Last night I censored my own post. Tonight I’m not. Sharing the full version of what I wrote as opposed to the watered down version. I’m feeling like I just want to say it like I’m thinking it without having to worry how it might be received.
I spend my life thinking about the impact of my actions on others.
A whole load of people would tell me I shouldn’t. I’m not responsible for the feelings of other.
Perhaps I’m not. But I sure am responsible for how I behave in this world and therefore it matters to me how others feel.
When I watch Films and TV programmes, grief is always depicted as this big outpouring of emotion where everyone is sobbing and life stops.
The reality in fact is completely different. No wonder people feel there is something wrong with them when they don’t react in “the right way. These are snippets of my thoughts through the past couple of weeks.
My girl is struggling. A lot. I am worrying so much about her
Counting the days till she is back and I can take some real care of her.
I feel my contribution to her sadness. That’s a horrible feeling to have. Even if the trigger was not by my hand I play a part. Perhaps historic actions now impacting on her. Or maybe not preparing her well enough to survive in this world. I have struggled to survive myself. My sister always said to me that in order to survive in this world you have to care less. Beat them at their own game” she would say.
But I don’t want to play in that game I would say. Whatever way you look at it I’m not sure I have served my girl very well in her being like me in many ways. A sensitive little soul.
Perhaps my sister was right. She doesn’t care beyond her own and they do the same.
I always liked people and they have mostly liked me. I was always easy going, open and warm and accepting of anyone. Taking as I find.
I still am. But now I tend to avoid a particular type. Changed through a couple of experiences that took away the confidence I had spent ages building. My eyes opened to the surface charm and popularity of people who I would not trust as far as I could throw them.
I’m rebuilding that confidence but in moments I still feel really stupid and small.
I have to talk to myself to remind myself of the qualities I possess. I hope eventually I will find my way back to that quiet easy going confidence that I built and existed before. Continued work in progress.
I love humour. Laughing is the best help for me. I properly love a giggle. I know how to have fun.
And I have always lived in a world where people know how to have a laugh and have the ability to laugh at themselves. But they also know how to be kind and look out for others too.
The nicest people I know are often the rebels or the quietest. Very rarely the big leaders of the crowd
I realise that the reason I probably have no interest in groups is groups tend to reflect the most powerful person in them.
Very rarely is that power the sort that empowers others.
I always loved a poster boy on my wall. I saw a new one a few days ago that came out of nowhere and took me by surprise with an amazing pose that had the throwback of an eighties heart throb. It immediately made me chuckle having just woken up. How wonderful. That thought was then followed by a variety of other cheeky thoughts that included “I totally would”.
It’s always good to have unobtainable to dream about.
And when it comes with humour then that’s what i call a full package.
Especially for the nice cosy girl who also has as a whole lot of invisible Scorpio fire burning inside.
I am also a girl who has spent most of my life happily skipping through the daisies in my own dreamy little way.
Never wanting to cause harm to others. Only ever wanting to be a nice person in the world. Trying to be kind to others while having fun and being happy.
We are very different in many ways but my girl said the same to me in how she wishes life to be.
It’s pretty simple cosy stuff that shouldn’t feel so hard to find in life. And yet apparently in this new modern world of technology and gloss it is. How very unsophisticated we must be to wish to live life in such an old fashioned and out dated way..
The other night I cried as a boy screamed in horror as orders were given to the torturerer to “burn his eyes out” as the boy was made to watch.
I felt the horror in the inhumanity of it all. It’s hard to unsee what you have seen.
To watch someone’s pain and be completely helpless in it. It certainly leaves it’s scars.
In that moment I burst into tears as I thought about “grateful for eyes that can see the skies”.
Real life horrible exists. So much pain that is being felt as I write. People out there that are hurting and drowning in sadness from losing loved ones while others revel in their ability to be able to go shopping for bargains.
An antedote for the pain in having to stay at home.
The horror I watched in a film depicted the man made version of horrible in the form of Reynard Heydrich.
“The man with the iron heart”.
This man existed once. His high status and importance gained through extinguishing the lives of others. His belief that they were less. In fact nothing at all.
He was given a lavish ceremonial funeral that would be given to a king.
