Saturday, 27 November 2010

Which One's Which?

As I walk down the busy road, the rational and irrational are having a war in my head.
Its so nice to care.
but it is kind of so much easier when you don’t.
so nice to feel that flutter in your stomach.
But it kind of makes me feel nauseous.
So nice to smile randomly, uncontrollably.
So nice to have someone I want to talk to.
But it kind of drives me crazy checking my phone so often.
And it kind of makes me feel…
and that’s the thing,
im not too sure how it makes me feel.
I want to say scared.
I want to say it makes me feel terrified.
But its so nice to feel that feeling,
to actually care what someone thinks of you.
to actually want and feel and…
I keep coming back to that word because, I feel I haven’t in so long.
Cared that is.
I never care.
not enough.
Its like I ran out,
I gave it all,
every single last shred of care that I could ever possibly conceive myself to give.
Enough to even forget that I deserved any of it.
Im definitely in trouble.
Is this life?
If love does exist,
(and the jury is still out on that one),
if love does exist,
what makes it be the irrational?
Maybe it isn’t.
maybe what is irrational is making yourself,
I take that back,
maybe what is irrational is, believing that love doesn’t exist.
As I walk into the empty house the rational and irrational are having a war in my head.
I’m just not so sure which one’s which.

Photography: Muzi.

Tuesday, 23 November 2010

I'm Lost.

This is a different kind of writing. This is a, I’m lost, I don’t know where I am kind of writing. I don’t know where I am. Im focusing so much on the fact that everything is temporary that I make decisions based on that. I live my life like it is a joke. So I leave, then suffer seperation anxiety. Arrive, and regret it. Say something, then realise its implications. The only thing constant is change, I know this. I don’t need to run into it. I don’t need to make decisions just so they will trigger change. It will come. And I will be helpless. And I have to deal with that. I will be helpless. I already am. Really there is not that much that you can control in life. You can control your own actions, and that is it. Everything is rented, even my time is borrowed. My actions are mine.

Photography: Muzi.

Tuesday, 9 November 2010

Wall Yourself Away.

And you are so together in your aloneness, that you make everyone feel like an outsider to that. We couldn't possibly understand. Our smiling faces are to opposite to your downturned one. Our laughing voices, too loud for your occasional croaking. Our hearts too full to comprehend your walled up one, full also, but only with self pity. And we feel like outsiders when we try to fit into you, when we try to understand. But for all those moments that we are not trying, all those moments where you sit with your head bowed, eyes fixed to an unmoving point. -- it is you who feels like the outsider. You are so together in your aloneness. We can't even try pierce you.

Photography: Me.

Friday, 5 November 2010


And I guess this is one of the main things you go through in life. You escape the warm, what you know, for something new. Somewhere you have no idea what you will encounter. Birth is the prime example of this. All the screaming, the pushing. The breaking through, the end of the 9 months you spent encapsulated, fed, warm, safe, in a womb. And although the other examples may not be quite so obvious, that is life I suppose, locked in a state of repetition. And although I am scared, although the warmth drapes like a blanket, the comfort caresses like a kiss on the forehead - everything you never knew you wanted is right outside your comfort zone. So I guess you keep moving, you keep moving. But oh its so hard to leave the womb sometimes.

Photography: Muzi

Tuesday, 2 November 2010

Dear Anxiety,

Where did you come from, and why are you here? I cannot believe you still appear in my dreams. How can you be so unaware of something, but a particle of your brain remembers. One molecule, that continues to give you grief even when you are blissfully unaware that you're even bothered by something. And it's very strange that you feature so heavily, so highly, so often in my sleep, when you don't enter my body at all when I am awake. And I wake up anxious because that is your very essence. Because you kill me time and time again in my dreams. Succeeding in what you tried daily, but failed, to achieve when I am awake.

Photography: Muzi