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NANCY Sinatra sang it perfectly:

“…These boots are made for walking

And that’s just what they’ll do,

One of these days these days these boots are gonna

Walk all over you…”

So it only makes me wonder, rather gravely, how it is that I became the person over whom those boots are walking. I guess I know how, which makes the situation that much more ironic since I saw it happening and still did nothing.

I became that WELCOME mat at the front door; the one that people always think is rather entertaining and then proceed to wipe their feet on it before making their entrance. And I let it happen. I let myself believe that everyone out there was more important that than me. Regardless of how happy I may or may not be – usually the latter – as long as those around me were happy and I could be part of making them happy, then really, I was just a minor detail in the greater scheme of things. And so naturally, it came to pass that most people saw a hand and decided to take the whole arm because what good is happiness if you can’t have all of it? I agree… which is funny really, I’m not sure how, but I’m sure there’s a laugh in there somewhere.

What makes the situation more ironic is a while ago I said that happiness is a state of mind, something you decide to be and not something that you need permission from other people to be. It’s true, but let us face reality for just a second; we can’t be happy all the time and we depend on those around us, like friends, to help us be happy when days are dark. We don’t need their permission, but their input always helps. So what happens when you spend so much time making sure others are happy? You forget that your happiness matters as well and before you know it; you are living your life vicariously through others in the hope that their happiness somehow will become yours. Thankfully, this didn’t happen this time round, but I’ve been seeing it happen and something about it just doesn’t feel right. And just like that, I’m doing it again. Lets get back to me again.

So you see… I give a lot of myself. The reason why I do isn’t that clear to me, but I think it has something to do with wanting to please all those around me and make sure that they are as happy as they possibly can be. This is fine… but everything in moderation. Sometimes I get so caught up that I allow people to take just that little more than is necessary and before I know what’s happening, I’m unraveling and they are on their merry way, happy again and enjoying life; forgetting that I’m actually there. Maybe a bit dramatic, but the point is made. And here’s the punch line: I let it happen. So it’s not that funny, but lord knows I’m laughing.

And so the cycle continues and has continued for a good few years now and just as I think I’ve figured it out – BAM – its happening and I’m not smiling. Again. What’s worrying is that I’m getting used to it and every time it happens, I just shrug it off, either pretending like it’s not happening or calling myself selfish for caring about myself. And so those boots just keep walking, right over me and eventually, I have nothing to give. Even to those people who I know deserve it.

It may have taken some time, maybe too long, but I’ve finally realised that it’s really up to me to make myself happy. Those that I can depend on I do because I know that they really do care about my happiness. But I can’t always take from them because they also need to make sure that their happiness comes first. So I’m going to be selfish, and I’m going to care more about myself and if that upsets people, so be it. I’m tired of being the one who runs after someone, making sure they are smiling or feeling loved and then I’m the one left suffering because they are so wrapped up in themselves; they don’t even see me there.

It is here we leave Nancy Sinatra and use Carrie Underwood as an example, maybe not as sensational as Nancy, but she definitely got the words right:

“…I dug my key into the side
Of his pretty little souped-up 4 wheel drive
Carved my name into his leather seat
I took a Louisville slugger to both head lights
Slashed a hole in all 4 tires…”

Okay, maybe not that dramatic - even I’m not capable of that - but it makes its point.

I’m not that WELCOME mat anymore.

Serious?

SO I find myself faced with a somewhat tough decision: Start taking life more seriously than I have been taking it or alternatively, prepare myself to hit the ground with a resounded thud, face first. Needless to say (yet I will say it nevertheless), I’ve decided on the former since the latter doesn’t quite work with my plans for the future or with my face for that matter.

