who are/were you?

Are you comfortable in your skin? is there a hollow or a ache, a longing or a absent sense of belonging? Yeah thats ok, i have it too. A piece of me is missing. I have my own black hole inside me. But, I am ok with that. I haven’t blogged in a long time, due to alot of reasons. When i become somewhat depressed if you will. I close down. I let very few people in. This is normal – I am told. My photography has always been a strength or resource to get me through the depression, to release the emotions the thoughts, to set them free. Before my lungs implode, from holding my breath, while screaming at myself not to cry. I learnt a very sharp lesson a few weeks ago.I was hospitalized because of previous physical problems. And in that week I learnt who everyone around me truly was. I had people who were two faced finally splatter how they felt and who they were at me. It was disgusting, and to be honest a welcomed relief. I wiped away the bitter and cynical slathering of a perspective that was projectile vomited onto me by this person. There was another person who i also let go from my life. This was a figure who comes with expectations when they are blood related, or at least paternal. But, i had alot of closure from their departure. A sense of relief and a knot that disintegrated in my stomach as soon as I saw the ‘real’ them. Again i wiped away the negativity that spat from their tongue. And like a snake shedding skin i felt anew. I decided to loose a man from my life and it was ultimately the fact that whenever i come to be in a situation whereby all i needed was emotional support, he is beyond unavailable. He was more….. ummm in a selfish coma of his own. But, there agin he always was. |I saw this man foe who he was, selfish and ignorant, and arrogant. I had seen these traits before, but they stung a little more this time.

When the fluorescent lights click off and the distant cough or shuffle of bed sheets on a ward are all you are comforted by. You realise who you actually would love to be there with you. The constant drugs through IV keep me numb enough not to scream or cry myself to sleep. The thoughts that whispered like the blue dressed ghosts on the night shift came and went. Leaving a sting in my body, somewhere. While in hospital i lost the choice. I had been told i was ‘lucky’ to survive. I had been told ‘it is time.’

It is a phrase that whirls as i go to sleep now….. ‘It is time.’ The time whereby a decision is made by you, for you. Or it is a decision made by another for you. I made so many decisions in that hospital stay. To lock two people out of my life. To welcome the one in and try to not loose him – i’m still working on that one. Also to never let myself believe or trust the intentions or words of the compulsive sleazy liar i knew didn’t care for anyone but himself and his needs. I made a decision he was a boy. He was/is/always immature, selfish and gutless. A coward to himself. I left that hospital knowing my dad loved me, even though he was estranged (through no fault of his own) for my childhood through to my adulthood. It was time to make a decision, and I did. I went to Paris and done my wedding work. I tried to make something work and I failed. Well i didn’t, just some people will never change its in their DNA. I decided to finish my last year in Uni and go to my graduation ceremony next year – I wasn’t going to go. And i have to book seats. So i decided that i want my dad to see one of my achievements, as he was denied so many. My uncle, whom is a/was a massive influence in my early years and later years in my life. Even his absences was a influence.A driving force so to speak. And my daughter as if it weren’t for her I am pretty certain i wouldn’t be here. And because she has had to sacrifice certain things while i study, and never once has she complained. The child who has given me more of everything, and anything, than i could ever hope to give.

The people in my life now are people whom I dearly love. From BBQs up my amazing dad’s, with my closest friend James, and my oldest friend Mark, to the ever surprising Justin. All of these men know me. They know me and observe me and connect to me for different reasons. These men combined have a weight to them. A sturdiness in my life. They have such vastly different backgrounds, and previous and current professions, and hobbies and interests. Yet, me my dad, James, mark and Justin sat with a current of intrigue and interest in each other. A genuine one a pure love, and energy driven by respect and principals. It would of taken my Uncle to of been there for it to be my favourite place and scene in the whole world. The lesson I learnt that night, was what comes with love. With the love I can relate too and understand. If i know someone loves me I can feel it. I can feel it in their energy their tone. And then i know i am safe. Thats all anyone wants to be, is to be loved and safe. With being loved as a child by my uncle, I felt, I was safe. A protector from the woman i called my mother. – so If freud had any theories the early childhood linking of love is a pretty solid one for me.

