“… You can’t see a person more nakedly than that, when they don’t know they’re being watched, studied.”― Jo Nesbø, Blood on Snow When the going gets tough, I think of the bus. It was a typical day at school, quite the balanced mixture of embarrassment, awkwardness and laughs. We walk to the bus stop where the […]
“Of course I’ll hurt you. Of course you’ll hurt me. Of course we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring, means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence.” ― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Manon, Ballerina
One day in, one day out Erecting lives on fragile foundations, Put one stone out of place And the whole reality comes tumbling down.
To and fro, we move Trailed by the ghost of illusions blue. As the earth shifts beneath our feet, We trudge through avenues once shut.
Knowing the sky Is just a lifetime away, We soar through tunnels and alleys, Forcing time and seasons out of our paths.
As life and death pass us by, Our core remains unharmed and untouched At the end of the day, all that’s seen are reflections- Of saplings braving the scorching sun.
“Monsters exist, but they are too few in number to be truly dangerous. More dangerous are the common men, the functionaries ready to believe and to act without asking questions.” ― Primo Levi
From December 2021 to May of next year, the months are specked with exams albeit, with breaks in between but it might be a few months before I can get back online. However, I’ll try to pop back in every now and then, especially for Christmas! The posts for October, November and December have been scheduled beforehand.
As always, I appreciate your constant support and look forward to reading your posts as soon as I get back!
It looks crusty from my vantage point, with partially undone, paint flakes flapping and swaying, holding onto their last link to the wall; clinging on for dear life.
If I write a book, it would have a thick spine and leather bound body, with lots of knots and memories caught up in its strings. Its chapters would be long and slow with accompanying water colour illustrations that simply seem to exude vision and beauty as powerfully as possible. The brush strokes would be visible so that you could imagine how the illustrations came into being and maybe try it yourself.
To me, hope is a sort of thrust, a variant of faith, a gentle flame – that encourages you to keep going even when, the possibilities of actually succeeding seems bleak. Now as far as fraudulence goes, hope can be a fraud at times but that doesn’t necessarily make it a fraud for everyone. Hope can end up, conveying visions of unrealistic success and it can all feel like a big lie, when reality comes crashing down.
What am I living for and what am I dying for are the same question.― Margaret Atwood, The Year of the Flood In search for my purposeDid I set out –On an infinite path choked with uncertainty. Many a question did I meetBut crippled was I left,With answers that birthed more questions. Days, I spent counting wordsAnd […]
If you are feeling low, or trampled, unappreciated, or forgotten…and you are reading this, realize it is an illusion…the hope is real…you are valued…and what lies ahead…is brilliance. ― Tom Althouse
For Pip, Thrush and Blue, This I say, “To and fro, we moved Through the clouds of hymns we hummed, As the world progressed, Our longing for freedom grew ever stronger.”
I remember days where we vanquished imaginary foes, where Pip once sacrificed his life to save the rest of us from an army of rather savage goblins. Sir Pip was our leader, advisor and messenger. He knew all the shortcuts, how to get to the adults when we didn’t and very often, managed in acquiring free chocolate from no one knows where.
Memories of riding our bikes downhill but being too exhausted to walk uphill come flooding as I traverse the paths that were once volcanoes and rainforests to us.
Nights, when Thrush would sing to us still soothe me on nights lightning, electrifies the earth. It’s one of those memories that are triggered by just one word, one stare, one leaf.
I see Thrush prancing and flying, always beating us at most games but being too good-natured about it, that we would end up sacrificing victory for a song.
I remember the day her brother died and it was we, who sang her to sleep. She never slept that night.
For Pip, Thrush and Blue In life, did we live With cares so free and hardly there Days spent in childish glee Ended in time, we wrinkled for love.
Blue, if joy ever had a sad day, it would look like you. You exuded so much joy that it was contagious and we’d find ourselves laughing the most random things ever – mailboxes, candy wrappers and paintings; because they felt like you – because they felt Blue to us.
