Tag Archives: ideas

Melbourne

2 Jul

This is my first post in a while so I guess an update is needed.

I finished at work on the 19th of June 2009, my last day there in my current job. The weekend was spent with my girlfriend, Flo. I love her so much right now. My landlord came to do an inspection on my Flat 22nd June, told me my rent hadn’t been paid in 2 months and wanted a cheque from me before she left. I argued that if this was the case I should have been told long beforehand surely? Apparently her accountant had not realised. Well, I don’t have a cheque book, I don’t appreciate you asking me to then draw out cash and finally to borrow from a friend. No this will never happen. Especially considering that you have failed to have my gas safety checked in months. Don’t try to bullshit and harrangue me with the fact that the flat belongs to a charity. You WORK for the charity, you get paid wages, so do your bosses, your cleaners, your new offices. Everything. I understand how charities work and how big the operations really are, how much of the money raised by those gullible enough to give really goes to those it is designed to help. Don’t come preaching in my home!!!

Long story short, she’s kept my deposit and expects me to pay the balance at the end of this month. Last call, I asked her to confirm this to me in writing and have yet to recieve any response.

I left my Flat on the day of my flight, the place was finally empty, I’d sold my last fridge via Gumtree, at the same cost that I had brought it for and I guess it was time to start another adventure and to see a little of the world once more. To challenge myself and to grow.

It’s a little upsetting, giving something up that you have worked so hard for, packing a few bags and leaving the rest behind. Realising that finally, you have nothing left. Only the bags on your back and the memories in your heart. I shut the door, gave the keys to the shop below, walked away. I didnt look back, I got myself a coffee and a sandwhich in my favourite cafe. Saying a silent goodbye and hoping to once more be in a position to live in a place I am happy and love. I cried silent tears as I waited for the bus and sat bleary eyed as I travelled a short distance to say farwell to a good friend and then walked further to my parents house where I sat out the rest of the day and then onto the airport. Bags checked in, security – Finally – passed. Then the waiting game. Facebook, a real book, a sandwhich and the plane was ready to board.

I don’t know if I realised the significance of those actions until a while after I was on the plane. My stomach dropped as we lifted of, inside I think its true to say I was terrified of this step. I don’t think it was just the affect of the take off that had hit my stomach so strongly, it was the compilation of everything and the nagging doubt that still haunts me today. I’ve pulled apart my supports and let the world I had so carefully contructed to block all of my dangers and worries, to settle cossily inside my private domain. To come crashing down around my ears. Everything was over and I had taken those fateful steps that have so far led me down an unknown and largely, unappreciated path.

The flight was relatively short and before I knew it I was being awoken by a blinking seatbelt light. “Please fasten your seatbelt, we are about to begin our decent into Dubai airport”. The message was being announced by our pilot and again my stomach seems to of descended a lot quicker than that of our plane.

I spent the next week in Fujairah with a good friend of mine. Melting from the sweat and generally being oblivious to my surroundings. Soaking up the atmosphere and having a nice time. Enjoying the friendship of thsoe I had met before and those who were new. Being instantly accepted into a community I was not readily off, it was fun, it was nice and it felt happy.

Goodbyes are never a nice thing, again this one was more so unpleasant for without the support of my friends I would of been broken from unspeakable sadness, regret and the fear of loss. I was, and still am. In denial of the steps I have taken. The path I am walking down doesn’t have any signposts and there’s definitely no light at the end of the tunnel. Only my determination to be better, stronger and more secure is keeping me going, for my feet will surely stumble on this dark and uneven path. I am not led by god or believe as many would be, instead this comes from inside to prove to myself that I am me. Maybe also to reflect the slight arrogance thats clearly part of my being, slightly better. Just to rise above the lip of the wave and to have the strength and determination to ride the ripcurl to a different land, a different destiny, a new beach and finally. Warmer climates. Obviously a metaphor in Australian winter.

I understand a little better now how those who come to London, many my friends, struggle through a foreign and often harsh, lonely winter to come out on the other side. I think I can connect a little better with them on terms of empathy to what they must have, and still do experience. For those of you who know me and know what I am talking about. I respect and love you all more now than I have ever done before. With you in my mind I will fight this winter and explore this land. Onwards and Upwards.

My first day in Melbourne is going to be spent getting my feet and my bank account sorted out. For the love of God I hope sincerely this does not become a lifestyle. I will hopefully avoid the necessities that are inherent in this by not taking on those little reflections of a true citizen, you understand. Local sim cards, bank accounts, jobs and friends with the local school headmaster.

Today is a new day, it is early and there is much to do. Today is the beginning, today…

Advertisements

Growing with Grandparents

12 May

I don’t really know where this thought came from, I remember sitting back and watching or reading something and seeing the word grandparent.

Do you know the saying – no-body’s born a parent? or similar, basically saying that nobody knows how to be a parent on the off. It got me thinking that maybe its better that children grow up with their grandparents, because lets face it – they have already done it before? so surely they know better.

I think unfortunately here is where it all starts to break down. Let’s look at old people in general, smelly, grouchy and most of all stuck in their ways. After all, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks. So here’s the thought that, being older won’t  make them better parents, they will continue to make the same mistakes because its in their nature to nurture in their particular fashion. The thought is not likely to come to them that maybe they did make mistakes in bringing up their own children so being parental, their little angels are perfect.

