Monday, 12 November 2018

Ashes


Stepping from the ashes, the desolation around my very human, frail frame, I keep my eyes closed. I'm not yet ready to forget the moments behind me, holding on, trying to grasp the memories long gone. I’ll never forget, maybe never forgive, but to re-live those seconds burns hotter than the flames that consumed my very life.


I've said it before, I’ll say it again, I’ll repeat it a thousand times until I perfect the words… I'm not perfect, I will fail, but the grace within my very soul will learn. It’s adaptable, I'm willing, able, ready to become something better each step of my very life. I have a future, that could end any second, but it’s still there, until it arrives, and I believe. I truly believe.

I'm the person that’s kind, considerate, even stupidly so, but that’s where I'm adapting. Each of us, every single person, you, the I, the we in this equation, can make the world a better place. It’s not as difficult as math, or the simple moment where you meet the person of your dreams in a crowded room, it’s the more or less of how you make it.

I'm holding on, to a dream that faded the very second a word was spoken. It’s not the first time, probably not the last, but that’s the very adventure that makes a poor boy like me feel alive. Bath me with flames, melt the very skin away from my body, take everything from me and, eventually, I’ll rise stronger than I could ever envision. This is within all of us. The moment we fell, hurt ourselves as children and the second we looked for acceptance, is the moment that we realised that we can all dust ourselves off and continue.

It’s that simple. It’s as easy as that. There are millions of television episodes, within this world of ours. Some tragic, some upsetting, many funny and the many reminding us that we’re not alone. When I'm standing there, naked, in front of a mirror, I don’t see my own body as I see a suit for the very person that hurts, that feels. I'm not my lips, I'm not my face, I'm the thoughts within and they’re all that matter. I also see… pain. Just look into my eyes and it’s there, it’s alive, but just like the episodes we watch each and every single day, we can place these moments of our lives into such an episode. It’s done, it’s over, the 45 minutes neatly packed into a moment to remember in the weeks to come.

I'm currently writing the final subtitles of the past few weeks. I'm not happy with the episode, it hurts to write such things, but it’s life and the next episode will be stronger. Larger. Embracing, enthralling, the adventure meant to steal hearts and remove all clothing. There will be talking, lots of talking, as well as, finally, love making. I apologise, I refute the ideals of others, but this world without passion is nothing at all. It’s empty, it’s vacant, a space to rent for desolation and emptiness. Just another chance to try to grasp another fleeting moment, of frail happiness, without realising what we've let go of.

No more. Nothing less. Not in this episode. It will start with ashes, a lone figure, as stated, rising from the same ashes he’d visited before. This time, he’d searched that bit deeper, realised, fixed, complimented the moments within his structure. He’d solidified, resolving, not wishing to preach of a sanctuary for all, as this is his moment. Only when you've been stripped bare, removed of all the covers, can you truly create a nest for your love and emotion. I'm there, still writing, mind tinkering, heart thinking, waiting for the start.

I'm excited, with the energy that I have, which isn't enough but acceptable for now. You've read about the phoenix, you've heard about the Island, but that was then and this, right now, is the start of something new. Too many people hide, too many are afraid of finding something within them that will set them free, but me, I, we… can be so much more.

Stepping from the ashes, the old skin of my life turned to dust around me, I smile and finally open my eyes. Only a little, only a small amount, as I'm going to walk before I run. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, the old me is no more. 
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Hand on my heart, to all that have listened, to all that have helped, I thank each and every single one of you.

Wednesday, 7 November 2018

Paradise


The twisty smooth road disappeared around a corner, into the distance, as the powerful car easily handled the turns. A quick left, a small right, eventually leading to the long climb up the mountain that he’d driven upon many, many times. Life, for him, was amazing. Easy. A breeze. The same kind of breeze that currently moved his tailored hair. The view above the car, a crystal-clear blue with not one cloud in the sky, ensured that he kept on the designer sunglasses. No expense spared, never holding anything back, he’d lived this life for many, many years and enjoyed every second.


