It has always been a given, that denial is bad for the situation. And it does nothing to heal only to make things worse. And as a general rule, yes I do agree. It's true and it makes sense.
But there comes a time, when you see denial in quite a different light. It's a subtle experience, this. The time when you feel the fear creeping in and you don't wanna admit it. When you get the silly notion that somehow admitting to it will only confirm it and make it all the more real. Maybe if I ignore it, it'll just go away or it'll never actually fully form and materialize.
I refer to it here in particular to thoughts and feelings. Does writing it down and/or saying it out make it all the more real and encourage it to shape and take form? Does acknowledging it means closing the door behind you and creating a point of no return per se? Does it make a difference not to then?
This of course, is denial. You fear feeling it so much that you just don't wanna admit it to yourself. So does not actually talking about it or really acknowledging it keep the door open for you step back to the safe zone before you started getting these pesky thoughts and feelings? Or is the door closed anyway the moment you realized or suspected that this is what you're thinking or feeling?
I guess it depends on who you are then. On how you function. It seems this way that denial, effective denial might actually be a skill. That if you're really good enough at it, then you might just be able to make it as if you never even thought about it in the first place and sidestep all the possible inconveniences that might occur.
Very useful skill to have, I must say. Hmmm... Interesting. *shrugs* I had hoped to be able to come to a conclusion on this, but I suppose all I have right now is a hypothesis.
The hypothesis being, if you're really that good at the art of denial then, yeah it might actually be beneficial because it'll actually serve the purpose it was meant to serve in the first place. But if you're not quite so adept at it, then the hell, it makes no difference. See, this is where it gets complicated. The moment you realized it was when you stepped past the point of no return, and no amount of supressing it or talking about it is gonna really make it go away. BUT, talking about it, discussing it freely and announcing it to the world and to yourself might give you the feeling that you're free now to expand on this feeling that you wanted nothing to do with in the first place. And that might lead to actually encouraging it. So... Acknowledgement is ok, in moderation? Oh shit.
Now that didn't really make things any simpler now did it? *smiles*
Thursday, 28 October 2010
Why Do You Make Me Feel, Like I've Got To Be Made of Steel?
I sat with Mademoiselle the other day and together, we sat in silence. She stared into the distance vaguely, only dazedly, out the sunlit window and the light fell on her face. A long tendril of smoke curled slowly upwards from her stick which she held away from her body, her arm draped over the side of the armchair.
“Why does he got to say that?” Mademoiselle demanded of me savagely, her attention fully turned on me.
“Why does he got to say that! It’s not true I tell you! I have got no emotions and that’s a fact. Why does he got to say all those lies about me?”
“It’s true, Mademoiselle,” I said slowly and evenly at her.
“It’s not true I tell you! It’s all lies! I’ve got no feelings and no one can say otherwise!” she spat in disgust.
I kept silent and held my gaze upon her.
She could see it in my eyes, in the melancholic weariness with which I surveyed her. It was a heavy glance, she didn’t like it. Not one bit.
Mademoiselle bristled with indignance. “I’ve not got it! I don’t!” she shouted at me with anger. “Why does he got to say that I do!” I could see her eyes glassing over with moisture as she shrieked at me.
“Why does he have to dig up all these things. I don’t got it, I’ve nothing to be dug up!” the tears welled up in her eyes, angry and possibly, heartbroken.
“Why does he gotta say that?” she slumped defeatedly back into the chair.
I sat in silence throughout her outburst, keeping my gaze lowered somewhere around her waist. She looked by far the most ruffled I had ever seen her. Indeed, I have never seen her with a hair out place before. She was always immaculate, impeccable, arrogance and steel. But today, she was just a little bit disconnected.
The silence lay heavy upon us and I watched a solitary tear slid down the corner of one eye, making a single passage down.
Still I held my silence. And we remained there, with the both of us sitting opposite each other across a small, round coffee table. I sat upright on my armchair, my fingers crossed in a steeple in front of my face, my elbows braced on the armrests, and she, slumped low and curled up slightly sideways in hers. Light stirs of smoke drifted upwards, almost immediately dissipating into thin air from the burnt through stick which lay forgotten on the floor.
Still I held my silence.
“Why does he got to say that?” Mademoiselle demanded of me savagely, her attention fully turned on me.
“Why does he got to say that! It’s not true I tell you! I have got no emotions and that’s a fact. Why does he got to say all those lies about me?”
“It’s true, Mademoiselle,” I said slowly and evenly at her.
“It’s not true I tell you! It’s all lies! I’ve got no feelings and no one can say otherwise!” she spat in disgust.
I kept silent and held my gaze upon her.
