Is it not terrifying to know that our lives completely depend on being in certain places at certain times? Fate, if you are a believer, means what should happen, will happen. Our lives are theoretically planned out ready for us to fall into place. This is fate. Without fate, things still happen as they should. We get a job that moves us forward in life. We meet the person who completes us. We just fit. Fate. Coincidence. It all still requires us to be in places, situations, at exact moments.
To get that new job, you have to be in the right place to see the advertisement for applications.
To meet that person, you have to be where they are at the same time. More than that, you have to look in the right direction to see them, catch their eye amongst the crowd.
Everything right down to capturing a perfect photograph is down to the chance of being in a specific place.
Credit to Dad for this on.
How is it possible that we live our lives knowing that we are living on chance? That we maybe our lives are played out ready for us to settle into. We go around every day, not knowing what is about to happen, but whatever does, is for a reason.
Tomorrow you might walk into someone accidentally. You might look up at them and something will change. You might get their number or even already know them! But a chain of events will unfold leading into something.
You just don’t know. None of us do! We can live every day like it’s our last but something is making us be like that. Something is holding us in a system of events to get us where we are supposed to me.
I have seen a lot of skies in my time. Going camping as a kid, the pastime was to look up into the moonlit sky and watch. Just simply watch. Wrapped under the grassy blankets that had been laying in the sun all day. Tucked into my mum’s side in one chair, while my dad checked out what the lights we saw were through his telescope. Sometimes satellites, sometimes constellations. I never really understood it as a kid so just waited for the illusive shooting star to make my all important wish! “I wish I could have Rollerblades for Christmas!” Then I realised how selfish that sounded and tried to wish for everyone’s health in the hope that for good karma, I’d still get those skates… Here’s to say I never got those skates for Christmas.
But this isn’t the point. When was the last time you can say you looked up? And saw the skies. Saw the stars. Made pictures out of the clouds or flashing lights above.
I did it the other day. While waiting for fireworks with the car seat reclined right back; I watched the stars. It’s funny how in the craziness of moments, you sometimes forget parts that made it a little bit more beautiful. My evening in California was completely perfect. It was everything I’ve always wanted from an adventurous evening. The company. The location. Every single thing. And In the midst of remembering those things, I forgot something so beautiful that I barely remembered until staring up for fireworks… The stars.
Driving through the canyon, no street lights. No passing car headlights. No houses with lights ablaze. Just pure, unaltered darkness. In the days of technology, we forget about things like darkness. How often do you walk into a room now and have to strain to see without a light? Very rarely. How often do you drive along and have to worry about not seeing ahead on the road? Rarely unless you’re in the country. So tell me, when was the last time you looked up? What did you see? Few or many stars? Clouds? Anything that you remember?
My Californian sky was the best I have ever seen. I could see the milky way I swear. It was studded everywhere I looked. Clusters of bright and dim. Patches where more light shone than dark. Truly magnificent. And yet I forgot it… does that say something about how wrapped up in life we become to miss out on some of the most beautiful sights? I don’t know…but I’m sure going to look up more often in the hopes to compare.
I think everyone has an innate fear of being forgotten. Look Back through your past at all the people you used to know. How many of them are still special to you now? How many of them are even relevant? How many people can say that about you?
Throughout our lives, we have relationships with people. Life then leads to these relationships breaking down, decaying, disappearing… We become strangers to someone you used to know so well. Asked now, could you still confidentially state the other person’s favorite colour? Me neither…
We are just plain and simply want to be special. We spend our lives in and out of partnerships, friendships, and all for what? We are searching for something. Maybe it’s the person we can share our lives with. Someone to love. But behind all of that, you must be special to someone. They confide in you, trust you, look after you, all as you do them. So being someone’s most special person must be important for us…
So then…is the hardest thing realising that you aren’t as special to them as they are to you? I mean, you’ve been with them in all the hard times, worried about them and for them, put your plans aside for theirs, become so involved in their life that you’ve lost yours…and yet…They don’t really need you? They are happy to go out alone and not need you? They can plan their future away from you without considering how it will affect the relationship? They can wake up one morning and realise that they want something else. They are bored of you. So goodbye to another not so perefect, perfect relationship. And you know, all the days, weeks, months after their departure, whilst you still think of them, worry about how they are doing, they have replaced and forgotten you. Maybe we cling on so hard to a person is to try and force them not to leave. Not to forget. But that’s the shit.
