't expect someone completely out of the box to step into your radar.  While this isn't impossible, it is a realistic way of approaching the situation.  Some may say the person is out of your league.  I beg to differ as no one person is better than another as the statement suggests. Instead, they are not compatible or they just don't match up with what you are deserving of.

Again, we all deserve what is best for us but to determine what the best is we have to understand who we are and what agrees and brings out the best in us. Because while the person may match you impeccably on paper, if they fail at making you better or bringing out the positivity in you, you are safer reaching out for the outlier who is so different from the general standard that he doesn't belong there at all.

Realising your worth, and realising what you are worthy of is an important stepping stone in building up our esteem. Many a time we underestimate our worth despite so many people seeing otherwise.  Sometimes the only way we can truly see it is by listening to how others see us and above all believing it to be true.

See your worth, set the standard and don't go out reaching for the fanciest star in the sky.  Those are the ones most likely to burn you.

Thursday 17 October 2013

The Cherry On Top

Have you ever experienced those days where the entire world comes crashing down around you and no matter how hard you try, your screams only seem to increase the gravitational pull? Well today was one such day.

I believed I would conquer the world as I rose from my bed and gazed upon the cloud covered sky.  As if that wasn't an omen enough I even sang a tune through my usual morning ritual.  Little did I know...

I guess my day could have been worse but coupled with the fact that I had to spend my religious festival away from those I loved just added to the shit storm that was clearly predicted by those morning rain clouds.  We all put off the inevitable especially when we have an inkling of what is to come. We look for every excuse to forget that things  are about to get really bad really fast and instead we choose to live behind a facade of smiles and formalities believing that such behaviour will prolong the eventuality.  The truth is, the longer we put it off the worse the situation becomes.

Dealing with disappointment when it happens would have probably seen to it that today wasn't as bad as it turned out.  Had I found a way to deal with the overpowering emotions I felt at being separated from my family yesterday, I probably would have found a way to let today turn out better than expected.  Instead I chose to forget the obvious pain I felt at having to spend such an auspicious and family orientated day beneath my blanket watching chick flicks and eating ice cream.  I made myself believe that it wasn't so bad and that I, a very family orientated person, was actually having a nice day to myself.  The truth was that it was just the crowning event to what had been a terrible start to a year.

Yes, my year did get a lot better and things really did look like they were turning around.  I met great people, forged new relationships and had finally managed to put all the pain and heart ache I had been experiencing behind me.  The bitch called life was far from satisfied with my happiness and the cherry on top was the worst examination of my career (currently)  coupled with no one to turn to when the culmination of all my woes came crashing down.

Shittiest day of the year? Why I think so.

Sunday 29 September 2013

Stargazers

You have lived your life beneath the stars waiting for the moment when you could meet a person to share the view with. Little did you realise that the cosmos would find themselves sitting beside you and not above you.

Corny I know but incredibly true. We all eventually end up meeting a person who becomes as important as the stars above us. They begin to fill a space in your life once left empty until before you realise it you have a shared future, or at least hope you do. You become addicted and cannot wait for your next hit.

When suddenly you are left to go cold turkey you find yourself suffering from such severe side effects from the withdrawal that you start questioning whether you can go on. You find yourself going through stages, each one worse than the one before, until eventually you realise that, to be colloquial, “you got it bad”.

Stage 1, Positivity: you are convinced that you can survive the withdrawal and come out stronger than when you started. You fill your mind with the idea that you were fine before so you will be fine after and that you do not need something to define you. At this point anyone who would meet you could hazard a guess that you are doing well and will clearly get by…

That is until Stage 2, Despair: you begin to realise that the positivity is all bullshit. There is no way to continue without that fix and you would willingly risk anything to get it, even do things you were previously against. Surviving seems impossible and trying to envision what your life was before seems close to impossible. All you can think of is your life with the addiction, everything before seems nothing more than a haze.

Stage 3, Aggression: despair ultimately culminates in anger. Your emotions know no other outlet and you find yourself lashing out at everyone and everything. You ignore people, pick fights, lose your temper, storm off and are just generally peeved. It seems the only logical way to cope with the ever growing frustration as a result of being apart and there is no way out.

Stage 4, Withdrawal: Eventually you become disgusted with your behaviour and ashamed of how you have treated those around you and so you withdraw into yourself. You lock yourself in your room and stare at the blank laptop screen fearing even surfing the internet as you might find some reminder there of the “good times”. So you choose to sleep, barely eat and just hope the time passes by. There really is no other way out of this.

Stage 5, Insomnia: eventually you find that you have slept so much that you cannot possibly sleep anymore. This time you fill your sleepless nights with all sorts of brain-wracking activities hoping to forget your pain, forget the gaping hole of darkness within your life that threatens to consume you. Keep busy, forget the pain, it may just eventually go away. The question you are left wondering is whether you do want it gone… insomnia leads to many and more questions that lead to the same answer: you would do anything for one more pull, one more sip, one more kiss….


What comes after stage 5 you may ask? I have no idea but in my sleeplessness I find myself gazing reverently at the stars hoping the cosmos above can give me the strength to overcome the loss of the star I found upon the Earth. Gazing at the stars above I cannot help but think how sad they look, they have lost all their lustre now that my gaze has fallen upon another far brighter star. 

Corny I know yet incredibly true...

Monday 9 September 2013

Petri Dish of Uncertainties

I cannot contain these emotions that fester within the petri dish of my mind. The uncertainty coupled with the ever blossoming emotions leave me stunned. How do I decide what to do with myself? How do I overcome these fears?

It was all well and good when I lived with a simple, largely uncomplicated friendship. Sure we went through the motions of the usual opposite-gender based friendship: friends; are we more?; let’s try more; didn't work; back to friends. Usually going back to friendship is largely impossible but somehow that seemed to work for us. Just like an unwashed petri dish discovered penicillin, so too did our recombinant friendship result in so much more.

