The problem with theories as with just about every discipline or industry in the world is putting them into practice.
The problem with theories as with just about every discipline or industry in the world is putting them into practice.
My blog? Snippets of random thoughts, ideas, beliefs, opinions, views, hopes, dreams and fears. No chronological order, no labels, no category. Just pure feelings coming from the heart. It may be vague and irrational at times but always real, honest and true. This is me on a plate without embellishments and trimmings, take it or leave it. It may not be everyone’s cup of tea but I don’t know any other way. I can edit my words but not my thoughts and feelings. And even if I could I would not. What is the use of having a voice and your own corner if you can’t say what you want? It is like whispering in your own house, afraid somebody might hear you. No, I can’t do that. I will always adhere to common decency and approach each topic politically correct but I would not dilute my writings so it suits sensitive ears and weak minds. I will never apologize for being myself. I know the path to freedom is not the easiest path to traverse, I have been on it since day one. Lots of hurdles but I can’t go off course, that would mean lying to you and to myself. I would appreciate if you walk with me down this road but I would also understand if you can’t. Not everyone is cut out for this journey. I will always be grateful I have met you along the way. These random encounters taught me a lot about life. I will continue this expedition with an open mind and an open heart as always. Maybe we will meet again someday. Take care and see you around…
“If a man wants you, he will come and get you.” ~ Unknown
This time something feels different.
The storyline began long ago—but we both have a history of not finishing what we started.
This time—I’m hoping you’ll take the chance to run your fingertips over every one of my soft pages, reading every single word—even those said in between the sweet subtext of refuge.
Because this time, for you, I am an open book.
So baby, if you want me—come and get me.
Come and surge through my door—because this time you know I’m ready for you.
Not just for the kisses that intoxicate us like the taste of electrifying absinth, but for the way you feel when we are together.
And while I may not know all the answers, something tells me, I inspire something different in you.
I am not professing to know the intricacies of your mind or heart—for one thing I’ve learned is, when you do want me to know something, I will.
And this time, I have no desire to rush you, or the endless amounts of time we could spend passionately working through the various endings to a love story, that we didn’t think we were ever going to read again.
I trust you enough to lead me.
That’s why this time, I’m leaving it up to you.
I think you know where I stand, and though I don’t have any conclusions about how this story will end, I do know the questions that I want to ask this time.
So, even though I want you, I’m not going to chase you.
If and when you decide that you want me, truly see what can grow in the most unlikely of places, then I trust you enough to choose the timing.
Although I can be a force to be reckoned with, I am more than that when I am with you.
And at one point I quaked in that role and fought against it, but now, it’s the pleasure of my simple undoing.
It is because of my strength that I need someone—yes, I said need—it is another thing I’ve learned this go around.
I do need someone.
I need a man, at times, to put me in my sweet place—not because I need to be told what to do, but because I need a man who is strong enough to know that I don’t really want to be so formidable.
I have lost my desire to lead.
Not that I will ever take a supporting role in my own life, but I also know that I don’t need to be in the starring role to make a difference in this world.
Because one thing I’ve learned is that I shine just as bright when I am quiet, with tears streaming paths down my soft cheeks. I don’t need to be the loudest, I can simply be myself and that is enough.
And though that may change on a daily basis—some days I may still roar, on most occasions I will simply just purr.
So, baby if you want me—come and get me.
Because I am a ripe peach, waiting for your teeth to sink into me, letting the sweet juices flow down your chin.
I am softness and understanding, just within your reach.
My eyes will tell you every sweet and bitter honesty—even if you don’t always wish to hear it.
Because this time, I’m not trying to be someone who I think you would want—I’m simply being myself.
While I may be filled with an endless array of contradictions, this is who I really am.
And I know myself well enough to know that anyone who truly wants me will come and get me.
And it won’t matter if a man knows all the answers, I am a question he can’t stop trying to figure out.
What may stand in the way or how ridiculous it may all seem, won’t matter to him.
If a man truly wants me, he won’t let anything stand in the way.
And, maybe you don’t really want me—maybe this could be all a game, one that I simply didn’t learn my lesson from before.
Maybe it is all about sex.
But, maybe it’s not—I wish to be judged for who I am now and not the crazy, train wreck of a woman who couldn’t look herself in the mirror, then I have to trust in the man you have become too.
I have no choice but to trust your words and the language of your eyes and hands.
So this time, baby, if you do want me—all you have to do is come and get me.
