Endurance End

I can’t remember if I read it somewhere or perhaps I heard this from someone… that “suicide is never planned”.  I don’t know how true it truly is.  This is apparently so because if we “plan” a suicide, our subconscious or our unconscious will start creating fear or presenting obstacles to the “plan”.

So then my concern is when we do snap… how long it takes for our enduring self to snap… when does the endurance turn to a folly to be put an end to…  I may not only be talking about “suicide” here, though.  Think “domestic violence”!  Many cases of domestic violence show a woman enduring… enduring still… and then one day she decides enough is enough… she decides to put an end to her endurance… she decides to show the perpetrator his/ her folly… often the perpetrators may be persecuted… often not. 

Anyway… my question is –>

When does enduring become unendurable enough to be ended?

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via Daily Prompt: Folly

Bear Hug

Weekly Photo Challenge: Good Morning

THIS WEEK, SHOW US A PHOTO THAT SAYS “GOOD MORNING!”

It could be a shot taken during your morning walk, the morning vista out your kitchen window, your cat doing a pre-breakfast stretch, or a textured close-up of your oatmeal bubbling away at the stove.

Good Morning

Morning’s a struggle

against yawns,

yearning for a snuggle

Where’s my Bear?

An unkempt bed, a manhandled bear stealing a snooze while I have to make ends meet – that’s my morning glory.

The Silent Mother

That care in her touch!

Hold my hand, son

and walk

to the bus, we’ll walk

That trouble of letting go!

Off you go… careful

There you are

Are you comfortable

That smile in her face!

my son

my little darling son

won’t you always be little for me

The way she beams!

Tears brimming

of joy

hope pride delight

 

 

With Love…

Now, I may have chosen to be single but it doesn’t mean I have been able to dodge the stupid arrows from the Cupid. I have loved, laboured and lost ~ all for the LOVE of being single.

Some of the relationships I’ve had almost foiled my quest BUT in the end these have taught me lessons to last this single’s lifetime!!!

Lesson# 1

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The first fling is actually about my first fling. The second one may not be my second fling so just cut me a slack here. We were both very young and highly experimental.  His experiment was related to substance abuse [Isn’t that a better word for drug addiction?] while I was experimenting on my observational skills.

After the doomed much-awaited break-up, we became buddies. What he said then has in a way shaped me for who I have become after. “You accepted me with the addiction and all, no one’s every done that before.” It was nice to be acknowledged.

But what’s important is the life’s great lesson I learnt and thus resolved that substance abuse is going to be non-existent in my world. I learnt drugs can ruin lives. Maybe that’s one reason why I turned a teetotaler (only drug I’m struggling to beat being that nicotine).

Lesson# 2

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The second fling, being mentioned here, taught me all that I could know about art. When he talked to me about Monet, I googled “MONAY”. I was that bad.

I understood and learnt a lot about art, to be able to see him eye to eye maybe but it definitely helped me. I started frequenting art exhibitions and suddenly it was a whole different world.

I started writing, even. As it is when we talk about artists they’re not just limited to canvasses now, are they?

Lesson#3

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The third fling proved to me that Hollywood romances aren’t just for the movies. He was just another regular guy and love for movies is what had brought us closer enough to fall in love with each other.

He showed me what “kindness of a stranger” phrase can actually do in reality. The lesson I learnt from him is that it doesn’t take a lot nor does it cost a penny to make another being happy. It was wonderful being with him and I am a changed person, in a lot of way, thanks to him.

Lesson#4

Errrr….Which one’s the funny side..?

The fourth fling I am going to mention never had that fairy-tale sorta beginning nor the end. However, what I learnt from that relationship may be worth a lot. This guy taught me how to laugh my way out of adversity. Sense of humour and how desperately we need it is what I learnt from him.

He was this kind of a guy who would say the worst possible thing in a way you wouldn’t know how to react but to laugh out loud. Maybe because of this fling, I am able to see humour in everything good or bad. I don’t know how good or bad it actually is, though.

Lesson# 5

o well!!

The fifth fling taught me everything there is to know about L.O.V.E.

The most important lesson I learnt then was – there is such a thing as “unconditional love”. The relationship did not end in a “happily ever after” in retrospect but while we were at it, happily ever after was as close as it could get.