It is hard to give up on a friendship that is so simple. The ease by which we could communicate, the interest manifesting within our conversations and the aura of sorts that existed between our beings was hard to resist. Despite everything our kinship persisted.

Of course, the friendship alone wouldn't last too long. The feelings that had existed once would always find a way to creep back in but this time we were prepared. We were ready and the timing seemed appropriate. We flourished. We found strength in each other, found emotions hard to contain and now I find myself lost in this whirlpool of such strong emotion I fear I might drown.

I can't help but reiterate the simplicity. It is beyond comprehension. The way we flow and merge in everything we do is outstanding. Our thoughts and ideas, the way we understand the other just through a look or action, our love of the same things (each other included) and so much and more, just makes me fall more and more for him.

However, the uncertainty of what tomorrow (and in this case next year) shall bring looms over us like a blade of a guillotine. We have no way of knowing what will come to pass but we are aware of the options. In this 50/50 gamble we either make it or we don't. I fear that as my emotions continue to grow so too will I become more afraid of the inevitable.

I can't imagine him as anything other than a permanent fixture in my life. Should he leave I know I will be crushed. I will find a way to go on, we all do, but I don't want to reach that point. I don't want to imagine my life without him as he has come to mean so much to me in so short a time.

Sometimes you meet a person and in a short space of time you come to realise that you could spend your life with them. I could spend my life with you and never for a second grow tired of your incessant childishness and charm.

Yet my luck speaks for itself. Every person I find myself with finds themselves leaving for the City of Gold to live their dreams and while I will never hold him back, I can't help but pray he does not leave.

If he does it is clear as day to me – lesbianism is the only way to go.

Wednesday 28 August 2013

The Queen and Her Castle

I am weak.

I am fragile.

I am everything I thought I would not be.

I always thought I was strong. Nothing and no one could touch me. The heart that had been the source of constant pain had, to my knowledge, been apoptosed.

After everything I lost and everything I endured I figured I would be safe if I built a castle around myself. Painstaking as it was, I laboured on till I had built up the defences to my exact specifications. Twenty metre high walls too smooth to find a foothold and topped with high voltage electric wiring. A moat eight metres wide fully equipped with alligators. On the offhand chance that someone made it passed this they would find themselves doused in boiling oil. With bowmen, spearmen, a cavalry and foot soldiers at my dispense I comfortably sat in my tower and built my strength.

Never again would I be caught unaware.

Never again would I hurt.

Never would I cry.

Or so I thought.

It takes one daring ranger, up for the challenge to find a way passed all your defences. It takes stealth and guts but he possessed them all. Disguised as one of my own he found his way into the castle and by winning the trust of those around him, he gained my notice. Summoning him into my presence is probably a moment I will always look back at with ambivalence.

He sauntered in upon his high horse, dashing and charming and won me over with his grace and wit. He became my trusted advisor, friend and somewhere along the way the lines were blurred and he became more than just that. He came to mean more to me than my vendetta for self-protection.

He filled my waking hours with his presence and filled my sleep with dreams filled with a myriad of colours where once there only stood darkness. I knew the risks, but I perceived my walls to be so strong that should things go south I would be fine.

All the pain that led me up to the moment he walked into my throne room seemed worth it. Had it not been for the pain I would never have met him, he would never have healed me and I would never have known happiness. Yet happiness is such a fickle emotion. It comes and goes as easily as a rain storm and leaves nothing but destruction and devastation in its path.

Despite knowing all of this, I rushed in. I gave too much too soon and found myself in love. Love and happiness cannot exist simultaneously for too long. Eventually one will leave and you will either find happiness alone or love with pain. I thought I could have the best of both worlds. I believed that falling in love with him was the best thing that could have ever happened to me and I let my defences down. Worst mistake ever! I let my army slack, did not push them as hard and when happiness left and the storm of destruction beat down upon us I was unprepared.   

I broke.

No, I shattered into a million pieces.

Every tear I swore I would never shed found itself cascading down my overflowing conjunctiva. My castle began to fall apart. My army scattered and my walls falling I turned to the one person I believed would shelter me from it all only to realise that he was the reason I was falling apart. The single most important person in my life, the sole person to hold both my love and my trust was the one waiting with the dagger to plunge in to my heart. Betrayed I fled.

I withdrew more and more into myself and here I lie.

Weak

Devoid of emotion

Hurt

Crying

And with no escape from the destruction I brought upon myself.

Trust no one for even when you think you are strong enough to find a way out if they break your heart, you will realise that you are weak and feeble and will destroy everything you worked so hard to build.

Self-Pity

Self-pity gnaws at my consciousness. I cannot think nor can I comprehend how or what or why I am sitting in this empty room filled with fear, questioning everything and everyone.

My dilapidated life tends to appear whole and well to the odd passer-by. Little do they know of the emotions that constantly assail my waking hours. They know nothing of the struggles, the constant roller coaster of pain and exhilaration that has been these last 8 months. They see the smile and the cheerfulness, rarely do they see a glimmer of pain but this is easily brushed off with a simple “I'm just tired”. They don't question beyond and that is fine by me. My pain has always been my own.

I can't help but run through the usual process of self-pity. The usual questions of ‘why me?’ and ‘won't things ever get better?’ seem quite redundant when you've been repeating them for so long. They lose their meaning and their intent. Or perhaps it is just that I have been feeling sorry for myself for so long that it has become a norm.

