Saturday, 17 October 2020

Fluff

Daniel, sat upon the old bench, looked out into the calm view ahead of him. The mild breeze, of course, reminded him that it was a positive decision to bring his jacket. The view, including the sea in front of them, featured a few perched boats upon the sand, as well as the various seagulls flying from point to point.

He’d been visiting this spot for the last few months, seeing as his Grandfather, Mr. Potters, was slowly advancing in age. He knew that time was precious and, upon each visit, he simply loved listening to all of the various stories that his family member presented. Many stories, on occasions, repeated themselves. He didn’t mind. He didn’t care, as the insight into another’s life was precious to him. Important. The essential moments taken out of his day, to brighten both of their lives.

Daniel’s Grandfather, sat beside him, chewed the sticky toffee bar whilst making various grunting noises. How he managed to chew such a bar, with a mouth full of false teeth, was beyond Daniel. Either way, the man genuinely seemed to enjoy the treat. Daniel smiled, glancing to his side, “You enjoying that bar, Grandad?” The man nodded, as he stuck a finger into his mouth, no doubt finding a little bit of toffee stuck to his gum.

“I am lad, I am. Good stuff this. Your Grandmother used to buy me a few bars when she went shopping. I do miss her!”

“I know Grandad, I know!”

Thomas, Daniel’s Grandfather, removed the fingers from his mouth, then rubbed the slobber over his jeans. Daniel shook his head slightly, amused, knowing fully that Thomas had no time for pleasantries of certain kinds, as he’d lived his life, paid his debts and endured the pain.

As Daniel returned his gaze to the view ahead of him, his Grandfather stood, placing the chocolate wrapper into his coat pocket. Then, for some random reason, Thomas started to empty his trouser pockets into his jacket. Item by item. Moment by moment. Then, once finished, Thomas pulled out the trouser pocket linings and started to slap the edges. Daniel watched as various bits fell from the lining. Fluff, random bits, string and more fell away.

Bemused, Daniel looked at Thomas, “What are you doing, Grandad?” he asked.

With a smile, Thomas returned the lining into the pocket, then sat down.

“I have another lesson for you Son!  Your mind is like your pocket. When you’re born, you don’t have pockets but when you do get them, they’re clean, empty, with the following years adding strength and understanding, to hopefully reduce the holes that might appear within those pockets. You don’t want holes in your pocket lad. Nope!”

Thomas, once again, picked at his teeth, eventually continuing, “You see, each bad idea, harsh word from another or our own mouth, creates fluff. Your pocket is supposed to be a safe place, that keeps you warm. Your hands are the working ways of your soul. You write, you create, you work. What happens when your nails are covered in fluff, lad? Can’t have that.”

Daniel nodded, expecting more.

“You have to clean your pockets Son. Remove the fluff. Clean pockets, clean mind. Imagine if you met a lovely lady? Chance would be a fine thing, with your haircut lad…”

Daniel laughed, as Thomas continued, “You wouldn’t want to hold her hand, when your own hand is covered in fluff now, would you? She’d think that you were a scamp. Can’t have that. Clean pockets, clean mind, fix the holes and keep your pockets safe and secure. You’ll have a better life that way!”

Daniel nodded, fully understanding the small adage spoken succinctly by his Grandfather. He’d never actually thought about it before and, if he were honest, he’d never checked his pockets for fluff, let alone tried to discover the fluff within his own mind.

Turning to his Grandfather, with a great big smile, as he reached into his pocket to grab another snack, he spoke, “Thank you, I shall keep my pockets clean from this point forward!”

Thomas pushed Daniel’s shoulder with his, “Shut up lad, and gimme’ another toffee bar!”



Thursday, 15 October 2020

Everything

There comes a time, within a person’s life, where they’re ready to actually embrace a soul. We’ve done all of the things we’ve done, experienced most of what a limited life can offer, with new frontiers being the only thing we long for. It’s a heavy subject, I’ll admit it, but some things are worth exploring.

We’ve made love, we’ve held someone as close as we could possibly manage, yet still felt disconnected. We drift, we embark, we secretly realise that the soul next to us is not the soul that we wish to evaluate any longer. The outward view, our own eyes constantly looking to ourselves to create validation, eventually and finally wants something that will last.

