The red pill or the blue pill?…

red-pill-vs-blue-pillI was given a book to read this week, by a friend. They thought it would be beneficial to my current circumstance, perhaps help me move forward with greater conviction and courage. To see the world anew, or to create a new one.
Attached to the cover, was a sticky note. Just a small blue piece of paper, tapped gently onto the top left hand corner, written neatly and purposefully. I stared at that little note for a while and put the book down. I picked it up again and read the note again, replaced the book on the counter, and went on. Finally I picked the book up and flipped it open. I only made it through the intro intact. The note read…’The red pill or the blue pill?’.
(For those not aware…”You take the blue pill, the story ends. You wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill, you stay in Wonderland, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes.”  The term redpill refers to a human that is aware of the true nature of the Matrix.)

On page 10, was the line ‘We’ve purposefully made the tone of this book humorous, to distract you from the very real and overwhelming feelings you’re having right now’.
ca97f47154575c6a5798e0693e122b7fMaybe they’re onto something, I might pick it up again, if I can. When I can.
You see, the problem isn’t with knowing or not knowing the actual truth, it’s in which truth you wish to know and believe, but still having to accept all of the truths simultaneously. And more importantly, applying your own truth to the mix.

I know that there is also truth to many of the words I am being told, including those I don’t want to hear. I know that I deserve more. I know this man is flawed and complicated, and largely untrustworthy. I knew those things all along (intuition is great isn’t it?). I know that he has caused me much heartache. But… I am in love with him, and also love him still, because I also know that people in general, and love itself is flawed and complicated. It was the risk I took, well aware of the consequences, yet still hoping that a better truth would prevail. That he too, might see hope in the truth.

He is the first person in my life that I have struggled, and persevered, and tolerated with, through all the problems. Somehow this, he, is different for me, than any other. That is what I can’t let go of. The undeniable connection I feel. He has made me a hopeless romantic. I don’t want to settle. He is my Fish. Yes, I understand what he has done, yes I know what you all see, and yes…I would rather spend a lifetime missing him, alone, than betray my own feelings. And perhaps I will, but at least I know it will be true. ‘Moving on’ is all well and good, and unavoidable. I will travel, and befriend, and experience, and live…but the experience will be that much poorer in comparison to what could have been.
12341103_861836303914305_5978606474863632995_nTo those that suggest I would be sacrificing my dignity and self respect, I say, it’s not a question of either of those. I am well aware of the situation, what I do and don’t deserve, but continue to ‘choose’ what I want, love and have passion for. If I am wrong to do so, it wouldn’t be the first time, but I’d rather be wrong than have regrets. Essentially, doing what I am told, what is expected, or what is ‘correct’, is itself, a sacrifice of a part of who I am.

Perhaps people who have never experienced this feeling, which starts unexpectedly in your stomach like butterflies, makes your whole body quiver with nervous anticipation, and smile foolishly when you see a person, makes you crave their touch (even when they are right next to you), and miss them uncontrollably when they are gone from sight, don’t know it even exists? I admit, I thought I knew what raw, true love felt like…until it really happened. And then I knew without a doubt that all other feelings, failed in comparison to what I felt for this man sitting right in front of me.
beau11.jpgHe makes me feel like too much, and not enough. He makes me want to be a better person, yet I like to believe he once loved me for who I already was. I admire who he is, despite and due to his duplicity, and his strengths, and yet I want to keep him safe, and show him that there is so much more to the world, and living, beside the right person…
13524538_840170119452159_2288477524924573198_nI worry that I will live with the feeling of missing him always. I know I never stopped for the first ten years, and despite what he has now in the last few again, I miss him still. Some days are worse than others, and there are days when I almost feel nothing at all, but this is always there in my mind. In the silent moments, the loud ones, the funny ones…and when I turn to share or talk, love or smile…he is not here. I get this distinct moment of sadness each time in that realisation.
13450751_835557149913456_7253757091669370436_nSo, after major digression…the pages of this book are supposed to help. To help me proactively change the way I feel, and see the world. The stories of anothers struggle and victory, claim to be healing, and maybe they are, if only for the fact that they instil a sense of not being alone in the world. They will say I am not the only one to ever feel this way, and yet I know undoubtedly that I am. But, that said, words are powerful, a very special art form, and they can be used to hurt or heal. And some may resonate…
86df8fc8863dfb232e615a0b11e84907In a moment of drunken out-casting of inhibition I wrote this earlier in the week, and sent it to a friend. I reread it with my face in my palm the next morning, yet they claim to approve, so I will share it here, despite feelings of inadequacy to find the words to convey the depth of inspiration, and the primitive gushy, repetitive, romantic nature of it. You’ll just have to deal with those parts (and the typos are disgraceful-I know).
Don’t judge too harshly though, I rarely share my personal writings with anyone, and whatever inspired me to write it, might well bite. I am a harsher critic of my own, than you could all ever be collectively.
Always remember…Never judge another until you have walked a mile in their shoes. That way you are a mile away…and you have their shoes 😉
pretty-words
Goodnight Kids
V