EVERYONE leaves. Everyone forgets. Everyone moves on, gets bored, changes. And you can sit there and wonder what you could have done to change it, but nothing can stop it. So you come to a conclusion. “It must be me…I’m not worth it”…
Let me tell you this. You are worth it. I know, even now when I reach that point I tell myself the same thing to excuse their choice. But there’s nothing you can do. People always move on. They leave you behind. And eventually, yes, they forget you. And another thing, no it never gets easier. The more times it happens, the more you think “this is the one that will stay” and then they go just the same…
My mum told me not to put all my eggs in one basket. I never understood until..I only had one egg that I protected in my little basket. Looked after it. Kept it all safe and warm…and now that eggs gone and I have nothing… And right now? Yes, I’m feeling like I’m not worth it and it’s my fault.
So take my advice because I can’t take it myself…
Growing up sucks. It is seriously the worst.
When I was 6, I decided to stay that age forever. Then I turned 7. I wore my 6 birthday badge again because I was desperate not to get older… Then something happened and I forgot. I turned 8…then 9… Then I grew up before I realised what was happening to me. Now, I turned 20 a few days ago and it hit me again. Everything has changed this year. Everything is still changing. It’s overwhelming and I’m not ready.
This year; I travelled for the first time. I met a stranger and fell into some sort of stupid daze. I quit my job. I got a new one. I bought a car… One year. All this in one year. I think I’ve coped with it well. But that’s because I had one constant. I had my best friend…
This year things will change again. Faster. Worse. I’m losing my rock. She has big plans for her future. I’m so bloody proud of her stepping out, getting out of this place like she’s always wanted, going for adventures. But I’m so scared for the future. I rely on her for so much. She’s All I’ve had for so long and I don’t think I know how to cope without her. I’ll support her every step of the way. I’ll Skype with her whenever I get the chance. I’ll send her money if she should need it. And every single day, I’ll worry about her. I know she’s strong and brave and she can handle herself but… I can’t. This probably sounds way too sentimental for a bestfriend, but I’ve had nothing more in as long as I can remember. I’d like to say the same for her but we aren’t the same. I’ve realised this lately and it’s hard to accept when I’ve thought we were twins. But no. We aren’t. We are bestfriends though and I’m sure we always will be…
I hear it all the time that friends drift apart. I thought we were stronger than that, not that I’m saying we aren’t! Just that…sometimes there’s no beating it. She’s going off to the other side of the world to start a life. I’m staying here to…well, be me. The distance is happening. The drifting is inevitable…
So when a kid says to you, “I can’t wait to grow up”, remember when you said that as a kid. Remember the urge to grow up… Do you still feel the same? I hope to one day look back at this and think, “it turned out okay”…
I’ve always enjoyed making people laugh. I’m no comedian. I don’t have any gimmicks. I just like to be able to tell a story and watch people find it funny. Tell it in the right way and youll see a smile. That way I know I’m doing something right. When I was younger, I found one of the easiest ways to make people laugh is to be gullible. Luckily for me it came pretty easy. It was silly things that kids do like “say orange slowly and it sounds like gullible…” I’d do half of it so not to seem thick and then pretend to realise. This worked for a while until it was other gullible tricks.
Even now I’m pretty gullible. And that’s fine with me when it’s for a good ole laugh… But lately I’m realising, in the adult world, being gullible is not a joke. It’s not a thing to laugh at.
Being gullible is the act of someone telling a lie and one believing it. Or another way of putting it: “a person who is easily deceived and cheated”… Doesn’t sound so funny that way, does it?
I seem to be finding more and more people are making use of my gullibility, even the people closest to me. When I trust someone, I trust them wholeheartedly. I will take anything they say at face value and dig no deeper. My logic is “If I trust them like I do, they must be worth it. That person would not lie to me.”
The only problem is what happens when I find out because I do. It may be months down the line or moments later. But I do. And for me to be deceived by the people closest to me? That hurts. It tears me up. I feel like I can’t trust anyone. Everyone who knows me, knows that I’m somewhat easy to fool. Does that mean everyone is making use of it? Probably…I guess only time will tell .
Thing is I can’t get over the fact that I’ve been entirely open with this person and yet they’ve treated me like I’m just another person. Like I don’t deserve the truth. Maybe I don’t… Maybe I’ve been too open with them… maybe i shpuldmt assume such things… Maybe I need to shut myself off a little; let them get on with their lives; keep mine to myself. It’s just so hard to think you know someone, then get it proven that I never actually knew them. You doubt what they have told you in the past. You look at them and ask yourself “who are you?” Then the even worse question. “Who am I to you?”…apparently not what I thought at least. So years of my life have been spent pouring myself out to someone who has kept me at arms length?
