I wrote this while I was listening to Adele’s ‘I Can’t Make You Love Me‘ but I feel that it read in the rhythm of her version of ‘Make You Feel My Love‘.
The night I’ve been cloaked under has lasted so long. The seasons come and go before my eyes, like watching the world go around from my bedroom window. I’ve driven people away yet I need them close. I … I am a tangled mess, like old hair stuck in the bristles of a brush.
A snowflake tentatively approaches me, as if knowing that I’m too hot to touch but still wants to feel the burn. That impulsive snowflake melts before landing on my face. I’m too hot even for me to bear.
And when the cool fall breeze breathes along my body, it chafes at my skin.
Who will love me when the morning nears? After the witnessed darkness of my nights? Who will love me with the sun decides to shine, illuminating the drying trail of tears? Your beautiful face comes to me shining in the pale moonlight.
Do you think I have anything left to give? Does that molten emotion still flow in the husk of me? It’s a question you’ll have to be brave enough to seek. But I’d swear it to you, your memory is what’s been keeping me alive. Come closer and let me gather you near. Come a little bit closer like you used to do. How else can I make you feel my love?
WARNING: Serious stuffs below.
via Pinterest, click to see more.
I’ll never claim to have an organized mind so it may come as no surprise that I still can’t sort out what to scratch about next. I find that it helps to amble aimlessly until I scan on some interesting bit as I breeze by the internal mental landscape of my head. Here goes.
Being young and having the means at the ready to be almost anything you want to be is, at it’s core, a depressing state. Oh, why I’m fortunate but even then life isn’t a field of daisies. It’s almost another year and I’m not at the least anxious in awaiting my A Levels results, it can’t be good. What do I want to be when I grow up? Am I grown up? Age is no definite marker in maturity but I believe I’m almost there. I’m good with my hands. I’m my family’s masseuse and I’m constantly being told by a few members and some friends that I would do very well professionally.
I wouldn’t mind giving it a shot but certain persons don’t think it suitable for me. I have to play to my strengths and consider advice as it comes my way. I’m beginning to even bore myself here with all this dreary talk of my future, but it is what it is. I want to have a little book shop on the side whilst teaching English, eventually as a foreign language. I want to have a tight group of friends who’ll love the person I am despite my earthen scale of faults. Perhaps I watch Friends too much.
Sometimes there’s a reason for everything
Sometimes there’s no reason at all
But above all else, I beg you to remember
Pick yourself up after every fall
Don’t let despair
Catch you in thrall
- 2013 Devina S.
* A Japanese proverb.
This lovely piece was found via Pinterest. I know what it looks like, but let’s not.
Just now Katty Kay announced on the television that in Damascus the four children and the school bus driver, casualties in a clash between rebel forces and the Syrian army, were laid to rest today. I felt my throat constrict and dilate in tiny painful spasms. It was only a matter of seconds that I would feel my tears. My heart was trembling at yet another loss of life. I mean of course it happens every minute somewhere, death, but to be ripped off of this earth so violently … it’s horrifying to me on the other side of the screen, another world away. I walked in to my room, knelt and prayed.
I think that after a while of watching the news that one can become desensitized to the brutality of war, but that’s not true. I can’t speak for anyone else but for me to a point I can ignore it. What has it to do with me? Oh how it would have been easier if I were more selfish but I’m not that heartless, I hope I’m not. Every news update, every breaking news builds up like bits and pieces of rubble into a heap just waiting for the last speck to tip the whole thing over my head.
Then there’s this typhoon that ravaged the Philippines. We all knew what it looks like over there – no, no not really we’ve only snatched a glimpse. No five minute video footage could ever voice the trauma and hopelessness of a people who’ve had everything that’s mattered snatched from them, and no one person or persons to blame but the temperamental elements. I’m not going to further expound, I don’t have the right to.