That aside, what gets me the most is when I finally think I've got it all figured out. I mean really, you would think after the year I've had I would finally have some sort of luck. I thought so too. I assumed everything was finally falling into place in the most unlikely way. The least expected occurrence comes along and suddenly I feel like I've got everything figured out. Well that’s what you think…. What you know though is a totally different thing.

It does come as quite a shock when you realise that everything isn’t really smooth sailing as you initially perceived it to be. Just like Guillain-Barre Syndrome, the onset is insidious. You wake up one morning expecting everything to run as it always has only to realise that you have ascending paraesthesia and no way to do anything about it.

It comes as a huge shock followed by such overwhelming self-pity that you can no longer function. You want to cry, scream and yell. Sleeping seems the only escape from this sudden hell-hole that you have found yourself in and food well…. It no longer appeals to you. What is the most shocking thing of all is that all of this has occurred in just under 18 hours. Shocking right? To be so affected by one small change in events is nothing short of sinister on life’s behalf.

The worse thing is that you can't do much about it. You just have to leave it in the hands of destiny and hope against hope (something I'm not fond of) that things will work out in your favour. However, in order for that to happen you have to wait. Patience has never been my strong point and it is only exacerbated by the onslaught of terrible thoughts and emotions that seem to take over everything I do.

So while I wait for what I hope will be the answer to all my sorrows I have decided to sleep away the pain. At least in my drug-induced coma I don't have to deal with the heartache, anger and pain. Everything just sort of slips away and I am at peace.

Tuesday 27 August 2013

Choice, Lessons and Ignorance

We live and we learn. We face all sorts of trials and tribulations and come out having gained some sort of insight. We learn that all our actions have consequences and we always have a choice. The things we do, the people we allow in to our lives and the way we treat others are all a choice.

We can either love or hate, interact or be indifferent. Whatever we chose, regardless of the outcome, is something we have to live with. Sometimes we don't realise the negative impact of our choices and continue on with them. We live in disillusion, telling ourselves that we have no idea why we are doing things or that they just played out in a certain way. The truth of the matter however, is that we allowed it to happen as such. We could have done otherwise, chosen a different route, but instead we followed the path and didn't differ.

The sad thing is, when the proverbial shit hits the fan we have no one else to blame but ourselves. We made that choice. We determined the end result and just as a hypertensive who doesn't exercise ends up in hospital, so too do we end up hurting. What we do today will determine how we will feel tomorrow or sometime in the distant future.

It hurts more when our choices result in the loss of something dear to us. We don't even realise it but all the imperceptible little actions that govern our daily behaviour is nothing short of our destruction. We do these things without thinking and therein rests our downfall. We don't think beyond the moment or action. It that small space of time within which we make that irrevocable mistake we forget to think beyond. We forget the importance of projecting into the future and so that action results in the loss of what once mattered.

Again we have no one to blame but ourselves. Yet, instead of accepting responsibility for our actions we seek to lay the blame whichever way we can. We blame timing, fate and other people. What we fail to see is that we are the unalterable reason. No one else is responsible for you but you. Should you lose a person whom you care for dearly, it will be through your actions or failure thereof.

Like I've mentioned before, life will continue to teach us the same lesson continually until we learn it. Until we learn to accept responsibility for the choices we make, we will continue making the wrong ones believing we aren't doing anything wrong. I mean, why stop when you don't see anything wrong in it? It amazes me how inapt we are in realising the errors in our ways. We fail continually to see how our actions hurt others.

We live in nothing short of ignorance. While ignorance may be bliss for the oblivious, it can be our greatest curse. It can result in the demise of all things meaningful.

It can destroy us.

Monday 26 August 2013

Tornado

If I had to contemplate how it all began I don't think I could possibly find the starting point nor even imagine the likelihood of there being an end, even though it seems an eventuality. It started with the usual caution and ‘beware the dog’ signs. Everyone who was anyone to me cautioned me against being brash and ‘acting out’. The lectures turned into seminars but the advice was all the same - boys are out for one thing and one thing only so be careful where you rest your heart.

Heeding the advice of others, however, when you are faced with a world so unlike anything you ever imagined is difficult. He stepped in like a gale wind and soon I found myself bowled over by the sheer force of him. Lost in the tornado my entire universe ended up spinning out of control and boy did I like the exhilaration.

If I had to sit down and count all the things that have come to light through this engagement of sorts I'd probably be sitting up all night. Yet, when first I asked myself, ‘why am I so smitten by it all?’ a few things did come to mind.

Firstly I never knew I was a humorous person. Seriously! Yes I have an exceptionally dirty mind, but there are only a select few who are privy to that sort of humour. I'm talking about honest-to-god, clean simple humour. It amazes me how much I can make him laugh without even trying. It is like all these really funny, cool thoughts just come striding into my consciousness whenever we are together. Or maybe he thinks they are funny even though they aren’t… or maybe he is laughing at me… or maybe he is trying to humour me by making me feel as though I'm capable of making others laugh!!! Oh no, there goes my complicated thought process again. Well regardless of what it is, he laughs – even at the perverted jokes, which is an instant +20 in my books.

Secondly, all these emotions manifest in his incredible childlike ease. It amazes me how simple and childish he can be all the while projecting a strong and mature front. His intolerable habit of rebelling every time he hears the word “no” or “don't” is a constant source of amusement. It is all summed up by the glint in his eyes followed by that terribly mischievous smile that crosses his face as he stretches out his hand to press the ominous red button clearly labelled “DO NOT TOUCH”. The more he is denied, the more he has to try it and the more annoying he becomes. Yet all of that amounts to me just falling more and more for him.