She could see it in my eyes, in the melancholic weariness with which I surveyed her. It was a heavy glance, she didn’t like it. Not one bit.
Mademoiselle bristled with indignance. “I’ve not got it! I don’t!” she shouted at me with anger. “Why does he got to say that I do!” I could see her eyes glassing over with moisture as she shrieked at me.
“Why does he have to dig up all these things. I don’t got it, I’ve nothing to be dug up!” the tears welled up in her eyes, angry and possibly, heartbroken.
“Why does he gotta say that?” she slumped defeatedly back into the chair.
I sat in silence throughout her outburst, keeping my gaze lowered somewhere around her waist. She looked by far the most ruffled I had ever seen her. Indeed, I have never seen her with a hair out place before. She was always immaculate, impeccable, arrogance and steel. But today, she was just a little bit disconnected.
The silence lay heavy upon us and I watched a solitary tear slid down the corner of one eye, making a single passage down.
Still I held my silence. And we remained there, with the both of us sitting opposite each other across a small, round coffee table. I sat upright on my armchair, my fingers crossed in a steeple in front of my face, my elbows braced on the armrests, and she, slumped low and curled up slightly sideways in hers. Light stirs of smoke drifted upwards, almost immediately dissipating into thin air from the burnt through stick which lay forgotten on the floor.
Still I held my silence.
Wednesday, 22 September 2010
What Andrew Said.
"He said I changed."
Mademoiselle and Missy looked at me from across the circular table.
Mademoiselle was sitting with one leg crossed over her knee, the stiletto heel of her boots jutting out pointedly as if to stab at the air. She regarded me with a sideways glance and a small smile that bordered on a slight, albeit friendly, sneer. One hand resting lightly against her chin.
Missy just looked at me earnestly, her eyes expressive, a cocktail of thoughts brought on by my announcement.
They had an opinion, these two.
"So what do you think about that?" That was Missy.
"What do I think about this..." "I think he's right." I shrugged. "I just don't know... what to make of it. You guys know what I mean."
Of course they do.
"I think you changed for the better. The old you was far too... Stupid. I mean, you were a pale shadow of what you are now! Barely even halfway there I think." Mademoiselle said.
"You had a milder nature back then," Missy bit her lip. "You're pink then when you're red now, in a manner of speaking. I mean, for the most of it anyway."
I told them that my friend had said I was better then, as a person. He said I was kinder, and basically... Kinder.
Mademoiselle snorted in disgust. Even Missy smiled.
"Granted he barely knew me, knows me. I probably put on a better social front then though. Or at least gave off a more "pushover" message."
"Look, you were less developed as an individual back then. Your world was a small town and your social circle was... Lacking. I'd say any change now is good change. You're becoming more of a person." Mademoiselle waved her hand with an air of finality.
"Well, yeah, but you did lose some things. For one, you yourself said you thought you were smarter back then." Missy interjected. "And you don't write anymore! That creative spark seems to have died out with you somewhat," she added rather pointedly.
I just nodded. They both had a point. We all develope as individuals through our experiences and exposure. I was a poor shadow of what I can be back then. Flailing to survive. Even now, I am barely half of where I can be, if I let myself. But that is another story for another day.
I scoffed. "I guess I was more interested in being 'smart' smart back then. Read more, remembered more. When I came to college I guess I had other things on my mind," I chuckled. "And that "creative spark" died when I began feeling like I was trapped in a glass jar and running out of air. Even now I am not entirely sure what really killed it. I just stopped being inspired."
"You lost your sense of wonder," Missy helped. "Back then even though you were from the inside looking out, at all the things you wanted to touch, taste and feel, you retained your sense of wonder at it all. Funny, I thought it should actually increase with you being 'out of the jar' now."
"In a way your spirit burned brighter then," Mademoiselle shrugged reluctantly. "Or maybe, without having a lampshade on it."
"Look guys, I like what I am now. It's not perfect and there're days when I feel that I wanna be somebody else as per the Pink song, but for all that I seemingly lost, let die or wither, I can't bear ever being the way I was back then. The thought literally gives me pain! I don't WANT to be the old me."
I sighed.
"I know I lost some stuff and maybe that flame, it did burn a bit brighter back then. I realize that whatever changed, it was not entirely for the better. Some were admittedly, not... improvements per se. But with every passing day, I am successively finding out just how stupid I was yesterday. So... that's at least good."
"Or just that your opinion changed". Missy added helpfully (not so helpfully). "Well I guess it can't all be good. No such perfect thing."
Mademoiselle was silent. Now THAT is unusual. We both looked at her.