As a child he’d dreamed, imagined a world where you could work towards what you wanted, desired, albeit not quite knowing about any type of desire at that age. His dreams, back then, were pure, often poetic, laughed upon by his Mother and Father. They’d secretly idolised his view of life, wondering if they too should think of such things, but back then times were simple. Easy. Sparse. Moments to be missed amongst the long forgotten, but easily recalled, hugs and kisses.

For a second, he allowed a smile to shine through his chiselled exterior. A business man, that once was, dealing with the high factor of life and all the money that it brought towards him. The broker, the deal maker, the linguistic challenger of thoughts and master of making sure that everyone, absolutely everyone, got what they deserved. At times it had been tough, dealing with the devil, the middle man, as well as the person who didn't have much in life. Each time he’d ensure that the lowest common denominator received far more, than whatever the worth. The rich would always stay rich, when smart enough, while the poor were simply happy with what they had.

The view moved as he neared the mountain top, the three sixty view usually making visitors gasp in awe at such moments, but in his case, he’d seen it all. At the age of twenty-six he’d visited the beautiful Island of Bora Bora. By twenty-eight most of the Fiji Islands. He’d made an insane profit while attending a Las Vega seminar, and been delayed by three days in Dubai. Each place, each destination, beautiful, a veritable luxury desire, yet all the same. The bricks, the people, the many, many faces, all simply dissolving into the history of his life.

The car revved as he arrived at his destination, his main home within this world, as he pressed the button to cease the engine noise purring behind his ears. The door opened and, as he stepped out of the car, he pressed a button and walked away as the soft top appeared from the concealed compartment, closing and locking the car. Another button press and his front door opened.

Walking into the front room, the slight breeze flowing into the open space, he embraced the chance to feel the cool air around him. It had been an advantageous day, a day of clarity, yet the view in front of him offered no solace. Leaning against the solid wooden beam, in the middle of the room, he kept his gaze looking outward, thinking, demanding that his mind stop. He adored this view, loved this setting, wouldn't and couldn't let this go, but things had to change.

Since the age of 32 he’d searched for something, something that money couldn't buy. He’d had his moments, his affairs, his lovers and his partners, but none of them mattered. He’d thrown away the chance to earn another million pounds, the previous month, but that, to him, was worth it. He needed nothing more than what he had. He desired but his own company. He was, above all, an accomplished person within his own small world.

He didn't care about the car. He didn't care about the expensive watches or the idiotic paintings around this building. He didn't consider visiting nearly every corner of the world a boast of success, or a manner to which his pride could be boosted, as pride did not feature within his mindset. He’d seen the most precious moments within his own life, the birth of a child, the loss of another. He’d spilt his own blood through his very tears, but all of this in front of him, every single second, was not considered paradise when the only thing missing within his life, was the paradise of kissing her lips. 

This, above all, could not honestly be purchased with money. This, to him, was the real paradise which he could no longer have.
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Monday, 5 November 2018

Soul


Frank twiddled the connector, his final check, despite already checking twice in the last few minutes. This was his life’s work. This, to him, was everything. The accumulation of 25 years, once hidden, suddenly brought forward and considered to be the most important project currently envisioned around the world. He assured himself, placated his growing anxiety, that everything would go as planned.

Looking across the wide room, to see what Phillipe was doing, he muttered various words under his breath. He’d worked with Phillipe for the last 2 years, despite preferring to work on his own, but circumstances changed, places changed, projects grew in importance and more. He had to embrace change, he knew that he adored his work, but the results were of the utmost importance and that, all on its own, was where they were heading.

Phillipe, finishing whatever he was working with, placing the spanner onto the table at his side, turned to look at Frank. Nodding, a thumbs up, which signalled that they were ready. The large clock, just above the eight large screens, in front of the both of them, neared eight pm. Only a couple of minutes remaining before they embarked on their dream.

Phillipe appeared alongside Frank, both looking across to the military policeman, still wondering if he actually spoke. Ever. Even once. “Are we ready?” Said Frank almost whispering.
“We are!”
“Are you triple sure?”
“Yes?”
“Sure and sure?”
“If a small amount of pressured gas can escape a 2 bar conduit then no. Otherwise yes.”
“No need to get all stroppy.”
“Don’t worry. It’s time!”


