Sometimes your voice is not enough

Fissure

This day is only half real. The wall between my inner and outer world begs to be unlocked. Everywhere I look I see the cold harsh ground overlain with possibilities.The a gauzy sense of how rich and bright things could be, or should be.

You say that I will drown in my utopia. That I will fall asleep inside myself and never wake up, and when faces and words become distorted with hatred and pain, I sure wish I could.

You should know that fantasists like me, we get locked up. Locked and bound with expectations, with drugs and with leathery rules.

Did I hear myself then, beating my weak open fists against the door.
Could I bear my own cries, scratching and begging for something more.
For freedom, for trust, for belief, because I know you only heard rhetoric and gibberish pour out of my mouth.

You say that I will drown in my utopia. That I will fall asleep inside myself and never wake up, and when judgement and blame come raining down, I sure wish I could.

You say I’m wasting my time counting the pink clouds that float across your face, and writing a poem about how the spring wind blows so fiercely through the expectant apple blossoms. How can time spent on enjoyment or expression ever be a waste? You are wasting your time and energy on objects and routines. You are wasting your breath if you think you can change me by telling me I’m wrong.

Don’t keep me locked away. Don’t throw me to the tigers when I can only see kittens. Hold my hand and share my dreams, we can build a bridge between our worlds if you will only hear me.

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I think this painting is finished!

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I’ll add it to my watercoloured nature gallery too. I’m relatively satisfied with the outcome. I’ll show you the photo I worked from so you can see that it’s not perfect! But he really does have one blue and one brown eye.

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You can see how the painting developed here and here. Looking back I wanted his eyes to be Really big at the beginning!!

“one more look from her eyes
one more look can you paint her back to life”~tori amos, weatherman

Mbti personality test fun

First off, here is sox having a big silly roll in the sunshine.(spring, is that you???)

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Now for something a little different.

The boss lady just got back from a Management course and was raving about Myers-Briggs personality testing, and how interesting it was, as if psychology was something that has only just been invented! If you’ve never heard of it, the test classifies people into 16 different personality types.
http://www.16personalities.com
She came out as a physical chemist type, erm ISTJ if I remember correctly. So obviously, I was interested to see what I was. Turns out I’m INFP, so I’m a good moderator, I pay no attention to everyday stuff like washing up(Oh shit I’d better do that before SO gets home), I daydream, I live my life based on how I feel, and lose the power of logic when under pressure (sound like me?). What it also says is that I’m better at communication via paper vs verbally (duh!) and am always looking for the good in people, and remaining open-minded unless someone violates my values, at which point I become aggressively defensive (sound familiar?). Sadly the boss lady was thinking now that maybe she should give ‘extrovert’ people less of a hard time about blurting out ideas without thinking…..looking at me….but…I’m definately introverted, so why do I do that? Now she’s going to think that I have thought that stuff through thorough …when I really haven’t!!

I guess there are others out there like me who have an insatiable desire to fix people’s problems, to help them through difficult times and make everything harmonious and utopian.
Incidentally being infp makes me more prone to depression (probably because real life isn’t as awesome as my idealistic fantasy world).

How altogether fascinating. So maybe I’m not just lazy, selfish and irrational after all?!

Go and have a try and see what yours comes out as…I wonder if they got you spot on, or if some people don’t quite fit in those 16 boxes and require more sophisticated psychological modelling 🙂

“We were so aimless
But so filled with purpose”~ida, do you remember

Repeat after me: “I am an idiot”

Brace yourself.

I have managed something really special today, even for me. I measured out 2.5ml of liquid fluoxetine in a syringe for an oral dose, then not paying attention to the angle, squirted it on the back of my throat, choked, couldn’t breath for a couple of mins, freaked out, and of course, had an obligatory panic attack. Once I could breathe again I called  an out of hours Dr because my throat felt like it was burning through into my lungs. I’m so embarrassed, of course I’ll survive without intervention, what was I thinking? That the prozac would dissolve my trachea? (yes, yes that’s exactly what I was thinking). The lovely people at the end of the phone asked me if I have ebola a few times (not even I think I have ebola…) and whether I’d taken an overdose (nope, nothing that exciting I’m afraid!) they established that actually I was fine except for a bit sweaty and coughy. I was to go away, take a paracetamol and regret agreeing to this call being shared with my regular Dr. So the moral of the story is thus: when taking liquid medicines, don’t do what I did, dispense onto your tongue like a normal person…Ok?

Can you imagine dying from choking on prozac? I think I’d deserve a Darwin award for that…

“Shame is the shadow of love”~pj Harvey, shame

Half time vertigo

In such wilderness as this, the twin snarling tangles of fears known and unknown, both veiled in shadows, weave their insidious way around your body. Whispers and fallen leaves become a hurricane in your adrenalin drenched ears. Standing still, as you are, the scraps of livid miasma pulse towards you with every heartbeat until you have no choice but to breath them in. The incense of dread wicking fast through your aching lungs and oozing out through your pores. I can smell it on you now, the sour aroma of shivering, cornered prey, and I wonder then, as the the idle gods must wonder, which way you will turn.

“You’re like scissors in my coat
You’re like splinters in my cup”~sneaker pimps, splinter

I need a stranger to tell me I’m beautiful

I have dreams about rapture, waking and sleeping, day and night. Do you dream about passion? Those tormenting visions of overwhelming emotions and desire teetering on the edge of monomania, too headstrong and organic for logic or guilt to sink their teeth into. Does the past get swept into fictional scenes of unbridled expression and limitless freedom? Do you long for the hurricane embrace of life and love? I’m talking about losing yourself into something or someone so fully that “self” becomes nothing but an abstract term you once read about. Are you waiting for a stranger to tell you how beautiful you are? Or for fervor to fuel you into staying up all night painting your soul? Do you seek to adore with as much passion as you crave in return?And then, when you can’t find such fervor in your existence, do you doubt yourself? Do you doubt that such visions can come true?

“I wanna hold onto nothing and ride
Like the cinnamon girl
Like a butterfly
Just hold onto nothing
And ride” ~heather nova, ride.