I went for a walk.  I’ve spent all this time thinking and it was the last thing I wanted to do today.  But I still ended up doing it.

I can’t help but wonder at what I’ve become.  A bridge, a stuffed animal, a comfort zone. 

It seems essential to be something other then what we think we are, and yet the realization that I have achieved that at all is strange to say the least. 

I went down to the ocean and looked up at the birds.  The weather changed in an instant and the sun still shone as flecks of watery ice fell onto me from the sky, ruining the texture of my hair.  No light to make it look red and so there I was, brown and disgruntled.

I wanted to dive into the water, the Sunstars looked so happy and no matter how slow they are they could make it to America if they wanted.  It would just take time, in that we are alike at least.

I’m a small town girl in my jeans and brown leather boots.  My mom’s old jean jacket with the inside pockets like Mary Poppins bags.  You can’t even see the bulge of the Pepper Spray I always carry with me.

It’s not really the bears or the dogs I’m afraid of though, it’s my own stupidity that I would wander off into the bush alone.  It’s not really that dangerous, I’m in plain sight as I climb the cliffs, but I think I go alone because I like to pretend someone else is there.  A particular someone, and if another someone were really there, then I would have no way to imagine the other one.

It’s dark here when the clouds are dark and light when they aren’t there.  I love my Canada.  But I’d rather miss it when I’m away.

In my life there have been people who have told me that I seem to hold all the answers.  With clarity of thought and calmness of demeanor, It is to them as though I am able to heal any wound and sooth any doubt.

This is peculiar to me as most of the time, although try not to show it, I feel like a stumbling idiot with little potential to do anything. 

This experience has lead me to believe more then ever that all people feel this way inside, that it is with fear and trepidation that we branch out into the word.  With a feeling of inferiority we watch others who seem so much more confident then ourselves.

In reality, those people feel exactly the same way as the ones watching them.  However, they get along well in social situations because they are aware of this lurking state of mind and play up the appearance confidence on purpose. 

It’s all about what people see, not what you’re feeling.  Everyone wears a mask when they step out into the light of day; it is often one of insecurity, an inclination to dwell upon weaknesses instead of strengths.  When really, it should be the other way around.

It is not really possible for a painter who is unable to understand mathematics to become a world class mathematician, they may improve upon the skill, but it will never be what they were made for and enjoy doing.

Therefore there is no point in feeling insecurity or doubt over it.  However, that same painter could one day be illustrating books or displaying their work in galleries.  The thing they are good at can be improved and honed to perfection.

A person walking into that gallery is not there to learn mathematics.  They are there to look at the paintings.

Happiness comes from acceptance and confidence comes from happiness.  Be yourself and I guarantee you, one day, should you be so inclined, you’ll be writing the same article I’ve just finished.

Courageous

Roses in the midnight sky

Are dripping red on me

It bleeds into the sunset

And reflects upon the sea

The mist, it smells like iron

And I wonder at the sound

Of drums that throb inside my head

As on and on they pound

The darkness is just tangible

Beneath my fingertips

And as I taste the chilly air

The wind inside me whips

I am the most courageous fiend

That ever I have known

And true until the end of time

I’ll sit upon my throne

Idiots

I abhor the snobby rejects

Who insist upon the lie

That it really is much better

When your eyes are never dry

They don’t know what they’re saying

They are mad and soft in brain

Don’t they know you’ll catch an illness

If you stand out in the rain?

My skin is soft with moisture

And my eyes are red and raw

My feelings are all stunted

By the sharpness of a flaw

Rhyme is the only refuge

There is no safer place

You can hide your true expression

Deep inside your cheery face

As long as some time later

When you’re in your room alone

You can write it down in stanzas

A secret all your own

They say that some are different

That people aren’t the same

Despite us all requiring food

And having each a name

They say that life is wholesome

And yet empty as the air

They say that when you’ve had enough

You must not breathe despair

But I should rather you would go

And cut out all this pain

This tumor is still growing

And will soon drive me insane

Just for fifty seconds

I would like to be at peace

So when sorrow comes again

I might find some release

But that will never happen

As only I can know

And when I’m finally out of breath

There’ll be no place to go

Sometimes, when the clouds gather round their elders like frightened children flocking to their mother and darken the sky in the very fear they ought to wish to escape, the wind howling and the trees creaking in protestation.  I look out my window from my room in the sky, and wonder if this is not perhaps the world trying to rid it’s self of us.

Just like those frightened children, perhaps throwing a tantrum is the only way it knows to defend it’s self.

There are times when I have such a hate for myself and what I am, what I’m made of, that I have trouble remembering when I did not, or if I ever felt any other way at all.

We have no proof that the human ability to create is good, we have no validation that suffering should be avoided.  These are things that come to us naturally, and if we follow these guidelines then we are considered ‘kind’ or ‘good’ but there are other things that come naturally to humans, like greed and spitefulness.  Selfishness is another huge one.  How can we be sure there are some things we know instinctually that are good, and some evil?  And if that is even the case, if we have both, then we must ask ourselves why.

I’m not a religious person, I never have been.  I’m asking a question that has been asked before, I am not hoping for an answer.  I don’t expect one and I never will.  I suppose I just feel that things like this should be seen and wondered at by others, instead of locked away in some dusty journal hoping to be discovered like Lady Gaga.

If you disagree or are offended by anything I have to say, please tell me.  I'd like to know what your thoughts are.

When you look at someone you make assumptions based on who you think they are. We allow their appearances to represent them. As cruel as fate we pass judgment before we have discovered proof of a crime by any definition.

One day I was having an argument with someone, felt sick, said ‘I think I have the flu’ next moment I was on the ground out cold. The last thing I remembered was the darkness and the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes again was the ceiling.

Turns out I did not have the flu, I felt fine after and have not had any similar problems since.

But the point is, I got up, I fainted, and then a few hours later I was at a youth conference with a smile on my face and an itchy camera finger.

Looking at me, you wouldn’t have been able to tell that I’d fainted for the first time in my life that morning, written a song about it in the car on the way into town, and spent the rest of the day in mortal dread of blacking out again in public.

Most people try hard to be good people, to be kind. Let’s not judge a mind we know nothing about.