Both Frank and Phillipe dusted themselves off, brushing their shoulders and, moving across to the main platform in front of the televisions, they waited the few seconds before the screens flickered to life. In front of them appeared the President of the United States, Chief of Staff and other respected members of government. This day, this moment, was truly an hour for the both of them. Frank’s smile beamed, despite his nerves, but that wasn't going to stop their greatest achievement to date.

“Hello,” stated the President, “please introduce yourselves and bring us up to speed with the current understanding of events." 
“Certainly Mr. President,” replied Frank with his best accent., while pressing the button on his laser pointer. The display behind them appeared. Frank, moving closer to the screen, started to inform them of the current situation. He’d been there, visited the various locations around the world, where people had initially been institutionalised, declared insane, for their multiple personalities. He’d studied them, spoken to them, with each person seemingly sane with valid multiple persons living within their minds. It was a mystery, a modern marvel, that could easily be overlooked.


He’d been there when the first multi-billion corporation stake-holder experienced the same circumstance. Multi-personality defect, ‘MPD’, as it was eventually known, with this case also being pushed under the radar to keep the situation under control. After multiple cases he realised that the mind, as strong as it could be, would and could eventually break. He knew that there was layer upon layer of information stored but, due to all of this, he’d never realised how much.

Frank finished the introduction, informing them of the first eleven thousand cases, all appearing over the last two years. The human race had visited the stars, other planets, yet the actual mystery was still the mind. Today, due to their work, a mystery would soon be solved or, at least, an explanation found. The President, nodding, as Frank carried on talking, looked at his watch and Frank instantly diverted focus from whatever he was blathering about, to the experiment.

Phillipe, ahead of Frank by a few seconds, was already tapping away at a computer. Frank walked across the room, stopping in front of three males strapped to metal tables, all upright, awaiting their fate. “As you can see, Mr President, we have three test cases for you today. We have an able-bodied test subject, subject A, subject B, who is also able bodied, as well as subject C, who is in a coma kept alive by a machine. Each subject has accepted the test case and has agreed to… leave the test area.”

Phillipe, walking to the side of the test platforms, pressed a red button and watched as the blue liquid moved through the tubes into the right arm of each subject. Frank, continuing from Phillipe, informed the watching representatives of the liquids function, to monitor the energy emitted from each person, once the test was under way. They were ready, finally ready, to proceed. Frank looked across to the guard, nodding, knowing what would happen next.

The guard walked across the room, removing the pistol from his side holster, handing it to the second subject. From another side holster he removed his other pistol and aimed it at the first subjects head. Phillipe, not happy with what he had to do, stood beside the life support machine, placing his finger onto the off switch. Ending the lives of three people, no matter the situation, did not come easy to Phillipe, but science seldom questioned the motives of progress.

The room fell silent. Deathly silent. Anticipation, fear, adrenaline and anxiety all flowing from Phillipe and Frank. “Proceed gentlemen,” said the President. As soon as the words left his mouth Phillipe pressed the off switch. Subject B, after placing the gun into his mouth, pulled the trigger and the guard shot subject A in the head. All dying, almost instantaneously, as Frank and Phillipe briskly walked over to the main bank of computers.

The monitoring equipment moved into place, the gigantic dishes revolving from where they sat, above the three dead subjects. They both watched the screens, eyes wide open, the data being sent to the watching representatives. Then, right at that moment, Frank pressed another button and the room’s lights changed to dark blue. Phillipe’s mouth opened as he watched two of the subject’s auras shrink, to encompass the area around their now dead bodies, specifically the brain area.  In all their lives they’d never, ever, seen something like this happen. Travelling to new planets had led to new discoveries, which lead them here, but if it were not for the odd circumstance,s they’d never have realised this ever happened.

The aura, the blue mist, waited for a few seconds, before moving away from the bodies and heading down into the ground.  Frank and Phillipe, of course, did not miss the fact that subject A failed to have the same result.