So now I am a month on….. I am free of cervical cancer. I am awaiting a big operation. I am at peace with the people in my life. I love and dote on each one and thank the universe every day for their existence. As I was able to compare the standards I should hold a man too, what a man ‘should’ be and what a person should hope to be. I am never going to be comfortable in my skin, locked in a purgatory with my mind. But, I am comfortable with being uncomfortable. I laugh alot, I smile at every beautiful sky. I watch the way everything can be magic if you look at it from the right angle. I am excited to close a chapter on a person I never thought i could ever possibly not want in my life. But, with what they brought with them, I am happy they took it all with them too. My anxiety is beautiful my nails are long. My quick witt is back and my dark humour. My passion for life and fun and love is seeping from every pour. I broke and now ‘It is time’ to put everything back together again. My way. For me. As thats what i deserve and i will take from the universe, everyone and everything that ignites me.

 

Finally today someone said to me “Being around you luc, it kinda feels like being around someone famous, or different – Like the way you light up, and are so raw and honestly funny. The way your are its like a bubble and when i see you in person its surreal. Its like you give me something, but you dont give me anything. I just feel good” – I am hoping that  what he said i took the right way. I am a spark, I am light, and I can make someone feel alive. Its a gift. Its what makes me, me. And those who meet me or spend anytime with me, will understand what this means. Today soothed my soul in a way i needed it lifted and rejuvenated my energy. (she says at 1am)

 

Its ok to be lost, as long as you’re not lost and hurting people. Thats not ok.

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Today frayed…

I woke today with a heavy mind, inspired to create a image, but lacking the courage to do so. I left the house today and went for coffee, it was a planned date. But the sour taste it left me with was not the quality or taste of the coffee.

People need to be whole. I have a habit of loving somewhat broken or lost souls. Through lessons and heartbreaks and betrayals, i actually spotted one before it turned into a destructive type of thing. Meeting people can be a beautiful thing, but the impression they leave upon you can be a stinging reminder of what you actually have to face up too. The impact we have on one another is some what lost in its importance. My medication needs changing, I need to readjust my life. The thing with medication is it strips you of something, sometimes feelings, or intensity. Other times it gifts you with things, mostly side effects. But all in all the medication for the mind is no medication at all…. its just a crutch, a painkiller to soothe the ache or the hurt, the thoughts the imploding thoughts that pierce our nerves. Medication always takes a bit of someone away, they change that person. I didn’t realise that until a ex pointed out how the medications change aspects of me. And its true. I have had my medication changed a few months back, and this time its not working, i have gone through the adjustment period, i have gone through being a zombie. I have even adjusted the dosage myself. Then comes the realisation, ‘its not working’. So then i have to face that i have lost three months of my life to adjusting to something that doesn’t work, and now i have to loose another three months in a medicated induced state adjusting to new pills. I have to identify which part of m has changed then…. and i have to see if these make me stable, which means i expose myself to all the things that trigger me, to ensure that these pills have my back and won’t kick my arse.

 

I know this guy and he is about to be re-introduced to medication, after trying to deal with it by himself for so long. I am proud of him for trying, but i also seen a look in his eyes that made me want to cry. It was the look of ‘i have no other choice’. I have feel that every evening when i take my medication. I have to look at my reflection and i see that look in my eyes. I have never yet seen it in someone else’s.

When is anyone ever whole? And do you need to be whole to be loved? as if you aren’t can you sustain as much, enjoy as much, or even appreciate as much?

I have never dated anyone who has to be on medication, normally i am the ‘one’ on the meds. I have never seen so much of a reflection in someones tone and eyes as i did today. It broke me in ways i didn’t know i could break. But i know that i saved two souls from a mistake. That made me happy and proud of me today. It will be alright in the end, and if its not? Its not the end.

I have decided that to celebrate i have booked another tattoo….. which makes me a little bit more happy. As its a symbol of actually things to come.

The puppeteer’s fear….

Theres love, and then theres control.

Which one you use on another human symbolize’s your insecurities, or lack there of.

Once upon a time…… there was a man, he was seen to be charming and sincere, he was seen to be attentive he was seen to be genuine. But, the tragedy of the story lay not with the princess but with the boy. As he never knew what love was.  He could neither give or receive the thing he wanted to feel the most. He met a girl, destined to meet, fate had decided this was what they both needed. They met, one fell in love, the other never did, he got the power. She was his puppet and him, the puppeteer.

Then one day after breaking in all of the ways a heart can break, shatter and splinter, crack and melt, hers did. She had no love left to give, she had bleed her love out in what she thought was a fruitless love. She crawled away, exhausted, defeated. Her mind was sore, oh so sore and confused. For why had fate gave her this man, this lesson, this hurt? she gained nothing, fractured faith, and injured perception of what she thought this man could be. She wallowed and healed and accepted the truth….. He never and would never love her true.

