May 2016

People have baggage. People have belonged to other people once too, before they met you. People have as many memories, thoughts and feelings as you do. You’re not working with a fresh piece of playdough anymore – everyone you meet is likely to have been picked up, pushed and moulded a hundred times before they fell into your hands. And reminding yourself of that is so important. There are going to be things people don’t tell you, conversations they keep to themselves, and that’s okay. That’s real. That’s true to human nature. And that’s what I love so much: the intricacy of people. So why would I want to strip someone of the ability to be so?

Just because one may have open feelings for another, doesn’t mean they now owe the other anymore of themselves than they gave before. Your history doesn’t suddenly become their present. And their history may be something that seeps into their present every now and then; because we’d be naive to think as soon as something ends, that the door is locked tightly shut. It isn’t. And unless that door is intentionally opened wide again with the hope for a repeat of that history, their present does not need to map transparently on to yours. So let it be.

If a person is honest and truthful and respectful in their feelings and behaviours toward you, allow them to have their secrets. Allow them to give you the version of themselves they wish to be around you. That may be the best gift you’ve ever given them; the freedom to be whomever they want to be. Who are you to dig up a part of a person they may wish to never be true to again? People change (we are transient beings). People have an infinite amount of layers and channels of energy that they may choose to turn off or practice whenever they please.

That must be an aspect of being most true to yourself. Understanding, addressing and accepting (or changing) all the different capabilities you have. I say ‘capabilities’, in a sense of many aspects; capable to achieve, capable to be. Achieve a certain potential. Be a certain way. I believe it’s one of the most beautiful truths about humanity; one person’s intimate amount of capabilities, of ‘ways’ they can be, think, act and feel. And I think only a fool would believe they have the right to know all of that of another. Because each part, each way, each ‘capability’ is meant for the interaction with others who share that. That’s how we influence and grow with each other. The compatibility of capabilities.

Maybe we all have an equal and balanced amount capabilities. So, there’s no reason to feel hard done by if you don’t share one aspect of that with a loved one. As firstly, if you’ve done the most respectful thing and not dug, you may not even know of that part, and thus you can be beautifully ignorant in not knowing that you lack it. And secondly, if you’re truly meant to be, there will of course be a multitude of capabilities that you share with, and add to, that person. And also, the aspects he shares with another are no different to the aspects you share with, and benefit from, those who are not him.

16th December 2016

… and then I fell in love. Although arguably I’d been in love with that face as soon as I saw it. Oh those eyes told such a story, and I was so eager to turn the pages. Little did I know; I’d end up turning so many. Although I never quite got to the end, a story unfinished. Or so it felt. I’m now beginning to realise that perhaps the rest is better off being a story untold. For it’s the resting pages not yet turned that are allowing me to relish in perfection. Fairy tales are no novels; short and sweet and magical; floating by and landing soft kisses; soon to be blown away by the winds of change; unfortunately, not heavy-weighted enough to stay a reality.

23rd August 2017

Well, that could not have been more ironic. I stepped out of the house to clear my head, and I wanted to put on music. I’d panned to listen to a friend’s band ‘LOS LEO’, but my Spotify was ‘offline’. I noticed the first ‘saved’ song available to me was by the band ‘LANY’, whose style of music is almost identical. So, I pressed play. The song was called ‘Walk Away’. I didn’t recognise it.

“You and I would be just fine, if I was the one.
To stay the day and waste away, but I tend to run.
I’m too good to live in love. I don’t want to be.”

Now I am the opposite in one way – Love almost feels too good to live in, but I strive to. To live in love with everything, everyone. My love for life is currently consuming my whole being. What is beautiful is there to be admired, to inspire, to be loved. And there is so much beauty.

I think that’s why I fall in love quickly. If there’s a connection, a fire, a burn; I sense it. I live to feel. I don’t offer up that part of my heart to anyone. It’s only ever placed within an open palm. And if it’s just one finger that’s raised, revealing a small section (an inkling of an open hand), I will place a puzzle pieced part inside (an inkling of an open heart).

But I do ‘tend to run’. Run towards fire, roaring flames. Ignite me!
Will a ‘normal’ ‘safe’ path ever excite me?
I don’t think so.