Increasing the power of their monitoring equipment, Phillipe looked towards the screen that showed a view of the planet. They’d configured three incredibly large structures at the optimum location around the world for this event and, of course, they would know where the auras were heading. They watched, silent, the entire room silent, as both the spectral like entities headed down into the Earth’s crust. Through the upper mantle, the lower mantle, directly into the outer core before stopping within the inner core. Still shocked by what they were witnessing, both of their minds absolutely alive with notions, thoughts, as well as facts, they watched as both auras broke into smaller sections. They had no idea what this could mean, yet.

For a few seconds everyone simply stared, in awe of what they were watching, until slowly a few small sections of the aura started to move from the core. Phillipe activated the tracking features of the main orbiting satellites, knowing what might come next. Frank smiled at Phillipe, also realising what this could all mean. The computer replied with a beep, confirming the lock and trace of the aura segment. Moments flew, the room still silent with the occasional keyboard click. The aura nearing a location, not too far away from where they were all standing, stopped. The satellite, tracking the location, provided an exact address.

As the feed appeared onto all the screens a phone call was made, and units despatched. Phillipe knew, as did Frank, what would happen next. They’d know for over a year but couldn't state their findings without proof, or possibly being locked away. Frank knew that all life, no matter the life, be it an animal or human, had the capacity to exist outside of their understanding. He knew that there were areas, of the mind, that may never be explored, but he also believed that knowledge could be stored. Passed along. Kept.

“What do you make of the results Gentlemen?” said the President with a serious tone to his voice. Frank, looking at Phillipe, knew that he’d have to select his words carefully in the next few moments.

“Mr president, life has an energy, a knowledge, coded into every single cell within our bodies. There can be anomalies, but they are more to do with how we live our lives and the food we consume. An instruction manual is just that, with the growing process taking years instead of a simple building set. What we've seen here today is the bodies propensity to retain knowledge. We've seen the anomalies across the planet, with multiple personalities escaping, which means that the aura is a vessel that contains knowledge, carries it, returns it to the central source.” Frank, stopping for a moment, looking at Phillipe, who looked like he wasn't willing to add anything to the explanation.

Frank continued nonetheless, “All life on this planet is just that, life, with the planet being alive as much as we are alive. We have just witnessed a person’s collective knowledge being split, re-distributed, into any number of new life. The movement, back through the core, is more than likely a new life being made. Millions upon millions of new life created using a set of energy re-distributed again and again, which means…” Franks’s mind halted at the very thought of what he was about to say, horrified, shocked, stopping his thought process. He knew that he had to continue, “we are all part of the same energy, every single one of us. Subject A, however, was killed by another Human being and his energy died due to that act!”

Phillipe closed his eyes, the realisation that the human race was basically reducing the energy pool one by one, with wars eradicating the source exponentially, with his thinking quickly understanding that animals killing animals for food was not done with malice, hatred, or a lack or empathy. This could change everything, change the entire world, every single person realising that they were, more than likely, bonded and related in a way that transcended blood or view. Further bloodshed and killing would eventually, drastically, reduce the likelihood of new life on this very planet. Entire species extinct. One by one.

Phillipe turned to Frank, about to smile despite the serious connotations of what they’d discovered, when he noticed the guard appearing to Frank’s side. The blood splattered across his face, Frank’s blood, as he watched Frank fall to the side. He then froze as the gun appeared in front of his own face, then, darkness. The screens, one by one, switched off, leaving the President the only person remaining on-line. He addressed the guard, “Thank you Brian. You have done your country a great service today. You can imagine the chaos and life-threatening circumstance if this information were to ever see the light of day?”
“I do Mr. President!”
“After all these years, I knew that I could count on you. You know what to do now?”
“I do Mr. President!”
“Thank you Son, see you next week at the family dinner?”
“I will Sir. Thank you!”


The final screen switched off, leaving only the guard, who quickly dialled a number, before saying one word, “Quarantine.”

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Thursday, 1 November 2018

Slow


I can feel you, all of you, around me, moving so slowly that I can hardly breath. Each time I inhale, each time I even think of moving, I fail. I don’t want to move, be anywhere else, with anyone else, but right here in this moment. You’re right there, forehead against mine, looking at my eyes as I take your warm breath into my lungs.


