RSS Feed
Jan 5

There’s Light at the end of the Tunnel

Posted on Tuesday, January 5, 2016 in Family, Philosophy, Rantings, Something to think about

No there fucking isn’t.

I would like (if you don’t mind) to have a rant about cheesy expressions.

There IS always a light at the end of the tunnel, and you might find it every now and then, but then a small and very strange force from the darkness behind you sometimes coaxes you back and tells you that things aren’t so bad in the darkness. This is probably because if you look carefully enough, there is a lot to be said for the darkness that comes in between the start, and the finish. In that darkness, you learn things, and that’s good. When you hit the light, it’s finished and that’s just boring. There are always new things to learn, so darkness should be embraced no matter how difficult it seems.

‘BE YOURSELF’

You can never entirely be yourself. At best, you’re 10% of yourself. Most of the rest is just bacteria. So, next time you’re in a meeting with 20 people, know that you’re actually in a room with 2000 trillion microbes, and only 3% of them are paying attention to what you’re saying. Most of them are smelling you and want to invade you.

‘BE TRUE TO YOURSELF’

I love this one. I don’t know anyone who knows what themself is. If everyone knew who themself was, then there would be no need for conflict of any sort, if you think about it, and conflict is necessary. Everyone should lie to themselves on a daily basis. This way, you either force yourself to stop feeling guilty about the nice things you do for yourself, or you coax your brain into making your body do something different. I would encourage an imaginary friend who can be true to yourself instead, that takes a lot of pressure off, and gives you someone to blame if you screw things up. Avoid mental institutions though.

‘THE GREATEST GIFT YOU CAN GIVE SOMEONE IS YOUR TIME’

This just makes me feel guilty. I can’t give my children most of my time because I can’t multiply myself by four. And that’s okay, because I’m still feeding them and clothing them and doing stupid dances in the kitchen to entertain them while the spaghetti is burning. Even with one child, time is precious. Even with no children. Sometimes you can give someone a whole lot of time when you think it’s right, but it really isn’t. Maybe you’re sick, or sad, or pre-occupied, and the best time you can spend right then is time mulling, or sleeping, or sipping tea. Time is relative. That four minutes you spend calling your friend out of the blue can feel like 500 years worth of friendship to them, because it was at the right time. Or not, if you’re interrupting their nap. It’s a bit of a gamble, and very complicated. Do you know what I mean?

‘KEEP FIGHTING’

Telling someone who is very very sick to ‘keep fighting’ is like telling the rain to stop falling. Either it does, or it doesn’t. Umbrellas are nice. And a quiet ear.

‘LAUGHTER IS THE BEST MEDICINE’

Until the next morning when you remember what you were laughing about and then you feel like an absolute and utter complete gobshite. And then you remember that nobody else feels this way except you. And then you laugh at the memory, and the cycle completes, and you’re in a loop of embarrassment that only exists in your own head. But you still laugh when you remember it, usually in a queue for something. Again, avoid mental institutions.

‘AWARENESS DAY’

I declare this next week ‘bits of old scraps of paper awareness week’. Because I can. DON’T THROW YOUR OLD BITS OF PAPER AWAY! DOODLE ON THEM INSTEAD! SAVE THE PLANET! SAVE A TREE!!! etc.. etc.. (tomorrow shall be National BellybuttonFluff awareness day)

‘TODAY IS A BRAND NEW DAY!’

No it isn’t. It’s nothing new. It’s been happening for billions of years. The sun rises, the sun sets, days are a man-made invention so there’s really no such thing and it doesn’t really start at any set time. Maybe each 24 hours isn’t a day at all. Maybe we should embrace every 4 hours, every  5935 minutes instead of re-setting the clock at 6am arbitrarily because someone told us to. Happy New 36o,987,243,092 minutes everyone! Randomly celebrating time and existence for no reason should be compulsory, out of the blue when it’s least expected. Like a non-birthday, if you will. You don’t even have to say it out loud.

‘THE OLDER I GET, THE WISER I BECOME’

This is true, but it’s also false. Puppychild once told me (when she was 4 years old) that I’m bad and that’s not good, but I’ll never be good and that’s not bad.  I think that’s the best advice I’ve ever had from anyone, ever.

‘A FRIENDLY EAR’

Ears are just cartilage and flesh. They also are home to the smallest bone in your body, and are responsible for keeping your balance, even when you’re drunk. They’re amazing things, but they’re not friendly… they’re fairly impartial unless you stick a Q-tip in too far in which case they get fairly pissed off.

o0o

I know, I know. I seem to find the price of everything with this post, and the value of nothing, but I like being cynical. The most valuable things that motivate me are those expressions that excite the silly in me, the things that poke fun at life because that’s the only way to get through it all, I think.

Oct 10

In her shadow

Posted on Friday, October 10, 2008 in Philosophy, Poems and things, Something to think about

I remember when she was born, my Emily.  We were close at first, she and I would spend hours talking and trying to make sense of the world, sometimes long into the night.  When we were finished I would lie beside her and keep her warm and safe in the knowledge that she was loved unconditionally.

As she grew and other worldly interests held her attention, we spoke less and less… she slowly forgot about me which is the natural order I suppose.  Nevertheless I stayed with her.  I walked with her through dark evenings on her way home from school and held her hand.  When she wrestled with the enormous volume of schoolwork that had been laid before her, I didn’t interfere, instead I quietly placed helpful material in her path to aid her inspiration, but she never thanked me for it.

I remember well the early days of her marriage… a misplaced match by all accounts but I said nothing, for it’s better that she learns from her mistakes.  I watched her anguish as she slowly realised her husband was not the man she first thought he was and I remember the worst night of all… the drunken tornado of abuse she suffered, left crumpled on the bedroom floor like discarded underwear, with violet bruises erupting on her beautiful complexion.  She lay on the floor with vomit dripping from her hair and fresh blood seeping from her recently inhabited womb and I said nothing, for all I could do was sit beside her and hold her tightly, trying to help her feel that it wasn’t a way out she was now looking for now, but a way back in.  I couldn’t hide the pills from her that night, all I could do was grasp her hands and lend her my strength – I poured wordless encouragement into her heart until the morning came and kept her alive – kept myself alive.  I think she remembered us that night as we used to be… forgotten childhood friends… though I can’t be sure.

How she grieved for her lost child!  It was a source of infinite comfort for me, ample thanks for the love I’d given her in the past and I told her so, even though she couldn’t hear me.  I explained to her in her dreams one night,  I explained that the child was an error, that it could not have been born, for its soul belonged to me.  I explained that one day, when she departed, I would be born to a different mother and it would then be Emily’s turn to nurture my mortal soul.  This is how things work with Guardian Angels, this is how it has always worked.

I stay in her shadow now… I push the forceful words out of her mouth when she needs strength, I close her eyes to the things she should not see and I turn her in the direction of the things she should.  I think she knows I’m here – she feels the warmth of my support and berates herself for entertaining the notion that I exist but she still knows deep down.

Just like you know deep down.  On those nights when the silence seems oppressive and you feel despair clawing at the edge of your mind, know you’re not alone.  Right now you’re being loved by somebody you’ve forgotten all about but it’s okay, this is how it’s meant to be.  Stay very very silent and you’ll feel it, listen closely and you’ll hear it – the love of your minder, your connected soul.  There’s no such thing as an imaginary friend.  We’re very, very real.

Image source