Thirdly he is a nerd of note. Reads the news, follows all these tech savvy websites and blogs and is constantly bombarding my daily life with all sorts of computer and programming jargon that sometimes I wonder if I am more in tune with the ways of technology than with a stethoscope. Worst of all I enjoy every minute of it. The pursuit of knowledge is an unquenchable thirst that he feeds with a litre of water every time we speak. I have learnt so much and I find it so incredibly (for want of a better word) hot that he is intelligent that I actually get weak around the knees. Terribly childish I know, but intelligence is just so…. well you can do that math on that one.


I find myself spiralling out of control as I let each gust of wind push me closer and closer to the edge. I am incapable of walking through it and as I let the wind tip me over the edge I can't help but hear all the warnings echo around me. So what if they are true? I can’t help but fall in love even though I know it is a bad idea. If all he wants is one thing, I'll just be another fool. Yet how can I know his true intentions without giving in to the emotions? 

And so I am lifted off my feet, like Dorothy's home, tossing about in this tornado unsure if I will emerge unscathed. It is a risk I fear I am willing to take.

Tuesday 20 August 2013

Read all about it!

It is official! Guys are insufferable, dim-witted, thick skulled cretins that deserve a few sessions of shock therapy to open new neural pathways so that they may for the first time in their lives do the unthinkable… THINK.

While you might think I am stereotyping and being incredibly rude and horrid to the male species… I can guarantee you that I am NOT. Far too many years interacting with them on every level possible has led me to this conclusion.  It is undeniable and there is no escape. Men are insufferable when asked to think.

I sometimes wonder how it is possible that they are incapable of reading even the most obvious signs and signals. Fair enough, we women do play things a little difficult. We say things in a very roundabout way, we hate saying how we truly feel and we love going with the “You can do what you like” option. Really though, after thousands of years of civilization you are telling me that men have in no way evolved to the level where they have adapted to understanding us? This can't be possible.

Based on the number of jokes made regarding this very aspect you think men would learn. Many a truth is said in jest my dear, so open up your goddamn eyes and realise that there is a lot behind our offhand behaviour and apparent okay-ness. We are hurt and lost and confused and your obvious inability to see this despite being raised by a woman just makes things worse.

Sometimes I am of the opinion that appearing stupid by nature serves men in the sense that they don't have to deal with the repercussions of their actions. They just pass it off as “we are guys” or “you women are complicated” when in actual fact they are just avoiding the inescapable truth.

More times than not, we end up far more damaged and hurt. Gosh! Just grow a pair and realise we are afraid of losing you. We care, we love and we can't help but fall apart when you don't realise just how much you are hurting us. We aren't made of stone for heaven's sake.

I am seriously of the opinion that men may need to inject themselves with a little oestrogen from time to time to counteract the obvious detrimental effects of testosterone overdose on their brain cells. It makes them incapable of thinking beyond the dangling contraption of all things pleasurable that resides between their legs. Honestly, I think the vast amount of their brain power goes towards the utilisation of it and whatever little remains is overridden with sports and food.

If ever they spend any of their neural cells in contemplating their relationship toward us it will be a miracle. In layman’s terms… it is impossible. Not improbable, which would imply it could come to be, but impossible.

In the meantime, to all the women out there trying desperately to make him realise the most obvious of sentiments my advice is to not only articulate reeeaaalllyyyy slooooowwwwllllyyyy but to gesticulate, possibly learn sign language, invest in a huge poster and maybe even employ some skywriting.

If he still doesn’t realise he is being a douche consider homosexuality. At least we understand each other.

Thursday 15 August 2013

Those Eyes

I looked up from the glowing inferno that was my soul and my wandering gaze fumbled upon your eyes. Taken aback by the intensity of your smouldering gaze, I caught myself as I stumbled into their depths.

While the eyes still remain the window to the soul, his eyes were the escape I sought from the darkness of mine own. Looking into his eyes I realised that the darkness that has been consuming me could be forgotten. There was an escape route.

Like a meth addict I found myself going back again and again to find myself lost in the intensity of his stare. Those deep brown eyes burned into my being and laid me bare. They sought to see the conflict and madness dancing like wild flames against the backdrop of blood thirsty lions and mourning wolves. They saw all… they questioned nothing.

I still find myself drawn into their spiralling depths. I began to explore the dark hallways and locked doors hidden within those eyes. Consumed by what can only be described as a furious desire to overcome my pain, I discovered his. The locked doors, as friable as a cervical tumour, opened to my touch and images of pain and betrayal, love and lust, joy and hatred rushed to meet me.

Disorientated and consumed I realised the reason I was so drawn by that stare. They resembled my own pain. My own desire for understanding and meaning had attracted me to a like minded person. His pain was equivocal and as real and raw as my own. We sought to take comfort in each other's eyes for within them we found acceptance. It was suddenly okay to be broken and damaged. It didn't matter that the very fabric of our individual universes were coming apart. We had suddenly found each other and with it the opportunity to create a whole new world – one devoid of the emotions captured within our souls.

Yet those eyes… I could never escape them no matter where life takes me. They have been burned into my retinas and no matter the situation, I just have to close my own and I can see them. The wide-eyed, dark brown, long-lashed eyes deepened and enhanced by the depth of emotion and pain contained therein.

They are dynamic. When they chance upon me across a crowded room, or when they meet mine in the throes of intimacy they achieve nothing short of an electric jolt through the cerebrospinal fluid encasing my spinal cord. They have the ability to render me speechless not to mention throw me over the edge of nervousness.

Beneath his intense gaze I am nothing short of putty in his hands. Tremulous and trepid, I am lost and don't want to be found. I am consumed and could spend the rest of my days lost beneath his stare.

If only I could articulate the profound emotions that course through my veins when he looks at me so…

If only I could muster up the courage to let down my guard so he can visualise just how much he has stolen from me….