We've done everything else, the fast moments of life, escaping into the past like some forbidden dreams long forgotten. We've held each other against the many places that life brought forth, so now, right now, this is what we've been working towards. The slow moments. The bonding moments. The place that we all so secretly desire.

The soft music, playing in the background, the pillows strewn everywhere, sheets mangled, lipstick smeared, clothes across the room, all part of what is to take place. I know that your name rests upon my lips, when we’re apart, just before I fall asleep at night. I delve into the mysteries of your life, those thoughts of yours, often so different than mine, but that will never, should never, bother me. I've dreamed of you, with me holding you so close that we almost become one. Singular, bonded, the strongest imaginable force within this world and then, just then, my eyes open. It’s the old tale of waking, into sunshine, with the same name upon your lips.

But I don’t care about that right now, as my fingertips move along your back, the soft supple skin teasing my every thought. I could hold you for the entire day, the week, for as long as you look at me that way. You know how I feel, what I want, need, cherish and respect in this world. You've heard my words, felt them spoken a thousand times upon your lips, so there’s nothing left to say other than this very moment.

Each time I'm near you, the same room, something just begs me to be where you are. I know the rules, the oxytocin release, the pleasure factor, the bonding mechanism, but it’s far, far more than that. The attraction, every word you say, even when silly, just increases whatever’s inside. It’s not all about the endorphin rush, it’s just you. All about you but, at the same time, I can agree, that this is what ‘I’ want.

Every single movement you make, my mind simply loses itself, falls into your oblivion, the place where I become yours and yours alone. You wash over me, cleansing me of doubt, of all thoughts of any other place or time. We rushed here, we preached before we practised, with this being the sermon of our lives. I need to know you, understand you, appreciate your buttons, your doubts, the fears of your world, your nightmares as well as desires. There’s nothing if we don’t communicate on all levels and this level, right now, is just as important as all the others.

There you go, being you, letting me, move you over me, with my hands holding your hips. The kissing increasing with ever intense furore. I need to taste your lips. Every single day. Every hour if I could. It might be exhausting, it might feel overwhelming but trust me, truly trust me, we’ll both float upon clouds by the time my affection is understood. I live to adore. I live to give affection and now, thankfully, I understand that I also need the same in return. Not as much, just… something.

Not too fast, slow things down as there’s no rush, kissing your neck just a little as you close your eyes. I'm here, never going anywhere, realising that you need this as much as I do. So close, such warmth coming from your body’s aura, tension building and the skin to skin feeling, encompassing the both of us. I can hear your heart beating, just slightly across from mine, trying to connect and be together. I don’t care about what we did before. I don’t care that I ripped open and destroyed your favourite blouse. I don’t care that we scandalously had each other in the back of the theatre. I don’t care that I kissed you… everywhere, down the steps of some old building. I just don’t care about any of that. I do care, to the depths of my very being, about this moment right now. We only have a few chances to feel, to truly feel. Right now, I can feel you, touch you, kiss every inch of you, without even bothering to think about the next few seconds.

Arching your back, just a little, you raise your body, placing me in a situation that I cannot withstand. I don’t want this to end. I never want this to end. But I don’t think I have a choice. Moving, your intense gaze destroying my thoughts, your body embracing the part of me that speaks in a different way, you move so slowly that, again, I lose my breath and also mind. I'm yours. Always. Always will be. A few more seconds, mere moments away, you smile as you understand and damn well know what you’re doing to me. Back and then forth, again and again, building, connecting, taking what you need. Your eyes close, the expression on your face saying all I need to know. The vocal noises becoming my drive, edging me closer, nearing that place we both want.

Neither able to withstand this slow moment any longer, giving in to the desire of two people needing, your hand joins mine and at that moment we both, urgently, completely… slowly… connect.