Yet, once this decision was taken, it drudged up a number of other, rather tedious, questions, which needed much pondering and, eventually, some answering. The questions ranged from: What does it mean to take life more seriously? Does it mean getting a job? Perhaps it means the necessity to stop partying (unsettling if I do say so myself)? Does it mean re-evaluating my priorities? Organising my life? Hibernating (as humans do)? So many questions and the reality I found and currently find, is that taking life seriously means doing all those things, some in moderation, and some in a rather frantic, OCD, life-will-end-tomorrow-if-I-don’t-do-it sort of way.

So then why take life seriously if it only means creating more stress and effort in my life? Now that’s a question I can answer… I think.

Many would think that taking life seriously means that you become a hard-ass with few friends and all you do is work all day. Well… I won’t entirely disagree with that simply because I know that at times (more often than not) I have become just this and somehow managed somehow to keep a rather large amount of friends (other than those who decided backstabbing and talking behind my back is the new coward). However, seriously at this moment means something entirely different. Right now I am faced with the simple truth that the only way to success is to pull-up my socks and realise that life isn’t going to merely start dropping opportunities in my lap, but that I’m going to have to find these opportunities or at least, grab them as they go whooshing past and make the most out of what I’ve got.

At the same time, taking life seriously means working as much as I possibly can now to enjoy the fruits of my labour later and benefit from the tedious and laborious times still to come. Money is scarce, prices are going up, jobs are few, life isn’t easy (and I think that’s kind of the point) and really, there’s no room for dramas, issue’s, problems and moaning and groaning. I can sit here and complain that I don’t get this, or I don’t have that, or people are being nasty to me, because really, all I’ll end up achieving is an ulcer, possibly a spastic colon and more stress in my life than is really necessary. Time is a precious commodity that once it’s gone, I can never get back (I think some famous person said that) and the only way I’m going to succeed is by making use of the time I have even though I don’t know how much time I do have since I could die tomorrow (here’s to hoping that doesn’t happen).

So taking life seriously means settling down somewhat, focusing on the things that’ll get me further in life as opposed to holding me back, while hoping that those around, those that truly matter in my life, will support me and encourage me to succeed. Taking life seriously means that I will be a bastard sometimes and at other times, I’ll be as supportive and understanding as possible (chances are that the former may be more prevalent for the mean time), but it’s not something I intend to do. I’ve only got the chance to live now at this very moment, I don’t have until tomorrow and yesterday is already forgotten, passed, insignificant. It may have taught me many lessons, but those lessons are no use if I’m not making use of them or learning new ones.

But we all know the time-old saying all work and no play makes Jack dull boy. Now I’m not quite sure who Jack is and frankly I don’t care, but I know that all work does make me quite a dull boy (with extreme cabin fever), bitchy and hardly worth spending time with. Unfortunately, with the decision to take life more seriously does mean a slight decline in the amount of time I spend partying and inebriated (not that the latter happens that often mind you). But I will still be going out, I will still be dancing (like a whore apparently, thanks everyone), but now I will be doing it when I feel that I can and when I know that it won’t result in me stressing because I’ve either not finished an assignment, haven’t studied for a test or haven’t organised something properly due to feeling as if a truck hit me and then reversed.

What has also influenced this decision, or rather, WHO has influenced this decision (indirectly) is the arrival of someone truly incredible in my life (no, I haven’t had a baby). It’s through him that I’ve realised there are certain decisions I need to make in life if I want it to go the way it’s meant to and that there are certain sacrifices I must make (some willingly and some not so much) if I intend on leading a life with everything I want in it (including him). So yes, taking life seriously means investing in a relationship that has the potential to be something I’ve been looking for or at least hoping for, for a while. When I say this I don’t mean the kind of relationship that lasts today and ends tomorrow, and I’m not trying to sound ridiculously soppy or sound like those crazies who are hoping for something that will never happen. What I’m talking about here is something serious, long-term and most importantly real (some may understand this and some may not. Ever).

