Tag: fuckit

  • One of my greatest challenges in life has been to deal with loneliness and disappointment in a dignified manner. The urge to want to throw caution to the wind, be reckless and try to demand significance through uncharacteristic behaviour has always nagged me, but my deeply ingrained sense of restraint and control never allows it to happen. 

    I’m always terrified of acting in a way that will earn me ridicule. My sense of composure and my overall calm disposition belies the turmoil that stirs beneath the surface. I rarely lose my temper, and even when I do, it’s a decisive moment of sharp remarks intended to inflict maximum damage before I withdraw again and resume my normal demeanour. And often, when I’m tempted to let go and just express myself unreservedly, I quickly realise that my insignificance will make any tantrum laughable, and will probably not yield the results I hope for. And so I continue being measured and restrained enjoying nothing more than sharp wit and vicious sarcasm, often in a light hearted tone with people that rarely get the true undertones of the venom that I usually spit. 

    This has been a self indulgent post of hardly any truth at all. 

  • Poetry to scare the dead

    I should write more poetry of my own,

    But I’m too lazy.

    Reading the amazing talent of others I follow,

    Only further berates me.

    I think in rhyme, at times,

    But rarely is it wrote.

    This loneliness of mine,

    Ensures that hardly a word is spoke.

    Except to myself in the solace of night,

    Solace? What solace? Yeah right!

    I’d best quit,

    While I’m still ahead.

    Lest I write so poorly,

    That I’d stir the dead.

    So I lay me down, 

    In my empty bed.

    Reminded clearly why,

    My lover has fled.

  • New Year, Same Life

    Tomorrow is just another Sunday that follows a Saturday, the same way it has since the day I was born. And I believe it’s been happening for a long time before that as well. Whether I call it the 1st of January, or the 29th of February, it will still be the day that follows Saturday and precedes Monday…like it has all my life.

    The jaded one in me finds it difficult to attach any significance to this, the same way I find it difficult to attach any significance to a birthday. And it seems the pragmatist in me agrees. We start dying the moment we take our first breath, and we start living the moment we realise that we’re dying. And in between, we take it all for granted and feel like martyrs or victims the moment we’re faced with a challenge.

    New Year’s day is up there with Valentine’s Day, Father’s Day, Mother’s Day, and every other stupid capitalistic bullshit event that was ever coined to give us a false sense of comfort that we’re celebrating life through these events when in fact we’re simply celebrating events and forget that life is being neglected in between, because we’re conditioned to limit our celebrations only to those days deemed worthy of celebration, and we take for granted the rest of the moments that occur at times that have not been deemed significant by the great ones. 

    Fuck occasions. Celebrate life. It’s a whole lot more rewarding, and cheaper!

  • The dearth of expectations

    Disappointment is a dampener, a wet blanket, a downer and a doos*. It’s a taunting reminder that despite our best efforts, we live with expectations and not hope. Living selflessly, or at least as selflessly as your ego would allow, is limited only by the lack of reciprocation from those for whom we sacrifice. 

    But those sacrifices are not always overt. Sometimes it’s as subtle as restraining yourself from doing or objecting to something you would otherwise not allow to persist. … this is starting to sound like superfluous bullshit.

    It’s actually simply this. I once again invested in the coaching and mentoring of an individual that assumed the position of entitlement and in a single sentence was able to dismiss every ounce of personal extension that I afforded her in my efforts to encourage her to be more than she thought she was capable of. 

    But the real joke in all this is that I expected anything more!

    *doos – pronounced ‘dwerse’, which is South African slang of Afrikaans origin that refers to the female genitalia in a derogatory manner

  • distinctly depressing is scrolling through my tumblr dash waiting for something to inspire me but nothing does so i feel worse than i did before i started because now not only is it depressing not finding something inspiring but its also depressing that im unable to be inspired and all i feel like doing is screaming but all that comes out is a yelp because ive used tumblr to express myself for so long on so much of the most important things so often that i forgot how to express myself verbally because everything was either a like a reblog or a passionate post that was largely ignored while looking at my dash and seeing some lame pic of tall grass that is out of focus and poorly lit with no focal point getting 1000 notes while my brilliant piece of prose about something so intimately fascinating just went unnoticed leaving me uninspired and feeling neglected and wondering about wandering or maybe even deleting and leaving…but im addicted…hopelessly addicted…fuck.

  • I Regress…

    Today

    this morning

    I regressed…

    I missed the callous one

    the one that taught me about betrayal and cowardice

    about hypocrisy and pain

    about futility

    The pain of her Cesarean act

    threatened to disembowel me once again

    The void returned

    and the hope and optimism receded out of fear

    today

    this morning

    I yearned for love

    but I’m left only with hate

    and a tainted view of a life in limbo

    embellished with rose-coloured recollections

    of a life almost lived.

  • And for everyone that read my last post and now has Bohemian Rhapsody looping in their heads, I’m sorry…it’s driving me insane too… 🙁

    mamaaaa, i just killed a man…

    put a gun against his head,

    pulled the trigger now he’s dead

    mamaaaa, life has just begun,

    and now I’ve gone and thrown it allllll awaaaayyyy,

    mamaaaaaaaa, ooooo hooooo hooooo

    I just wanna die….

    sometimes I wish I hadn’t been born at allllll

    carry on, carry on….nothing really matters….

  • (Source: http://www.flickr.com/photos/julianomiddlenameevans/4812395403/)