 

 

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You oughta know

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Music. It is food for the soul. Art, an escape, an expression, a painting, a song.
Artists and musicians are thought quirky and individual, unique and bizarre. Their works are often seen by the blind, as just words to paper or paint to canvas. Their pieces are bought and sold like commodities, to be played in lounges and casinos, or hung in halls to be analysed, stared at, appreciated or ignored.
Yet what are they, but the epitome of truth, shrouded in veils of commercialism and set in scenes of neutral passersby.
ec51b8defd806a366f08998bdf9400e7Artists, musical or fine, the real ones, are tellers of the most important thing in the world: the truth. They sit with paper and bleed lyrics of their truth, until their bones are brittle and drained. They find music that will convey their pain or happiness, or the depth of their despair. They paint with hues that are felt from their very souls. They write of heartache and loss, and places from which there is no foreseeable coming back. They question the very fibre of their beings, and with whom they can combine it, to once again see light in their worlds.
991b022c11520e47c6a8f6bdfd5af9eeMartha Wainwright, Garth Brooks, Lemmy Kilmeister, Depeche Mode, David Grey, Disturbed, Aretha Franklin, Anni DeFranco, Ed Kowalcyck, Shaun Morgan and Creed all spew from the speakers, and push their pain and suffering into your veins. Alanis Morrisette, The Verve, Adele, Elle King, Sister Hazel, Dido, and Marilyn Manson tell intricate, excruciating tales of love lost, and some even plans of sweet revenge, through gritted teeth, with closed fists.
images-40Springsteen, Dire Straits, Alter Bridge, Chantal Kreviazuk tell you of days lost, slipped through their grasp, never to be relived. Nine Inch Nails, Tracey Chapman, 3 doors down, grind out their hardships and sorrow. Bruno Mars, Billy Joel, Pink, Nickelback, The Pogues & Jamie Lawson swoon songs of passion and undying love. Eminem & Jeff Lang force forth their words of survival and resilience. Tim McGraw & KT Tunstall instill hope and light. Elvis, makes your toes tap with memories of childhood and cleaner days, and Madness, Plain White Tees, Christina Aguilera & Lily Allen take it one step further until you’re on your feet moving.
fc73b604fce70343713e5cf42a8c5d82There is a song for every feeling, every mood, every change in the weather and every tear. They sing or write, or paint about what you feel, because they have felt it long before you have. Singers are storytellers, and we find our stories in their songs, to cling to them for comfort and unity. For they are our truths also. We find the people on the planet that have endured the same things we have, and lived to speak of it. The eloquent ones, that can make misery sound meaningful or useful. The talented ones that can make pain into pleasure, or healing, or give us the gifts of tears, or hope or smiles. Music is filled with lessons, and coping mechanisms, and emotion.
351c19dd9452523fb9c36042480d1910And the people that you know, the ones in your life, not just your playlist, they also tell their stories in their music. I have yet to know anyone, that sits down to write a song sans personal inspiration. Writing lyrics, as with poetry or painting or any other form of art, is to put a part of your heart and soul on display for all to see. And just like with this blog, they may tell themselves that nobody will read it, hear it, see it…but once it is created, it is out there in the world, hiding in plain sight. And it will be heard.
c54b717a1ddd32da2d741a21159ddeeeIf anyone ever asks you to listen to their songs Kids-listen. You will learn more about them, who they are, than words alone can ever say.
Cheers
V