She just lit a stick and exhaled leisurely, drawing it out as long as possible, before finally looking down at the both of us and saying, "You're right." "I think when you take it all together, everything included, you still come out on top. At the end of the day it's more good than bad."
"You didn't need us to come to that conclusion did you?" Mademoiselle narrowed her eyes.
I smiled. No. But having them helped.
Mademoiselle and Missy looked at me from across the circular table.
Mademoiselle was sitting with one leg crossed over her knee, the stiletto heel of her boots jutting out pointedly as if to stab at the air. She regarded me with a sideways glance and a small smile that bordered on a slight, albeit friendly, sneer. One hand resting lightly against her chin.
Missy just looked at me earnestly, her eyes expressive, a cocktail of thoughts brought on by my announcement.
They had an opinion, these two.
"So what do you think about that?" That was Missy.
"What do I think about this..." "I think he's right." I shrugged. "I just don't know... what to make of it. You guys know what I mean."
Of course they do.
"I think you changed for the better. The old you was far too... Stupid. I mean, you were a pale shadow of what you are now! Barely even halfway there I think." Mademoiselle said.
"You had a milder nature back then," Missy bit her lip. "You're pink then when you're red now, in a manner of speaking. I mean, for the most of it anyway."
I told them that my friend had said I was better then, as a person. He said I was kinder, and basically... Kinder.
Mademoiselle snorted in disgust. Even Missy smiled.
"Granted he barely knew me, knows me. I probably put on a better social front then though. Or at least gave off a more "pushover" message."
"Look, you were less developed as an individual back then. Your world was a small town and your social circle was... Lacking. I'd say any change now is good change. You're becoming more of a person." Mademoiselle waved her hand with an air of finality.
"Well, yeah, but you did lose some things. For one, you yourself said you thought you were smarter back then." Missy interjected. "And you don't write anymore! That creative spark seems to have died out with you somewhat," she added rather pointedly.
I just nodded. They both had a point. We all develope as individuals through our experiences and exposure. I was a poor shadow of what I can be back then. Flailing to survive. Even now, I am barely half of where I can be, if I let myself. But that is another story for another day.
I scoffed. "I guess I was more interested in being 'smart' smart back then. Read more, remembered more. When I came to college I guess I had other things on my mind," I chuckled. "And that "creative spark" died when I began feeling like I was trapped in a glass jar and running out of air. Even now I am not entirely sure what really killed it. I just stopped being inspired."
"You lost your sense of wonder," Missy helped. "Back then even though you were from the inside looking out, at all the things you wanted to touch, taste and feel, you retained your sense of wonder at it all. Funny, I thought it should actually increase with you being 'out of the jar' now."
"In a way your spirit burned brighter then," Mademoiselle shrugged reluctantly. "Or maybe, without having a lampshade on it."
"Look guys, I like what I am now. It's not perfect and there're days when I feel that I wanna be somebody else as per the Pink song, but for all that I seemingly lost, let die or wither, I can't bear ever being the way I was back then. The thought literally gives me pain! I don't WANT to be the old me."
I sighed.
"I know I lost some stuff and maybe that flame, it did burn a bit brighter back then. I realize that whatever changed, it was not entirely for the better. Some were admittedly, not... improvements per se. But with every passing day, I am successively finding out just how stupid I was yesterday. So... that's at least good."
"Or just that your opinion changed". Missy added helpfully (not so helpfully). "Well I guess it can't all be good. No such perfect thing."
Mademoiselle was silent. Now THAT is unusual. We both looked at her.
She just lit a stick and exhaled leisurely, drawing it out as long as possible, before finally looking down at the both of us and saying, "You're right." "I think when you take it all together, everything included, you still come out on top. At the end of the day it's more good than bad."
"You didn't need us to come to that conclusion did you?" Mademoiselle narrowed her eyes.
I smiled. No. But having them helped.
Monday, 16 August 2010
Back In Town.
(Chorus)
I've been all over the world,
Seen all the beautiful wonderful things,
But now I'm back in town baby,
Back in town, back in town.
They said Jeremiah was a bullfrog,
That his wine was mighty fine.
I would've liked to try that fine wine,
And go a-drinkin' away the time.
The king he had some mighty fine things,
Kitty cats a-dancing and porkers with wings.
Ran I did through that treasure hold,
Making sweet love to mountains of gold.
(Chorus)
I've been all over the world,
Seen all the beautiful wonderful things,
But now I'm back in town baby,
Back in town, back in town.
If I had the run of the world,
I'll tell you what I'd do.
I'd swing by every joint in town,
And shake it till the moon goes down.
(Chorus)
I've been all over the world,
Seen all the beautiful wonderful things,
But now I'm back in town baby,
Back in town, back in town.