We never knew you were hurting or that your smiles were so infectious and jokes designed to laugh so that none of us would feel the pain you battled everyday or hear those loud and terrifying thoughts that had screamed themselves sore. I remember how the heroes in all your stories were dreamers changing worlds they created because the real world was too harsh.
As I rise above the bench down the street and reminisce my faults, I see what I missed all along – the beauty of loss. Every day we came together was perfect. The sun shone gaily, the wind blew kindly and the grass beneath our feet remained fresh and green.
Pip would go around securing our boundaries, Thrush would sing to the birds for whom she was named, while Blue would make sure there were no flowers that were withering.
I was up there, all along watching and wishing, I could be a part of this gang, so gay they brightened up my days spent in the dark.
Aeons have I watched over Everyone and everything but, None that portrayed life in all its glory Like Pip, Thrush and Blue did. Pip’s bravery gives me strength as Thrush’s songs Warm my soul while Blue Shows me the sun can mask pain too.
I knew this was coming. I’d seen it before the children did. Blue left the world as the beautiful angel he was. I saw Pip cry for the first time that day; the bravest of all warriors broken down at the sight of his comrade who was no longer breathing. Thrush was there, but people say she lost her voice.
For Pip, Thrush and Blue As I watched death bring you closer I saw the strength, bravery and kindness Your little hearts were soaked in.
How wrong were they – I saw Pip and Thrush that night, at the same park they came often. Without Blue, they seemed lost but oh, how she sang! I saw Blue standing nearby, his face contorted in pain and pride bathed in a glow only freedom could provide, but they couldn’t see him and her heartfelt singing reigned the night.
I saw the veil grief covered you in. Dears – I saw it all Soaked pillows in the night and broken whispers Showed me more than you know.
But know Blue is here, his soul finally free. He lives through you Every war you win within yourself And every demon defeated Is victory for him and every song sung Is his life’s anthem.
For even in death, Pip, Thrush and Blue Remain bound and prisoners of Love, strength and kindness.
Most nights do I* take up my place in the sky, but even from up here, life just isn’t the same without you three.
Oh Blue, I wish you’d known just how much you mattered to all of us.
*This story is narrated from the moon’s perspective and so, I refers to the moon.
The biggest lie we fall for is that it doesn’t matter. Your opinion doesn’t matter. Your choices don’t matter. Your influence doesn’t matter. Your existence doesn’t matter. You don’t matter. It is the worst, most destructive lie we ever believe, and in consequence it wreaks extensive damage to more lives than your own. Don’t fall for that evil lie. Don’t forget that everything about you absolutely does matter.
You matter. How you feel matters. What you say, do, and think matters. It all matters.
World Suicide Prevention Day (WSPD) was first launched in 2003 on 10 September by IASP with the endorsement of the World Health Organisation (WHO). The 10th of September each year has been designated as a way of focusing attention on the problems of suicide worldwide.
Our renewed message is one of hope; that aims to empower people with confidence to engage with this complex subject.
An ambitious task now lies ahead. Through this theme we aim to work together, through our membership and beyond, to create a movement of preventative action, with sustained messaging to drive behaviour change and ultimately, prevent more suicides.
‘Creating Hope Through Action’ is a reminder that there is an alternative to suicide and aims to inspire confidence and light in all of us; that our actions, no matter how big or small, may provide hope to those who are struggling. Preventing suicide is often possible and you are a key player in its prevention. Through action, you can make a difference to someone in their darkest moments – as a member of society, as a child, as a parent, as a friend, as a colleague or as a neighbour. We can all play a role in supporting those experiencing a suicidal crisis or those bereaved by suicide.
The sweet stench of freshly paved roads is so intoxicating that the thought of covering up cracks with a blanket so thick that it hardens with the sun blinds my pain. Words flood my sense of coherency when my senses leave me. They’re everywhere warning me, soothing me, helping me, guiding me.
Random Specific Thoughts 