This in contrast to the men, women and children unceremoniously murdered and thrown into ditches as he ethnically cleansed.
I don’t even know why I watched it or indeed am writing about it.
But it gave me a place to feel.
I have thought about the day after P’s dad died. He had to just go back out to work in order not to lose his job.
He was shattered but he was friendly and polite to others as he conducted his covid surveys. A job that he is now doing because his job that he spent three years qualifying for was squashed in a second by those with more power who didnt give a shit about people like him.
As he booked his jobs he had to listen to the rudeness of some posh bird telling him that his timing wasn’t convenient. “We won’t be in London as we are off to our place in the country. You’ll have to reschedule”.
When he told me about it and the way she spoke I found myself feeling angry for him.
There’s just a way of saying things and treating people.
Of course she didn’t know that his dad had just died.
It’s not the point!
Don’t you people get it? Being kind doesn’t just come into effect for five minutes with a happy clappy slogan. It’s just a way of being.
As I write I know I am finding releases for all the sadness that is trapped inside me but I feel unable to share or even feel as it has nowhere to go. Anger being a good release.
I rarely feel angry but it uses up less energy than sadness. No time for sadness.
In life though I just keep this stuff to myself. I never really wish to cause waves or upset others who are completely unaware. In the end I only wish to have a happy little life. I often feel disappointed at the way people behave towards others.
I thought the pandemic would change it. But it hasn’t and in fact what does appear to be change just feels very surface.
I know what the real thing feels like.
I am trying very hard to just ignore it or keep my distance from it. I would rather choose to try and find the positives in people, this world, this life.
But right now that type are pissing me off in their lack of respect and decency to people I care about.
Just because you don’t demand payment for goods received doesn’t mean you shouldn’t pay.
He’s dead and now you don’t have to bother. It’s not about the money it’s the principle. He lived his life doing business decently and with integrity. Doesn’t it deserve the same back. I just don’t get people. I couldn’t do that.
Am I off loading in a safe way without really hurting anyone?
I normally have more patience but when I think of how lovely P’s mum and dad were to others I find myself feeling even more angry.
And then feel angry at myself. I don’t wish to become what I dislike.
I think I would rather keep myself to myself and leave other people to it.
It’s strange, up until that point in the film I was feeling quite numb. I’ve been struggling to feel anything beyond others emotions.
Maybe the anger that I am feeling with this world makes me feel like I’m still human.
Im trying to feel all the humanness in myself.
Needing so much to feel the dreamy girl who skips through fields of daisies.
She being the core of who I am and how I’m made. She is me.
I feel like poppy as her light went out.
And then seeing the terrible scenes from India where death fills the air.
Will we all become desensitised from the pain that is felt in one loss because of so many.
Cheering for the pubs to be open despite knowing that all around us in the world there are people who are still suffering.
Who really gives a shit?
Actually I do. Always have. I care so much. Too much. But of course this world prefers those who don’t.
The line between just living your own life to the max and compassion for others becoming a question I wonder about as I hear the phrase “we all need to be more selfish” becoming aspirational.
I find everything becoming more and more soulless.
But I don’t ever want to be a part of that otherwise what is the point of being alive.
I am my soul. Without that I’m just an empty shell.
I am feeling the need to be stronger. Stronger for those who are struggling.
Dealing with some big challenges that are the aftermath of what has felt soul destroying.
Watching a person die a slow and painful death and the practicalities of that.
Eyes that can’t unsee what they have seen.
Practical, physical, mental, emotional.
Knowing I now need to find everything I am to support two very similar people that are hurting in different ways.
I find myself in moments questioning if I’m up to the job. Feeling helpless yet again in something I have no control in but sits at the root of my very existence and happiness.
I feel responsible.
I’ve learnt to take care of myself but only so I can take care of others I’m feeling tired but not burnt out. in the main feeling my own worth again inside. But Right now having to remind myself alot. Thankfully I am reminded by those that really know and love me back. I need that at times.
If being an idiot is loving others then I’m a fucking great big giant sized idiot. But I’m glad.
As I swim each day I try to find the balance required for the next.
But tonight I didn’t have the energy and I didn’t want to be around people.
It can all feel very draining in moments.
Two people who won’t ask for help elsewhere because they have no trust in others.
