Don’t forget to live

So, I haven’t posted in a very long time. This is mainly due to the fact that I was busy, with you know, life and exams and stuff. And tonight, driving home from visiting my mom in the hospital, I realized how sad this actually is. Not that I haven’t been posting, but that I haven’t been writing.

You see, the problem is that we get so caught up in life and all its demands that we forget to do the things that we love. We forget to write and dance and paint and we forget to go for a run once in a while. We forget to take care of ourselves, phisically and mentally. We work and work and study and work some more and we never stop to actually BREATHE. We forget to actually LIVE this life and not just get through the day.

Yet we do not realise that life is so short, so precious. Every momet is a gift and every chance to do what we love is a blessing. One day we will be stuck in a hospitalbed thinking about yesterday and regret all the time that we lost to the demands of this world.

I am not saying that everyone sould stop working and studying and making a contribution to society. All that I am saying is: take a moment. Breathe. Remember that there is still good in this world and that there is still a purpose. You feel your heart beating in your chest? Every beat is another blessing, another chance to do something to change the world, to save someone, even if that someone is you. Remember to take the time to care for yourself insead of spending your life taking care of others. Do something that makes you happy. Write, read, dance, draw, paint, sleep, go for a run, spend some quality time with your pet, wash your hair.

All that I am saying is: don’t forget to live.

humanity

the sky swallowed the mountain
as they drove
on the wet road
on the mountainside –
polluted with their humanity
and their companions’
companionship.

they could see it all
from up there
on that mountainside:
they could see the town
below
and its lights
that drowned out
the stars
above.

and they could see
the corruption
and the anger
and the hate
of the people of that town,
of the people of the world.

but
they could see
a father carrying his daughter
on his tired shoulders
and her laughter that filled the air.

And they could see an old woman
kissing her old man
and their love
that gave hope to the world…

Our world is ill.

Our world is ill.
Our world is broken.
Our world is sick.

Our world is filled with the left overs of previous generations. We have to endure the chaos that they have caused. We have to end what they have started. In Germany, they are still paying for the Holocaust. In South Africa, we are still paying for Apartheid.
Yet the question is: Is there an end to this or is this the end?

We see our world falling apart, yet we never stop to do something to change it. We complain about the poverty and pollution and the draughts yet we never stop to pick up a paper, to offer a job or to stop wasting water. We keep on waiting, waiting on the world to change, yet we are the change that we so eagerly protest for. We expect to get better all on itself. Yet it is like buying medicine, not drinking it and expecting to get better. Maybe we should finally follow Micheal Jackson’s advice and “start with the man in the mirror”.

We are not blind, yet we struggle to see past the lies that we are fed.

We live in a corrupted society. We try so hard to fit in, yet all we want to be is different. We want to be accepted so we follow the rules. We tick the boxes. We do as we are told. And we are still unhappy. According to the World Health Organization (WHO), 350 million people worldwide suffer from depression. Our world is NOT a happy one. Why? Because we are told that happiness will come if we choose it and if we accept and love ourselves for who we are. Then we are told how to choose it and who we are supposed to be.

But we won’t let them tell us who to be, right? So we “rebel”. We are all so desperately trying to be different. So you wear your hipster clothes, tie your man buns, head to the gym. You listen to folk or rock bands, read old books, write deep poems, contemplate life. Now don’t get me wrong I too love reading a good book, that I found in some second-hand bookstore, while cuddled up in my over sized sweater, listening to indie folk music and drinking a cup of tea. But when we look back on it all, we realize that we aren’t so very different from the rest of the world. We fall under a category. We are labeled no matter how different we try to be.

We try to be unique. Yet if everyone is unique, then no one is. For to be unique one has to be one of a kind but if we are all one of a kind, we are all alike in that fundamental aspect.

We bully other people. We gossip. We judge. We bad-mouth. Then we stand in front of a crowd or sit behind a screen and tell people not to be bullies, not to judge, to be kinder and NOT TO BE HYPOCRITES.

We live in a world where crime is only frowned upon when committed by celebrities or presidents. We live in a world that thinks nothing of lying and cheating. We live in a world where we demand better lives, just to complain about them later.

