Stuck in the middle with you.

As I began to take everything in, I noticed the two halves. Black and white, left and right, East and West. Seperating the two was a thin fence. I didn’t enjoy being too much on one side or the other as I felt they both could be wrong. I sat on the fence, precariously balancing taking in the black, white, left, right, east and west. It is not easy to balance on the fence. It was easy to fall to one side and was hard to climb back up again.

Conflict will always happens at the fence. The differences ironing each other out. I felt overwhelmed having to balance, be a mediator and to seperate the warring factions. It was tiring and much of the time I felt alone. But in and amongst the factions I saw more and more people making their way to the fence. They shook hands, turned around and faced their factions with courage preventing their side from attacking the other. Eventually more and more came to the fence and I noticed the fence was no longer a fine line impossible to balance on. People began becoming the fence and the fence grew. It grew from the centre out, until the entire area of black, white, left, right, east and west became the fence – Became the people.

This is synthesis. Transformation. And it starts at the centre, the heart of the individual and works its way out. Eventually affecting others.

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Somewhere in the Multiverse

The following has swearing, please use own discretion.

He had been sitting on the hard wooden chair at his desk for nearly two hours. His back was aching, but he sat perfectly still facing forward into a blank wall. A few feet to his left was a large window overlooking traffic and a small park. On the desk sat a vintage typewriter that performed better than it looked and in the typewriter awaited a blank white sheet of paper. He stared at the wall with his hands on either side of the typewriter just sitting. Waiting. His apartment was quiet, except for the moan of afternoon traffic and the songs of various birds. He had been staring so long at the bland cream-coloured wall, that the texture of the paint on the wall began making odd shapes and he had to blink his eyes several times just to make sure it really was what he was seeing.  He banged his fist on the table which made his cat, who was lying lazily on the foot of the bed behind him, jump awake.

“This is fucking useless!” he said to no one, but directing it at his cat, who simply went back to pretending to sleep. “I have sat here for so long. We should have had at least something by now!” He turned and looked at his cat, who wasn’t in any way interested in his problems. “Thanks a lot!” He said to his cat. “You couldn’t perhaps try be a little more helpful, no? An idea or two? No?” He paused, almost expecting an answer. “Lazy shit.” and like a little school boy, tossed a pen at his cat.

“WHAT THE FUCK, MAN?!” Meowed his cat. “What you do that for? Are you fucking nuts?”

“I’ve sat here for nearly two hours, trying to write a story, my back aches, my eyes are seeing weird shit on the wall and you haven’t contributed a fucking thing!”

His cat sighed and rolled his eyes “Could you be any more whinny?!”

“Yeah. Shall I do an impersonation of you at dinner time?”

“Get stuffed.”

“What does that even mean?” The two looked at each other and gave each other a half-hearted shrug. “Could you just help me please, instead of sleeping all the time?” he said to the cat.

“Fine.” Said the cat through a yawn that almost unhinged his jaw. “Where are we?”

“Nowhere.” answered the guy.

“So, at the beginning then?” questioned the cat.

“We need an idea to be at the beginning. Right now, we are before the beginning. We are in the middle of nowhere, without an idea. How are we suppose to get around without an idea? Ideas are like the vehicles of the mind!” he said, as if high on MDMA.

“Jeez, chill out man. Take it easy!” said the cat as he got up to sit.

“You know, for someone who can tell great stories, you’re really shit at coming up with ideas.” said the guy to his cat, whom now sat licking his right paw.

“Ooh, ouch! Project much?” retorted the cat.

“Project? What?” muttered the guy confused.

“Yeah. You’re projecting because you can’t come up with a good enough idea. Its you, not me.” and the cat went back to cleaning his paws.

“Get stuffed!” The two looked at each other, paused and shrugged.

“Well you could at least help me a bit.” said the guy. “You’re good with stories.”

“Oh snap. I thought I was a lazy shit?” retorted the cat.

“Well, in some alternate universe you are.”

“Oh yeah? Well in some alternate universe you’re douche bag.” proclaimed the cat.

“Some would say we live in that universe.” replied the guy.

The two laughed. “Wait.” Said the cat. “That’s brilliant. Tell the many stories of the multiverse.”

“Great! How do we start it?” Asked the guy

There was a few moments paws…and then the cat answered “Somewhere in the multiverse…”

To my dearest Mamma…

Dearest Mamma…

You chose to leave us yesterday, Sunday 20th July, 2014 at 07:50. You left a gaping hole in our lives, your spirit filled so much and I hope that as time goes by, that we may hold on to that spirit because as you and I both know, that is the part that continues to live on.
I was lucky enough to say goodbye seven days before you became too weak to stay awake and I’m so thankful you got to hear me say the things I said. Somehow it just doesn’t seem enough and this is, as you know, my one outlet to express my thoughts.

I am so very proud of you; you were the incarnation of strength, courage, wisdom and kindness of heart. You displayed these qualities through your action and not just words, this made you my greatest teacher. You taught me what it truly means to love unconditionally and the importance of free-will and these things, among the myriads of other lessons you taught me, I will forever remember.
Some may say that your time with us was cut short, and indeed it may seem that way, but I also know you have earned this right to rest. You succeeded everything and more in this life and your spirit is no doubt needed elsewhere, and who am I to want to keep you here for the sake of my selfish wants? You taught me better than that. Even in the face of Death you demonstrated incredible courage and grace to a figure that too many fear.
You loved to laugh and saw the brighter things in life and I won’t let grief prevent me of honoring your spirit of life and love; so my thoughts of you are fond, light and full of unconditional love. I still see you and feel you everywhere and I have an incredible sense of happiness for you and that, Mamma, you thoroughly deserve.

So my dearest Mamma, I say one last goodbye to you. I am going to miss you terribly. Thank you for absolutely everything. I will celebrate your life and not mourn your not being here, you have earned this rest. I am so proud of you, I love and will always carry your light with me.

Rest in Peace Mamma, till we meet again…

 

I love you, always and forever XXX

An Ocean

I have never been one to repeat my blog posts, but I had this urge to repost this particular post called “An Ocean”. Hello to new followers, much thanks and gratitude for continuously reading my posts. I encourage you all to check out my earlier posts if you find the time and boredom. So here is my re-blog of an old post…

The Observing Vessel's Blog

normal_ruisdael-storm-at-sea

If anything, life is a vast ocean. Constantly moving, swelling and crashing. And just like the weather doesn’t only affect one drop, it affects vast regions of ocean. You and I? We are the humble boats, luxury yachts and big corporate tankers. It matters not what you have as cargo. It can be two creatures in a boat with nothing more than raincoats and umbrellas. I’ve seen galleons and massive tankers succumb to violent storms only to be swallowed by the ocean, precious cargo and all. The wake the bigger vessels create, affects the others, especially the humble boats. They don’t care. They care too much for their precious cargo, even if it destroys them and this ocean we are all sailing.

So what is it that we are doing adrift this vast, endless ocean? I suspect to find dry land. A place to call home. A place that offers…

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