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Wednesday, 31 October 2018

Phoenix


The Empress stepped forward, leaving her thrown behind her, the two guards wary but committed to standing perfectly still until called for. Everyone, of course, within the room knew that such a thing would not take place as to cross her would mean certain peril. Samuel, born anew, stood in front of her adorned with the white armour of his new cast. A warrior, of sorts, charged with piecing together his own soul and heart.

The room, with mighty towers of white crystal, spanned upwards for many miles, a bastion of hope, a veritable fortress, of light and courage. Samuel knew that he had crawled here, a month previous on his hands and knees, reaching a place that he’d feared for over 10 years. The struggle, the real struggle, that we all feared, reached within only to crush his resolve and grace. He’d admitted defeat, he’d surrendered, but still managed to find this very sanctuary.

They’d stripped him of his valour, not that he’d had but a squandered amount, tore his thinking into shreds, then placed the commands that he needed. He had fought through the fire of his own mind, his very soul pouring out of him onto the cold, hard, difficult floor, as his eyes witnessed the very fire within flicker, fade, then die.

They say that you have to sacrifice everything, your very mind, before re-building a tower upon which to rise. He didn't want to rise, he didn't simply want to stand, as he wished to soar amongst the clouds. He desired to embrace the very person he should be, could be, if only he’d open himself to such brave healing. The world around him, unaware, selfish, brazen with attitude, scolding his way of safety. Laughed at him, denied him, yet all the while witnessing his heart break and wound his very sanity.

Standing, amongst the godly figures of old, he adored his Empress, worshipped her like no other. To him she was his heart, his very glory, the ever-present meaning of his grace and fortitude. He would die for her yet, at the same time, he would live for her as well. To him, to all of them, she had bestowed upon him the very gift of self-love.

Strong, defiant to the world’s grip, he stood staunch, awaiting her presence. With the grace of a feather softly flowing within the wind's embrace, she appeared before him and he fell to his knee. Head bowing, supplication at the ready, she did what she seldom fathomed possible. She reached forward, placing her hand under his chin, lifting his head and beckoned him to stand. He arose, appreciative of her offer, knowing very well that he was finally worthy of such moments.

“My Son,” she said with the softest tone, every word embracing him, “you were made for battle, forged from the inside out, but today you will find no war within. You will leave this place and seek love, firstly for yourself and then for others. You are light within this world.” Each word touched him, caressed his heart, embracing his devotion to such a person that could fashion, from him, a strong creation from such desecrated ashes. He had fallen, he had been crushed, yet still believed in the good of others. He had witnessed such things, he knew such things, while understanding the dark thoughts and suffering all around him.

He had tried to be pure, a beacon, the light flickering at moments, whilst always trying to help others. He held the scars, still etched upon his body, mind and soul. This was his chance, “Thank you Empress,” he replied, taking in the beauty from her loving, caring eyes. He stepped away from her, ready, able, despite still feeling some of the deep wounds inflicted upon him by the days of life.

“My son,” said the Empress, reaching out a hand, “You will have no need of weapons once you leave here. You will evade the darkness… please!”  Samuel, knowing exactly what she meant, placed his sword, his dagger, as well as his shield, beside him. Bowing his head, while smiling, he turned and stepped towards the edge of the realm.  He looked upon the world, below him, wondering, while realising, that this was but the start of many, many moments. His wings flew from within his back, flexing, escaping their captivity, ready to take Samuel upon a glorious journey. This moment, right at this second, the previous days and months flew into his mind. The turbulent fall, the crawl to safety, the weeping within shadows, the calling of names and, most of all, the burning fire that consumed his every thought. He could almost, right there, taste the ashes from where he’d arisen.

He stepped away from the platform, felt the air push into his chest, embracing the fear and flew. Today, upon this very moment, he would be the phoenix and rise again.

Tuesday, 30 October 2018

Surrender


I tried. I truly, truly tried, then failed. I raised the defences years ago, solidified them, moulded them, only to see them all fall within mere moments of a simply beautiful, little, kiss. I fell away, drifted, only to find that every waking moment wanted me to return to you.


I'm supposed to be the one that escapes such things, easily bruised, cut, but always managing to survive. I've seen all corners of the emotional scale, and I appreciate it all. The heartbroken, the mild heart-breaker, the wisher of love and giver of such affection, that I don’t even know the limits.

