25.6.19

Something stirs within my chest. Unexplainable, indefinable, yet present in an almost tangible way. I ache for the sweetness of new experience.

Emotion catches in my throat at the very thought of shy encounters. Cheeks flushed, hearts racing, hands shaking; risking everything for the chance of something more.

The empty space beside me longs to be filled with warmth and the sounds of whispered kisses and gentle exploration. Somewhere hidden beneath the mask of bravado and brass, is the desire to be desired.

To be loved.

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Blogging; Creative Outlet, or Self Indulgence?

Tonight I went to see Aurora at one of my favourite venues in the city. It was an ethereal, uplifting experience and one of the most beautiful live performances I have ever seen. I was going to write a post about it, and then I got struck with a thought; does anyone care?

My blog is not themed. I don’t talk about fashion, or write recipes, or solely review films. I’m not consistent in either the dates of posting, or in the content. I literally just write about whatever happens to be occupying my brain at any given time. It is eclectic, and often a little rambling. I have a number of followers, and a few who regularly read and comment on my posts. It’s a nice feeling, to know that there are people put there who actually like the way I write. But still, now that this thought is in my head, I can’t shake it.

I often say that the reason I write, and indeed blog, is because it’s a creative outlet that I deem necessary for my sanity. In many ways, writing is a kind of catharsis. But it is, predominantly, just me writing about myself. Experiences I’ve had, people I’ve met, things I’ve done, and thoughts that have popped into my head. I’m not in any way giving advice. I am not funny, or educational, or motivational. So, why do I think my thoughts are worth posting to the internet, instead of just writing down in a diary for myself?

I guess there’s a part of me that wants to be heard. Since I was a little girl, I’ve dreamed of being a writer. Maybe by posting blogs about my day to day life, and getting a response, is a way to live out that dream. Maybe there’s a chance that something I have to say might resonate with someone (or multiple someones) out there. Or maybe I’m just arrogant, and think that I’m more important and interesting than I really am. I honestly don’t know, but I do know that I’ll continue writing. Because, whether for creative purposes, or just to stoke my own ego, there’s something to be said for getting things out of your head and onto paper (so to speak).

Do any of you ever feel that way? Have you ever questioned why you write? Let me know!

On Loneliness, Change, and the Possibility of Relationships

Do you guys remember my one hour friend? He was a laptop technician who came to repair my laptop late last year, and he had something of an impact on me. Anyway, as I was walking back from the bank this morning, I was pondering my single life, and the notion of dating someone for the first time in over four years. To be honest with you, I’ve been a bit hesitant to admit that for the first time since my ex and I broke up way back in 2012 (I just did the math, and it’s been longer than I thought…!), I’m considering putting myself out there and trying to meet people. Now, as you may have gathered from yesterday’s post, I want to meet people in general. But in this case, I am looking to meet a person. Like…a person to be my person. Y’know?

So, back to the laptop guy. When he was fixing my laptop, we had a pretty great conversation. Over the course of the conversation, we go onto the subject of kids, and how I said I didn’t want any, and how people always tell me I will change my mind. And he said something to me that kind of just…resonated with me. I can’t remember his exact words, but he essentially said that it’s ok to change your mind. There was no judgement about it, and he wasn’t telling me that I would change my mind on the kid issue, just that it was ok if I ever did. It was as simple as that, and yet it kind of stuck around in the back of my mind. And this morning while I was doing my wandering and pondering, it popped back into my conscious mind again.

See, for so long I have been staunchly against the idea of being with someone. It’s never really worked out too well for me in the past, and I really do enjoy being on my own. And despite concerns from my dad, my buddy from back home, and a couple of other people I’ve discussed my serial singleness with, I insisted that I was better off that way.

Image result for better alone gregory house
I am a real life Gregory House. Without the medical degree…or the penis.

But in recent months, I’ve been feeling a bit lonesome on my ownsome. I think a lot of that has to do with moving away from everything I’ve ever known and all that stuff I’ve already talked about before. The thing is, because I’ve been so vocal about being happy on my own for such a long time, I felt too ashamed to admit that things have changed. That now maybe I would like to meet someone. And that’s why those words about change popped back into my mind.

All I’m saying is, you have to allow for things to happen to people, but most of all to yourself. – Laura (High Fidelity)

See, it’s something I’m beginning to realise. I mean, really pay attention to. It’s ok to change, and more than that, it’s expected. So just because I’ve been single for the last four and a bit years, doesn’t mean I have to spend the rest of my life that way. And it’s ok for me to want and need something that up until now, I haven’t wanted or needed. I mean, can you imagine a world where nothing ever changed? Can you imagine how dull that would be? Change is normal and good and I have to allow it to happen. Otherwise I may very well get to old age and realise that I have allowed myself to become old and bitter and completely devoid of any positive emotion. Huh…I guess my dad was right all along.