• I learnt that I could be loved with flaws and all.
• I learnt that I was good enough and that I didn’t have to pretend to be someone else to be accepted.
• I learnt that being on the receiving end is more difficult than being on the giving end.
• I learnt that feeling insecure is not the end of the world.
• I learnt how to look beautiful.
• I learnt heartbreak can actually hurt physically.
• I learnt what it was like to cry for a loved one.
• I learnt why some people give up, even life, when it all ends in the end.
• I learnt how to survive a heartbreak.
• I learnt everything there is to learn from a relationship from this fling. 

All’s well that ends with a lesson learnt well…

Standing Out

Daily Prompt: Standout

by michelle w. on August 15, 2013

When was the last time you really stood out in a crowd? Are you comfortable in that position, or do you wish you could fade into the woodwork?

                                  _/ \_

Standing out has always been a cakewalk for me, somehow. Maybe it’s my voice or it’s the way I am, I mean my personality. I do things I like to do regardless of how I may be regarded and that’s why or how I may have been an easy spot in the crowd.

In school and college, I was scared of any kind of limelight and I sailed through those days without being noticed to find out later I hadn’t quite succeeded. SO MANY PEOPLE REMEMBER ME as the one who stood out in the crowd. People remember things I don’t remember doing or saying and I retreat [in my mind] trying to recall if they’re telling the truth or if they’re actually making it up. How could they even remember me? The jitters it gives me bumping into anyone from that ERA :sigh:

In my family, too, I am considered as the go-to-cousin in terms of picking out the right career path and crazy things like that.  How’d I know? If I knew, wouldn’t I be doing the right thing?!? But no, if I don’t “counsel” I am the cousin who’s got an air about me. Seriously!?! I really want to know when or how did this whole go-to-cousin thing came about, I seriously do need to know because only then I’d be able to CTRL+Z then.

Laugh as you may but I am the most sought-after friend for relationship advice. My friends know about my eternally single status and yet. Honestly, most of the time I only listen to them. They spill out their pros and cons and then they think it’d be ideal to stick to point 1, 2 and 3. I nod my head. Next thing I know they’ve decided to go with point 11 and I have my nod ready steady style. They go back hugging me for all the worldly advice I’ve just given them especially for that point numero 76. Only at the end of the day, I am the one standing wondering “what just happened?”.

Last but not the least, I know how big a failure I am but people think I’m a story of success in the making [never written]. At times, I can’t resist myself asking them why why why…. why do they think so!!?  Well, they tell me I am a success in terms of being content. Well, what’s content? Isn’t that the thing that comes in the first page of a book about items or topics or chapters within!?!?!?

However, all this unintentional standing out  does come with a price. Some of my friends have accused me of trying to be the centre of attention and many have told me to tone down. Indeed, I have always stood out in a crowd but only from the crowd’s point of view…. never mine.

Anyway if at 42, I am delivering a speech like the one below…. then I’d have stood out from the crowd from my own point of view —>

Worse than hitting ROCK Bottom

When one’s hit the rock bottom and is condemned for all eternity to be stuck in the abysmal rock bottom and the only silver lining one sees is the crevice that one cannot reach… and then one may think, “Things cannot get worse than this…” and one sighs and adds “…nada… no way… there can be nothing worse than this…”.

Hitting rock bottom [aka s1ngal’s attempt at sculpting]

Inevitably, things worse than the worst that then happen to one is that one adapts to living there. One makes a home right there – carving and etching one’s way through the rock. No sooner has one begun the adventure, one sees oneself enjoying that s***hole. One befriends the carvings and carves out a statuette and now one’s a sculptor.

One’s become a sculptor who can sculpt with one’s bare hands [fingers and nails] and now one looks at one’s dexterity and knows one deserves a pat in one’s back. Sadly though, one, being on one’s own, has no one to share one’s feat with. Who knew… One’s could become a sculptor!!!

But….errrr…. hang on a minute!!! Wasn’t the only thing one wanted to do was to get outta there? What happened then??

1. For the first question, the answer is – Yes, one always ever wanted was to get out of there.
2. For the second question, the answer is – Then… well worse than hitting rock bottom happened.