~Relephant Via Kate Rose
Lately, I seem to be swimming in a thick syrup, like honey or even better, sludge. Every movement is laboured, forced. Nothing is spontaneous or enjoyable. I lost my mojo.
If it means quaint, odd, strange, queer, eccentric, outlandish, bizarre, whimsical, then that is me. Oh, I have my own unique brand of droll self-mockery also. I laugh when I feel uneasy, I laugh when I see something terrible or read about hardship and misery. I laugh when I don’t feel good and I laugh when I’m sad. I have a very dry sense of humour and I am pretty ironic. You can say I am a droll little girl.
“All art is a kind of confession, more or less oblique. All artists, if they are to survive, are forced, at last, to tell the whole story; to vomit the anguish up.” ― James Baldwin
Did you ever hear the song “Beautiful in White?” If not, you’re lucky. This one is a torture. Worse than Mariah Carey or Björk (Yeah personal choices people, don’t get on your high horses) The song is flat and so annoyingly repetitive it drives me crazy. This one phrase in particular: “You look so beautiful in white, you look so beautiful in white, you look so beautiful in whiiiiiiiittte…. If I am in prison and they want me to confess to anything, all they have to do is play this song 24/7 and I will probably end up hanging myself.
But you know what’s remarkable about music like these? They get trapped in your brain and stick with you for days playing that one particular part you hate the most. Catchy songs aren’t always good people. See for yourself if you don’t believe me.
I learned to be cautious when dealing with people. Coming from an isolated background with only my immediate family for companions in an environment where no one had to lie and deceive to impress, we grew up as naive honest individuals with no boundaries; thinking that everyone is like us: strong yet vulnerable, what you see is what you get.
I (we) learned the hard way. The experience turned my siblings into one of them and they never look back. Somehow I managed to escape. Don’t ask me how. All I know is I turned inward and in that way protected my core from contamination. I am still struggling to survive in this world where hypocrisy and falseness are greatly rewarded.
I did try to belong. God knows I did. But being a copy of the majority doing the things I loathe and finding myself further and further away from the person I really am is a too high price to pay. I have chosen isolation once more. I’m still living there.
Daily Prompt: Gingerly
Vivian Greene once said: “Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass…It’s about learning to dance in the rain.” Sounds like a cliché (and it is) but by God, it is also true. We often encounter our true selves when faced with adversity. Remember the saying: When the going gets tough the tough get’s going? Another cliché right? But we all know that only those who have strong character and determination have the abilities to bounce back and persevere while others are left despairing and defeated when faced with life’s many challenges.
The truth is we have to learn to cope and survive if we are not ready yet to throw in the towel. We have to brave the storm and soldier on to come out on the other side in one piece. I admire those who managed and triumphed against all odds. It doesn’t have to be a heroic act (though I consider surviving in this world heroic enough) it could also be simply striving to come out from the darkest corner you find yourself in, crawl from the bottom and climb up and be the best you can be.
I know a family once who have lost a lawsuit regarding entitlement of some land and overnight they found themselves on the street. They have been evicted and their house demolished. The parents didn’t even have high school diplomas and their main income was based on buying and selling junks. Yet through hard work, resourcefulness, and perseverance, they have managed to weather the storm and come out of it victorious. Their children are all degree holders now and they are enjoying the fruit of their labor.
Likewise there was a boy who was so poor he used to wash buses in the night so he could pay his tuition fees. Most of the time he ate his rice with anything one peso could buy in his dorm room away from the other boarders. I reckon he was ashamed of his situation. Sometimes he played card games to finance his school projects. I suspected he even sold his young body a couple of times to get through high school. I still hope I am wrong. Fast forward to present day. He is now a civil engineer and about to settle down with his girlfriend.
You see now what I am talking about?
Haruki Murakami said: “And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.”
I wrote a blog post a while ago about soldiering hardships and obstacles. I titled it: The Art Of Dancing. A mentor said I have to expand it. Give more examples (like I did here) throw in some first-hand experiences to strengthen the credibility of my claims, etc. etc. I know she’s right and maybe someday I will do it. You can read the article here.
“It cannot be seen, cannot be felt,
Cannot be heard, cannot be smelt,
It lies behind stars and under hills,
And empty holes it fills,
It comes first and follows after,
Ends life, kills laughter.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien
Daily Prompt: Faint
THE REAL ME
I‘ll leave for a while but I don’t know for how long or where?
