2015 April PAD Challenge - Day Three

Today's prompt as part of Writer's Digest 2015 April Poem A Day Challenge is: A Machine Poem

The Thought Machine
Instructions:
1. Open and Turn On Your Mind
2. Insert Daily Gratitude For Optimum Results
3. Check Feeling Centre – Standard Options apply.
4. Choose To Increase Or Decrease Feeling For Desired Effect
5. Your Machine Should Produce in Excess of 60 000 thoughts per day regardless of Feeling Centre.
6. You May Find Yourself Drifting Between Your Thoughts and Feeling Centre, Check Your Settings.
7. Be Aware of coming in contact with External Stimuli in your environment. This Will Greatly Affect Your Thinking Machine as well as your Feeling Centre.
8. If your Feeling Centre gets stuck, check in with your body settings.
9. If Thinking Centre Shuts Down, Reconnect Your Body.
10. Choose the Breathing Function.
11. You May Find That Your Thoughts Will Slow Down – Give Your Thought Machine A Chance To Reboot.
12. Go Back To Step 1.

2015 April PAD Challenge - Day Two - Secret

This poem is part of the 2014 Writer's Digest April PAD Challenge  in which every day of this month there will be a poetry prompt. It's an opportunity for those of you wanting to get your poetry published (although there are no guarantees) and also to have your poetry seen by other poets which is always interesting in terms of feedback. Here's to a month of poetry!

Today's prompt is: Secret

Girl Code

In unison they giggle
And it might as well be High School all over again
Time has moved on but the subject matter is still the same
They squeal in delight at in jokes about pop culture that I don’t find funny
We share the same age and gender but that’s where it ends
I play along with a passive aggressive smile
They have no idea what world I’m from
The never ending small talk
And the constant competition makes me weak
They ooh and aah at the sparkly ring on her finger
Like it’s supposed to mean something
And as they contemplate the right hashtag for their latest selfie
I secretly disappear into the silence
Safely tucked away in my mind,
I can breathe.

2015 April PAD (Poem A Day) Challenge - Day One

After much procrastinating, I'm back. I've been writing in other contexts, just not for my blog. I find it's easier to write for myself in a personal capacity when I have some sort of a structure or goal. I also love creative challenges so therefore I've signed up for the Writer's Digest April PAD Challenge (You can too!) in which every day there will be a poetry prompt. It's an opportunity for those of you wanting to get your poetry published (although there are no guarantees) and also to have your poetry seen by other poets which is always interesting in terms of feedback.

Day One's Prompt: Resistance

As I wait for a sign that isn’t coming
I’ve become an expert in resistance
If I was better I would
If I stopped making excuses then sure
If I could hear my inner voice rather than my inner critic
Just. One. Damn.Time.
Maybe
But I’m not perfect
So the words stay dormant
And I stay stuck
As I watch life
As it passes me by

I'm crying as I write this. It's often those that give the world the most happiness and laughter that are dealing with the greatest sadness. I will forever be grateful to this comedic genius for all the beauty and happiness he brought to the world. For his wonderful stand up comedy and his incredible sensitive portrayals of characters both fictional and real. You will be missed and you were loved by so many. I'm so sad that you ended your life far too soon. I'm so upset that you couldn't feel the love that the world had for you for yourself. 

Thank you for Good Morning Vietnam
Thank you for Dead Poets Society
Thank You For Awakenings
Thank You For The Fisher King
Thank You For Hook
Thank You For Aladdin
Thank You For Mrs Doubtfire
Thank You For Jumanji
Thank You For Jack
Thank You For The Birdcage
Thank You For Good Will Hunting
Thank You For Flubber
Thank You For Deconstructing Harry
Thank You For Fathers' Day
Thank You For Patch Adams
Thank You For What Dreams May Come
Thank You for Bicentennial Man
Thank You For A.I.
Thank You For Insomnia
Thank You For Death To Smoochy
Thank You For One Hour Photo
Thank You For Happy Feet
Thank You For The Butler 

