Stu In Progress

we are broken in our own little ways. These is our characteristics.

Today I’ve woken up feeling decidedly lost and confused about my world. I’m not sad. I’m just lost in between the crossroads of these thoughts that filter pass me. What doe I want my life to mean?

Turn a circle upside down and lick the wonderful from it and feel the beauty as it absorbs into your eyes’ inner soul. Breath in deep and sense the flow of freedom pulsating into you.

Face the sun and feel the soft rays wash over your eyebrows and cheeks as the day slowly whispers it’s essence into your skin.

Close your eyes.

When you’re dead you’ll never feel anything.

I suppose that if you consider the effects of being alone to be negative in some respects, then I suppose one can rationalise a psychological impact in being unable to tell someone something extraordinary.

For example, today I received a salary rise and could not express my joy to anyone but myself. I cannot communicate with my work colleagues as they may have not received such an appraisal. I cannot discuss this with a partner as I’ve none and besides overjoyed, I am suprised and somewhat bewildered – something you might deem worthy of talking about.

How much does this inability to express outwardly to a person or persons affect me psychologically? I understand the value of my accomplishment but does it require me to talk about it, to realise it or do I require the feedback from other people? Does all of this or lack of it impact on me?

An interesting observation is that as I know the value, feel it and accept it for what it is and reward myself as perhaps one would expect from peoples congratulations, feedback and support then does this fulfil that need that would otherwise be unfulfilled without the aid of social interaction? Logic says that if the need is met, by social feedback or internal self-praise then there should be no void left behind by the inability to fill it.

I am remarkably happy. I will buy myself a treat and will think about the positives that this brings to my career and outlook on life and realise that it is a massively positive thing.

I speak to you to tell you the lies in my life. The truth behind the changes within me. I come to you so that I can feel free, knowing you’ll hear me.

I sometimes decay. That which made me uncertain and boyish, that which defined me, yields now to who I am now. Are these new words that a write in my book like those that were once before?

I am harder now, scarred and less hurt, less insignificant more defined and more prepared.

I’m still cautious.

Always aware of those that still try to define me, those that held me like clay in the palm of their hands and pressed forms from between their fingers.

I learn from the depths of the shadows and height of the sunshine on my face.

Solitude is bliss. Loneliness is nothing if you don’t yearn for anybody anymore.

Loneliness is not my enemy, it’s my companion – a constant remainder that all i have is me and that I will die someday and it reminds me I’m not alone in my mind. It tells me that i can do anything, by myself, it tells me to be brave and to be bold. Loneliness makes me fearless…yet fearful of the future.

I am changed and I am not changed, I am older. I am responsible. I am skilled surgeon in unfairness, yet fear much still. I love no one, and no one loves me. I own nothing and loose nothing.

And I tell you. I am happy.

I don’t want to.

I don’t want them to feel that they can draw me out when they choose to.

A trapped mind fights to find solace in its being, weakened at birth by those around it, it forgets who it is, what it is and why it is and it feels happy at lest to be. It knows its weaknesses and is afraid. It worries that those around it will again force, hurt it and make it concede and it will remember how useless it is.

Yet, time passes and it knows so suddenly that it belongs to a gigantic Dragon – it decides veraciously not to be slave to those that did before feed on its insecurities. It vows with deadly reclection never to be victim to those that did take full advantage of its weaked state. It will rise, never again to yield to those that try to be its master – for its alive now with all consciousness and through it races flashes to the past that infuriate it, that which those before it had so cowardly provoked it with. Like that of a gang that harasses a baby rhino until it thinks itself a mere lamb, fears so intensely when the lamb is angry for the first time and then knows what it is.

It is me and i am it and it chooses when it suits it, now with unyielding distinction. It will not be summoned, nor will it give into the familiarity of despair.

Those that wake from a sudden jolt at the crack of dawn, will know It have woken.

Yet, How difficult it is to break a habit. At its newness, part of it so wants to yield, to remember the familiarity of deception. Part of it fights the apprehension yet quietly yields to indecision. Too long has it been victim to that which it did allow onto itself. It sometimes want to feel the pain of disrespect for its so familiar and then, there is that inside it that has awoken form slumber that which wants to pick itself up and fight a furious battle with all that which tries again to restrict it, its character and its self belief.

That part refuses to become disrespected and pushe to move forward, aggressively, diligently and as true to itself as it can be. It looks boldly across the valley of a thousand lies – for fortune favours the brave, and the brave do not yield.

It’s a strange feeling knowing what my biggest regret will be. The more I think about it the more I wonder how crazy the idea is. I sometimes think that perhaps I can change what will happen but I know that I dont want it to happen.

When I die, I hope I will leave a legacy.
Of this, I plan now.

Of my biggest regrets, that which leaves me alone in this world will be my biggest but in this deepest lonliness, a mighty solitude will yield greatness.