So what about children that have much older brothers and sisters? It seems like a fairly perfect middle ground until you realise that, if the older siblings are past the teenage years, or have left home. The likely hood is that the younger siblings will get mothered and smothered. Having their every whim catered to. Spoilt!
The reason I think this would happen is that parents always want the best for their children, what they couldn’t give the first and older child they are more likely to give to the next child. After all, over time they have got used to their budget, they have matured, and could be financially better off. Mistake. Children need to be treated well of course but you can’t give them everything they want, they need to learn some real life values of hard work and intelligence, they need to understand that life won’t just hand them everything they want.

So maybe….just maybe if children are brought up in a small group, similar ages then they might have a fair chance, because the parents won’t be able to spoil them. They will learn from their siblings and peers and the parents learn quicker because the “mistakes” are more likely to happen with more children.

Don’t get me started on only children…I do wonder though if foster children are the exception to these rules and ideas??? Anyone know?

Just one Secret

16 Feb

It feels like it’s been a long while since this blog has contained anything personal. It’s all me, I agree to that point completely but this Blog is my sanctuary. I have opened it up to you all, mainly as an experiment, maybe a question. But it is still my sanctuary and I don’t like this fear that I’ll end up posting and writing for other people. If you read my posts thank you, if you comment I appreciate that and always try to respond but in my heart and mind this is still my escape. I know now that my family read this blog. At first I was surprised, confused and a bit wary about this but then I realised it was unimportant. Maybe it could be a good thing. Maybe that part of me that is reaching out in all directions is being heard. I wonder if when you read this you stop. You think to yourself that maybe we have more in common then I thought. Maybe you realise that your not alone and life could be worse. I think this almost every day to be honest. It’s like a stuck record sometimes – I will get down and sad – like everyone. But my way of dealing with it is, I can’t be sure but it feels different. I’ll let it get to me, because I can’t stop it. I’ll get angry, I’ll get upset, I’ll get embarrassed but by the next morning, or sometimes within hours I have forgotten the emotions that seemed so relevant and have found a new distraction. By letting these situations get to me I feel I encourage their natural progression – “if you can’t beat em join em”

If I’m feeling sad or lonely at night I get really bad insomnia, I can’t sleep and I find it difficult to switch off, much like now. So I read, I write and I watch mindless programs until I fall asleep. Being able to escape to another world and forget your troubles, forget the echoes of empty halls and hear only the voices inside your head. Those voices that are part of who you are, a conscience giving you hope and direction. Maybe a sense of belonging or direction. To judge and be judged and to make the choices that seem so difficult. I can’t sleep right now. My walls are bare, I have packed almost everything of importance and the time is coming. I can feel it.

I am scared of the changes I perceive and know are happening around me. Yet instead of hiding in a shell I reach out to the fear and accept it. Welcome the worry with open arms and call it adventure, call it a friend and an enemy, challenge it to beat me. I will never give in, I wish everyone had the same energy. Like a spinning top, round and round, constantly moving. The energy to say “Fck It” and to follow their dreams.

I know a lot of people worry about me when they read what I write – they think I am scared? alone? worried or maybe in trouble. Don’t, I am happy and I know what I want – this is what my soul looks like, twisted and confused but forever moving, my fingers typing, writing, expressing the thoughts that run through my head and change direction at the last minute. The ideas that flit into my brain for milliseconds, typed up and trapped. Pinned to the page like a butterfly. Frozen – a moment.

Words, to me. Are like pictures. They can express and convey a moment in time, a thought and an emotion – a combination that will never EVER happen again. Writing is an art – it doesn’t have to be fancy and it doesn’t have to make you smile, make you laugh or take you to another place. It just has to be.

Meaningless abuse of the power that you hold.

The impact of words is immeasurable, to some – you will smile. To others the same words make you cry, maybe just to stop and consider your own life? This is why you should never write for someone else, words are to powerful to be corrupted by greed and control, the pressure of your peers or your readers. They are a link to your soul and your being. If you let someone direct or control your soul then your life has no meaning. Your words are empty, the emotions mean nothing, just a shadow, an echo. In black on white. A shadow.

What women want?

5 Jan

I’m currently watching “What women want” on BBC Iplayer and it’s reminded me off a few times in the past and makes me think about the future and other general random non-events.

Have you ever had a moment when you just knew what was going through someones head? Knew what they were thinking whether by intuition or a misglanced look at a text message or email?

I think we have all been there, what do you do? if it’s bad do you keep it to yourself and hope they change their mind? Do you try and change their mind in some way….or are you like me, would you torture yourself that you weren’t perfect – would you want to make up for something or bring up a situation. The real question here though, the real point is that by knowing what someone else thinks – and by knowing I mean 100% – certain knowledge. Do you change yourself? does it make you act and think differently knowing how you are being judged or what someones thinking about you. Surely it’s better to be yourself – not knowing but playing the infinite game of guessing, intuition and experience, juggling your qualities until after pain, happiness, excitement and fear you find a balance. True to yourself.

I don’t think women really know what they want anyway…

Bookmark and Share