My fill-in will take over while I’m not there
She doesn’t laugh as often and her eyes aren’t quite as dark
Please be patient with her if she seems aloof to you
Her demeanour is serious and her social skills aren’t great
Instead of partying, she’d rather sit home and contemplate
Before you judge her and tell her she’s not fun
Remember she has a lot to do and she wants to get it done
I loathe coming back from trips like this, to undo her damage
I think she’s worse each time I leave (and it’s getting hard to manage)
This time, before I left, I wrote down traits of the real me
The things I am, the things I’m not, the things I long to be
So here it goes, written down in prose, my personality:
Loves to laugh, to dress with class, though simplicity is a need
learning to dance, longs for romance, and to smile is to succeed
A personal critic can lean towards cynic, perfectionist if you will
Has a sharp mind, should ignore it sometimes, listening is my skill
Nonconforming- music-adoring- perpetual little child
Loves dirty jokes and happy folks, and longs to just go wild
A leader of men, skilled with a pen, who finds it hard to bend
Blessed with a soul not much self-control can be anyone’s friend
My fill-in does not meet the requirements of this list
Inside her mind you’ll find only a trace of me exists
Sorry I had to go, I don’t know how long I will be
But please be patient with her!
Sincerely, The Real Me
They say none except for the half-rhyme lozenge which I think is a shape. But I don’t agree. I think there are quite a few words that rhyme with orange or at least will make do like arrange and disarrange derange strange and estranged prearrange disarrange multirange and all those ranges combination of words. How about rinse sense mince and lens? Does that make sense? What do you think? Can you come up with words that rhyme with orange?
Dear daughter, I know that you’re looking to see yourself in me.
But in truth, I am sorry that you are so much like me.
I’m sorry that I gave you a heart stronger than a thousand warriors because it will take you years to learn that not everyone loves like you do. It’s a hard lesson, and its scars gleam from you never giving up on what you truly desire.
There are moments that I look at you in this beautiful world and see you mesmerized by the simple brilliance of life unfolding. In these moments, my heart splits open a little bit wider for you.
I see your innocence and desire to help others, and I wonder when it will be that you first feel the sting of being used. I wonder if your faith will be tested in the world or if you will hold onto to your generosity against those who only know how to take.
I’m sorry that you see only the good in everyone.
Childhood is about seeing everything with wonder. You look around, and there is no evil, no danger lurking around hidden corners. It’s inconceivable that the greatest pains you will ever encounter will be at the hands of those you love the most.
I wish that I could instill all of my lessons into your warm heart, but I know that you need to learn on your own. I can spend days with you in the sunshine telling you life’s truths, but in the end, my experiences won’t necessarily become yours.
I’m sorry that you feel everything as deeply as you do.
There are caverns inside of your soul that ache to feel everything that this life has to offer. I can see the way that you feel compassion for strangers, and how you sometimes just stop to look at me as if I hung the stars in the sky. I can see the way that you are brimming with the ability to feel the world around you and with it, all of the heartache and passion it can offer.
You might have moments where you wish that this wasn’t so, and while I’m sorry that I have given this quality to you, in time I hope you see that it is truly a gift, not a burden.
Many parents delight when their children exhibit the same qualities that they have, but in my heart, I secretly send you a thousand sweet apologies, because even though one day I know you’ll gain strength from these attributes, I also know that the pain they can inflict could tear you in two.
And so, while I am sorry that you are so much like me, I also couldn’t be more proud of you.
I see the way that you forgive everyone around you with such a delicate tenacity, and how you already have learned to stick up for yourself and your needs. I see the way that you’re already so much smarter than I was, so much better equipped to handle the ways of the world, and in those instances, I know that there is no doubt you will one day learn how to use your wings.
While I may not be perfect, I am precisely the mother you need.
I may have given you my giant heart and sensitive soul, but I am giving you my strength too so that even on the darkest nights, you will know you can get through anything life may toss your way. And I will always be there, too.
You are my little warrior princess, my fairy, and most of all, my heart.
I know that you have heartbreak ahead of you, but I also know that you will change the world simply by loving how you do. You have a gift of lighting up the room just by being yourself; my only hope is that you won’t let any encounter change that.
As you grow older, the world will begin to tell you that magic doesn’t exist, and while I know that you may have your faith tested, I hope that you continue to wish on falling stars and believe in all that is unseen in this world.
“Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.” ~ Roald Dahl
I’m sorry that you are so much like me, but only because I know how hard this world will try to change you and at times break you. But more than anything else, I love you more than there are stars in the sky.
So, while one day you may strive to show how different you are from me, there is no doubt—nor has there ever been—that you, my sweet warrior girl, are my daughter.
And I couldn’t be more proud of that fact.
Author: Kate Rose
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