Sunday, 15 March 2015

March

It's been a while, I suppose not only because my time is very nearly exhausted, but because when I write on here it makes it true, it makes it concrete and I have to face it. When I write my thoughts onto this page they no longer can be turned over in my mind with a label that says: uncertain. On here it's certain, I can't lie to myself when I write.

I'm not only lost, although lost describes this feeling of hopelessness very well, I'm angry. So angry it's past the point of rage and shouting, it's reached that point of quiet near acceptance. It's the bitter and twisted sort of anger. I'm angry at the way life keeps testing me, and when I think it can only get better in the next stage it doesn't, it stays the same, or it feels worse. I'm haunted, that's the word, haunted by a thousand ghosts rattling their chains every night and every day, ghosts of dreams and hopes that were once substantial figures and are now fading into mist but their terrible cries linger on. I'm haunted by the knowledge that I'm not supposed to be here. If I didn't know better I'd say I was a lost time traveller who's machine has been stolen. Or I'm a soul that hasn't moved on, but has been left behind after the angel took the others. I'm not supposed to be here, I know it inside and it's ruining everything else.

I can't talk about this to anyone, not really. It's easier to explain with a pen than with my voice but there's no one I can really talk to about this.
Not even Jones.
Maybe it's because he's older or he has a more logically wired brain, maybe it's just that he's experienced enough to know some things wont change, and as they say "That's just life, get used to it"
Well I can't get used to it. I won't! Inside of me is the 5 year old who wanted to write stories and who spent the next 16 years being certain, absolutely certain that things were going to change. I've been pumped with too much expectation, too much hope to just accept this that is now. I sound na├»ve, I sound like a little girl who hasn't yet realised you can't grow up to be a princess. I don't care. Because there are some people in this world who won't accept the norm, they wont lie down and let life do to them as it will. I am one of those people. I wont be unhappy most of the time, the least we can hope for in this life is happiness and health. My health is shot to pieces...every day my arthritis aches and burns. I wont let my happiness suffer the same way.

I have to believe that there's more to life than this. There's got to be more than this mundane miserable routine.

I'm a writer. One of my lecturers said to me in his office before I left university:
 "Don't forget you're a writer, because in the real world it's easy to forget that. Write everyday, force yourself to remember you live to write. Otherwise, you'll go mad"

I'm a writer. I'll write myself out of this. I will. I'll always be a writer

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