At a younger age, I’d advise any singular person to perfect themselves. We’re talking physically, emotionally and, if you believe, spiritually. Don’t rule anything out. The world is to drink from. The wealth of knowledge is there to be understood. Ignore the politics and politicians that wish to control society’s impending chaos. Forget the religions of woke agendas, or the definitions of the feminist/toxic masculinity crowd, as you instead come to an understanding of the sexes yourself. Religion is no longer valid within the society’s we inhabit. Controversial statement? Yes. Triggered? Why?  It’s an opinion. They differ, they change day to day, which means that an opinion should never have any control over your stability and inner peace.

Be… everything, find that balance, as balance ensures that you can hopefully see the world through caring, understanding eyes. Sure, understanding is one thing, but those eyes of yours should eventually understand how the world works and, through that, the manipulations of society, adverts, people, loved ones and the closest lovers can simply flow away from you.

Now, let’s return to the topic. How close can you get to someone? Can we really communicate, without words, gestures, or even from another room? Crazy, right? We’re made of energy, so why not. We’ve heard stories where people have known of events, as they’ve happened. We’ve finished off our friend’s conversations and, of course, we’ve felt their pain the moment they’ve walked in. We’ve undressed others with our eyes, but how about undressing a soul, for a change?

I have categorical proof that we can speak to another from many miles away. No, sorry, I’m not insane. How does radio work? We are beings of light, supposedly, allowing such darkness into our hearts that I can understand why we’re barely able to breath above the waters we create for ourselves. Think. Imagine. Place the news aside. Switch off the television or tablet. Sit by your window and look out into the world. Think, explore, travel and communicate.

Heck, it will at least provide each of us with a certain amount of calm, that we usually do not even know exists. Disconnect, to connect. Breath, touch, embrace with the aura of our minds. It’s not madness. It could even be called a scientific experiment. Tell someone that you love them, from a thousand miles away. Hold their soul within your hands, imagine that soul as a living, breathing entity and hold it close to your thoughts. Every single thing we do, every intention, has a repercussion. If you think those solitary thoughts, then that might actually become what you are. If we fear, then we manifest.

Yeah, I know, I might be coming across as a crazy person. I’m not. I’m just open to exploration. I ‘want’ to touch another soul. I’ve embraced many against my chest. I’ve held, I’ve loved and I’ve felt. At no point, did I explore further than the usual day to day shenanigans. Why not? We have nothing to fear, other than our own fear. We are powerful entities, even if we refuse to believe so. We can cause devastation, pain, anger and sorrow. The next moment, we can touch, tame, tease and kiss someone into a loved frenzy of connective energy. We are, or at least can be, everything and more.


Tuesday, 13 October 2020

Chaos

Twisting the cork, her fingers grasping the bottle as hard as possible, she winced, knowing exactly what would happen. The bottle brought forward a loud pop, the cork flying across the room as the Prosecco flew out from the bottle. Shrieking like a crazy person, she moved forward and poured the liquid into the two glasses, trying not to splash everything and everywhere.

Happy with the devastation, she stood upright, bottle to her side, nodding her head. “At least I didn’t get it everywhere!”  He laughed, a genuine laugh, greatly amused by the events unfolding in front of him. She was, in his eyes, his everything. She wasn’t perfect, to which he also alluded to his own person. Neither of them was supposed to be such a thing. Neither perfect, neither always wrong, but both perfectly right for each other.

If he could do all of this again, he wouldn’t, as he might miss the adventures of tomorrow, or the next day. He had the memories, the moments, the first kiss of many kisses and more. She moved her hair away from her eyes, placing the hair behind her ears. He leant forward, collecting his newly furbished wine glass. Sipping, gently, he simply looked up into her beautifully suggestive eyes. He’d always insisted that they called to him, from the very first day they’d met. The darkness within, being shielded by a smile that could melt the most stoic heart.

She looked at him, sitting there, with his gloriously presented jaw line, amongst the other facets that kept her awake that little bit longer at night. She’d gotten used to spending her nights alone, in her cold bed. Then, for some odd reason, he’d arrived. Through the chaotic mess of stability that she called her life, happy to be single, happy to ignore her own heart, he was there.