Am I allowed to take back the things I’ve told them? No. Can I go back to being oblivious as to how I don’t really know them? No. Can I change myself to prevent further pain and embarrassment? Yes. Then that is what I shall do. No more late night heart pourings. No more blind trust. No more relying on them to be my source of relief when things get tough. Being more independent is the only way forward.
People always lie. People always let you down. You can’t change the world, but you can adapt yourself so that it won’t affect you as hard as it does now… so there will be no more tears when you stand alone in your house wondering what the hell just happened. There will be no more near breakdowns in front of colleagues when you explain why you are quiet. And from that: no more embarrassment; no more pain. Prepare yourself for it and you’ll be able to take it on.
Moral of this? Life’s a bitch.
“Is it crazy to adore someone that you hardly know?”
Have you ever had that feeling with someone that you’ve met where it could be a crush or it could be more. The symptoms are all correct for love; giddy smiles, constantly on your mind, butterflies. But the fact that you know so little about them, you’re just on the surface of their existence, means it should not be love. Love today requires you to know them better than anyone. There is no more falling in love and growing to know each other. Love comes after seeing every single imperfection and loving them individually…why can’t you love someone first and then fall more and more for their imperfections?
Then there’s the fact that if it was love, it should be two-sided. You think of him. He thinks of you. If he isn’t making the effort does that mean this is simply “just another crush”? How can it when the symptoms are there?! Being pushed out to the periphery of their lives but wanting so bad to be in the core; sometimes even be the core. Surely that is not right for love…but what if you’ve only known the person a very short time. Does that excuse this minor detail and mean it could be the ever illusive ‘truelove’? How about adding to the equation a kiss…A pure innocent kiss…A kiss that started innocent and somehow got so torturous the more it’s dwelled on. A kiss that seems so normal but actually is the best you’ve ever felt. Clears your mind. Weakens you knees. Tastes better than the finest delicacies. Hooks you more effectively than the worst of illegal drugs… A kiss like that is dangerous and yet you’d go back for more. You’re an addict now. So perfectly messed up. So sweetly corrupted. Surely that cannot mean love when it leaves you ruined in the worst ways?
I don’t know the answers to any of these. This is not a challenge. It is just the ramblings of someone muddling through the confusion that is life. Worse, the mess that is love. We all want it but who is really ready for it?
All the TV shows. All the movies. All the books. The literature. The music. The paintings. These forms of art have shown generations before, the craziness of love. They’ve been the standard of the era; look at a classic Jane Austen novel and you’ll see the ways people acted in society at the time. Marriage for purpose. The comfortable life not necessarily with love…
And then they’ve been the basis that people set their hopes to. The Jane Austen novels. Look at the characters that defy all for love. Defy family. Defy purpose. Defy the “rules” of society.
The literature; the arts; It is all about creating…no, more simply, finding the beauty. A classic painting of a stormy sea has something in common with a painting of a calm lily pond: someone has seen it and acknowledge the beauty in it.
The utter maddening love in the films and TV is now what so many of us set as our standards. And yet…how many of us find it? How many of us find the fantastical romance? How many of us experience the heated passion the protagonists get absorbed into… How many of us get absorbed into another person so wholly we forget who we are? Who has actually been kissed so hard that they forgot who they were…where they were…whose air they were even breathing? I want to be one of the tiny percentile. I want someone to give me, not the fairytale romance, that’s too pretty. No. I want the buzz of anticipation. The meet-cute. The stun at hearing those 3 over rated words for the first time from the person who means the world to me. The hopeless longing when parted. But more than that, I want to know it’s real. I want to hurt. I want the heartbreak. I want the shear physical pain from not being able to consider another day since being abandoned and betrayed. I want to become one with someone and have it ripped away when I’m least expecting it.
A phrase I’ll always think of; “the opposite of love is indifference”. So by hurting, by aching, by dying a little each day, I’ll know that it was real.
I’m young. I have a whole life ahead of me. No I’m not ready to settle down and have children and all that dandy stuff that follows…and I am alone. I can be alone tonight. What I can’t be is alone forever. I’m ready for life. The ups. The downs. I’ve had a good few already. I’m ready to be shown the world and to lose myself in another. I’m ready for endings. They are my greatest fear. I used to believe it was the commitment to someone or something…but I’m beginning to realise that it is the ending of the commitment that I fear most… They are so painful each time and I bet it never gets easier, because surely if it did, it would mean you are caring less and loving fewer…