Tag Archives: words

Me and Myself

4 Nov

Meet Sponge – Meet The Juggler,

Life is made up of chance encounters. Words spoken and overheard. Suggestions and ideas bought to life in unexpected ways, this is one of those that has shaped my life.

Recently someone mentioned to me that they thought I had two personalities. This shocked me at first, initially that someone could read me so easily and secondly because I knew it was true. It always has been. I haven’t thought about this in a long time but this simple little moment jolted me back and has had my mind spinning for days now.

I remember the first time that I could shape my personality. My obsession with the word ‘Sponge’ had gotten a little out of hand. As it was due too. I was a teenager and my emotions were wildly out of place and out of sync. My friend Gold told me that she never understood the ‘Sponge thing’ but that she thought it was kind of like my alter ego. I realised she was right. I had an avatar, a name, a signature, everything except the words to shape it and give life to my own personality. The name was the important thing. Things started to click into place. I did, and still do sign my name as Sponge, funnily enough no-one has ever noticed or mentioned this strange habit.

I understand now, the power in giving something a name. It makes it real, makes it solid and allows the thing life and growth.

Over the years as I’ve figured out who I am, who I want to be and come to terms with my good and bad points my character has shaped itself into 2 distinct people. Sponge – the ‘dark’ side, and now – given a name – The Juggler. A handle I have used when writing and the self that traveled through India and used juggling as a way to interact on a new level.

It’s strange to think about your own self as 2 distinct people. You sometimes loose a lot of inhibitions – you can say it wasn’t ‘You’, you justify things to yourself with the knowledge that – whatever your doing, however your acting isn’t who you really are, its the shell of a person that you have consciously created to contain all those things that you can not control but despise in your own actions.
Those times when you are vengeful and petty – that’s Sponge. When your arrogant and controlling, bossy, rude, racist. It’s not who I am, I know I have many good qualities but to keep them on the surface you need to embrace the bad. For me this happens in allowing those bad qualities to have a name and to accept that they are part of who you are, even if that part is almost a completely different person….

So long Motherfuckers!!!!

19 Jun

Today is my last day in my current job before I leave for Australia. I’m fighting this internal instinct to go on a rampage of anger and destruction. Destroying all in my path and leaving in a blaze of fire and intent. Destruction to the limits. Or some such. To be honest it’s only my sense of pride, responsibillity and proffessionalism that is stopping my commiting IT career suicide and bringing down all hell fire.

So long MOTHERFUCKERS!!!! swearing makes me feel better. It’s such a nice release of frustrations and limitations. I don’t even know WHY I feel like this

I never

5 Jun

I never write about the ones I love or the happiness in my heart. If you read my posts you would think that I have nothing much in my life except blind ambition to an unforeseen goal. A direction and dogged determined attitude towards something completely obscure to all who know me.

This morning has been oddly upsetting. There is someone I love, I think so, very much, but who am I too know if what I think I feel is real. I’ll miss her so much and the fear of loosing what I have stumbled into, almost blindly makes me turn my back, almost on a goal I have aimed for over the past year or more. I have this desire and this need to push for these goals regardless of the pain it causes because I know its something I need to do before I regret my whole life knowing I could be a better person.

I’ve been waiting to hear these words for a while that maybe for me it is a solitary journey.

I’m scared of this trip, even more so now. But part of me considers it may be better, to be honest with myself, my mind has tossed and turned backwards and forwards constantly for the past month or more. To be or not to be, to go or not to go, to do or not to do. Whatever the answers, logic persuades me finally to accept, once more. To accept that I may lose, through fault of my own, something very special and unique to me…

You know how some songs remind you of the thoughless instictive care and love of those around you, those people that love you even if you are a smelly git…

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?

When the words won’t come

14 Apr

When the word’s won’t come. To untie the knots in your stomache. What do you do?

How can you express and understand this feeling. I don’t know if I have the words.

I want to describe this longing that drags at every cell of my body. This knowledge, and comfort in what I want. The fear of losing. Too many questions in my head right now.

A little truth in a short poem

9 Apr

A short reflection of self with a poem about me :D, of course written by me.

I am a poet, at heart and at soul.
My mind corrupts and my mouth destroys,

Therefore I write.
The language of the soul,
Used, to echo the truth from my heart.

The urgency of the beast

4 Apr

Rushing too, and from – the beast brings to the fore our urgency to obey the strictest of rules, the schedule and the time.

To respect the awesome power and strength, wrought in iron, steel and steam. Electricity coursing through the veins giving this creation life.
Much like the story of frankensteins monster. This is our creation.
Society’s monster, a monstrous engine – with bolts in its head and electricity to power its brain. But unlike Frankensteins monster – over the centuries we have clearly perfected the science of creation.

It does beg the question though. Why are we so urgent to get to or from the train. Is it the size? or the urgency of a meeting. To get home maybe?

Whatever the cause. I am bemused constantly when walking through stations that everybody is rushing. Like little hobgoblins – bringing gold to the beast, in the hopes of not getting burnt alive, burnt maybe to a crisp and devoured by the metaphorical dragon. Bring back the steam engine and watch as the dragon snorts the flame. The smoke rising from the belly of the beast.

Take away the rails and let this awesome creation of science, fiction and imagination roam free across the lands, give back its leather wings and remove its leather seats for surely a creature of this might should not be shackled to its tracks – driven by one small man – up and down the tracks. Life never taking any direction.

Take heed of these words – know that when, and it will happen. When the beast breaks free I hope your urgency to retreat from or enter it’s domain has taken you to a place of safety. For when the beast is free it shall roam and the lands will burn in revolution. One freed will after a time, release it’s fellows. If you go to the COOP for a loaf of bread beware that you may be stalked as prey by the trains.

Evolution and natural selection will leave only the strongest to survive and breed – to change and take over a world we think we rule. Opposable thumbs our only concession in the battle for control.

Listen here, you have been warned!