She’d tried all of her usual tricks. The past histories of events. The men, the few that managed to attract her heart, leaving, being held, allowed to let go. She’d played the games, the victim, the innocent, the avenging force or the survivor. None of that worked. He’d seen through all of it and, for some reason, pushed all of that aside, then carried her to his bed to hold her close. Her rubbish, her trash of events, meaningless to him. Her nights of crying or days of screaming at the world, all but the view from a rear-view mirror.

She collected her solitary glass from the table, also sipping the wine, as her mind sang the cacophony of words that seemed to betray her calm. She had her moments, that inner doubt, that seemed to creep from within. She couldn’t help herself. She wasn’t nasty, as she kept a moderate amount of calm, but still had to engage her demons.

“Why are you with me?” she asked, stepping over the small glass table, to straddle him on the sofa. She placed the wine glass back onto the table behind her, leaning back, to return her eyes to his. She smiled, the vulnerability starting to show ever so slightly.

He listened to her words, knowing exactly what was happening, despite being asked the same question numerous times over the last few weeks. He didn’t wish to re-iterate such things, but explanations were required and that was exactly what he would provide. He also didn’t wish to play games, to push aside emotions, feelings, or the traditions that were played within each and every relationship, despite wishing for life to proceed.

He kissed her, with a small kiss, a quick kiss, that still expressed meaning, before answering, “I could use a thousand different words. I could say that you have a beautiful smile, or that the things you say make me laugh, or that you have a backside that I just want to grab.  When all of that is said and done, I look at you, or I hear you… and I just don’t want to be anywhere else. It’s as simple as that. Anything else is pointless.”

She smiled, moving forward to kiss him in return for his answer. He returned her smile, as he wrapped his arms around her, moving the both of them from the sofa. Scooping her up, holding her tight against his chest, she moved her legs around him and felt his warmth.

She placed her head to the side of his, as he walked towards the stairs. He knew that he had one thing to do, with that one thing being to love the woman that he was with. Within that, he had to withstand the storms of life, to be all that he could be, as well as understand that within her, from a lifetime of events, existed a chaos unlike any other. He accepted his task with a smile. After all, the best loves could often arrive from the ever-expressive lives of the colourfully chaotic.

 
---

Apologies for vanishing for awhile. The world seems to be going a little insane.

Tuesday, 1 September 2020

Ghost


There’s a voice, resounding within my head and, possibly, heart. I can hear you, whispering, just out of reach and recognition. I know that it sounds odd, maybe even bizarre, but I don’t wish for the voice to ever, never ever, stop.


My friends say that I should listen to their advice. Heed their words. Listen to their notions and oceans full of their way of doing things. They’re all the same, uttering the remarks with their side glances. I see them but once I hear your voice, I fall into that silent, deafening, trance that holds me together.

My heart aches, it made its stake, paid the price and ventured into the gamble of you. I lost. With each new day, with each new morning, we place our bets and roll the dice. It is inevitable. It’s decided for us. We’re trapped amongst the daily grind and workings of the modern world. We’d escaped, even for the smallest of times. We laughed, we loved like that fire filled furnace, our energy being each other’s smile and exposed modesty.

The way we held each other, the moments we shared, unlike any other couple’s beating hearts. We were within the unison of souls, the ending somewhere off within the distance of our view. I could have held your hand until my very skin faded to dust but, instead, the world decided. For us. With us. Against us.

I sat upon the grass, saying goodbye to your very soul, feeling your soft fingertips embrace my face one last time. It hurt like hell. It burned my very soul. It closed my eyes to the world and places we’d visited. I found no solace, no solution, no way forward until the day you spoke to me again.
Our crazy life. The moments. Eventually, one day, I’ll escape and run away from all of this, everything about you, but until then, I’ll exist with the ghost of you by my side.

Monday, 3 August 2020

Maze


I know that I can fly, as I’ve seen my very own wings expand to feel the wind within my soul, despite the ways of the world. I feel that what once was, will never, ever, be again. I’m grounded, far more stable than I’ve ever been, despite the wondering motions and notions of my very thoughts. I’m often a blank slate, ready to be written upon, wiling to participate and prevaricate if it brings a smile to your face.