We live in a world where “love” is now nothing but a lie. Love is a few months comfort, a year or two of roses and kisses and lies. Then the lies come out. The huge lie unfolds: It was never Love at all.

It is a sad world that we live in. Yet we accept it as such and live our lives to the fullest because “YOLO”, right? We turn from the horrible truth and live our happy lives. All the while waiting for someone else to fix our broken world, for somebody else to save us, to clean up the mess. But He already did, didn’t He?

And so we keep on waiting, waiting on our ill world to change, to heal, all on her own.

00:53

I find it easier to think when everyone is asleep 

It seems that there is more thoughts in the air not being thought

And so I can think them all

Or maybe my mind feels lighter when I can hear myself think, when the air is clear, free of opinions and expectations. 

sidenote

writers ought to write to survive

emotionally not

financially

the very tired girl

there was once

a very tired girl

she was so tired

of this word and all its ways

and all the tedious

terrible days

that she spent carrying

the weight of other’s expectations

and her own mind’s creations

on tired shoulders

Mine

This is my life.

This is my story.

That is my future staring back at me.

These are my choices.

They are my responsibility.

So keep your unwanted,

inacurate,

unasked for,

opinions

and orders

and ideas

away from me.

When I grow up…

What do you want to be when you grow up?

I have heard this question so many times before. And every time I was able to answer it confidently. A writer, an actress, an event planner, a cake designer, a hotel manager, a drama teacher, a preacher,a psychologist.

And this list goes on and on and on.

As you can deduct, I have grown a lot in my time and so have my interests. But since I was able to read, all I ever wanted to do was write. I wanted to write stories and books and even poems once I started to understand them. I wanted to feel a pen in my hand or my fingers running over a keyboard. I loved to see how the words grew as my story unfolded. I always dreamed of living in an old house looking over some beautiful view, whether it be of city lights or the ocean, I did not care.

Yet soon enough I realized that this dream would always be just that: a dream.

A writer is someone who is able to create a new word or put into words that which people g to hear or to see or to feel and I am definitely NOT that person. I can’t even put into words that which I feel. I can’t even capture that which already exists. How then am I supposed to be the person that creates a whole new world for people to escape to?

What do I want to be when I grow up?

I used to be dream of all that I could be in the far future in which that question would be answered. Yet here I sit: the future staring me in the face, screaming this question at me and I have no idea what I am supposed to say.

What am I supposed to be when I grow up when I can’t even do the only thing that I am mildly good at?

 

Have you ever

Have you ever felt alone?
Not the kind of alone you feel at night while thinking of all those sleeping, beating hearts that feel nothing for you.  Not the kind of alone that you feel when you stand alone looking out over a beautiful landscape and you think of all those beautiful plants and birds and insects and trees and all of nature that are oblivious to your existence. Not the kind of alone you feel as you look at happy, laughing faces of happy families and couples and friends and you see not a single person by your side. Not the alone that you feel when you realise that no matter how important you think you are and no matter how badly you are suffering and no matter how loudly you scream into the night,  nothing cares.- Not the speeding cars on the highway, nor the people driving them,  not the dark houses around you,  nor the people within. No star in the sky will stop burning and no cloud will stop collecting drops of rivers and no rivers will dry up because of the river in your eyes and the moon will still rotate around the earth and the earth will still rotate around the sun that will still
be
burning.-
No,  I mean
have you felt alone standing in a crowd of people who love you,  people who know every part of who you are,  people who would die for you?. Have you ever felt alone while knowing that these people would be comforting you in an instant if only you open your mouth and form the words “i am not okay”, knowing that there is a God that created the universe and he loves you? Have you ever felt so alone that none of this matters and you can feel the tears gathering in your tired eyes yet you blink them away because crying would make you feel better and you don’t really want to feel any better- do you?

Have you ever in times like these suddenly remembered where you are and that you are not alone and there IS beauty in this world and these people DO love you and there is a God who you died to know you and YOU ARE NOT ALONE.?
Me neither.
Not suddenly, that is.