You said my name, light the flame, filled my eyes with your splendour and the rest was said and done.  The worlds we lived within, the places we inhabited, crashed together all at once and at a time of such tragedy.

I could love, truly love, forever and a day. I would hold you until my very heart broke away from my chest but that, that type of thing, is simply not allowed. I refuse. I state my concerns against such a thing. It is not for me or for the now. My grace within  this world is kept for the wondrous, the dreamers, the beautifully minded of this existence.

Shielded, shrouded with a mask of smiles and sunshine, I know what’s underneath, sleeping, waiting, denied the chance to surface into the real world. I lack fire, a flame, that moment that truly awakens a person into being. It’s okay, don’t worry, we’re all hiding from something.

Yet, no matter the shields, the capacity to shrug away the words and actions, I still managed to fall. Weakened by circumstance, the moments colliding into each other, I dared to move forward and hold a hand. It was held. It was held by such warmth that something moved within my chest. I ignored the fear, I denied the hope, suffering on so many levels that I couldn't see or even sense what was about to happen.

I fell. The angels wept for me. They prayed for me. They could see me in the dark room, huddled within a corner of my mind, replacing all fears and tears with the thought of you. My mind overpowered me, held me down, striped me of my strength and purpose. I tried. I fought as hard as I could but the damage was already done.

At this time in my life I craved an empress, not a mistress, to embrace my world. I can be all powerful, I can command my own life and actions but for once, for twice, I wanted to hear a commanding voice enliven my world.

But, instead, I landed upon my knees, looking into the stars, realising that all the majestic moments in the world had forsaken me by turning their backs to my plight. Maybe, just maybe, this was meant to be. I had healed, I had been broken. Naked, no longer able to hide behind any fear, as fear itself thrashed me to an inch of my own life. This. This is what makes a person. Do not look away from the demon within you. Face it. Embrace it. Overcome it. This is what I will do.

I can smile, right at this moment, realising the mistakes I've made and said. It’s too late. Truly too late to re-imagine the nightmares digesting my brain and life. What I can do now is wait. What I can do now is seek healing. With no defences left, no failings left to use, I will still crawl to sanctuary. I will never, ever, give up. No matter my state of mind. No matter the loss, the suffering, the moments where all I'm left with is tears and anguish.  I'm alive. I'm beating with my own heart and I will never, ever, give up. I have no platforms to rest upon and neither will I need such things.

You walked through my defences, as low as they were, embraced me, then erased me and the rest is history. No matter the moments that existed, no reason that I can think of to fall away again, I crawl to the gate, I bang upon the door and await my saviour. Today, when I embrace my heart and mind, I will admit, I will loudly proclaim to all who look upon me, then shout as loudly as I can…

“I surrender!”

Friday, 26 October 2018

Island


Day 1.
I woke, feeling different, in a place that I’d never seen before. The new adventure, the scale of things to come far from my understanding but very, very live and real. The sand, in my socks and covering my face, the warmth of the sun ignoring me, this place was my own little island. Picking myself up, weak, rising to rest upon my knees, mind racing, head spinning, the first instinct is shelter and right now, right this second, it’s what I'm going to find.

Day 2.
The shelter, of my own making, created with the rough understanding of survival and fear, helped last night. It’s acceptable, almost passable, but as long as it withstands the next few days it’ll be perfectly fine. I know that I need food, that clear water of life, which is my very next attempt at surviving this creation of my own. I'm not afraid, I'm simply aware, that I'm here and no panic or strife will help. I know that I'm anxious, the anxiety rising within my chest and blood but that’s okay. My body is telling me, informing me, that I need something. But, first, water and food. Without them I will suffer.

Day 3.
Today I learnt how to fish. Four hours. Four entire hours before I managed to catch the smallest little thing imaginable. It was a success, a victory, a moment of brief reprisal to this cold, barren Island I’m on. I know that there’s sunshine, I can see it, feel it, but it refuses to find me at this very moment. It’ll return, it’ll find me, as I'm that kind of person. Beat me, slap my face, say the cruellest things you can, as it’ll not defeat me. Although, I know, that only I can defeat myself.