Now, learn from the Great Ms. Rowling

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Seven years after graduating from university, Rowling saw herself as “the biggest failure I knew.”  Her marriage had failed, she was jobless with a dependent child, but she described her failure as liberating:

Failure meant a stripping away of the inessential. I stopped pretending to myself that I was anything other than what I was, and began to direct all my energy to finishing the only work that mattered to me. Had I really succeeded at anything else, I might never have found the determination to succeed in the one area where I truly belonged. I was set free, because my greatest fear had been realized, and I was still alive, and I still had a daughter whom I adored, and I had an old typewriter, and a big idea. And so rock bottom became a solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life.

– J. K. Rowling, “The fringe benefits of failure”, 2008.

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To hell with “When life gives you a lemon, make a lemonade”.

I say I DO NOT WANT LEMONADE. I say I DO NOT WANT TO BE A SCULPTOR. Now when one thought things couldn’t get worse, it just did. Adapting yourself to your misery is actually worse than the misery itself.

 Had I really succeeded at anything else, I might never have found the determination to succeed in the one area where I truly belonged.

Bottom line [from my rock bottom] being I do not want to succeed in sculpting.  I may have been busy enjoying sculpting at the rocks with my bare hands but at the end of the day I’m just making a lemonade that I DO NOT WANT. Making lemonade isn’t the one area where I truly belong.

Ergo, a new quote [from the ever aspiring writer, never one]

When life gives you a lemon, WRITE ABOUT IT… duh!?!

 

FTW’sB

The more I’ve tried to ignore the Writer’s block, the more it’s blocked me and got my brain clogged and now I am paralysed. So seriously F [to stand for the F word], T = the and W’s B = Writer’s block.

I’ll write. Yes, I shall write. I shalt write. I am writing… errr typing.

• I’ve read books to “lift off” this so called W’s B, didn’t work.
• I’ve watched movies – the one with Clive Owen playing Hemingway. Still didn’t work.
• I’ve read fellow bloggers’ blogs – still no work.
• I’ve tried being creative by taking pictures [to keep the count for my blog posts], I ran out of creativity. So, yes… that, too, didn’t work.
• I’ve looked at the blank page that simply stares back at me with little icons one “Add New Post” on the top – didn’t get me to writing.

So seriously, before I give up on writing altogether [in the hope of getting this writer’s block unblocked], I’m taking the road less traveled and writing whatever comes to my mind – until my mind runs on empty.

 

i LOVE what i LOVE

I am who I am and i LOVE what i LOVE.

I’ve always been vocal about what I love – I’m saying “what” not “who” so do not get any ideas :thinks she’s made a brilliant remark here: [PATHETIC, I know]. So yeah, back to me being vocal about what I love – things I love.

There was a time I could never get enough of those potato wedges – I used to gulp and swallow and munch [not in that particular order or any other order for that matter] these things and still come back for more. Now, the reason I said “I am very vocal” is because when I fall in love with certain things – I just keep chanting them like some kind of mantra. I keep saying how much I [used to] love these wedges. My neighbours get sick and tired of hearing me rant about these things that I’ve come to love so much [as they hear it way too many times to not get “sick and tired” of].

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But guess what, eventually the same “sick and tired” listeners get tempted and they give in to them wedges. The worst part then is that they too fall in love with these things and I can’t believe it’s the same listeners who once got “sick and tired”. The worse than the worst part again is now I hear me [my words] coming out of their stuffed [with wedges dipped in sour cream and sweet chilli] mouth. Talk about plagiarism :sigh:

I love things – yes, I love them to bits and I keep saying it over and over. That’s the way I am. When I love things, I love them unconditionally… there’s just nothing that could ever change my unconditional love…

…And then inevitable as it is, I move on… while my listeners are still hooked to it. Now, here comes the best part. Once I move on, I normally don’t go back to where I was and just the way I am vocal about things I love – well, I’m equally if not more vocal about the things that disgust me. My words coming out of another being [that too after I’ve moved on] disgust me. So, I’m not only vocal with words but with my facial expressions, too.

The better than the best part is – the confusion in their faces.

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Hope sweet Hope

It’s embarrassing to know that your friends *with money* are embarrassed to be seen with you *without money*. But hello… I have ambitions and I have plans.

Some day I will get my unwritten book published, which is going to make me oh-so famous… and popular. That day, YOU all i.e. friends *with money* – yes YOU all, the ones who are snubbing me now… yes YOU all will not have the pleasure of having been acquainted to this bestselling author.

