Tag: me

  • seinedoll replied to your post: Personal Reflections

    Cheer up please! Everything is in your head.

    🙂 thanks…it is mostly in my head…except for the weight gain! That’s definitely not in my head! I decided tonight that I’ll write the story of me…if not for any reason other than the hope that it will lighten the burden of the realities that I hold inside that have yet to be shared with anyone around me. 

    Time will tell…the ghosts of lifetimes past never quite leave. They just saunter around in the shadows waiting for a moment of weakness or a lull in your spirits, before they surge straight through you, leaving you bewildered, without any trace of their presence, except the hints of remorse, regret, hope and most often, disbelief. Disbelief at how sincere naivety could be ridiculed as stupidity because I lacked the faculties to be suspicious. Bah!

    The greatest challenge has never been about moving forward. That’s easy. The difficulty lies in trusting that others will receive your efforts positively so that you can realise those goals that will provide the much needed comfort and companionship. But when most are inclined to judge without knowledge, the most noble of endeavours, or even the greatest of achievements fade into a heap of social worthlessness that threatens to disembowel you had it not been for the fact that such social appraisals are inconsequential to your sanity. 

    But sanity isn’t much to celebrate at times when it’s not able to be shared. And this is turning out to be far too morbid, so it’s time for me to shut it. 🙂

  • Personal Reflections

    I’ve realised recently that I’ve been distracted. These distractions have worn me down to a point of almost total lethargy and painful effort to do almost anything constructive. I’ve succumbed to the same self-defeating tendencies that I’ve always encouraged others to simply snap out of. Worse still is that I realise that this is what I’m doing, yet I lack any significant motivation to change it.

    I’ve put on weight to the point where my clothes are uncomfortable and my body aches from the awkwardness of being out of proportion. Compensating for the shift in my centre of gravity is causing my back to ache leaving me feeling as if I should be preparing for old age. Death has been a constant thread in my thought patterns, but not morbidly so. Just the realisation of how much will continue regardless of my absence, and who would be left abandoned in some way or another as a result of my untimely departure. 

    None of this is outwardly visible of course, with the exception of the obvious weight gain. The headaches are more frequent, the joints almost groan involuntarily and my fingers ache. They actually ache as if they’re under constant strain or as if I’ve jammed them into a door. All of these aches and pain remind me that I’m suppressing my true nature because I’ve grown too weary and jaded to venture into another battlefield not knowing how I’ll fare. 

    I’ve been seriously contemplating writing that novel, or at least starting with a short story titled The Story of Me. The more I think of it the more I realise how much there is to write about. There isn’t time to finish these thoughts. There’s rarely time to finish anything these days. But somehow I’ve managed to hold it all together and be productive at the same time. But very little of it has been a true joy. Although I refuse to make it feel like a total burden either. 

    I recently planned a weekend away to one of the most beautiful parts of the country, but cancelled at the last minute because I didn’t have the energy to make the 5 hour drive to get there. This from a man that used to drive 16 hours straight with only fuel stops and accompanied by nothing but his own thoughts and a simple appreciation for the beautiful landscapes on the journey. 

    I’ve grown old without realising it. I feel like I’m 90, battle fatigued, and waiting for peace. 

  • Me

  • A Brain Dump…

    The ebb and flow of life is often a distraction. I’m simple at heart, and therefore desire constancy. But the only constancy that is offered is the unpredictability of me. In the absence of knowing what awaits me at the next turn, I’ve tried to maintain my own disposition on an even keel. But I’m so easily distracted that I betray this composure within moments of achieving it.

    Overtly I deny the need for affirmation, but internally I find ways to seek it out whilst appearing to be independent and aloof. I shy away from open praise but take joy from seeing wilful engagement that is unsolicited from others. I choose to see that as a reflection of my significance in the eyes of others, even though most only engage for the novelty value rather than a deeply ingrained sense of appreciation or gratitude. 

    My intensely introspective approach to life has made me somewhat of a novelty to the point where I don’t expect any sincere interaction, relationship or even friendship to extend beyond a few months. It generally takes a few months for someone to solicit all the insight they desire about themselves from me before it becomes a tedious exercise. Then, they either drift away from boredom, or they actively resist the revealing interactions because they begin to realise how vulnerable they are in front of me. 

    I’m a novelty on a shelf in a china shop. The shelf way up on top that is out of reach because I’m deemed too fragile for most to know how to handle me, but I provide an interesting, if not simply curious reflection of the one that beholds me. So occasionally there will be a brave adventurous soul, often troubled and seeking answers about themselves, catching the reflections that I cast, that reach out to take a closer look. But while I’m enjoying them looking at me, they’re in fact looking at themselves within me. 