If only he knew the true power of his eyes…

They are… irresistible… unequivocal…

Sunday 11 August 2013

Lessons

I don't think it takes much to realise that you are falling down the rabbit hole yet again. Just when you thought you escaped the darkness and seemingly never-ending fall into a world you would rather not discover, you find yourself there again.

The worst part is that you keep telling yourself “never again” and “I have learnt from my mistakes” and yet there you go and make them again. Someone once told me that till you truly learn your lesson life will keep teaching it to you again and again. Boy was that person right.

Clearly I did not learn the most important lesson of all “love is a dangerous game”. With 30 Seconds to Mars blasting in my ears I hear yet another statement that fits in rather perfectly “hearts were made for breaking and for pain”. I guess I should have learnt that the last time I ended up with a broken heart.

Yet it is so easy to fall into the same trap again. To let yourself fall so easily for someone who projects the exact person you would have always wanted is the easy part. It is when you realise just how easily they can break your heart that the real lesson of life races toward you like a heart in atrial fibrillation – rapid and irregular.

It takes a single moment in time to totally and irrevocably give yourself over to a person and it is when this moment is over and you are laid bare that you realise just how much you are falling. It is in this moment, or the aftermath of it, that life will send you the inescapable curveball. Some statement said without much thought, or some realisation will hit and you will be left with the realisation that the two of you may not be in the same place. It could be that the emotions are reciprocated by the other but at the same time it could also be that they are hiding far more from you than you initially anticipated.

What then? The wounds carefully sutured need just a slight tug to reopen and leave you bleeding out. It might be easier to just let the blood gush out than rush and seek medical attention. Sometimes the end is better than starting all over again… sometimes there is no second, third or fourth chance at love.

Like I said… falling is the easy part, it is everything that comes with it that leaves you with a serious case of insomnia and no possible solution. Eating your way through slabs of chocolates and tubs of ice cream will only serve to make you fat not chance upon an epiphany.

I guess when you go places you never have before, you expect a lot more… you hope for a lot more than is actually there. You feel stupid and want to sever your femoral artery when you realise just how easily you let yourself be drawn in by a person who could disappear in a second, or worse – use you as a means of dealing with their own pain.

So here I am, learning my lesson again and again ….

Life, I think I've learnt my lesson now; can we please stop picking on me yet?

Friday 26 July 2013

Cue Self-Loathing

What am I doing with myself? I find that I ask myself that question at least three times a day. Yet, I am unable to answer this question.

I find that there are times where I don't even recognise the person I have become. I guess growing up requires that we change and in many ways I have changed for the better but there are still these moments when I look at myself with disappointment, loathing the things I do and I just can't seem to do anything about it.

Sometimes I wonder if I made different decisions, chose to do things differently, perhaps I wouldn't be in this situation. There was a time not so long ago where I was content with things as they were and never questioned my actions. With the upheaval of that person, I just feel lost and unsure. I find myself second guessing everything I do.

Randomly I find myself going off on a tangent, questioning my very existence to no avail. I am still doing the things I do and I am still finding myself sitting down and hating these very same decisions. I was a very different person and would never have made these sorts of decisions once upon a time. Time and circumstances saw me become someone different and though I complain of disliking this person, I can't seem to be able to overcome the static friction required for me to change.

I keep telling myself I am better, I deserve better and I should actively seek betterment. I live with the thoughts that I deserve someone who will help me fulfil this realisation yet I'm sitting in a stagnant pool of water with no idea how to swim. The ideal is good, but the ability to reach it is severely lacking.

Being content with my lot is really hard. There are many things I am grateful for and would never trade but there are also things I wish I could get rid of. Sometimes I wish I was born in a different era – but now I digress. The issue is of the 21st century no matter how much I wish I was born in the medieval era, my problems will still be the same.

I can't help but wonder if the people I have chosen to surround myself with are a good choice. Some are, without a doubt. These people play an active role in making me a better person through inconspicuous nudges in the right direction. There are however, the one or two unclassified individuals. Why are they in my life? Am I holding out for them? Is there any possibility of a future? Or are they simply just adding to the increasing amount of self-loathing?

Sometimes I wish I could just wake up with all the answers or even better, realise that the life I am currently living is but a dream. I do strongly believe that this life is inconsequential in the greater scheme of things but sadly, right now this life is all I've got and I have to find a way of making it bearable.

My dreams are far more fascinating than my reality and so I find myself sleeping a lot in hopes of an escape. My conundrum isn't a problem of loss of direction. I know what I want from my future and am actively pursuing it. The problem is one of the here and now. How do I shape my adolescence to ensure that my future is fruitful? I’d rather deal with these issues now in order to have a semblance of stability in the future.

Despite being able to air these issues I find that I still have no clarity on how I am to overcome the constant questioning… What am I doing with myself? Honestly and truly, I have no answer.

Cue self-loathing.

Thursday 25 July 2013

Action speaks louder than words

Just a few days ago a friend of mine had the opportunity to take her relationship to new heights. After more than a year of being in an “unlabelled” relationship of sorts, her other half took it upon himself to profess his love to her.

Due to a rather tenacious internet connection and obstinate laptop, I was unable to share this story sooner. The extra time however, lent itself toward increasing my thought process on the matter.

In relation to my own experiences, as well as the experiences of many of those close to me, it seems that saying “I love you” has become such a norm that the words have lost their value. Driven by the belief that the relationship will only hold meaning once these words has been said has resulted in it being said far too early, far too often and has become meaningless.

Though this may seem rather pointless, it does pose a problem, especially in youth. The younger we are the more we yearn for something and someone greater than ourselves. We become consumed  with the idea of being in love that should another claim they feel that way about you, you find yourself becoming far too emotionally attached.

