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Sunday, June 25, 2006 

Words

Apparently Blog Reviews have rated my blog "top of all blogs". I have to admit, when I received the random stars in my comments on my Dating Requirements, I was slightly at a loss as to what they meant. Oh well, as I am never one to dwell upon the reasons for praise, and am more the type to grab the compliment and run off in the opposite direction in case they change their mind, I shall move on.

I’m getting rid of the disorder. It’s hard, but to leave I’ve got to leave properly. I refuse to leave unfinished thoughts behind. I guess I will have to include Him in this. To move past him I’ve got to give him up properly. When we broke up it wasn’t final, when I last saw him it wasn’t final, and right now it’s just an unwanted headache.

But he isn’t the only thing to go. My words, precious stanzas depicting heart break, love, joy, and misery all met the open jaws of my rubbish bin last night. I watched them go. Falling, disconsolately, into the open abyss that is the bin which never seems to overflow. And I could not help but shed a few tears.

Writing is the lover that never leaves me lonely and cold in the night. The pages upon pages of my words are the comfort blanket that no one can tell me I’m too old to have anymore. And, as I watch them fall away, finally leaving me, I catch snatches of conversations, memories, my own thoughts lifted from their place in my brain, and etched onto paper.

I come across a simple stanza:
“I’ll go wherever you want to take me,
I’ll do whatever you want to do,
I’ll smile and tell you I’m happy,
I’m happiest when I’m with you.”

And then the tears really fall. They somersault through the air, tumbling onto and smudging the words I have condemned to silence. These words are the key to my soul. They give expression to a girl whose heart is locked in stone. And they remind her of all she has lost.

They are not the prose I save onto my computer. These are not those that I wish to whore out to publishers in the hope of a more comfortable home, and a more pleasant bank statement. These are the words that I don’t dare let others read. The ones that whisper secrets, feelings, lost memories of childhood. These are the ones that cause the most pain.

I watch them go with regret. It is the same regret I feel whenever I watch someone walk out of my life knowing it will be too long before they return. But at their demise there is also a feeling of hope. Hope that new words will come to replace them. Hope that leaving them behind will allow me to painlessly get on with the future.

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I don't think your blogreview five stars is an officially sanctioned award, just a clever spammer.

yup. But a reasonably pleasant one.

hehe...spammer or not, it's still a reward of sorts ;)

Good girl:D Don't leave the old dusty things hang around too long. The future is always a much better place to be than the past.

And words...well, they can be a lot of things. They can lift you to the sky and they can shove you straight down in the ground with a crash...all depending on how they are used. And by whom.
They have the power to tell tales that only exist in ones mind and they can keep you company when no one else will.

Oops...sowwries...I'm blogging in your blog *blush*

Anyways...I wish you all the luck :hugs:

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About me

  • An albatross can fly for thousands of miles without getting tired. I've always thought that love is similar to flying, therefore we should aspire to be like the albatross.

    I don't know if I can do that. So far I haven't been so lucky. But one day I'll test my wings with someone, and flying won't be so hard after all. Or so painful.
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    albatrosssavethe

    * In 2001 one New Zealand fishing boat killed over 300 seabirds in just one trip, while fishing for ling.
    * Each year over 300,000 seabirds are killed by longline fishing.
    * Over the past 60 years some albatross populations have declined by 90%.
    * Annually around 10,000 albatross and petrels are caught in New Zealand waters alone.
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