Then before the end, he returned, he tied again her in his control… he played with her mind, made her doubt the value of her worth. What he did not know was she was already too far gone, she had buried him. Fate had revealed the reason why she had to suffer so…. because this man and his cruel ways gave her something one day that not he could then ever take away. A chance. A introduction, to another man. He was tender, he was kind. He fell in love with this damaged girl and offered her nothing more than a key to his home and a place in his world. No coarse tone he ever used, no lies dripped from his lips, and he vowed to protect those he loved. He knew what love was and he knew the story … The story she didn’t have to tell him. He seen it in her eyes, he knew of the man that made her die and tied her in hell. He knew of the man who wanted to drag her back… and he offered her to go….. and she said no. In his arms she felt safe… in his home she knew she wanted to wait.

The puppeteers fear came when she no longer wanted to play… she had cut the strings, and chose to believe the red string of fate, was not cruel to her by mistake. She knew it was to lead her to this man who knew hurt, who knew sorrow and who knew love. Breaking free had never come so easy…… as soon as she seen what real love could be.

To be able to appreciate the sweet, one must be able to have tasted the sour. For the tastebuds to have burnt under the acid…. then slowly heal … so when you taste the sweet it makes love to your mouth, it intoxicates your mind and you know –  Nothing else will ever satisfy you again…..Not like this.

Broken knees … A love unseen…

I always blog a image that has plucked at the chords of my heart or mind. This one is no different. This image has done both. I have broken my heart many time over the same guy. I have picked the splinters from my heart and tried to rid the maggots which were his lies from my mind. I have taken razors to my skin and whiskey to my lips in a bid to drown or banish the negativity he left me with.

Like a peasant i would fall to my knees and obey, I would tug at his arm to let him know on my knees is where i would stay if he would just love me one more day. I kneeled in a pool of blood waiting and praying….. I worshipped who i thought was a king. Then i found maggots in my infected knees… they had crept in, …because i hadn’t been paying attention to me, or my health. I saw him,and nothing else. So did i keep these maggots alive harvest them until they grew to flies? Did i pick them out throw them to the side and then fall back to my knees…. Or did i for this last time try and save myself.

I stood up and realised it felt good. I turned to walk away, maggots falling like glitter from my knees. With each wobbling step the maggots fell and left me lighter. The blood on my knees turned to a blacked flaky paint and I seen he wasn’t no king, or saint he was my biggest mistake. I wobbled away and dared to look back ….

I walked through corridors and halls, steps and stairs, through hell and limbo. I nursed my self through the grief. I grieved for me. Not him. Now my knees are still purple and marble blue, but thats the only sign i ever loved a fool. I hold my mind and think of all the times i regret in my life… and not walking away ‘that’ day in May, will always be my biggest regret. Sitting on the bench in September i will hate and forgiving you for your cruel mistakes. One day i will wake and maybe i will make peace and forgive myself because i cant blame him….. i can only blame myself. So with my blame i will take time to rest my heart and soothe my mind … I am taking it one step at a time. I am learning to walk im learning to stand …. Im learning to trust and put my hand in another mans hand. His palm is not violent and his charm not repulsive… Im not blinded and Im not jilted I know nothings for keeps….. but a hopeless romantic like me can dream….

 

The Indecision of decisions

I fall short of being comforted by my decisions and the morality of them. When morals and feeling set their feet in the ring to fight to the bitter death, its hardly surprising regret is a scar we all carry. I am a sucker for a romantic love story, I guess its the little girl in me that saw many a disney princess, rescued or sacrificing something of value at a chance of the adventure love can bring. They all ended up happy, the cliche happily ever after. Did that stop existing or did it every exist in the first second of mankind. Is it a false facade to keep humans reproducing… or so are attention was so far distracted from reality that we can be bled to death and not even realise. I experienced the most profound love, once. They say you experience a kind of love once in a lifetime that never leaves you. Maybe he was/is mine. At the regrettable age of 28 (29 in a month to the day) I have experienced different types of love, and i have never loved one partner the same way or have i ever experienced love of the same kind from any partner. A blessing and a curse.