In the era of serial monogamy this problem becomes greatly exaggerated. As we go through a series of partners, each one claiming to love us, we start forgetting the real meaning of these words. We forget the true essence of what it means to ‘love’. It is easy to fall into the trap of monotony and soon a pattern develops. The words no longer carry weight and should someone actually say these words with all the correct feelings behind them, we bear them no mind. Sort of like the boy who cried wolf.

I understand that immaturity and childhood lends itself some leeway in the matter. Yet, what we learn in our foundational years sets the precedent for how we will live out our adult lives. If we start off using such loaded words flippantly, we will never truly appreciate their beauty when we finally settle down with a single person.

The act of love is just that - an act. It is not contained within the words and saying them robotically means nothing in comparison to our actions. It is what we bring to the table that truly matters. Romance as a bonus, the true meaning lies in how we build the other person up and vice versa. It is an on-going process that means little if only professed and not acted upon.

So why not wait? Why not hold back for the right person and more importantly why not wait till you truly feel that way? Saying you love someone shouldn't be part of a routine nor should it be mechanical. It need not be said every single day nor does every profession need to be accompanied by an “I love you too” (except perhaps the first time - no one wants a "thank you" following the initial profession).

Actions speak louder than words. If you can show your love every day, you need not say it. Some things are obvious enough and though verbal reiteration does help, it isn’t the only thing that matters.

Monday 22 July 2013

Smile

The effect of this single act of smiling is magical. It can transform an entire visage into one of merriment and joy. It lessens the burden of the soul and above all it is contagious.

Walking down the street on a gloomy day surrounded by people in dreary moods can really put a damper on the start to a could-be-wonderful day. Yet out of the clouds threatening to pour rain, arrives this simple person bearing the broadest smile upon their face and suddenly your entire day is transformed.

Smiling is a charity. It brings happiness to everyone who happens to glance at it. Some smile at the pure ridiculousness of it while others can’t explain why seeing others happy makes them feel likewise. It is like watching a group of kids play together in a sandbox. Their carefree spirit and obvious pleasure fills the onlooker with joy. Why?

The answer is simple, happiness is contagious. It is something that we overflow with to the point that we begin to fill the empty vessels around us with the same emotion. This is why happiness can only be described as a gift and the ultimate way to share it is through smiling at strangers, offering a greeting or lending a hand to someone. Without even realising it you could change the entire dynamic of a person’s day.

Our reasons for smiling are endless. Many of us are blessed with amazing friends or lovers who have the ability to bring a smile on your face no matter the time and place. To be blessed with such individuals is something unexplainable. They can turn your entire mood around simply by being in your presence and should they be absent even for a day, their absence is felt far above everything else.

Yet, having people in your life isn’t the only reason to smile. Realising that every day that we wake up alive should be enough to make any person smile. Every night as we fall asleep we can never be too sure if we will wake up again. When we do open our eyes to the light of a new day we should not hesitate to smile at this new opportunity to live. We have families, homes, education and so much more that we should never run out of reasons to smile.

If all else fails and you are stuck as to what on earth to do when all you can do is frown… Google some lame joke and I guarantee you will be far from sad.

On that note I leave you with something that not only made me smile, but had me laughing for hours on end. There are always reasons to smile.

Sunday 21 July 2013

We are alone

Everybody we love and everything we care about in this world eventually fades away. We can't rely on anything lasting and though we may rely on people we can't expect them to be there indefinitely.

Eventually we have to come to terms with the fact that we entered this world alone and one day we will leave it in the same state. All the worldly possessions we have accumulated, hoarded and treasured, will endure while we will perish. Everything we have worked hard to achieve will wither away and eventually, nothing will remain. Maybe someday down the line someone will Google your name and your Facebook or Twitter page might pop up, but apart from that we will leave nothing that can endure time.

The people we meet may seem important right now. We may give them all our attention and time but there will come a time when they will leave you or you will choose to leave them. The space they occupied within your life will be empty for a while and you will mourn their absence. Give it a week or two and slowly their memory will fade until the empty space just a few millimetres left to your right atrium becomes occupied by some other worry. Just like worldly possessions, we won't be able to take any of the people with us when we leave and so essentially we find ourselves alone.

I'm reminded of a poem I was exposed to in high school – Ozymandias by Percy Bysshe Shelley. The profound words of wisdom contained within its stanzas were of little consequence to me back then. A specific extract in particular always finds itself floating around in my mind. Now, as I reread words I am struck by just how true they are. 


"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.'

I shudder at the thought of how much time we spend trying to accumulate wealth at the expense of our character and our actual being. We forget we will leave this world alone, that all we leave will be forgotten. We forget that what will remain of us is what we leave with our children – what we teach them and how they live out their lives. They are probably the only ones who will remember us when we leave this world. Material objects amassed won't mourn your departure, of that I am sure.

I know that this is a very cynical view. It is actually very morbid and depressing and most likely you are probably feeling quite hopeless. I wish I could ease your mind but I cannot. The fact of the matter is that no one really cares about you but yourself. People will enter your life but how many will remain? How many truly want to be there and how many will fight to be a part of your life despite everything? I doubt there are many, if any.

So while we cling to the materialism of this world to fill the void of companionship or love, no matter what happens we will leave this world as we entered it… alone and possibly crying for how little we achieved and how quickly we will be forgotten.

Thursday 18 July 2013

The Unexpected

Today I was told, in the midst of learning the technique required to perform a gynaecological exam, that I was to place my middle finger into the rectum of the dummy upon which we were practising.  You could not begin to imagine the shock that contorted the faces of the 7 to 8 other students who were attending the practical. What was more surprising was the ease and nonchalance by which the doctor announced this to us.

It was so… unexpected. Of course we all expected that we would have to place our fingers into the vagina, but the rectum? You have got to be kidding me! After the shock wore off I found my mind drifting. I know you must be wondering how on earth it is possible to encounter profound musings while having one’s fingers in the rectum of a dummy. Well guess what? It is possible!