A cultural thing I believe. Our type know how to keep our mouths shut and nod our heads. We neither want the aggravation or to leave ourselves open in being shafted by those that don’t play by our values.
Not many people are interested in a different perspective now. You can have an opinion as long as its the group opinion. So we just stay mute.
I believe there are many many people who feel muted. And I also think that as all the loud people rush out to congregate, a lot of the quiet people continue to isolate until the loud lot run out of steam and shut up for a moment.
I think it will be a while.
In my own little world I am trusted.
And yet the pressure to hold all of it, not have any of the answers and remain gentle and patient can feel incredibly hard.
Being a little more real in that than pretending I’m the expert on human kind and it’s psyche.
I learn more from those who struggle than from those who believe they have the answers.
I wonder if those who think they have the answers have ever really struggled. Come back to me when you have. I guarantee it will all look very different .
I feel like I learnt a lot in stepping out into new territory but in stepping back have been reminded in what things really hold value.
For me it’s kindness, care, loyalty and love.
I feel hopeful for better times ahead. At present sticking plasters on things just to get through this current moment and then hoping that the Summer will allow time for more.
Time is the healer as they say.
I believe in all of our abilities to find happiness again.
After watching that film I found myself wondering how people can be brainwashed
so easily. It feels like it is outdated thinking that must have existed a million years ago and yet it was less than one hundred years ago in a world that would have been classed as civilised.
A time when my grandparents would have existed. Holding theirs and their parents stories of the struggles of life and the struggles of war.
Experiences of life that hold so much knowledge and yet we seem to place very little value in those people now.
During the past week I have been around P’s family. The older generation.
The ones that apparently are all over the hill and don’t get all this new technology … “aaaahhh bless them”
How patronising is that. As though to be able to use a computer and a mobile phone makes you some kind of genius.
Is genius classed as lots of people who follow a path that has been laid out for them having more idea than those who had to lay their own.
They have all the answers to real life despite the fact that their whole lives are lived out in a virtual world.
Do they have any idea what life was like before? They are told it’s better but what do they have to compare it to?
They have been weaned on this stuff like little babies by the big corporates from the moment they were born. Drip fed until they have all become completely reliant on it. They can’t live or function without it.
Their whole life being on their little phone. The whole world would come crashing down without that virtual cloud.
They laugh at the older lot who don’t get it.
The older lot just feel sorry for them in how little fun life it is for them now. With the censors constantly on hand to say “ you can’t say that”.
Freedom of speech. What’s that?
I feel that control in moments until I switch it all off and become my own person again.
We have all been well trained in following the arrows through covid.
Will we follow them forever now?
I tend to share very little of my thoughts with others anymore. I remembered how it all works. One wrong word and you are slaughtered.
And at this point in the show I just want a quiet life paddling my own little canoe. And yet without question I will always help those around me. Anyone who needs it.
I find that Money tends to mix with money, and where that lives so does power. It’s not for me.
As for those oldies. You only have to listen to a couple of their stories to know that they have experienced what proper fun really looks like.
It’s all stacked in freedom. That’s what I’m interested in.
As I swam at the weekend I watched a young woman in the jacuzzi taking selfies in a variety of poses trying to be sexy as though she were in a fashion shoot…. All by herself. “What are you doing?” I thought as I watched her with confusion.
It’s a different kind of mindless madness. She spent the entire duration posing for the picture instead of enjoying the bubbles. For what ? A thumbs up?
Once she got her perfect photo she got out.
What a fucking waste of a jacuzzi and half hour of her young and beautiful life.
You know that will be over in five minutes. It’s a very small window of real youth before you are then chasing it.
I feel sad in seeing the big and unique characters of my past disappearing one by one. People with lots of interesting and funny chat, lots of heart and proper minds of their own. People with real funny bones.
I find myself sighing at the idea of eventually having to life life surrounded by lots of bland people constantly taking photos of themselves and posting them.
Do they call that social media or a culture of narcissism.
I’ve asked a few family members if they would like to be young again. Do you know they all came out with the same answer.
Definitely!!!! So much! .. but only if I could go back and be young again when I was young. I’d have no interest in being young now.
Too much bullshit.
Yeah make you right!