Day 4.
I found a lone crab today. We played ‘pinch the toes’. It was fun. I laughed. I realised that the world, no matter how dry or desolate, cannot keep someone, anyone, from smiling at the silliest of things. There will always, always be moments, where your grace and fortitude shine through. Even if it’s from something so silly as this. I'm surviving. The fire is there, I know, as I need to cook the fish, but that only appears for as long as needed and then vanishes.

Day 5.
I opened my eyes to feel sore toes today. Mr. Crab must have taken my sleeping to assume that I'm still playing. Each day, waking early, my mind thumps, my mind racing, the never-ending torture of sand consuming the quiet and annoying my nerves. The sand will never, ever win. It cannot. It won’t. Solid ground will be found. Soon. Very soon.

Day 6.
Today I tied a small fish to a thin line of string. I say string as I don’t really know what it was. I waited, not for long, as the Seagull, whom I called Mr. Gill, arrived to take its gift of delight. Hesitant, screaming at the top of its voice, I moved the fish and Mr.Gill displayed annoyance. I'm so silly. I cannot deny this. I love to play. I’ll always be playful. It’s my innocence you see. Still intact, despite a few of the naughty things I've said, as well as done. This is my survival. This is me.

Day 7.
I'm surviving. I'm living. I'm still here, on this Island, this small place of mine. Today I found a phone, with battery life, so I decided to call my friends. They said that they missed me, adored me, loved me and more. It was a blessing, for the smallest of time. Their words fuelling me, embracing me, until the Island returned to its usual whispering winds of never-ending thoughts.

Day 8.
I decided that I needed rescue today. I could use the phone, I could ask another to join me, to become trapped with me, but that wouldn't do. I sat alone, on the beach, the crab minding his own business and Mr. Gill wanting fish. I gathered all of the wood I could find, from the boat that self-destructed sending me here. Fragments. Parts of my mind. Each wooden section a part of a bigger, more complicated picture. I know how I got here. It’s not rocket science, it’s not something far from normal, but now it’s time to realise that I cannot stay forever. That would lead to madness.

Day 9.
I only have a few days to go, creating my new method of transport, surviving each day on the scraps I can keep down, the memories still threatening my sanity. This place, this moment amongst days, is an awakening. I know where I am. I know how to survive. I damn well understand that nothing, absolutely nothing, will stop me from reaching the mainland again. It’s inevitable. It’s just ahead of me.

Day 10.
Another scratch onto the tree, another full day of anxiety within my body. I could almost get used to this, embrace it, create from it, but that simply wouldn't do. I'm one within a million people amongst their own small islands. The sand is now starting to warm. The Island is already changing, allowing me more space. I still refuse to stay here.

Day 11.
The waves, it must have been the waves, that smashed my boat into smithereens. I was standing on a platform, with others, a pedestal of my own making, sailing through this life and one by one, the waves hit me. Smashed me. Yet I ignored them. Kept on going, never looking back, safe on that damn pedestal. Then, one by one, the platforms vanished. All that was left was the crash. Now, right now, I need to create a new platform, without the damn pedestal, that can lead to the only platform I’ll ever need. Me, myself and I. I may want others, but need is something different. Something personal, private, a gift that’s special and only given to one other. I know exactly what I want and I will prevail.

Day 12.
It’s the last day. I refuse to stay here any more. It’s not for me. I'm not this person. I've struggled, been caught completely off guard, my heart exposed, that one too many times and now I’m ready. The reset is on the way. No more sand. I’ll say goodbye to Mr Gill. I’ll let Mr. Crab pinch my toes one more time, then piece together the fragments and treat them to a new understanding. I’ll resolve the cracks. I’ll remove the bruised wood. I’ll seal the exterior and move forward. There’s no way that anything can keep me down for long. I'm too alive. I'm too loving. I'm part of life and that’s what I intend to live.

After all, now that the 12 days are over, I realise that no person, Man or Woman… should ever be an Island.