How often do we find ourselves in situations we never expected? We all live our lives in a bubble of sorts; drifting in space, now and again merging with other bubbles containing other people and very rarely we find ourselves thrown against a sharp object and “pop!” we go crashing to the earth. It is these rare, unexpected moments that leave you either feeling a sense of euphoria or makes you feel as though you have something stuck up your backside, which in the case of the gynaecological exam would be apt.

So many times I have encountered friends who build up extensive checklists of all the traits that they expect their husbands to have and all too often do I find myself at their weddings only to discover that the person they marry is polar opposites of what they envisioned. Whenever I ask what changed I always get the same vague, elusive answer, “It just happened”.  What just happened? Did you finally realise that no man could ever fulfil that rather ridiculous checklist? Did you discover that you needed to act fast or end up alone forever? Or did it just click? Did the unexpected come sweeping in and lift you off your feet? Did life show you that the last person you would imagine as your future is actually more suited for you than any other?

I just don't know! It frustrates me when I get that answer. How do things just happen? There has got to be some power greater than ourselves out there that brings two people together- especially the most unexpected people. We can't exactly plan for it to happen but when the unexpected comes knocking at your door, be prepared, for life as you know it is about to change.

Whether it is for the good or bad is questionable but life can't stay stagnant. It needs to be in motion, ever changing. We live in a state of becoming and never simply being – though that is a topic best left for another day.

Though I have just been rambling on endlessly for the past few minutes I think it is quite clear that we have to be prepared for the unexpected (a paradox all on its own). Whether it is a finger up the other hole while lying in the lithotomy position or finding yourself being a stay home mom when all your life you wanted to be a dancer. The unexpected should be taken with a pinch of salt and if that isn’t good enough… perhaps some tequila and lime might help too. 

Tuesday 16 July 2013

The Beast

Today was a sad day.

As I delved into the darkness and insecurities that dwelled inside of me, I realised that the beast inside was far more fearsome than any beast or monster I may face with out.

Equipped with sword or firearm, I could overcome anything placed in my path with ease. However, it is without weapons that I must face this beast.

It feeds off my insecurities, which brings me to another point – why am I insecure? Why should I fear that which I do not know or feel threatened by those who have become but matters of the past? What I don't know scares me far more than anything I do. What makes it worse is the fear that much will come to pass but will remain hidden from view. When it does rear its ugly head, as it eventually will, the insecurities harboured deep within will come rushing out to feed the beast already growing stronger.

In order to be prepared for this eventuality, I need to understand the beast, to study its strengths and weaknesses and understand how I can overcome it should the need arise. This beast however has eluded my scrutiny, burrowing into the darkest recesses of my soul till all that I can feel of its presence is the sonorous boom of its heartbeat echoing within. I shudder as I realise how strong its heart is.

It has grown since last I fought it, tooth and nail. I thought I had destroyed it in my younger days. Foolhardy and arrogant I decided to face down the demon with all the strength of ignorance. Back then, it took the form of death and heartbreak and though the battle was long and bloody, I came out victorious. The victory was barely one to boast about for I spent far too long licking the wounds to enjoy the bounties.

Years later, I now sit with a similar problem but am far wiser.  I know not to attack the beast without a strategy and the best strategy is to cut off its supplies. To weaken the creature would mean to weaken its defences making it far easier to deal a deadly strike. In order to accomplish this I must overcome my insecurities, but how can I do that so easily? When everything in my life is so uncertain and hangs on a thread which can only hold out for 5 more months, how do I quell the fear?

I don't know how to deal with the fear without a move from the other side. My insecurities are fuelled by the uncertainties of others. Should one person chose to step up, stake a claim and remove my fears, the beast would be so weakened that it would be inhumane to kill it.

So I must wait. I must hang precariously above the maw of the ravenous beast as I lay my fate in the hands of one who is so uncertain that I might end up devoured.

Monday 15 July 2013

Do unto others

During my winter vacation I found myself questioning my mere existence and that of my role in the community and fostering Ubuntu. Yes, I know you must be wondering, “Wow! Is this what people think about during their holidays? Such profound musings!” However, I was actually at a youth development camp when this occurred.

Sitting in the front of a talk entitled “Ubuntu, Suhba & its relevance to a 21st century minority Muslim community” the speaker, Rashaad Amra, asked a very interesting question. He described his journey to the venue and commented on his consumption of a cup of coffee that was probably manufactured through the existing slave trade in Africa. He proceeded to ask us the question “Why should you care?” For what reason should we care for the emaciated African child who is captured, locked up and worked to death to create the coffee that we consume?

I remember sitting in silence, totally confounded by this question. Sure there are tons of adequate and “respectable” replies that one could give to this question but the moment he opened the floor to suggestions I found myself hitting a blank wall. Why should I care? Of course I care if someone is being tortured on a regular basis to create something for us to eat or wear but what is the reason as to why I care?

All my life I lived with the notion that we should do unto others what we would do unto ourselves. I always believed that this was a very good way to live one’s life and that it was both mutually beneficial and actually did a great deal of good. As I read these statements I realise how hollow those sentiments actually are. Nevertheless, in my ignorance I raised my hand and shared the idea. To my utter horror I was told that of course if I choose to live my life that way it is fine, but how selfish is that statement. My features contorted into absolute despair and seeing the look on my face he proceeded to explain why he called me selfish.

Essentially what that statement says is that we want to be treated in a specific way and because we want that level of treatment we will treat others as such in order to obtain it. Basically, all we are thinking about is ourselves. I am sure as you read this you are probably thinking how obvious that is and how silly I must have ever been to believe otherwise but I have truly and honestly lived my life with the ardent belief that this was a fair enough way to live my life. I believed I was doing good to others and that this reasoning was sound and sure.

