Sunday, January 30, 2005

Realms of trust

Loosely quoted: "Learn from the mistakes of others, as one does not have the time to make them all oneself."
One thing is certain, one should certainly learn from ones own mistakes.
I've learned to be selective about whom I trust, and much like safe sex, I find abstinence the only sure-fire solution. If a secret is to be kept, don't tell another living soul.
But what then of a problem aired being a problem shared, fore trusting no-one means relying only on oneself.
I find myself needing to share sometimes, and will do so, but then spend an eternity worrying about what that person may do with the information. Afterall, if I couldn't keep stum, what gives me the right to expect it from others.
People tell me their deepest secrets and I hold them locked forever.
I wish sometimes, I had the confidence to do the same.
It is said, certain people are sent from above to teach us something or to support us through a time of strife. I wouldn't mind being readmitted into the realms of trust, so if anyone above is considering sending someone to teach me this lesson, they have my full blessing.
I can take it all on, on my own, and thank my lucky stars that I was given that knowledge.
But still, I am shown the sadness of it.

I have the T-shirt

Being mysterious is supposed to be a tantilising and seductive trait, and therefore positive. Honesty always at all costs, I believe, but doesn't one appreciate things more, when one has to work at them. Smiles given freely are stunning in their beauty, but smiles we strive to be bestowed become a true gift. Some people are described as open books, certainly I have met people where I can see their past, their present and their future simultaneously just by observance.
I make perfect sense to myself. Every emotion I have, every thought and feeling, every action and reaction makes perfect sense. How could it be any other way. And still, I have never known someone to know me. Am I a mystery to others? I am certainly misunderstood. With a hint of melodrama. Striving to be interesting.
My mother has a picture of myself and my younger brother hanging on her wall. On it, I am 14 years old, and I can so easily see myself as I was then. I loathe it, and request she removes it. Hang something of me as I am now, I will ask, but she refuses. She likes the picture.
What I really loathe about it is my innocence and my niceness, so easily discernable to all and sundry. The light that shines from my eyes. Not that I have completely lost either of these, but I am changed. In my humble opinion for nothing but good. I much prefer who I am today, the change that has effected my essencial character through the events of my life.
I would almost say that I was perfect then, and flawed now, but still this is definitely for the good.
My rose tinted glasses are only occasionally part of my outfit and easily removed at any time during my day.
There is nothing worse than ending up bitter, except perhaps to allow oneself to be taken for a ride.
The glasses and the gloves are off. I have the T-shirt and I am wearing it.

Beautiful corpses

Two types stand out at the gates of heaven.
Those who lived fast, died young and left a beautiful corpse,
and those who bumped along at a steady pace, not straying far from the path, making the most of each stop, smelling the roses, hearing the bird, one step at a time.
The rabbit and the tortoise, if you will. One runs as fast as they can and gets tired. The other travels at their own pace and arrives still.
The jury is still out on which is better, but I do know that I am one wishing I were the other.

Friday, January 28, 2005

Licence to parent

Truly it astounds me that anyone can have a child.
We require licences to own televisions, licences to drive, passports to travel, and so on.
Anyone who is rearing a child will tell you that not only is it the hardest job in the world (although also the most rewarding), but there are no instructions that accompany a newborn and all we have to rely on is our own basic common sense, thus making it the scariest and most risky job in the world.
I do my best, but I am never sure, whether it is good enough. As people we are fallible, and so make mistakes.
At least those of us, who are good and decent human beings do our best.
There are others who have children, but should never have been let anywhere near them and are thouroughly unfit.
The jury is still out on how strong my faith in God is. I guess, I am just a realist. I like to see what I know. The real test of faith is of course having it no matter what, and I have always envied those who have God to seek solace from in whatever they do.
I've heard and read stories of unthinkable atrocity. And one thinks, why does not an omniscient God step in and halt. Because he gave us free will. So the innocent suffer, because others choose to make them do so. I can understand all that. But sometimes children are brought onto this earth to experience nothing but merciless pain for their short life and then to die an equally painful death. What lessons does mankind learn from that. What could possibly be the point. If children are a gift from God, why would he bestow it in circumstances such as that.

Sunday, January 16, 2005

Ain't that a kick in the head

Isn't it ironic how life kicks you, whilst you are down.
Anyway, life is hectic and frantic these weeks.
I'll be back!

Tuesday, January 04, 2005


It may sound very strange, but sometimes when thoughts enter my mind that are too painful or similar, I shake my head to get rid of them. Its no secret that things occur on a daily basis that are just incomprehensible. Just when ones faith in the human race is restored, something else comes crashing in to the foundation of that belief. When the Twin Towers of New York were hit, I thought it wonderful that everyone pulled together and nobody took advantage of the situation. Certain horror stories have begun to come out of the tsunami distaster. It began with a broadcast from India, where the authorities were questioned on why help was not being allowed onto the Andaman islands. Since, there has been stories on looting, of one inspector hosing down his house in the face of dehydrated fellow countrymen, and the latest is rumours of childtrafficing in Indonesia. The local newspaper headline today was about a 4 year old picked up by unknowns in Thailand. I am almost hoping this is a case of someone overwrought by grief over the loss of their own off-spring that they knowingly or unknowingly have taken this boy as their own. In such a case, he will undoubtedly be treated well. The alternatives are horrendous. After all these children have been through, should they end up in some brothel or similar is just unthinkable.
I sometimes cannot cope with the pain surrounds me. Why do some of us believe we have the right to good things in life, more than the bare necessities such as a succesful career, a loving relationship, material goods, when there are so many that not only have nothing, but suffer nothing but extreme emotional and physical hardship.
I have begun to shake my head vigourously, when I hear some of these examples of evil deeds coming out of the tsunami disaster. To me, they are evil, and it is not a word, I often associate to anything or anyone. How can one loot, when people have lost so much. How can one waste litres and litres of clean water, when people around haven't had a drink in days. How can one hurt children? These acts are so callous, so as to warrant the description of evil.