I never were a jealous girlfriend, but I’m a girl with feelings. I neither want to own someone with the power of love, and neither do i want to be enslaved to theirs. For every lover i have crossed paths with I have never found in them what i truly desire from love. Freedom. I believe love sets you free. I believe love is something that is the most dangerous entity in this world. And now love is something that scares me beyond recognition of the benefits that are wrapped in a bow at the start.  I am now maybe a cynic to love of the partner kind. I think of all the things i love about being alive, being a human. The warming sun on a summers day, laying upon my skin like a blanket. I imagine my lover with me on a grassy patch in some country. Any country even here, as long as you are happy, destination could be a cardboard box in a doorway with your lover or a sandy beach in bora bora. To me its not about the beauty of places, its the beauty in the memories i create in the places with the person i could not imagine my soul without. Upon this grassy patch, whether we are making animals or superhero from the sweeping clouds, or napping, we could in silence appreciating each other presence. Or he could be playing with my hair as i rest my head on his lap and he reads aloud to me, or I to him. Whether it be my favourite author or poet or his. It doesn’t matter as its not the words that matter its the way the person reads them with such a ignited excited passion or belief in their beauty it transpires into your ears and mind and snuggles their for a lifetime.

I suppose the coffee and cake in bed on a sunday morning, with crumple sheets screaming how much we loved each other the night before. Maybe its the long silent walks or the tour around a beautiful city on a spur of a moments drive on sunday. I like the little things. I adore the little things. Its not about buying me flowers and asking me to see their beauty its about taking me somewhere even just to your imagination and letting me see the world and its beauty through your passion and your eyes. Its the morning texts when the bed is empty, knowing the first thing i read is your appreciation and beauty in thinking of me when your not just in my bed. I also love the way someone loves me, the way they want a ticket into not just my heart, my bed, but my world, my passion my mind. To gain access to that is something i do not allow for many people or lovers as some i have allowed and lived to regret. I have chosen to ask a man to aid me in my passion to collaborate with me on something i find to be a massive step into my world. My photography, Not because i am wanting a male model or company, but because of the way i want to depict him as a man.

A man is a interesting opposite to a woman. And for every man i have shared even a hours company with i always find something enchanting about them. The way they like to enhance their status in a way to win my affection or attention. When they couldn’t even begin to understand me as the girl i am. I do not care for your car or bank balance your body fat or lack of the physic you have or the looks you have or haven’t been gifted with. I don’t care for what your education level is, or your culture or religion. The thing i care about is your passion or you having one. The way you can entrance me and teach me something that i do not know or hypnotise me with the way you have the need for art in your life. A man who knows who he is and is happy with himself. A man who finds beauty in the working of my mind or the words splattered on my page. I found this man and he intrigues me and to me he is the embodiment of what a man should be. And rather than seeing him in his mortal flesh i have and do see him in one of my images and for that reason i need to create that image. I need to bring this mere mortal into my world of love and pain and art and words and make me believe in both myself and my decisions again.  From this man i need something more than any other man has given me………….. I need him in his mortal form, stripped bare of everything but his soul. As of yet he has no idea as to the image i want to create, as of yet we have barely spoke of it. As of yet I am scared of the image and the significance if i can actually pull it off the way ‘I’ see this man.

My indecision…………..is varied from what flavour coffee to drink to who to reply back to with a message. From who to bother to even message first and what type of start i want to start my novel with. So when my hand sits on my camera i transform into the person no one gets too close too……’Anything you have to say, say it through the camera’ That is my mindset every time i chose to pick up my camera. That lens i stare into a devoid from meeting is my lover, my love, my freedom. Maybe the love for a partner is not real, maybe the only true ‘love’ you ever experience is that which you create, develop and embody with all your belief and passion and emotions into. Not because it pays well but because it is selfishly the only thing you can ever own, control, and will only ever leave you if…… you choose to leave it, or yourself. I can’t be what someone wants me to be, the standards they set, the expectations they have and the obligations thus in turn puts on me. But i can decide to be the one person who does not hurt me, or lie, or deceive myself, i can be the one person i can find comfort and safety in. I can be the person who loves me.

 

I have been in such a vile relationship i am now a tortoise …… I am tucked within my shell. I am safe, I am cosy and I am at such a distance from exposing any part of me I can now truly get to know me. I ‘am sure one day i will get a bit lonely or yearn for some affection or interaction and peer out at the world. But for as long as i have a book and my writing or photography for expression. What else do i need…………………….from anyone. As i have the things that make me happy, and make me, me. Though success is nothing if you have no one to share it with, travel is lovely, but lonely when you have only your eyes and can’t see the beauty through another’s. So maybe one day someone may pick up my shell i hide in, and sit there and wait with patiences love and care……. and maybe one day i will come out and love would of been ‘just waiting right there’ just waiting for me.

The image i have featured in this blog was a failed attempt at the image i wanted to create, but to me it symbolises something else too. But this i will keep a secret.