I've been reading some truly insensitive comments online about the fact that Robin Williams took his own life and how he had a long life so therefore they only find it tragic if someone young does so?! I wouldn't normally be so personal online but who knows, maybe this will help someone, somewhere be less cold. It's hard enough dealing with depression and then having the people around you, not understand what you are experiencing makes you feel even more alone. Having battled depression since I was a child and been suicidal myself (about 10 years ago), the darkness that surrounds you on a daily basis for years eventually gets too much. It's not something you can just 'shake off'. It's all consuming. Your thoughts and feelings act against you. All you want is for the constant pain to end. Imagine having the worst day of your life emotionally and then put that on repeat every single day for years. You are alone in your loneliness. You are trapped in your melancholy and can't feel the warmth of those reaching out to you. For anyone who has felt these feelings of hopelessness, this is not a message that is pro-suicidal at all. I'm still here, I'm alive and kicking and so happy to be alive despite the daily tragedies in the world. I found my way back to the light with the support of many others and the desire to keep fighting the darkness.This is merely an attempt to try and express what depression can feel like for those who don't know. I think David Foster Wallace said it far more eloquently: “The so-called ‘psychotically depressed’ person who tries to kill herself doesn’t do so out of quote ‘hopelessness’ or any abstract conviction that life’s assets and debits do not square. And surely not because death seems suddenly appealing. The person in whom Its invisible agony reaches a certain unendurable level will kill herself the same way a trapped person will eventually jump from the window of a burning high-rise. Make no mistake about people who leap from burning windows. Their terror of falling from a great height is still just as great as it would be for you or me standing speculatively at the same window just checking out the view; i.e. the fear of falling remains a constant. The variable here is the other terror, the fire’s flames: when the flames get close enough, falling to death becomes the slightly less terrible of two terrors. It’s not desiring the fall; it’s terror of the flames. And yet nobody down on the sidewalk, looking up and yelling ‘Don’t!’ and ‘Hang on!’, can understand the jump. Not really. You’d have to have personally been trapped and felt flames to really understand a terror way beyond falling.” If you think even for a second that you might be struggling from depression, tell someone. Tell someone who you know is sensitive or empathetic. Depression tricks you into feeling immense shame and that you are truly alone in the world. You aren't. There are people who love and care about you. There are people who have been through the same things as you and are still here and found happiness. You don't have to suffer alone. There's so much to live for. 

Thank You For the Laughs and the Tears, Robin. You will forever be missed and loved!

Here we go again...

                             

                                                   

                                                      Image Found on weheartit.com

 I've had such a strange week. I've had a lot of negativity come my way via Facebook, email and messages. One from a friend, one from someone I hardly know and one from an acquaintance. The comments made were rude, egotistical and coming from a place of bitterness. Part of me thinks I'm being too sensitive, that I should just toughen up. After all, this isn't anything new to me. I've been on this earth long enough to have had decades of rejection, oh the drama of it all! I started my day driving to a meeting while crying because of rejection. You see, I have a long history with people excluding me socially. It started when I was a child and to be honest, seems to be a recurring theme in my life. I'm the perpetual outsider and part of me has made peace with that. The only problem is, is that when I do make the effort to put myself out there and make new friends ( which doesn't happen often) if I get rejected, I take it hard. I get taken back emotionally to that place of  playground bullies and tears cried in the bathroom at break time. My adult mind tells me to shut down. To put my walls up. To cover this sensitive heart of mine up with anger. Pfffft! I don't need them anyway! Lucky me! One less person to worry about! And yet, I still found myself crying.

Why the tears? I was woken this morning with a message on my phone (charming!) from someone telling me that they no longer wanted to be my friend. Apparently our friendship values don't match. Granted this person is going through a big change in her life, maybe it's hormonal. Maybe it's projection. Most of the time when someone is that cut throat, it usually is. So there I am analysing the message over and over again. It was a polite Fuck You with a smile. A kiss at the end and wishing me well for my future. I don't get it. This kind of thing does my head in. Words are SO important to me. WHY WOULD YOU BE SO CRUEL AND KIND AT THE SAME TIME?!!! Apologies for the caps lock. Ahem. I haven't known this person that long - less than a year to be exact. They did make an impact on my life though. I think all of my friends do, otherwise why bother having the friendship? I take my friendships seriously - too seriously? Probably. I'm the wear-my-bleeding-heart-on-my-sleeve-oh-I'm-sorry-was-I-dripping-bloody-intense-emotion-all-over-you? friend. I'm the you-can-call-me-any-time-of-the-day-or-night-and-I-will-be-there-friend. I'm the friend who sat with you when you got locked out of your flat one night in the cold. I'm the friend who just held you for hours while you cried after your mother died. I'm the friend who came to your grandmother's funeral having never met her but knew you needed me there for support. I'm the friend who drove you home when you were too drunk, you vomited all over my car and I said nothing. I'm that friend. I'm also apparently an emotional punching bag. Having a bad day/week/life? Send it in my direction in a passive aggressive message. I won't even retaliate. I'll probably even forgive you, given half a chance.
Hopeless romantic? Not quite. I have a love/hate thing going on with humanity. Hate to love you, you incredible, terrible, fascinating,cruel,wonderful,dangerous,horrible, lovely humans.