I’m not really sure what I’ll do from here. For now, I think it’s enough to just admit that I’m going to open myself up to the possibility of a relationship. It’s like I said in a previous post; I’m going to stop holding myself back. And this is one of those things I am going to work on. Rad, single girls, where y’all at?

P.S. For real though, I am seriously never having children.

Misc – A Collection of Thoughts From an Overactive Mind

I have a lot of things going on inside my head that I want to write about. I want to talk about the pen in my hair, and why that is important. I want to talk about the rain, and the things I would prefer to be doing on a rainy day than working. I want to talk about why my gay friend is starting to grate on my nerves. I want to talk about conquering fears, and achieving small goals. But none of these things really flow together as part of one blog. It’s not one topic to discuss, it’s many, and there is no way to segue from one to the other seamlessly. So, I’m afraid this post may be a touch rambling, but let’s just call it Misc.

First of all, the pen. I have a pen in my hair every day at work, because I often need to write things down, and it’s easier to carry one on my person than to have to hunt around for one whenever I have cause to use it. The pen remains in my hair while it is necessary, and I have a tendency to keep it there, even when it is no longer of any particular use to me. Now, I tend to go for walks at night, because it’s cooler, and it’s the only time I have, and I feel more comfortable getting all hot and sweaty under the cover of darkness. (so vanity is my sin, whatever). However, if the rumours are true, walking alone at night with headphones in is a dangerous habit for a young woman to have. And this is where the pen comes in. It is illegal to carry concealed weapons, so I cannot walk around with a pocket knife, or a bludgeoning tool, or mace. So instead, I keep the pen in my hair. It isn’t much, just a tube of ink in a plastic case, really. But it makes me feel safer to have one. Funny, isn’t it? How something so small can make such a difference. I’m not saying a pen is going to be much use against a gun, or a particularly violent attacker, should I bump into such a person, but if you’ve ever been stabbed in the eye with a pen, you’ll understand how a well placed jab can be useful. And thus, the pen is quite literally mightier than the sword… though mostly that’s because I can actually legally walk around with one.

Secondly, and with no common ground whatsoever with the pen, the rain. It is raining today. When I woke up, comfortable in bed this morning, I most assuredly did not want to move, especially not to get up and go to work. Alas, working casual means I don’t have the luxury of taking any time off, so I begrudgingly got up, and got dressed, and  went to work, and felt momentarily miserable that I was missing the weather. I enjoy the rain. Grey days bring me an insurmountable measure of happiness. When it rains, I love nothing more than curling up with a cup of tea and a book, or sleeping in, or even just listening to the sounds of cars as they pass. So today, while some people are doing that very thing, I am at work, suffering through a boring day. And the worst part? I left the shop before to go outside for a moment, and the blasted sun was out. There were hints of blue poking through the cloud blanket, and my heart broke just a little. Sounds weird, I know. But unlike a lot of people, the sun after the rain makes me a little sad.

Thirdly, my gay friend. I am at a point, where I have decided to unfollow his Facebook posts. Because he doesn’t know how to be gay, without getting on his high horse about it. Now, this is a touchy subject but I want to point out that I myself am physically, and sexually attracted to other women. This is not a homophobic attack. And I like this person, he just happens to be irritating me lately. You see, ever since getting a boyfriend, it is as if he has developed an anti-straight personality. He throws his sexual orientation in everyone’s face, adopting every gay cliche imaginable, simply in an attempt to make straight people uncomfortable. It is almost like he is hoping someone will say something to him, so he can turn around and make himself a victim and say ‘well you’re only saying that because I’m gay’. And that mentality really bugs me. If someone is a jerk to you on the basis of your sexual orientation, fuck yeah man, give ’em hell. But if you’re just saying things, hoping to incite violence or discriminatory words/actions, then you’re bringing it on yourself, and I have no sympathy for you. I don’t condone being an asshole, regardless of what side of that battle you’re on. And honey, we know you’re gay. You don’t need to keep reminding us.

And finally, fear conquering. I am afraid of spiders. Or at least, I used to be. These days, I think I’m more wary of them. You see, ever since moving out and having to kill spiders on my own, I find them less frightening. Yeah, they’re creepy as fuck and their weird eight legged movements across my kitchen floor make me recoil. But now at least, I can kill them calmly and without running away from them. Actually, I recently referred to myself on Facebook as the Spider Killer King, and frankly, after killing twenty or so spiders in the last six months (I swear to you, that’s not an exaggeration!) I think that title is well deserved.

And finally, for the couple of people who asked, I finally moved with the times and stopped writing down every book I read in a notebook. I now have a Goodreads account, which you can find here.

And on that note, I’m out. Peace, y’all.