With everything I believed flipped upside down and inside out, I sat crestfallen as I began to re-evaluate my mere reason for being. I've always been the kind of person who would answer “end world hunger” when asked what I would like to do with my life. I don’t care much for the prestige and money that accompanies my degree but rather the level of help and change I can achieve with it. My primary reason for existence, I believe, is to make a difference in as many lives as possible but without a reason for wanting to do it, what is my motivation and drive?

The way we treat those around us as well as the way we treat those we don’t know through the things we indulge in and contribute toward, determines the state in which we will leave this world. Will we leave it having done something meaningful? It isn’t about getting your name out there and getting people to recognise you but rather about making a recognisable change in the lives of others without other people knowing. For truly the best deeds are those done in darkness.

Our reason for wanting to do good, for wanting to help others, should not be for the betterment of ourselves but for the betterment of others. Many of us are blessed with wealth and fortune whereas an even greater amount of us are not. The reasoning is simple. Will we use the tools we have gained to make the lives of others better simply because we can? How do we live with ourselves, on our high horses, when so many skulls are crushed beneath the hooves?

Being forced to re-evaluate your existence is actually a very eye-opening experience and one I hope to further share with the minority of people who frequent this blog. While I still search for the absolute reason as to why I should strive for the attainment of Ubuntu, I will always look back at this experience and be thankful. Had I not been questioned I would never have realised the selfish ideals I had made the foundation of my existence.

Sunday 14 July 2013

Ramadhaan in a Farm (A Memoir)

This year marks the first year I have spent Ramadhaan (the holy month of fasting) on my own. No mother to look after me, no sweet boarding lady to cook my meals and wake me up before dawn to eat. I am on my own and I can’t help but look back at the moments in the past that are no longer realities but memories to return to in moments of nostalgia.

When reading the title of this post I’m almost 100% sure your mind will conjure up pictures of cows being milked, hens pecking and scratching around in a coop and perhaps a goat or sheep or two roaming around in the pastures. While that adequately sums up the idea of a farm, that isn’t quite the image I was going for. Sure you find cows patiently awaiting their turn to cross the roads as well as see the occasional goat race up the mountain-side; Ladysmith is by no means a farm. Many a city rat will scorn at the idea of Ladysmith even being classified as a town. Hence, I refer to it as a farm, as many an ignorant city lover would.

My earliest memories of this time of the year is of my little brother sneaking steak pies into the pantry of the kitchen and eating them in secret all the while pretending to be abstaining from food. He would walk out with crumbs down his top and continue to insist upon the authenticity of his fast to the utter horror of my parents. Every year without fail we all look back at this moment and laugh as he remains adamant in his belief of my parents’ ignorance with regard to his actions.

Sehri time saw my father lining up 5 bowls as he painstakingly made Pronutro for each of his 5 daughters to their exact specifications as my brothers still struggled to get out of their blankets. The funniest days would see my father running down the hallway in a panic exclaiming we only have 5 minutes to eat and so we would find ourselves eating whatever we could find in our haste to fill our empty stomachs. With one bathroom shared amongst 8 siblings the struggle for the chance to brush your teeth before praying always saw the person who gobbled down their food fast enough as the winner. If you were lucky, someone would have woken up on the right side of the bed (which was almost never) and offered you the chance to share the sink.

I remember waking up on weekends with the house filled with the sounds of the pots clattering, utensils falling around the kitchen and on the oft occasion, the sound of glass breaking accompanied by my mother’s muffled halaal version of the curse “shit”. Waking up to the smell of chicken or mince filling sizzling on the stove was pure agony for the grumbling abdomen and worse was when mum lined us all up to help her prepare. The food so tempting yet time said no to even a taste. Each of us had a duty: one to fill the pies, one to seal, one to dip in egg, one to roll in breadcrumbs and one to fry. Till today I puzzle at how this can be achieved without five daughters as unpaid labour. Many times we would sit in our room conspiring as to how we would get out of helping mummy to no avail- she was always one step ahead.

Iftaar time, of course, is my favourite time in Ramadhaan. In Ladysmith, the experience is of a different kind. All the men who attend mosque carry food from their homes and a bring-and-share iftaar is the order of everyday. As most every second person in town is a tea addict, every day someone is tasked with bringing two huge pots of brewed tea to the musjid. Up until last year it was the job of my late cousin to carry the pots to the musjid. My father and brothers were tasked with delivering the fried chips. I remember the smell as it wafted into the house on the days they were running late. The constant rush to find containers to carry their samosas and pies was a constant source of amusement. With so many children, and an equally large number of containers, it was no surprise that many found themselves lidless by this time of year resulting in new containers being purchased every year.

The calm that followed the breaking of the fast at sunset is incomparable. Sitting out in the driveway waiting for the Azaan was my favourite part of the day. The moment when the entire world held its breath and the sun slowly began its descent behind the hills and the collective sigh that followed as the call of “Allahu Akbar” spread through the town, still leaves me breathless.

The pure tranquillity of this month has only grown. Though this year I spend this time without the bustle, only preparing food for two and generally spending my late nights without the sweet dessert of my mother’s, the peace and overall beauty of this month will not be lost.

Although I no longer have the sound of the Azaan to fill my heart with joy, I have found a new way to find happiness. I have spent the last two mornings walking along the beach and have been blessed with the chance to see the sun rise. Truly, with this month being the peak of all blessings I found myself taken aback by the sheer beauty I chanced upon two mornings ago. Perhaps this picture could sum up the peace and harmony that strums through my heart at the onset of this month and perhaps you too may have the chance to revel in the beauty of it.