A Warm Place

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The last slithers of light dance upon blades of grass as I stand in the bathroom pissing out an evening’s worth of beer. Looking through the open window while trying not to lose my aim, it’s a great sensation to be letting it all out while taking the time to observe nature in all its majestic glory. Although I know there’s a church beyond the fence at the foot of the garden, in my drunken state I confuse reality with a dream from a few nights ago, the one where the earth was just a great big park. There were no roads, not even buildings, just trees and swings and picnics as far as the eye could see. This is what I imagine is out there right now, andย if I’m lucky, there’s some girl not far off who’s looking for the same answers as me despite not knowing the questions. Everything is still, and although the birds are singing, it’s as tranquil as I’ve ever known. I’m not happy, and I’m not sad, and I wouldn’t expect anything less. It’s been ten years to the week since I graduated from University. I was 21, fresh-faced, and ready for what the world had to offer. A few days after I finished, I moved in with my then girlfriend and enjoyed one of my finest summers of self-discovery and bliss. It didn’t last long. A few months later she kicked me out for getting drunk and spending the evening with friends over her. A little harsh, perhaps, but it means nothing now. Still, it was good while it lasted, and those summer evenings still make me smile even after so long. If someone told me what my life would now resemble all those years ago, I’d probably have killed myself, and yet I’m proud of my struggle. I believe in something, and I’ve been quite prepared to sacrifice everything to make it happen. Most give up on their dreams, but here I am, still in love with a state of mind rather than a destination. The more years that pass me by, the more beautiful life gets. It’s the things others always seem to neglect. The small moments so often discarded because they appear to hold no financial worth. The rest overlook them, but there are those that see, and I wish with great intent to one day meet such souls. It gets so lonely at times, but if I can keep fighting, there will be a tomorrow that has my name written all over it. If I can keep the words bubbling inside, then the rest will follow.

7 replies »

  1. If you did not have a struggle life would be quite mundane. Success is not what the world tells us it should be but is instead what we decide to create. Your words, once again, hit me in a place of truth and, as usual, I am so glad to have them in my life.xo

    • Thank you ever so much my dear Emily. You are right; they’d be no point to any of this if there was no struggle. No art of any merit has ever come out of comfort. I think you need to be broken a few times before you can step up and speak with integrity and heart xo

  2. You make going back in time, seem like a stepping stone, how effortlessly you return to a moment and vividly paint it alive again, without having really left. That is surely the mark of a great writer. I agree with your other comment above, that if we did not experience heartache, pain, suffering, experiences perhaps negative, and positive, we’d have precious little fodder for our minds to masticate on (I said MASTICATE!) ๐Ÿ˜‰

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