It’ easy to blame yourself for things which you believe are under your control, then fall apart. However, more often than not, even the best laid plans will hit a snag and disintegrate at the most inopportune of moments. Because of this, it’s best to have a plan “B”, which incorporate the elements of the first, you know, the best and workable bits, and take a different approach, in “hope” of achieving the same goal.
I guess it’s fair to say that in most occasions, I’ve never focused on having a plan “B”. Perhaps this was an overconfidence, in a false hope and childish fantasises. But aren’t we told at some point in our lives- “that if it was meant to be then it will surely happen” or “the best things come to those who wait”, or, “the meek shall inherit the earth”? Seems like these sayings were geared towards the ever hopeful, the eternal procrastinators (me) or just the downright lazy. Maybe, the adoption of the famous quote of Winston Churchill during the WWII campaign- “Keep Clam and Carry On” is more fitting, though due to “hipster” elements and creative liberties, the saying has now taken on a new life form of it’s own.
I can spend hours calculating all my miss steps and wondering if I had said “X” would it have equalled to “Y” and not “Z”? Or I could have taken a passive approach and done nothing? I liken this to the rowboat approach, in which, you’ve forgone using the oars to steer and left it up to the river to decide. Then blame the river when you encounter rapids.
The point is dwelling on past failings can turn an ever-optimistic to a forever, stuck in their ways of despair pessimistic. Striking the right balance between the two is a challenge for anyone, especially me, as Im quite content in sitting in one zone when I believe something is too tough or Im unwilling to accept the outcome. But, I’ve found that once in while I’ve given myself the all clear to move on, acknowledging the mistakes with a passing nod, and moving speedily along to the next and somewhat better results. It takes training but in the end, it always seems to work out for the best.
“What do you think is up there?” she said
“Up where?” he replied.
She pointed towards the sky and his gaze travelled the line of her index finger and into the muddled grey above them. They had been lying on the grass for the past half hour, trading the occasional sighs along with cigarettes she had bought from the off-licence. Strewn bottles of ale laid empty and a stray breeze would rush up the hill now and then.
“Wasted thoughts and promises, I suspect, reside in their eternal misery up there” he said after careful contemplation.
She propped herself onto her elbow, wincing as a renegade pebble embedded itself into her skin. Her hair fell forward, enveloping her tiny face. His hand reached into the make-shift hood and caressed her cheek.
“And down here?” she said
“Down here?” he asked.
She nodded and puffed silently on the remains of her last cigarette.
“Well. Down here, there are dreamers of impossible thoughts and lovers of unrequited love. Makers of unattainable goals and haters of mortality. Humans my dear. Humans” he replied.
At the end of every conversation I have with my gent he ends it with “Give me a smile”. Tonight was no different, but sometimes when you’re in a routine you tend to miss the little details.
Tonight I noticed.
I noticed the way he pauses when I smile. The way his eyes soften at the edges and danced around me face. The way his voice softens to say “Goodnight”. And the subsequent blush that floods my face and my inane ability to be unable to sit in the perfect silence we’ve created but quickly fill it with babble because my flustered feelings and outpouring of love would become apparent any second.
Four years and you still make me flustered. Four years my heart beats just a little bit faster. Four years and you can still dissolve me into mush. They tell us that we’re crazy to carry on the way we do, but we’d be crazy not to.
I swear I could have been an excellent writer for the series. Can this be incorporated into the script somewhere?
Words* by me. Spoken (wishfully thinking) by Jon Snow…
the midnight sun is no place for you. nor is the frigid cold. your veins are filled with the blood that has seen many years and your eyes have witnessed too many dawns. you hold no compassion for the men that follow you into the abyss. they follow blindly, feeling their way with their swords as a blind man would feel with his cane. why don’t you pity them? do you find them lesser creatures that as they drop like flies amongst your feet you only bow your head out of honour but no sympathy?
i do not offer my adoration for your merciless rule but pity that one day you shall be fortunate to suffer the same fate as your men and for them to spit on grave out of joy. you may call yourself a king, but i shall not bow. for i shall only drop to your feet when there is blade upon my neck and i look to heavens and praise the gods for welcoming me home with open arms.
*unedited words….
I see your body like the earth. Im an anxious explorer, searching for some undiscovered land. I trace your valleys and your mountains with my fingers like a blind man reads braille and I traverse your gorges and crevices with skills like a deft mountain goat. I commit your contours to memory for I am afraid that I would lose all my senses and become dumb, blind and deaf to the advancement of time. To which your face will bel no more than a foggy film against my brain and my eyes will struggle to remember the shade of your hair. My tongue heavy, my lips defiant refusal to utter your name. My ears unwilling to receive the sound of your voice and my hands scalded by your touch.
