When I think of child-me, my heart breaks a little. I remember me, sitting with a story-book, in a little corner, watching the adults fight with each other. They weaponised their words and turned them into little pellets of hatred that they flung at each other. Sometimes, I caught a few and digested them silently. I thought they went away, but years later I can still taste them at the back of my mouth, deep in my head.
Those who crave comfort
Children from unsheltered childhoods crave comfort and often grow up wanting to provide that to others. If this statement holds true, could it be a possible explanation for my passion for working with children?
I have very strong protective instincts that kick off into high gear whenever I see a vulnerable child. In that moment, I feel like I could take a bullet for them, if need be. Maybe, their helplessness triggers off a mirror in my mind. Maybe I see my helpless childhood in their eyes.
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A strangely bitter coffee
You’re sitting at a café when a stranger approaches you. This person asks what your name is, and, for some reason, you reply. The stranger nods, “I’ve been looking for you.” What happens next?
I stared at her, bewildered.
When she didn’t volunteer any explanation, I managed to stutter, “You have?”
The woman had a vaguely official air about her. She nodded briskly and said, “Come on Ardee, it’s time to go now. We are already late.”
By now I realised there had been some mistake.
“I am sorry”, I said as politely as I could. “I am waiting for my daughter here. She’s on her way from school now. We always have coffee here on Wednesdays.”
Just as I finished explaining, I was struck by an odd expression that suddenly passed through the woman’s eyes. I couldn’t place it until she leaned forward and gently touched my hand.
It was sympathy and for some unknown reason, it wrenched my heart.
“Ardee”, she said softly.
“You have to let her go now. She’s gone, remember?”
I stared at her.
“Come back, love. It’s time for your meds.”
Via the Daily Prompt.
How do you deal with it?
What do you do when you realise that you are mentally ill?
How do you cope with that?
We are all Groot
“…the atoms in our bodies were created in the furnace of now-long-dead stars.”- Carl Sagan
Wall-E and now Groot; here’s to finding heroes in the unlikeliest of places.
I think we can all learn a great deal from Groot. To give and to love selflessly without question.
We are Groot. We are all a part of each other, the earth and the infinite Universe around us.
There is a tiny bit in us that goes back all the way to the beginning of Time.
So we are older than our very own mortal existence.
As Carl Sagan said, we are all made of star stuff.
We are Groot.
Artwork by Tyrine Carver
Source: deviantart
When the time’s come
“Have you ever felt that you were meant for a higher destiny? Something light years above yourself, the people and the world around you? Have you ever felt that you were meant to work towards something that would completely consume you and render your petty ego-driven self completely surrendered and consumed?
Have you often felt removed from all the material trappings around you, or looked at things with the secure knowledge that one day, one fine day you will be called to sacrifice everything close and loved, for something else? For a cause that will then shape your very existence. A sacrifice that will cost you everything that you have and yet in the moment that you shall give up everything you have, you will get everything that you truly wanted, what you were truly born for.
In that moment, all your little mortal joys, sorrows, victories and defeats will somehow be consumed in this all encompassing fire. And for the first time in your limited existence, you shall finally see the true face of infinity that you are meant to walk into.”
The story is writing
You are being written.
maybe when all the noise is gone, the music shall make sense
all the dance shall stop one day
you shall start walking on a rather crumbly stage that smells of mothballs from past musicals
silver dust doesn’t last very long, even for people who never believed in anything but war
Night rain is a promise.
With the night came a soft waft of rain. It is the first rain of the season.
It is falling softly, making the city streets even more silent somehow. Summer will be here soon. That is why night rain is a promise. A promise of the burning sun, and the peace that the rain will always bring in its wake.
We’re setting fire to our insides for fun.
I want you all to listen to this song.
It’s called Youth and has been created by this group called Daughter. Look at the lyrics; they’re recommendation enough.
Shadows settle on the place, that you left.
Our minds are troubled by the emptiness.
Destroy the middle, it’s a waste of time.
From the perfect start to the finish line.
I am Not The Shit I Do(n’t) Do
Peer pressure is not always pressure; sometimes it is more like a light-hearted punch to your shoulder.
I was talking to someone today, and he was looking at pictures of the past ‘me’. After that he made the following statement that irked me no end,
“I wish I had also known you during those days. You were real badass, riding bikes and crashing up, drinking…”
I asked him what was ‘wrong’ with me now. To which he said, “Oh nothing, now you are more mellow”. (It’s been years since I turned teetotaller.)
dark circles, etc 