By this point I’ve practically forgotten what I was going on about, but the gist is that my life is going to be taking a few new directions. Not that you all really need to know about it. But I’m telling you in any case. Maybe it’s so when I don’t answer calls, SMSes, Facebook messages, or if I don’t see people, I don’t have random rumour mills opening up, but merely have people understanding what’s happening and why I’m the shallow, two-faced, annoying, lovable person I truly am.

There… I feel better.
Now to take life more seriously… crap… where do I start?

x o x o

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IN THIS world of blind illusions,
Where nothing's what it seems,
And reality is only seen,
In the corners of our dreams.

We try to find something that matters,
But nothing's ever found,
While flying high up in the sky,
We're always six feet underground.

I won't be sorry for crying,
Though these tears may show my pain,
But what you can't see and I can feel,
Is my heart breaking again.
And I won't be sorry for saying,
That you meant the world to me,
That I love you still and always will,
But some things were never meant to be.

We drown ourselves in endless hope,
And fight each passing day,
To find the one that we have lost,
But lose ourselves along the way.

And all that's left of what once was,
Are fragments of a broken soul,
That cries in fear of never finding,
The shattered pieces to make me whole.

I won't be sorry for crying,
Though these tears may show my pain,
But what you can't see and I can feel,
Is my heart breaking again.
And I won't be sorry for saying,
That you meant the world to me,
That I love you still and always will,
But some things were never meant to be.

Tattoo - Jordin Sparks

NO MATTER what you say about love
I keep coming back for more
Keep my hand in the fire
Sooner or later, I'll get what I'm asking for

No matter what you say about life
I learn every time I bleed
That truth is a stranger
Soul is in danger, I gotta let my spirit be free

To admit that I'm wrong
And then change my mind
Sorry but I have to move on
And leave you behind

I can't waste time so give it a moment
I realise, nothing's broken
No need to worry 'bout everything I've done
Live every second like it was my last one
Don't look back at a new direction
I loved you once, needed protection
You're still a part of everything I do
You're on my heart just like a tattoo

I'm sick of playing all of these games
It's not about taking sides
When I looked in the mirror, didn't deliver
It hurt enough to think that I could

Stop, admit that I'm wrong
And then change my mind
Sorry but I gotta be strong
And leave you behind

I can't waste time so give it a moment
I realise, nothing's broken
No need to worry 'bout everything I've done
Live every second like it was my last one
Don't look back at a new direction
I loved you once, needed protection
You're still a part of everything I do
You're on my heart just like a tattoo

If I live every moment
Won't change any moment
Still a part of me and you
I will never regret you
Still the memory of you
Marks everything I do

I can't waste time so give it a moment
I realise, nothing's broken
No need to worry 'bout everything I've done
Live every second like it was my last one
Don't look back at a new direction
I loved you once, needed protection
You're still a part of everything I do
You're on my heart just like a tattoo

Just like a tattoo
I'll always have you.


[I believe this speaks for itself. I shall leave it at that.]

Passing Moments

I WANT to pretend that I’m just fine.

I want to wake up today and feel ready to face anything that comes my way. That no matter what I have to face and no matter the difficulty, I will persevere and not give up… ever… that I will forge on through anything that stands in my way, only stopping to look ahead and prepare myself for I have to face next.

Days seem to come and go, one after the next, and what each day brings with it is another feeling of heartache, sorrow or distortion. It’s like living in a box; the tight space created by the walls and the musty smell of air that has no place to go. The feeling of claustrophobia slowly gripping you by the back of you next, squeezing so hard that you can feel the panic beginning to set in and you try to run, yet there’s no where to do.

Nights seem to pass tediously, dragging on and on making me want to scream, yell, hoping that this will make a difference and knowing it never will. These nights are filled with anguish; tossing and turning, waking up trying to breath, lying awake for endless hours looking ahead of you with tears falling down your face. And I have no strength left to wipe them away. As sleep wearily takes your body, there is no resistance and a silent wish fills your mind behind washed out eyes; a wish to never wake up.