I could have done without out that rejection this morning. Or maybe it was meant to be. Maybe one day, with hindsight, I'll think of what happened and it'll all make sense. Maybe. Either that, or I'll find myself in tears again.

DigiWriMo - Day 4 - Be Brave!

If you had told me at the beginning of this year that I would be a published writer and that I would have been invited to take part in an exhibition as a poet, I would probably would have rolled my eyes at you. Me? Be a writer? Oh please. Even though I have been secretly writing for years, being a writer didn't even occur to me as a possibility. The voices in my head more often than not portray me as a victim. Who am I to think I am important enough to share my opinions with the world? If I compare myself to writers that I admire and respect, my work is never as good and I am left feeling intimidated and scared. 

Why am I scared of writing? Why am I scared to share myself with the world and the people I love? Fear. Fear of rejection, fear of judgement, fear of being unloved and unsupported. Putting words and how I feel out into the world leaves me at my most vulnerable. Even as I write these words, the voice in my head keeps telling me not to. It keeps telling me that I will embarrass myself and that if I send this to people, they won't get it and will think I'm arrogant and narcissistic. 

I am choosing instead to not let my fear and worry win. I am choosing to create a new possibility for myself. I am choosing life. All those negative thoughts have done nothing for me except keep me small and scared of doing anything with my life. The only way I will have an extraordinary life is to do things that are greater than I think I am and to continuously push myself way out of my comfort zone. 

So here I am, being vulnerable about to send this out into the big wide world. I don't know who will read this. I don't know if this will make any impact on anyone else other than myself. What I do know is that the only way I will be able to change my thinking and change my world is to change myself.

*This post is part of the DigiWriMo Project in association with Write On! South Africa - Today's Topic is: Be Brave

For Rosemary Theron - How I Will Remember You

Dear Rosie

Today I heard the news about what people have been speculating for months. You were murdered. I fear that this is how people will remember you. That the press and the public will dissect your last moments under the media’s magnifying glass. I don’t want to know the details. I don’t want to put in my insensitive two cents of speculation.  Too many people are remembered this way. They are remembered for their last moments instead of their lives.

So I’m writing this to you so I will remember you as you were in life – tiny in stature but full of fire. Our paths only crossed twice but in that short time, you made a massive impact. The first time we met, we did a gig together at an end of year function. The theme was Alice in Wonderland – I was The Queen of Hearts and you were the Mad Hatter. We met as we were putting on our make up before going to interact with the guests. We were surrounded by models and I was hoping there would be someone I could talk to. Someone that had beauty that was more than skin deep. We chatted a little bit about the gig. It was the end of the year and the festive season madness had already begun. You seemed angry and untrusting of me. We didn’t talk much again that day but while we were with the guests, you kept coming up to me and interacting with me as your character. You took your role seriously, stayed in character the whole time (as did I as you can see by the photo below) and I appreciated that.

                                         The Queen of Hearts glares at The Mad Hatter 

The next time I saw you would be the last. We were doing a Halloween Rocky Horror Show themed gig. I was playing the role of Columbia and had been asked to choreograph a Flash Mob Time Warp. You were part of the Flash Mob and were also doing Fire Dancing. It was a very chaotic day –too many people were trying to take charge and I was getting more and more frustrated trying to lead the group. I’m not the kind of person who usually shows my anger but the tolls of sleep deprivation overtook me and I stormed off to be on my own. I felt stupid and embarrassed that I couldn’t handle the group dynamic and irritated that I had put so much work in, only to be disrespected.  Suddenly out of nowhere, you ran up to me and kissed me on the cheek. I’ve never been one to show my affection easily through touch – I use words to show people I care. The fact that you didn’t even know me that well but still reached out to me with such compassion made me feel so much better. Everything changed after that, I went back to the group and got ready for the gig to start. The rest of the night we performed in different parts of the club. You did your fire dancing but slipped and fell on the gasoline in front of the audience. I didn’t see the moment you fell, but you came up to me afterwards all embarrassed and I tried to take your mind off things. I then had to do my performance and we danced a little bit later in the evening after the flash mob.

Our paths crossed for just a moment in time but your kindness affected me deeply. I hope that your family and friends and anyone who crossed your path also had the privilege of seeing this side of you. I will remember you always. Thank you for leaving me with such a beautiful memory – you will be missed. 

*This piece was published in The Sunday Times, South Africa on October 6th 2013.