Isn’t an element of being in love the fear of losing what feels so golden? That fear, that healthy fear, sparks fire. No matter how straight, ‘safe’, or ‘normal’ the path; the scattered embers burn the souls of your feet.

My feet are burning, but not through those shoes Cinder(F)ella. The shoe fits, but the souls are thick, and I don’t want to be protected by their rubber.

Oh, we were burning. Thick tall flames. We were going to rule the world. Introduced to my nearest and dearest, I wanted to show you off – you are amazing. But are we?
24th August 2017

“Hi Honey! Who are you and where do you come from?” Her name stitched on what I think was a Dog’s Trust collar around her neck. I was following my feet and heading to face the sunrise, when I heard the graceful pitter-patter of four non-human feet. I turned around. A Collie-type dog, with a smudged print on her nose and short old-looking fur, brown and black. In her mouth, she carried a piece of bread. I stopped to say ‘Hello’, which she received. We sat there for a moment, long enough for me to notice the collar and appreciate the warm encounter. “Whose are you?” I thought, looking around to see her owner. No one was there. She then turned around, un-phased it seemed, and trotted off in the opposite direction. I saw her again briefly, playing on the beach alone. Did she walk up just to greet me?

The world is awake. What more is sleep than a period of rest for the physical body? The brain being a muscle, a physical part encapsulating that which resides there. That which supposedly ‘makes us human’: The Thinking Mind. Maybe I was already rested. My physical body charged, full batteries! My brain always ten steps ahead.
I feel far calmer here,
than lay restless in bed.

How ‘Me’ do I feel when I’m with You?
Am I true?
Or am I just in awe of, and inspired by who you present yourself to be
to whom you think is ‘She,
is the one’. I’m not.

I don’t think we’re side by side in this. I think we’re one in the same, following dreams & aspirations, seeking love, success and someone to share that with. Both fascinated by one another, eager to imagine how our lives would spiral up that beanstalk, intertwined. With rapport already present before an awareness of the other’s existence, time spent together is effortless, and wonderful. No one can deny our chemistry, but what potion are we brewing?


Why am I constantly being told that the ‘high’ from the life I was living last year, can never be separated from the raw and achingly present feelings I have for the one before?
“No wonder you fell in love so quickly, look at this place!”
“It was extended holiday romance. Intense, condensed, unsure, and with an end already written.”
My life was romantic. I was in a twelve-month dream. However, it was my reality. I had created the dream in which I was living. I had created the romance. He was just a part of it. One quarter to be precise.

Now, my epiphany is this – that perfection, that “incomparable fairy-tale” can in fact be recreated. My life choice is to dream, to fly, to produce my work, to send that message. My life will be a series of dream and goals set, walls reached, and a blissful tango in between. As the walls are climbed, I will bask in the light of the horizon, gaze down with pride at the paths accidentally taken. Those will be my creations. If this soundtrack is yours also, then we will dance all night long. There may be many tunes, a broken record – I’m not sure who (or what) turns the tables, I’m just spinning. We all are. If neither disk is scratched and they complement each other, then we will sing. Loud and in harmony. I’m not sure who’ll you’ll be, or how many. I just know that I am Alive. And somewhere, anywhere; awake, asleep, swimming in the ocean or soaring through the sky, so are you.
2nd September 2017

As it happens, you are to crave the one you love. To love, is to want to crawl inside the other so you are tucked neatly inside their heart. To love, is to miss when you are apart. To be independent is imperative, but To Love is to love oneself with an additional spark of your significant other. “Stronger together than stronger apart”. I felt stronger alone. The knowledge that thoughts and feelings weren’t entering my head, or heart, as often as what would be expected from someone in a committed relationship, started to consume me. I was unhappy in my content state, because I knew my title as a Girlfriend was misplaced. Someone at home was happy alone but thinking about and missing me. I was on the other side of the world, terrified by my empty mind. For the first time in a long time, everything felt still. I sat alone, feeling free. Suddenly I would be reminded that there was someone else I should be thinking of. This realisation wouldn’t enhance the happiness; the door of commitment would open and in flooded the guilt. Uneasy with the knowledge that being in a relationship jarred against this new-found sense of freedom. How could I ever mirror the devotion being gifted to me, when the fuel inside of me was burning clouds of smoke that whispered ‘run’.