Moments seem to come and go; never staying for longer then a few minutes. These moments of happiness, sadness, anger and confusion. Moments of frustration, heaviness, joy and despair. These moments seem to twist themselves around my body, my heart, and then, when the time is right they grip, grip so hard that I can feel every bit of air rushing from my body, I can feel my heart collapsing and I can feel my lungs screaming for life. And then they let go, and there I am, alone, scared, wishing for something more.

I want to believe I’m happy.

I want to pretend that I’m just fine.

But I’m not.
I’m not...

You Say It Like It's A Bad Thing....

WHEN I stand up for myself and my beliefs,
they call me a bitch:
When I stand up for those I love,
they call me a bitch
When I speak my mind,
think my own thoughts or
do things my own way,
they call me a bitch.

Being a bitch means I won’t compromise what’s in my heart.
It means I live my life MY way.
It means I won’t allow anyone to step on me.

When I refuse to tolerate injustice,
and speak against it,
I’m defined as a bitch.
The same thing happens when I take time for myself,
instead of being everyone’s maid,
or when I act a little selfish.

It means I have the courage and strength
to allow myself to be who I truly am,
and won’t become anyone else’s idea of what they think
I “should” be.

I am outspoken, opinionated and determined.
I want what I want and there’s nothing wrong with that!

So, try to stomp on me,
try to douse my inner flame,
try to squash every once of beauty I hold within me.

You won’t succeed.

And, if that makes me a bitch … so be it!!

-unknown-

Solitude of the Mind

I stand at a precipice, a cliff, if you will, where my life seems to have taken a course of events I had neither anticipated nor expected. Yet how could have I expected anything, when the future is never predictable, but simply a myriad amount of guesses. Yet here I am and unable, or more over, not wanting to move because it seems my soul has forced me to stop and contemplate about things, that now for a while, I have not wanted to think about, to think of, to even allow a moment in time.

I don’t want this to be about me, but it has to be.

I have too often said things don’t go the way we might have planned; the directions change, paths falter and life decides on a new course. Sometimes, the new course taken is one we have been looking forward to sub-consciously. But then there are the times when the new path is one that we have stayed clear of, whether by choice or circumstance; whether out of fear or pain. And when you suddenly realise that this road that you are on now is one that you have stayed clear of for so long, it seems the world takes a minute to rest on your shoulders.

It is the road that has placed itself in front of me at this very moment.

But the heaviness has lasted for longer then a minute for I have refused, denied, looked away from the road before me, the path, the change. They say change is a good thing, a necessary thing, something that should be embraced, yet it is this change that I fear. I don’t know whether it’s because I don’t know who I am, or whether it’s because I’m unsure of who I am. A conflict exists; a conflict between being the person I feel I need to be and being the person that that has existed for so long. The change is imminent and inevitable, but what brings it to a standstill is the overwhelming feeling that the change will come with criticism, with ostracisation.

And not from those that do not matter, but from those that do.

I believe they call it being stuck ‘between a rock and hard place’. And it has been for a while now that the feeling of claustrophobia continues to overpower me. I know I have the choice, the decision to wake up tomorrow and shrug of all of this, to continue with life on my terms, but nothing is as easily done as it is said. Which in itself is nonsense because if I want to do it, then that is all I should ever need.

So maybe I’m going crazy.

But that’s just it. I’m tired of this. I want to wake up tomorrow without feeling like tomorrow is another day in which I want to go to sleep. So I decide I won’t, but it never changes. The conflict remains, the battle ensues and I end up right back where I was before, talking nonsensically about things that really don’t matter, walking down paths that lead to nowhere and wasting each day, knowing that it could be the last; knowing this and simply not caring. Yet I do care, so much. No one understands that, no one sees it; maybe I don’t want them to see it. But I care.

Yet I push people away, not wanting to hurt them or be hurt. But I miss them.

omnia causa fiunt
(Everything happens for a reason)