Where have I been...oh yeah, I remember, living my non-existent life.
...but...
It’s time to get off my arse and make this the year, I’ve been telling myself it’s going to be forever. The year to set some plans in motion. To take the leap and try something new and exciting, and nerve wrecking, all at the same time.
Here comes the fresh starts, new journeys and mainly, time to let the crazy things go.
When I find myself in this weird little angry bubble, I always throw my hands in the air and declare I am off to do something new, and somehow find a way to improve my life. Then I annoyingly calm down and all the passion and motivation, just leaves my body in a puff of black smoke.
That like, totally, needs to fucking stop!
A wise soul once told me to write it, sing it, scream it. I just need to get it out of my system; but to also try and remember the good times too.
For some reason I can do the pain, the sadness. I've got the depression down.
Why should it take me to be in a dark place, to bring my life into perspective? I mean I never follow through; I am huge wimp. This of course is the fucking problem.
I have some fantastic ideas. I am pretty damn creative if I put my mind to it. I just need to have the guts to do it, and not sit around like the procrastinating little bean I am.
I miss writing. I mean really miss it. It gave me a sense of purpose, something to do with my life, other than sit around and complain about it. I know I am not outstandingly good at it. I can hear every editor and past teacher screaming at me to get my grammar and punctuation in check. To stop stringing my sentences in this long-drawn-out way, which does nothing but agitate the reader; but screw them! This is me…
Once upon a time my voice was stolen; overtime I learnt to take it back. I was thankful for the little cracks in my armour, I was able to paint them gold and show the world that I was a fucking fighter.
I have been pushed, pulled, threatened. Yet I grounded myself and let the waves of total fucking shit, wash over me. I reached for the surface, took that breath of air, coming up bigger and stronger than I ever was before. I won a war I was never meant to be in. I am thankful that I have learnt how small the world, and the people in it could be.
I know I'm damaged too, but I'm proud of not living a lie. I am okay with who and what I am, what I want to be; of seeing things for what they are. Sometimes pain is needed to grow. I now enjoy the rollercoaster of life; the power it gives me.
If you sit back and wait long enough, you will get to see people suffer the same fate they leave on others. You'll see the strong stand up and go; no, I am not taking this shit anymore. Here's a taste of your own fucking medicine. When this happens, you can join me with a bucket of popcorn and together we can watch the world burn, maybe we can even add some fuel to the fire.
No one is a shining example of perfection. That unique that fits into an overused category of “original”
So just go ahead and do whatever the hell you want. We are forever worrying about fitting into that norm category of life. Just listen to what you want to, watch and do what you want to do. Who fucking cares anymore? We have survived plagues and apparently the world is ending.
So, insert the overused phrase of "life is too fucking short"
Let people say what they want about you...because here is a little hurtful truth, no matter what you do. You will be talked about and judged. Deep down we are all a bunch of hypocrites; when we say we would never do to them, what has been done to us.
We all have a judgemental nose turn to give, a slide comment to make. We will all take the opportunity for revenge when it comes down to it. Some might feel guilt, some might feel relief. Some might not give a shit either way.
So why not live the life we want and let the world crack on.
Be kind, but do not take crap from anyone.
Remember communication is key.
And don’t let anyone hold you back.
You've got this!