YOU know why… well I’ve got a plan. It’s because I wouldn’t have used my name – no, I’m not leaving it anonymous. I’m going to get a good friend’s name on it – as the writer’s. She / he will have never known YOU all.

Yes. And so, before I write that amazingly great book I must find that good friend.

And so, I shalt wait. Hope is where my heart is… Hope sweet hope!

Bad Days: Revisited

When things went bad, it really did. I’m just revisiting the time between mid December 2012 to mid January 2013 – I am doing this because:

1. firstly, I need to know if I was really down in the dumps or was my mind playing dirty filthy tricks
2. secondly, I need a closure if I need to start afresh.
3. lastly, I do not want to go down the lane ever again.

So what happened?

A friend called to inform me she’d be coming over for a week. I was glad to have a friend around – after all it was the festive season and so on and so forth. Next thing I know, she here with her fiance. Next to the next thing I know, her fiance is here with his mother. They all wanted a “change of scene”.

Now, although I do live by a lake – it, in no way, means I am filthy rich. Luckily, I had the house for myself – my roommate having gone away to enjoy her holidays. I gave up my room for the mother out of respect, of course. Then, we pitched 2 tents – one for the couple in love and one for me.

• I was homeless. I didn’t have the warmth of my bed and I lost the undisputed remote control over my TV.

They arrived on 26th and I was having a good time, sans my room, sans my TV, sans my bed – but a good time, I was having. I didn’t want the festive season to be anything other than a good time.

To make up for the missed Christmas gala, we decided to make a campfire and have a good dinner. It was then that my friend told me 27th being her fiance’s birthday, that we stay up till midnight. Once the clock struck 12, we sang the “birthday” jingle and we decided to call it a night around 1 am. By then, the fiance was drunk, totally pissed. When we finally parted ways, I heard him call out my name. Once in my tent, just when I was tucking myself in my phone rang. It was the fiance. He had called to see if I was okay.

• From the very next day, the couple started fighting/ arguing about things. There was a strange tension between them.

That night, my friend slept in my tent. Their rows were ear-sore. The next night, she came to my tent again and then I sent her back because I needed some space desperately.

• I wished they’d leave. I didn’t want them to stay through to January. I didn’t want them around.

That night, there was no yelling around and so both of them came to my tent. I got into talking – about how it’s sometimes awfully awful to be living the way I am. The fiance was listening – very sympathetic and very responsive – he was saying all the things I wanted to hear. Encouraged, I kept at it. Then, out of the blue, my friend intervened.

• She pointed out to me, my flaws – I didn’t know I had so many of them. Everything that went wrong was my doing. 

I put up a brave face and nodded my way into the end of her advice. We called it a night just after midnight. Once, they were gone I cried. I wish I could write why I cried but I am not that brave.

Next morning, she asked us [the fiance and I] to go shopping as she just wanted to sit back and relax. I badly wanted time alone [especially after what had happened last night] so I walked out while the fiance was having breakfast. She came running to me asking to wait up for him. I said I’d rather go alone.

• “Is there something going on between you two?” she shouted. 

WTF. WTF. I walked out, I didn’t want to be around them – not for another second.

Once I came back, I went straight to my tent. That night the fiance made some soup and my friend called me to join them for dinner. Ha!!

I didn’t speak to them until they left on the 2nd.

Post their departure:

I couldn’t figure out where, when how and why things could have gone this way. The damage had been done and I didn’t know my way back. Time being the biggest healer, the normalcy slowly crept back in – slowly but surely – although I was still hurting.

Then one friend presented me a bamboo ashtray that he had made himself. Sweet!! I know and I also knew the positive was flowing in.

The day I came back to blog and while I typed the first letters, my fingers froze. Then the messages from the Lunatic, NICOLITE, Koji San – I finally saw the light at the end of that dark, filthy tunnel.

The next day i.e. Jan 14, I dismantled my tent and moved back into my room.

1. I need to know if I was really down in the dumps or was my mind playing dirty filthy tricks – I was down in the dumps and it wasn’t my mind playing dirty filthy tricks. 
2. secondly, I need a closure if I need to start afresh. Check. Closure needed, closure delivered.
3. lastly, I do not want to go down the lane ever again. Never say never. I may go down that lane again but I’ll react better, I swear.

Friends, frenemies, enemies – Come who may, I will see the silver lining until my dying day….