I've been all over the world,
Seen all the beautiful wonderful things,
But now I'm back in town baby,
Back in town, back in town.
They said Jeremiah was a bullfrog,
That his wine was mighty fine.
I would've liked to try that fine wine,
And go a-drinkin' away the time.
The king he had some mighty fine things,
Kitty cats a-dancing and porkers with wings.
Ran I did through that treasure hold,
Making sweet love to mountains of gold.
(Chorus)
I've been all over the world,
Seen all the beautiful wonderful things,
But now I'm back in town baby,
Back in town, back in town.
If I had the run of the world,
I'll tell you what I'd do.
I'd swing by every joint in town,
And shake it till the moon goes down.
(Chorus)
I've been all over the world,
Seen all the beautiful wonderful things,
But now I'm back in town baby,
Back in town, back in town.
Not Yet.
There was so much left unsaid,
I never got to tell you.
I never got to hold you,
Before you went away.
Tell me again why I waited,
I never took my chances.
I never paid the dues,
Before you went away.
(Chorus)
You walked away,
Before I could say,
We're not done yet,
And until then my love will stay.
(Bridge)
Turn to me again,
Even if this is the end.
I need to close the book,
I need that one last look.
(Chorus)
You walked away,
Before I could say,
Don't leave me yet,
I need to say,
We're not done yet,
And until then my love will stay.
I never got to tell you.
I never got to hold you,
Before you went away.
Tell me again why I waited,
I never took my chances.
I never paid the dues,
Before you went away.
(Chorus)
You walked away,
Before I could say,
We're not done yet,
And until then my love will stay.
(Bridge)
Turn to me again,
Even if this is the end.
I need to close the book,
I need that one last look.
(Chorus)
You walked away,
Before I could say,
Don't leave me yet,
I need to say,
We're not done yet,
And until then my love will stay.
I'm Through Burning For You.
Lonely nights and lonely days,
Passed me by in your arms.
I could never make you stay,
It was always in your charms.
I was yours but you my love,
You were never truly mine.
And though I prayed to God above,
I cried to sleep every single time.
(Chorus)
I'm through burning for you.
You were never where I needed you.
I'm done breaking my heart,
Packing my bags I'm tearing us apart.
I wish I shook off that hold,
You always had on me.
You got me the very first time,
Like taking candy from a baby.
And I spent my time pining,
For that side I hoped to see.
But I can't wait my whole life,
Baby you never cared for me.
(Chorus)
I'm through burning for you.
You were never where I needed you.
I'm done breaking my heart,
Packing my bags I'm tearing us apart.
Passed me by in your arms.
I could never make you stay,
It was always in your charms.
I was yours but you my love,
You were never truly mine.
And though I prayed to God above,
I cried to sleep every single time.
(Chorus)
I'm through burning for you.
You were never where I needed you.
I'm done breaking my heart,
Packing my bags I'm tearing us apart.
I wish I shook off that hold,
You always had on me.
You got me the very first time,
Like taking candy from a baby.
And I spent my time pining,
For that side I hoped to see.
But I can't wait my whole life,
Baby you never cared for me.
(Chorus)
I'm through burning for you.
You were never where I needed you.
I'm done breaking my heart,
Packing my bags I'm tearing us apart.
We'll Rock The House.
There were times,
We thought we'd never make it.
Things were hard,
And we just couldn't fake it.
You know how you try and try,
And never get it.
You know how you throw it all,
But never stick it.
We know the feeling,
We hit the ceiling,
But we bounced back up,
So here's to never giving up.
(Chorus)
We'll rock the house,
There's nothing that can stand in our way,
Because when we shake it up,
We live it up, turn it up, burn it up,
We're the best we'll beat the rest.
The going gets tough,
And it gets hard to stick together.
But we busted through,
Stayed here for one another.
(Chorus)
We'll rock the house,
There's nothing that can stand in our way,
Because when we shake it up,
We live it up, turn it up, burn it up,
We're the best we'll beat the rest.
We thought we'd never make it.
Things were hard,
And we just couldn't fake it.
You know how you try and try,
And never get it.
You know how you throw it all,
But never stick it.
We know the feeling,
We hit the ceiling,
But we bounced back up,
So here's to never giving up.
(Chorus)
We'll rock the house,
There's nothing that can stand in our way,
Because when we shake it up,
We live it up, turn it up, burn it up,
We're the best we'll beat the rest.
The going gets tough,
And it gets hard to stick together.
But we busted through,
Stayed here for one another.
(Chorus)
We'll rock the house,
There's nothing that can stand in our way,
Because when we shake it up,
We live it up, turn it up, burn it up,
We're the best we'll beat the rest.
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