I’m wondering and wandering through the thoughts of life, seeing the lefts, feeling the rights and moving forward no matter what’s said. I have little choice. Move, step forward, or be left behind. Life is an ever expanding, changing, energy filled maze and I’m understanding more and more with each given week. I’m glad, ecstatic, over the moon and feeling the universe, as I’m still allowed a new day whenever I open my morning eyes.

The mighty hedges that I once looked over and upon, are rising and rising as the days and nights become colder, as well as longer. There’s an age for all things, a moment for all words, with my own maze reminding me that the end might appear sooner than I’d actually like. We’re frail, we’re mortal, with red true blood that can pour from our veins despite our grasping hands fighting more than they really should. There’s karma awaiting each of us, depending on whichever route we explore and, more often than that ‘not’ we’re told about, some escape this world with their sins never admonished.

Some with to escape this type of world. The ups, the downs, turning into lefts and even more rights. I hear your smile despite no words leaving your lips. We’re old enough, wise enough, wicked and silly enough to read each other’s minds. We can run, we can hide, but the maze continues, nonetheless.

There’s only one way out of this place for any of us. We could own the very world, the fastest cars, the most flash items created by magnificent hands, but we’ll still leave all of it behind. I’m not searching for the exit, despite the creeping hands of fate reaching for my very mind, body and soul.

I no longer care about the trivial moments of my past and, as we’re often reminded, the future is tomorrow and seldom even registers. I’m happy to still explore, with each breath being paid attention to. I’m eager, willing, ready and able to run through the many twists to find the turns. To the left is a heart, to the right is sadness and most of all, they will all eventually fade.

I’m happy. I’m secure. I’m not afraid and that’s the most anyone could ask for. There are times when I even place my hand onto the wall in front of me, to simply find the emotion within. To feel. I then smile, knowing, understanding, that each day is a gift and worth every second. I don’t care if I cry, or feel hurt, as long as I can continue forward. It’s all that matters. Time is precious. Time is vast. Time is all we have. Laugh, giggle, even use the word titter if it raises a smile.

Although I spend most of my time alone, I understand that the life we embrace is the one that’s intended for us. We can change the direction, we could re-direct our energies towards a new path, but that’s mostly up to us and the people or person that stands beside.

I’m going to explore tonight, within my dreams, ready to face the twists and turns of life. Smile, if and whenever you can, because as I’ve mentioned, there’s only one singular way that any of us are destined to escape each of our mazes.

Friday, 17 July 2020

Origami


The Master watched the students, reflecting, concentrating, deciding which lesson to teach them next. The silence surrounded him, with the pristine perfection of silent breathing calming each of them, as well as embracing their love for each other. They would become the future, the present being the very moment within his mind, as he taught them as much of his life’s wisdom. He was their catalyst to understanding, the appreciation, the worth of thoughts to each of them.


He knew that they would never become the same creature, as the standard life intended. They’d be soul based individuals, seeking knowledge and clarity from whatever or wherever they managed to be. Born, created, to flow through the world as one, as they witnessed the cruelty and brutality of the world. He unfolded his legs, standing, to open the drawer a few metres behind him. The twenty students, all calm, still reflecting upon their given task of removing all thought from within, remained silent.

From the drawer the Master produced twenty-one sheets of crisp, clean paper.

“Students,” he commanded, as each of them opened their eyes to address their attention towards him, “I have paper for each of you as we’re to learn a new lesson!”

The Master, returning to the same mat, sat down and folded his legs. Relaxing, focusing, he selected the top sheet of paper. With poise, as well as certainty, he removed a pen from his shirt and started to write a selection of words that appeared within his mind. He had seen so many events, during his life, despite his pious understanding and beliefs. He had heard words of pure hatred, as well as violence, that surrounded the world outside of the sanctuary. Each of the moments stayed with him.

He wrote his words, selecting them with intent. As the pen moved, the words appeared upon the page. Anger, danger, fear, doubt, selfishness, failure and ego all appeared upon the page. Lifting and turning the paper, he presented the inscriptions to his students as they all focused to view his written words.

“You can see,” he explained, “that I have written words that express negative values or learned exposure to the outside world. I can never be perfect. I can fail, falter and fall. As long as we are aware of such moments, we can become something more than our thoughts!”

