There are sometimes moments in life where everything feels strange. Early in the morning is one of those. I feel as though I am dangling on the precipice of something, my heart hanging out of my chest, on a tangle of threaded veins and arteries.
Strange. I don’t know how to be myself sometimes. It’s hard. I try to hard to be myself, I find myself becoming rather forced in my words and actions. Strange, isn’t it? Ha.
There is no particular point to this post. I am a rather complex person, so whatever ends up splashing itself across the page when I write tends to be wistful and romantic in some way; that’s something you should expect, if you’ve been reading this blog for a while.
As per my adventures into the realm of sexual exploration, I have been trying to watch a movie with Anne Hathaway in it, called One Day. It’s a sexy movie, rather lewd for my tastes, but I can’t help but be a little bit fascinated by the sensual world the director manages to create using a handful of backdrops and actors. Someone else I have been listening to lately is Lorde. Oh, and a little known fact about me: I love eggs. Love them. To death. Not that I would actually die for eggs—although you never know, when it comes to people.
Even more lately, I have been thinking about all the people who I have been wronged by. It’s a fantastic subject matter. It makes you feel all poisonous and vindictive—for a little while. Let’s say, a good ten months, depending on how deep the wound went. But after that, forgiveness starts to seep in, like some unwelcome paint in water, turning the lovely clearness into some annoying sort of colour. Forgiveness. Imagine forgiving someone who murdered your child. I don’t think I’d be able to do that. But, then again, I have never experienced such a thing before; although I’m sure there are, in this godforsaken world, some people who have. All they have, in those moments, when it comes to it, is God.
I am not afraid. That’s not true. I’m not afraid to speak my mind, a lot of the time. I’m afraid of other things, like talking to handsome boys and giving speeches. I’m odd like that. And besides, it’s through this blog that I get to truly be myself, and voice whatever opinions and thoughts catch my fancy.
Life is incredibly complex. So incredibly complex. In order to keep up with it, you have to keep getting smarter, all the time. It’s exhausting, this business of growth and change. Exhausting, but exhilarating.
I don’t where this post is going anymore. I suppose posts like these are for the die-hard fans of my blog, of which there are a few—-just a handful—of you out there, of whom I am very appreciative of. Through my blog, I have met and talked to numerous wonderful and lovely people, a young woman from India, a young man from Britain, another from America, and it is such a blessing, to have made friends like you through my blog. I can’t possibly put it into words. It’s as if you’ve invited me into your home and given me a full course meal, and then hugged me good-bye afterwards—it feels very warm, and wonderful.
You know who else I like? Neil Gaiman. His books, The Ocean At The End of The Lane, and Neverwhere, are two of my all-time favourite books. I am re-reading Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Don’t tell anyone, but I plan on naming my children Charlie and Cordelia when I’m older and find a man and am ready to have children and do whatever it takes to rear them. Obviously, I can’t stop you from using these baby names, but use them at your own discretion—God sees everything, after all. Shhh. Let’s keep it a secret.
I’m continually publishing my book The Hive, chapter by chapter, bit by bit. It’s coming along rather nicely. I’m rather proud of it. It took me a long time to write, even longer to plan, and overall, I am happy with the end result. So far, only 72 people have read it, but that’s okay, I can take that: I didn’t expect it to become massively popular immediately, or anything even close. If, in my lifetime, it hits 1000 views, then I will be happy, because that means around 800 or so people read it.
That’s all from me for now. Oh, wait, one more thing. About forgiveness. I have met some truly horrendous and petty people in my lifetime. The kind of people who would steal candy from a child. Who would break your bone and then ask to sign the cast. But somehow, over time, I have realised that there is something inside of me that is purer and brighter than the darkness they are and will always be, and for some reason, that makes all of the pain they caused me nothing but clouds floating by in the breeze.