I posses no qualities that make me unique to warrant your approval and commitment. I offer only my reconstituted heart which I’ve moulded it some resemblance of living organ. I beg of you, that if you are to damage it to the point it no longer beats and I am left hollow and afraid to welcome that of affection once more, that you should do so quickly and painlessly. So that I may crawl inwardly into myself and form a chrysalises of harden iron in which to protect myself in the harsh winters of discontent and heartache until I am to find one who perhaps, may become worthy and shatter this self-imposed cocoon.
*This was written quickly and unedited. My thoughts are totally askew tonight…
There’s a spot on my back where your head fits perfectly. Your shallow breathes lull me to sleep as I count them instead of sheep.
thedailywhat:
Bugger This of the Day: Two SoCal men were arrested aboard a gay cruise ship docked in the Caribbean island nation of Dominica after someone on shore saw them allegedly having sex in their cabin and complained.
[cbsla / dominicanews / photo: thedominican.]
I don’t really delve into the realm of social commentary. I prefer to keep my opinions to myself or expressed amongst my peers. But, I thought I should address this post because this cruise ship also visited my country.
We live in a society where the expression of sexuality, be it hetero or homosexual is frowned upon. In my country, the practise of Buggery is illegal. But this doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist upon our own shores. While many will preach that we live in Christian society and the Bible reviles in such a practise, we tend to turn a blind eye to the issues which currently plague our country. How many young women have engaged in prostitution? High-schoolers dropping out of school because they’ve become pregnant by men twice their age? The many shows which feature artist(s) who overtly demoralize women and glorify rape?
It’s sad to say that the emphasis placed on this is disproportionate. If we are so staunched in our beliefs against homosexuality why then do we encourage and promote our islands to companies who operate openly gay cruises? We make a fuss, but, this isn’t the first time they have visited our shores. We complained then and we complain now. Yet I guarantee we will still promote our destination as being “gay-friendly”.
I could care less about someones sexuality since I prefer to focus on the person themselves, rather than who he or she sleeps with.
It all boils down to money. We depend heavily upon tourism for our economy and would prefer to have more ships dock at our ports than to have less. That being said, cruise operators should try to bring awareness to their passengers. Whilst you’re on shore, please do not draw unnecessary attention to yourself because of X, Y, Z or just simply forgo these islands all together.
Because these two men were on their balcony and someone happened to see them doesn’t warrant them being arrested for Buggery but maybe indecent exposure. What if it was a regular cruise liner docked and two people stood there naked? You might say put some clothes on and that will be it or you simply say nothing and go on your merry way, mumbling “crazy tourists”. But, because you knew it was a gay cruise liner, you instantly and mistakenly formulated the notion that these two people were engaged in some illegal practise and therefore offended? That seems presumptuous of you.
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Source: thedailywhat
Originally from The Daily What
So, once in a while I would get the question: “Who’s your favourite musician and why?” I never hesitate with the answer. I always reply with John Mayer. I’m subsequently met with the obligatory eye roll and an exasperated sigh. The questioner would then ask: “Is it because of “Your Body Is A Wonderland (YBIAW)?” The short answer to this is NO. The long answer is why I’m writing this.
My first listen of Mayer’s music was at the age of 13 at the beginning of the millennium years as I liked to call it. I was engrossed in the boy band craze after coming off the high of that which is Girl Power. I remember my friends and I trading NSYNC cards in lieu of Pokemon and discussing who was hotter Justin or JC (I was pro JC. Then I met him in person and now I think he’s a total dick, but c’est la vie). I was in my second year at secondary school and we had finally gotten cable and MTV was introduced to my innocent ears. MTV was tamer back. After school, I would flip to the channel and wait for Carson Daly to introduce the top 10. While watching the filler videos that the played between TV shows, I heard YBIAW.
The video was simple enough. Yet the message behind it, even though it was bubblegum pop, was the appreciation of the womanly form. Heck, we were perfect just the way we are before Bruno Mars sauntered onto our screens. And perhaps, I was too young to understand at the time, but I realise now that the description of Mayer’s ideal lady was when she is in her element, raw, naked and uninhibited. I’ve grown to understand that no matter how much I get dressed up, my BF will always think I’m gorgeous no matter what. Even when I’ve had a long day and dressed in my pjs with bedraggled hair and my glasses on.
But, Im digressing.
John Mayer’s music goes beyond the whole lovey dovey element for me. It has punctuated and underscored experiences in my life which have molded and shaped me. It introduced me to my first love and my first heartbreak. It helped me through tragedies foreseen and unforeseen. It acted as the soundtrack to my teenage years. Used as a scale to weigh important decisions and brought things into perspective with just a simple melody. No matter how many albums he makes, there will be songs which are sacred to me and attached with memories I can never get rid of or want to.
“3x5” helped me through the 4 months when my country was recovering from the most destructive hurricane to hit the island in 50 years. It also builds the optimism that I lacked for so long when I entered into my now long distance relationship.