He could see the enthusiasm increase upon their young faces. Eager to learn, needing enlightenment, with each of them yearning to understand the world beyond the high, sweet, sweet walls. They watched as he folded the paper, over and over again, with edges poking forward as well as to the sides and in all directions until, finally, the Master presented them with a folded impression of a bird like Crane. They smiled, the wonder lighting their small faces, as each of them suddenly wished to learn such a hidden skill.

“There are many forms that a page can create. There are many moments that will form your memories. Just like this page upon my words reside, I can take the pain, the negative aspects of my thoughts, to fold them into a new understanding. A new beauty. Words upon your mind’s page, can be sculptured, shaped, reformed into a delight of wonder.”

He looked at each of them in turn, wishing for his understanding and lesson to settle upon their minds for further understanding.

“Your anger, fear, doubt and pain can be understood, even appreciated, to make your mind stronger, healthier, as you overcome all of your own obstacles. You can then create a new person within you that understands your life as well as another’s life. You can fold your words together and create magic!”

The students looked at each other, their mouths open in wonder and belief in their master’s words. The Master smiled, nodding towards his Student’s appreciation for such a simple notion of thinking. It was a time of fun, of learning, for each of them. They would all write their own fears and doubts upon the page, as he once again stood to hand each of them a page of clear paper. They would learn, they would understand as each of them were taught the art of Origami.

Tuesday, 7 July 2020

Rainbow


Within my life, when taking into account all of the escapades, seconds, adventures and understanding revaluations, there’s always been rainbows. It sounds odd when you add the word ‘rainbow’, to a sentence as supposedly meaningful as the one above, but it works. We’ve all seen one or, at least, I hope that we have. When was the last time you noticed a rainbow?


I was a youngster when I first witnessed my first spectacle of colour. Bright and blue eyed, the world seemingly still a small place, with an imagination that has only just started to settle. The world presented a slice of beauty, a moment of wonder, with many questions quickly following.

Now that I’m older, I could state that we could all be a rainbow. Colourful, majestic, spreading smiles whenever we appear, but that would be far too obvious a statement. Whereas, as I think about it, maybe we are just like a rainbow.

The rainbow is an optical illusion. Beautiful, wondrous, with so many differing colours formed of red, orange, yellow, green, blue and even violet. Just like humans, who also present an optical illusion, can often be somewhat different once you move closer. One person observing from a slightly different angle, will see something different, even when the next person is but moments away.

Some pretend to hold colours as an aspect of beauty, yet hair colours often gather scorn, or worse. We all adore beauty, but push away differences such as a larger nose, with such blatant ease. We are all different, with many simply trying their hardest to be exactly the same as the next person. Life needs to be diverse. We need to be our true selves to enjoy what life offers.

The rainbow is not an object, with no real solid form that you can hold against yourself, along with no actual pot of gold being found at the end. Maybe this is a tale for life’s energy. The more you chase, the more life moves away from you. Unobtainable dreams are to be dreamt of, but wouldn’t realistic dreams be better accomplishments for each of us? We all chase the pot of gold, often forgetting that some plans need to take time and energy.

We are now living within a time where the colour of our rainbow skin defines us. Words such as privileged, supremacy, as well as wondering which lives matter, consumes some of our daily thoughts. Where has the beauty of witnessing a rainbow gone? Life simply does not need to be more complicated than wishing to smile. We work hard, we ask for safety and shelter from our own working hands, to which we provide for ourselves (mostly).

Each colour of a rainbow sits alongside its neighbour. The red cares not that blue is blue, or yellow is next to green. It matters not that the rainbow is not an actual object, as it simply exists upon a given day. We as people, as individuals, exist and can easily remove the colour variable or differences, to then simply accept whatever, for whatever it might be.

There is no issue. There should be no violence. There need not be demonstrations or life ending. All we need is to accept differences, to see beauty in any of the beautiful colours. We need to turn off the televisions. We need to escape the media. We should, upon a magical day, rise from our safety, venturing forward to easily, simply, lovingly, go outside to see all of the wondrous rainbows that are beside us each and every single day. Life has been complicated to an unnecessary degree.

I asked you when the last time you noticed a rainbow was because, as time moves forward, we need reminding… that rainbows exist.