Under the stars 

When I was young I could only imagine death , my obsession grew and I lay awake at night surrounded in darkness imagining nothing, no one really to talk to or explain it all to me. So I filled this blank dark space with stars, and each star was alive with someone I cared about, and slowly as I grew older the stars started to fill up and there was no blank space or stars, and as people filtered into my life only to leave again yet again I fill the black sky thinking of death as I always do, and I see stars and light shining way above me. And the silence you ask? well I simply fill that with music, so much music, sad songs, happy songs, strange songs, noises that fill every sense of your soul, and leaves you thinking, IF I am truly alone, how can someone create something that sings to my soul?

See there is never darkness around you, how could you possibly see the darkness if there was never any light? And tell me this if it is so quiet, if you too are alone with no one to talk too like me, no one to reach out too – tell me why there is a song in your head soothing your soul, some forgotten gem that drifts into your mind. IF you truly fear the dark why can a stunning sunset draw a tear to your eye, we cannot possibly never hurt, or cry, parts of us will die inside, the other parts they will fight for you, there is no tomorrow for any of us nothing in life is certain, but we have today and we have right now, and the ability within that not one of us can measure until it is needed.

The day maybe drawing to a close, you may like me be frustrated by it all, thinking what have I achieved, what have I done, I can answer without asking, you have lived today, you are breathing and that is inspirational in itself.

 There is hope in living, however strained it is there, there are stars to guide you and music to love you, hope can consume you. Maybe Idealistic maybe not, what is certain is you have the here and now, and you will have love, and you will find that place, go gently forward because the past is not something you can change, but the future is yours to shape.


There are times when one loses hope. When one just stands there, for a single moment, and stares. Just stares out into the horizon, looking and looking, almost as if waiting for something to come. But it never comes. They stand there, they watch, and they wait, and they are disappointed. No one is exactly sure what keeps giving them hope, or enough courage to stand there another time, but something does. Something, deep down, reaches up into their mind and says, wait again, it will come. So they wait because that’s what the voice told them to do, that’s what their feelings say, and they keep waiting. Some wait all of their life, without ever getting what they want. Others, the voice just stops trying, stops telling them to go back and look, they just stop. And some, never get there at all. 

Is it wrong for them to have that hope? To dream that dream that one day, whatever they are looking for will finally come? Maybe it is wrong, maybe they have been misled, and misjudged, and they don’t know what they are truly supposed to do anymore, but its never wrong to them. That hope that they lost, maybe it wasn’t really lost at all. Maybe it just settled down for awhile, itself also waiting, for the day when it is supposed to come back. Maybe its going to come back, but that body that they inhabit doesn’t last long enough for its return. 

Sometimes people stand there, and while they are looking, they give up. For a fraction of a second, they stand there, and they think to themselves, “Its not going to happen,” and then that’s the end. Sometimes that one person, standing, and all alone, is too alone to keep going. That their giving up has nothing to do with who they are, or what they want, or what they can do, but has everything to do with the fact of how strong they are when they stand alone, and wait. Sometimes one loses hope, but is it our place to say whether or not they get it back again?

Souls & Sparkles

There are a thousand rooms in each person’s mind, and each mind is a maze because it has been tangled. The hallways are criss-crossing and clumping, like long hair in the wind. Society has made it so.

We all have impure thoughts. Things that would make us “bad”, unequal, or imperfect.

Thoughts that make us different in gloriously unusual ways. We are born into the world unashamed, but then we are taught the unspoken words.

Words that are rules. Words like normal, like good and bad, ugly and pretty. We are taught that if we do not fit the rule of “good”, we are bad. We are evil, we are tainted, and so we are unwanted.

So, each of us hides our failures; our shortcomings, even though they are exactly the opposite of such. They are a representation of the uniqueness of each human soul, but unique is “bad”, and so we hide. And those impure thoughts are hidden in darkened corners of our mazes, trapped in locked closets, guarded by wary soldiers.

But, every so often, we find our way back to that small room, and the guards avoid our eyes, and we rediscover ourselves. We find sanctuary in the unopened space, and quickly shut the doors behind us, lest our sparkling secrets are spilled.

It’s a closet of glitter and unopened boxes and the smell of photographs. It’s jars of buttons and déjà vu and moth-eaten gowns, and it is our private place. We open the doors late at night and the secrets spill from our maze into our real room, into the dark.

It’s this room that connects everything. It is where our dreams exist (tiny figures in heavy shoe boxes) and it’s where love begins. Because to love, we have to allow someone into our secret room.

They take in the scent of our hidden things, our fear of exposure, and they unzip their hearts and we see the sweet innocence trapped in their own room, and we understand. Because if there is not understanding, if there is not soul sharing, there is not love.

(Not my usual style but a change of tone was badly needed!)

The hard way.

You pause, and take the pictures in your mind, you look back at all that you have done. The crippling pain is unbearable, those who have left, those who have imprinted their mark on your soul. Footprints and echoes of thoughts, was it all worthwhile?

The depression grips you, vice like unrelenting, sure you have been down this road before. But like a self defence mechanism you forget the overwhelming pain, that leaves every breathe you take so painful, wishing to god or anything you may or may not believe in to take it all away.

The worse part is being scared you will live through this, the nervousness in you the sickness to the pit of your stomach you battle through sometimes minute by minute crippled but you don’t have crutches or a wheelchair, people say you look tired. Doing nothing can destroy you, as you sit there all your energy focused on just trying to cope with the pain inside you, for the hope tomorrow it will start to ease away.

So selfish you feel to those around you, better of without you, because they hurt when you hurt another love another friend walks away because you did it all wrong, just trying to explain you. Wishing that you did not say what was said, or lashed out trying to explain that pain that mocks and slowly takes your whole life away.

1000 words I wish I could say, to make that better to take their pain away, to understand to love your heart feels torn apart, to take those moments, don’t hate me for my disease the one that consumes me, I am doing the best. Judge me but on my heart and how I am still even here today, fighting though I am in so much pain. Fighting so that we may have another day, I mean you no hurt, neither any harm, I know I am broken but you could fix me with your gentle arms.

To those who are fighting, depression, heartbreak, or bipolar. Self harming, overdosing, drinking or just not eating through their lives, there is strength inside, look in the mirror, look in your eyes, if it is too late for me, remember the words I give you.

You are simply amazing for fighting through this, you are incredible for just even managing to breathe while all this is going on. One day peoples perception of mental illness will change, and that in part is thanks to you. You are stronger then you believe, because you are still here despite this pain, despite what you have to go through every day.

I just wish I could say sorry to those I pushed away, and those I hurt on my way. Your names inscribed on my soul, I will learn like I always do the hard way.