“Slow Dancing In Burning Room” gave me the courage to accept that a relationship could not be saved and needed to pulled off life support in order to retain the dignity and the friendship that still existed.
“Vultures” spurred me to make the decision to study abroad and to leave everything and everyone I knew behind.
“Georgia” throws a light on the quarter life crisis that I’m facing and it encourages me to do things for myself for once and not for the pleasure of others.
I could go on and on about every album, every song and every lyric but I wont. The bottom-line is this: asking me about my favourite artist, you won’t get a one dimensional answer. You’ll get a piece of ME. Who I am. The way I think. My past, my present and possibly my future.
Gentle was the breeze coming off the Mediterranean sea on that cool February afternoon. Ivory sea foam repeatedly kissed the black sandy shore littered with broken shells. The atmosphere, calm, silent, only broken by the Call to Prayer from a distant mineret.
Two figures lay in the sight of the snow capped Mt. Olympus. Both are lulled by the juxtapositions of the atmospheric sounds. Their bodies resembling jigsaw pieces haphazardly put together. His head on her stomach. Her head in a book. Neither speaking, yet, communicating through exhales and inhales.
Her mind is elsewhere, turning over countless thoughts of the person snoozing on her lap. She periodically peeked over the pages at the top of his head. Feeling his breath upon her skin, she found it difficult to have sympathy for the character of the book and she gave up trying to decipher the mysteries of Egypt. Her gaze upon the sea, she counted the number of breaths he took.
At intake 80 and exhale 81 he began to stir. Only to burrow his head further into her stomach murmuring incoherent words. She strained to hear them and was close to asking for repetition and clarification when she felt the tentative touch upon her bare leg. Confusion furrowed her brow and she plunged into a makeshift twilight zone.
Perhaps she was mistaken.
Perhaps it was the wind.
But the warmth she felt before returned. Along her leg, upon her knee till its final resting place on her inner thigh. She stared at the top his head perfectly still upon her stomach, his breath unchanged.
Softly she whispered to the atmosphere, ” We are friends. Aren’t we?”
Afternoon. Crisp. Wintry winds caress our skin.
Branches cast patterns against your profile as I observe you from my perch.
You’ve been silent for a long time. Your eyes focused on the horizon. Your mind somewhere else. I dear not speak for I fear not only will I break your concentration but I will also shatter the bubble we created.
I sit and observe. My breath coming out in puffs of smoke, dissipating in air. I make a mental sketch of your features. Committing them to memory, my heart aching with despair.
It is not long before I disappear into my own train of thought. Only to be halted and jarred to reality by the feel of your hand clasped against mine. Your warmth seeping through. A warmth I wish I could bottle and save for the days when I feel so alone.
“Shall we go?” you say. I nod wordlessly. My mind screaming “No, Stay with me, I beg of you. Stay with me”
![thedailywhat:
Bugger This of the Day: Two SoCal men were arrested aboard a gay cruise ship docked in the Caribbean island nation of Dominica after someone on shore saw them allegedly having sex in their cabin and complained.
[cbsla / dominicanews / photo: thedominican.]
I don’t really delve into the realm of social commentary. I prefer to keep my opinions to myself or expressed amongst my peers. But, I thought I should address this post because this cruise ship also visited my country.
We live in a society where the expression of sexuality, be it hetero or homosexual is frowned upon. In my country, the practise of Buggery is illegal. But this doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist upon our own shores. While many will preach that we live in Christian society and the Bible reviles in such a practise, we tend to turn a blind eye to the issues which currently plague our country. How many young women have engaged in prostitution? High-schoolers dropping out of school because they’ve become pregnant by men twice their age? The many shows which feature artist(s) who overtly demoralize women and glorify rape?
It’s sad to say that the emphasis placed on this is disproportionate. If we are so staunched in our beliefs against homosexuality why then do we encourage and promote our islands to companies who operate openly gay cruises? We make a fuss, but, this isn’t the first time they have visited our shores. We complained then and we complain now. Yet I guarantee we will still promote our destination as being “gay-friendly”.
I could care less about someones sexuality since I prefer to focus on the person themselves, rather than who he or she sleeps with.
It all boils down to money. We depend heavily upon tourism for our economy and would prefer to have more ships dock at our ports than to have less. That being said, cruise operators should try to bring awareness to their passengers. Whilst you’re on shore, please do not draw unnecessary attention to yourself because of X, Y, Z or just simply forgo these islands all together.
Because these two men were on their balcony and someone happened to see them doesn’t warrant them being arrested for Buggery but maybe indecent exposure. What if it was a regular cruise liner docked and two people stood there naked? You might say put some clothes on and that will be it or you simply say nothing and go on your merry way, mumbling “crazy tourists”. But, because you knew it was a gay cruise liner, you instantly and mistakenly formulated the notion that these two people were engaged in some illegal practise and therefore offended? That seems presumptuous of you.](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m1at49Emua1qzpwi0o1_1280.jpg)