  • Burning out

    I seem to have lost any inclination to want to share my thoughts and instead have been preoccupied with sharing photos recently. I even changed my theme to place more emphasis on the pictures, but I know the new theme probably won’t last. My constant search for a theme that reflects what I want to present my digital world as is a reflection of the changing moods I go through constantly in my efforts to find my sweet spot in life.

    It still eludes me. Very little is comforting, and I choke on my food far too often. Yet another indication of my impatience with life. I’m constantly agitated as if I need to be somewhere else doing something else even though the present moment is not always unpleasant. I’m afraid of getting settled in this single life that I’ve established for me. Only me. No one else plays in this space. Just me. But it seems like me is not enough so far, but I’m resisting the temptation to seek a companion because of this dis-ease that I feel. 

    I need to slow my thoughts down to a sprint. Right now they’re racing ahead at blistering speeds that rarely allows any of them to be fully formed before being replaced with another thought, not always from the same train either. Perhaps my focus on photography will encourage such a slowing of my pace. Maybe I’ll pause for long enough to absorb what beauty abounds, instead of always analysing, critiquing, and interpreting. I need to slow down. I’m burning out. 

  • We’re Strange

    There are no guarantees in death, except the end of life. So don’t plan on achieving peace, comfort, closure or anything else, because none of it is a given. However, life holds certainty, even though we don’t always interpret its certainty correctly. But the natural order that is established, and the laws of cause and effect that apply, will always apply, every single time. And the only thing we can control in all of this is how we respond to what we encounter along the way. 

    We can’t cause anyone else to act a certain way or feel a certain feeling any more than we are able to influence them. And we can’t influence them unless they deem us significant in the context of their lives. But just like how we apportion such significance to those that we choose or want to be significant in our lives, the same applies in reverse, but yet we fail to realise this simple truth, which is why we constantly strive to acquire the heart of some that may only have a fleeting affection for us, but in fact holds us as insignificant in the bigger scheme of their lives. 

    We erroneously believe that we get what we deserve. We don’t. We never will. This world is created for respite, not justice. It is created as an opportunity for us to perfect our own humanity, not to impose our sense of humanity onto others. We may polarise towards like-minded beings and in that be further deluded into believing that what we’re surrounded with is in fact a reflection of the world that is beyond our reach. It’s not. Our world is what we make of it. Our perceptions and expectations are products of our fears and aspirations, rarely with a healthy dose of reality. 

    We’re too afraid to be alone, that’s why we recoil at the thought of being different. Even in our differences we seek affirmation. Even when we don’t expect acceptance or adoption, we need to be acknowledged to be of some value in our being different. But when that is withheld, we assume that we’re defective and therefore inconsequential and insignificant, when in fact we quite possibly may have achieved what we’ve been striving for and dreaming about all our lives. We’re unique. But we only want to be unique if we’re unique like everyone else. 

    And then we die, hardly having lived at all, but affirmed in our mediocrity, and celebrated in our conformance, but rarely appreciated for our individuality. But we lack an appreciation of our self, and are still surprised at not being appreciated by others. We’re a strange bunch, aren’t we?

  • Me

    I’m at odds with life. I’m the most responsible person you’ll probably ever meet, but also the most child-like at heart, but I’m not a child. I’ve resisted every effort by others to force me into a box so that I would be easier for them to deal with, but I’m not a rebel. Especially not one without a cause. But I am rebellious. 

    I resist meeting the expectations of others for the sake of conformance or maintaining some balance in the predictability of society. But I also play my role to ensure a social balance. I don’t see rules and limits, only principles and reason. And despite the amount of life in my years, I’m still grappling with how little I know of myself.

    And then I look without, after focusing within for too long, and I notice how most others are oblivious to these truths about themselves. So I wonder if it’s reasonable to expect them to notice these truths about me? I want to be known, intimately, but most never look close enough to notice enough to know enough to appreciate me the way I would them. But that is the trigger for the vicious cycle that spares me any meaningful connection with others, because in realising this, I withdraw, withhold, and wither.

    It’s not that I haven’t tried. No. In fact, I have tried often enough to have rightfully earned the label of being naively daft! But my child-like naivety prompts my obstinacy to resist any efforts to make me behave boringly. Predictably. So in my resistance, I’ve nurtured my passion that waits patiently to love ferociously a worthy subject, but instead I’ve only secured my isolation. 

    P.S. Just noticed that this was my 500th post. 🙂

  • My blog isn’t a true reflection of who I am. It only reflects some light on the darkness that lurks within me. It reflects my struggles for purpose and understanding. It reflects hints of my passion. It reflects suggestions of who I am and who I yearn to be. But it is not entirely me.