Via Pinterest, click to see
This morning I hadn’t much sleep, but unlike most this was with good reason. My grandma wasn’t feeling well and I got up to test her sugar and pressure a couple times. She took her pills. I worry about her. I followed her to the washroom least she falls and hit herself again. She insisted on going with my father to the city, ordering my mother and I not to tell him anything. I usually do tell him, but I suspect if I did today she’d end up getting mad at me and stressing her tired heart even more. I love my grandma dearly.
I’m always told that I’m her favourite, and I always smile because I could see that I was. For the most part of my eighteen years I slept by her side and as each year sprints away I wonder how much longer do we have with her. Well, her and my granda. I wouldn’t handle it well at all should something happen to them, and I hate to say this to sound biased, especially her. That woman is the most hard working person, next to my dad, who I had the honor to know, I would cry if I were to recount what the both of them have been through. My parents will be around for a while yet but I hope to God that I get to squeeze as much time with them.
I set my phone to wake her up a 2:30 AM. I got up again at five, opened my favourite window and cloud gazed. Mornings are for … I forgot this already, let me try … Mornings are for positive thoughts and good energy. Think about it; they aren’t there just to look pretty (if the weather feels fine), it has a purpose and if you look hard enough and far enough you’ll see it.
A sky of a brighter day.
© Devina S.
It was almost 6:30 PM, the heavens were bursting at the seams. A river had rained over my head. The thunder crashed some where in the dark blue velvet of the Caribbean sky in short bursts like a child throwing a tantrum. The lightening flashed a chastising glance at the thunder’s unruly rampage, zig zagging across the sky like a thousand snaking veins, pulsing with lethal energy.
And I sit here typing and thinking of how ridiculous Miley Cyrus’ hair is. Really. I will talk no more on that subject because I have more important things to worry over, like how many licks does it take to get to the centre of a lollypop. The people at Cambridge actually found out (as I’ve heard on twitter) but I can’t remember how much. I always end up chewing off the thing before I even get close to the centre. I will never know. NeVeR!
The title of the post might have told you that I’ll go crazy and you’re waiting to to see how I’ll get myself shipped of to the loony bin. That was my intent but sanity reclaimed the reins. Bummer, I know.
Image via community321.com
There are times in our lives when despair over powers positive outlook and it feels as if we’ve plunged head first into its dark frigid waters. I am sinking beneath its murky depths and carried away by its ruthless current. My lungs are screaming from the lack of hope. I slowly turn to the darkness and pull the shadows like a cloak closer around me, finding a dark sort of comfort, and let stars fall from my eyes.
My salty tears surround me like a mist of my disappointment, of me not being strong enough, clever enough and focused enough to be the best that can be and make the ones I love proud of me. To ease their pains and sorrows. Sinking deeper down willingly in the dark abyss of despair, my burning eyes snatch glimpses of the weak dreamy glow of the light from the restless surface.
My mind latched onto it as if a life preserver. I realize, that even in the merciless darkness, light will always be present, no matter what. I reach, my fingers groping for the light … the cloak pulls me deeper yet, but I begin to resist. I must, but can I do it? How do I fight this overwhelming sense of despair? Oh! But I must. I can. And with everything I’ve got, I shall!
Can’t lose hope, lose faith in myself. Not yet, not ever. Despite those struggling thoughts, I’m still plagued with doubt, but that’s the wicked darkness speaking, its raspy voice whispering in my ear. I mustn’t let it get to me. So the battle begins.
I will be victorious.
I know this is rather depressing, but it is what it is. I write this and share it with you because it’s much easier than saying it out loud to someone I know for I don’t want to burden them with the knowledge of the conflicting emotions waging war within me, and make things worse. Blogging has become an outlet for releasing the words jumbled up in my head and I am very grateful to you guys for coming by and sharing your thoughts with me :)
It has been a while since I’ve written a WoTD post, but I’m going to try to keep at it from now on. The first I think I’ve heard of the word ‘chimera’ was in a Harry Potter book, many of us know it as a mythical creature but I wasn’t aware of its second meaning.
- (in Greek mythology) a female monster with a lion’s head, a goat’s body and a snake’s tail.
- an unrealistic hope or dream.
Source: Compact Oxford Dictionary & Thesaurus