As broken, shattered, and ruptured as I am.

Am I better off not knowing? No. I’m glad I do now.

 

Time is a gift.

 

Each person in our lives, is a lesson. Either we are to learn from them, or we learn because of them. And as those people depart, whether or not it was on good terms, is because our lessons from them have ended. And vice versa. Sometimes the lesson is the pain we go through in our separation from them. Sometimes the lesson was in the time we had with them.

You’ll find there are those you thought you’d banished, yet a twist of fate brings them back to your door. Maybe there are lessons you have forgotten; and you need to revisit those memories with them in order to progress.

 

Progression.

 

We all make mistakes. Some of them, irreversible. The greater question is what have we made of those mistakes. They were necessary; have faith in that. Sometimes the lessons seem too heavy to endure, sometimes they feel unfair. “why is he  not tested as I?” Some say it is because he wouldn’t have been strong enough. One might also say that he has already learnt that lesson, or that it is not one he needs, or that he better learn it in in a different manner.

 

Would I be better had I never made mistakes? Would I be more worthy? Of what? If my life were any different, then I would be different. Could I be better? Of course. Everyone could. The greater question is am I on a path towards becoming a better person? Am I, right now, worthy of respect? Do I allow what I already am determine what I am in the future? Do I allow my past to determine what I am in the future? Have I allowed that past to dictate my current state of being?

 

 

 

 

Hope. I still have it.

 

 

Random rants. Let’s try that.

 

 

That scent.

 

The low tone of voice, comforting, patient,….. shall I say loving?

 

Not successful thus far.

 

Negativity at work.

 

What is it that inspires me? Learning. Teaching. Sharing. Let’s go back to that.

 

Still unsuccessful.

 

Twelve dead baby cockroaches. Seven of which are very fat. And not to mention the ants.

 

Focus.

 

No, scatter.

 

When was the last time you smiled?

 

Smile. Tomorrow will be smile day.

 

Maybe I should write a play. Title: twelve baby cockroaches.

 

Bad things are happening because you are not holding enough of the good. Say your graces, child.

The agony of missing someone who is right in front of you.

Henriette, Henriette, stop fiddling with your sleeves.

There, Louis dances in glee.

You feel hurt, you feel pain.

But is it for the betrayed love of thy husband?

He refuses to grace your bed.

Instead you fawn over Louis.

 

Henriette, Henriette, stop fiddling with your corset.

It isn’t love, I sure can bet.

Philippe can’t love you, no matter how he tries.

He’ll be courteous, he’ll be kind.

But the love of a husband,

In him you’ll never find.

 

Henriette, Henriette, stop fiddling with your hair.

La Baume Le Blanc now graces Louis’ stare.

What once was your she now so holds

In her virgin hands, their love unfolds.

Not with you, oh bewildered wife

Who now holds an heir,

Who now holds a life.

 

Henriette, Henriette, stop fiddling the napkins.

Have shame of the court, they can’t help but looking.

At how you fawn over what was never yours,

And forsake what is, as you drag your veins

On tormented fours.

 

Henriette, Henriette, remember your place.

Remain dignified, and hold your grace.

tis unbecoming for a queen to scream

Even if inside, your heart is bursting at the seams.

In the silent shadows you may then cry

For the loss of a loved one, who did not die.

 

Henriette, Henriette, you have to smile.

It was that smile that brought him by.

Be gracious and be content

To hold him near with no ill contempt.

Sooner be or sooner shan’t

The love you want regrow its plant.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Brave New World

No, it happens less and less often. Maybe it’s the environment I put myself in; but then again I’ve changed that. Then it must be me. Good. I can work on me.

 

I can answer for my actions.

I can atone for my sins.

I can learn from my mistakes.

 

 

But what is it that I did wrong? Do I lack the substance I so sure think that I have?

 

I can feel it. That decline in literacy, the loss in articulation, the demise of the wit I so treasured.

 

What is it that I did wrong?

 

How do I fix what I do not know how I have wronged?

 

Do I walk away? As I always have..wait, there was that punitive fight. I remember it. I remember that I did try that time. I just didn’t succeed.

Then how do I know whether or not to fight this time?

What am I fighting, anyhow?

 

I knew it. The worst enemies are the ones you cannot see. How do I fight when I do not know what I am fighting? How??

 

 

None of it makes sense.

 

Was it all my imagination? Or maybe it was reality. But the reality has changed.

 

It doesn’t matter, does it? I’ll still give up eventually. Tis not a fight you can win single handed-ly.

It’s horrible.

 

Missing what is right in front of you.

 

Maybe I should just walk away. Easier, isn’t it? Keep that box safely wrapped up and tucked away. Condemn it to what is certain.

 

Focus.

 

What are you here for?

 

 

Petty games and shenanigans?

 

 

Focus.

 

Have you not noticed that you are no longer where you started? And not in a good way, either. Pull yourself together. Is this really how you wish to see yourself? Spiralling downwards, and for what? the uncertainty and foolish hopes and dreams.

 

 

Are they really foolish?

 

 

Go with the flow. What are you rushing for? If you try to pluck your fruits before they ripen, ask not why they are not as sweet.

 

 

It’s horrible.

 

Missing what is right in front of you.

 

Tantalus.

 

 

Everybody belongs to everybody.
Of course you can have her. Everybody belongs to everybody.

Was my mistake in hoping, or in not trying hard enough?

The enemies that are hardest to fight, are the ones you cannot see.

That slight condescending passing comment passed in the hallways.

The scent of perfume he refuses to acknowledge permeating from his shirt.

That slight hesitation before leaning in to hug you.


How do you fight for what is not there?
How do you fight against it?


Sometimes they are smart; they place puppets as frontiers for us to channel our hate against. So we may have that face to disgrace, to spit upon, and to unite against.


But the hardest enemies to fight, are the ones you cannot see.

I suppose I haven't progressed as far as I thought; given how the current turn of events have come out.

But I am aware this time.