And then…

In my last post I spoke of love, and what it is, or rather what I feel it is. While I’m sure everybody has a different grasp on what it means, and how it feels, some parts of it are just fact. In the last few weeks, I was introduced to a concept, that really should be a given, but thinking of it in this way changes how you could view it completely. It is a simple shift in perspective, yet a very obvious one. It comes from African American feminist writings, and is such a simple thing, yet sheds a new light.
Think of ‘love’ more in terms of it as a verb than as a noun. It is far more important to think about the ways people ‘do’ love rather than the ways they feel or speak love.
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This is what I am finding the need to accept, in the healing process. That is what I have had trouble with, in my 3 year tumultuous ‘relationship’. The words vs actions battle. I have always struggled with the fact that he told me he loved me deeply, is in love with me still…yet in short time, his actions spoke otherwise constantly. Possibly the battle in my head was based on the fact that I have always tried to be honest in my words, and spoken how I feel with those I love. I believe that if you feel it, you should say it, as these are the chances we never get back, and can truly regret once the moment has passed.
Perhaps I was too confident that I knew him well, that his heart was like mine, that his intentions were honest and true. Perhaps I just wanted to believe it was so.
grey14I have learnt a lot of other things in the past weeks also. From frivolous gossip to talk with a lot more substance, tarot readings to plain facts. I have given lots of thought to who I am, and what makes me calm or angry. I have seen things I did not want to see, and made realisations by connections and memories. And while it hurts, the cold truth is always better than pretty lies.
images-gaAnd this. I was told this…“I got a sense of  the way the pain seems to be related to you moving towards acceptance”
I guess, beyond reason, I still have an incredible amount of love for this man, and to resolve the situation in my mind, I need to feel the depth of what he has done to me. I need to feel the pain and betrayal and anger and hurt. I need to feel that I deserve more, and that going through this again is no longer an option.
download-13I read a quote this week that stood out to me…it said “Even though I know the car will crash, I would get into it with you again” and I wondered if I would. If I would -now, or in a week, or a month, or ever again, knowing what would happen. Or whether if I got into that seat again, could anything be done to ensure a safe journey?
But it was just that…pointless wondering, And therein lies the problem…still even considering the possibility. Maybe somewhere in my mind lies hope that the connection is not lost. My heart is saying there is a chance, where my head is saying there is not. I feel conflicted. I cannot bring myself to burn that bridge just yet, no matter how brightly it may shine a light to pave a future path.
13989544_10209385919018654_501511181_nIn the struggle for acceptance, and trying to move in the right direction, I find myself surrounded, not intentionally but usually, with friends that have led tough, colourful lives. People that have endured their own pain and suffering, and lived to bear the scars. People that are destined to come into my life, or I theirs, at times of need or convenience. Musical, intellectual, generous, heartfelt, deeply emotional people. People that don’t judge. And they help.
0aa9342f59fabb361cad5ff717a838fbI do believe in passion and love above all. This is probably why I am having trouble with what is happening. Because the connection I have had with this person, the way in which we met, the emotion, the sexual energy, the peace our presence seemed to bring each other, the events across many years…they are all too strong and deep to be just coincidence or chance. The fact that he could not just walk away (which is what he claimed would make his life so much simpler), albeit trying many times, and I could not just give up (however harmful I knew it was), mean more. Somewhere inside I cannot believe that it was not meant to be…
9c80acbac7be599a3ad1f1fae10271b7But I will keep trying to find ways. Ways to heal, and find future hope and promise in other things…and more importantly…in myself.
Healing is not related to ‘treatment’, but has to do with acceptance, with fulfilling passion, and with knowing the type of love you deserve.
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I hope the stormy weather is fulfilling to your soul as it is to mine, and the imminent Super-moon brings the right change in tide for you all.
G’Night Kids
V