Well i am getting an article printed in our uni mag this month and two in our news letter....so...here they are...he he he..However DO NOT nik stuff as it is copy righted...ta v much....
Related to others..
My mind is fire, whilst you just walk around me. I remember this, this feeling. Being twelve. Feeling older than I thought my parents were. But not knowing enough. Yet realising some of it, just a Childs mind.
Feeling like the thoughts you have are the only ones anyone has ever had. Like no-one could possibly feel this way.
Then you grow up. Fill your years and gain connections with people.
Connect on those thoughts inside.
Wanting to find someone who actually gets it. What's inside your head. Until you realise that everyone is so wrapped up in their own thoughts that you need to stop feeling this need and start living in the world around you.
Connections become moments of silence. It moves into sex or music. "Our song". Usually played with the sex. A feeling of depth in someone else's eyes. When you actually both feel the same thing. Or you think you do. It's all speculation and suggestion. Ideas and hopes. Morals of yourself projected onto others.
When you have that first fall out with "the" friend. The one that always "got" you. Was there. Understood. You are devastated. Inconsolable in the grief. Then. Only then you realise we are all so very different but moving on the same plains. Bumping into each other. And you feel better. No on some level, they do get me, but they are also themselves. Their own thoughts that happen. Inside their mind is fire and you just walk around them.
The Deposition. Written for a mediation at Derby Cathedral on a painting by Graham Sutherland, called The Deposition.
How does one remember what one never knew?
Lives played into brokenness.
This demanded death.
So far along a journey that life is stuttering out.
This sacrifice that is consumed by fire.
A flame caught in the inevitable wind.
This precarious balance between light and dark.
The coolness of grey warmed by the tones of dawn.
Featureless so the elements become personal.
Our saviour.
A victim.
A martyr.
Willingly sharing a moment.
So here is this depiction of salvation.
A vessel filled with morality.
Awaiting redemption.
A new genesis.
Touched by light.
The frailty of death.
The dignity of death.
Held.
Reflections of a chalice echoed in the concave arc.
Supported by unseen hands.
The tenderness and comfort.
Creation of empathy for we are only human.
We must play our part in the act of witnessing.
This memory that must never die.
For to forget would give victory to those that consumed.
This affirmation exposed in washes of colour.
Given form.
And life.
Anxiety.
I was thinking today as I woke up somewhere else, slightly dis-orientated. About how there was once a time I would not have the ability to do this. I used to suffer from disabling GAD ( General Anxiety Disorder.). I mean there were reasons initially, but then you end up living your days in a haze of vague anxiety that builds to random full blown panic attacks. No reason. Just because it's a Monday or you know, a day of the week with a Y in it.
I mean I would not say I don't suffer now; it's kind of like being an alcoholic. You're never, not an alcoholic, but you control it to the point that you don't have to think about it anymore.
Has anyone else suffered an anxiety attack? It's the weirdest, scariest thing ever. I mean you feel like your going to die. There and then. Actually stop breathing and your heart stop. (Except really it's just going so fucking fast.)
Being quite the social person would it surprise you if I told you I once did not go shopping by myself or even leave the house much for over two years. Completely agro-phobic. Because of the fucking anxiety. Can you imagine this of a social girl? I went to the shops for the first time by myself after those two years and cried in the car park. Because I managed to buy soup and a magazine. Sounds pathetic huh?
I would not wish GAD or anything similar on anyone. You stop living your life. You just exist. Absolutely no use to anyone or your self as you don't trust your own judgments. Or your own body as that's just doing something weird, what with the too much adrenalin and the heart palpitations and the obvious not being able to breath.
So how do you get round this? Start living your life again? I wish I could answer that. Maybe it's reaching the point that you stop being so scared of the impending feeling of doom as you actually think death might give you a break, a fucking rest.
Or you meet other people with the same problems and you think hang on, these are amazing, strong people. Who are trying to cope and winning a small piece back everyday. Maybe I can too.
I look back on that part of my life and find it mad that I once only ate beans and waffles for two weeks as anything else gave me a panic attack. How the only time I actually relaxed was when drunk. How I used to wake up in the middle of the night honestly thinking I was having a heart attack.
Now I am not mad. (Well much anyway.) Life affects us all in its own little ways. It leaves its imprints and marks.
But life IS amazing. In fact I am glad I went through that. I know myself a lot better now. I know how far I can push myself. What my limits are. You realise the human body is really quite talented and can be pushed to greater limits than you probably ever thought. People do it everyday.
So.... where to end this...
Oh yeah... Love your life. It is really too short and we have such little time to be happy. Don't let the past lay a template for how you live your life. Try not to hold things if they have been and gone. What's the point? Don't get me wrong. Certain past events might leave behind their scars but try to remember you are yourself today. Not anything that has been. Your decisions are your own and if they are not then there is something very wrong.
I love my life. I am grateful to be where I am today but I am not going stick around feeling thankful. Instead actually going and living it is the best I can do.
If you want any information about Panic attacks and Anxiety go to http://www.nomorepanic.co.uk/
OOOOhhhh it's my birthday mon so sat night off out to get wrecked after shooting my SG set!! AT LAST.... fingers crossed ....oh and I got a horsey to ride again...sooooo happy.... he is lovely...trying to get fit n unflabby.... xxxxx
Loves xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Oh go check out http://www.myspace.com/flatlineruk my lovely blokes band...
and http://www.myspace.com/sulpherstreetteam who my friend Timmeh plays live bass with...the pic is of them.... the crazy pirate??? Well my man...blame B3ta and talk like a pirate day ok???
Related to others..
My mind is fire, whilst you just walk around me. I remember this, this feeling. Being twelve. Feeling older than I thought my parents were. But not knowing enough. Yet realising some of it, just a Childs mind.
Feeling like the thoughts you have are the only ones anyone has ever had. Like no-one could possibly feel this way.
Then you grow up. Fill your years and gain connections with people.
Connect on those thoughts inside.
Wanting to find someone who actually gets it. What's inside your head. Until you realise that everyone is so wrapped up in their own thoughts that you need to stop feeling this need and start living in the world around you.
Connections become moments of silence. It moves into sex or music. "Our song". Usually played with the sex. A feeling of depth in someone else's eyes. When you actually both feel the same thing. Or you think you do. It's all speculation and suggestion. Ideas and hopes. Morals of yourself projected onto others.
When you have that first fall out with "the" friend. The one that always "got" you. Was there. Understood. You are devastated. Inconsolable in the grief. Then. Only then you realise we are all so very different but moving on the same plains. Bumping into each other. And you feel better. No on some level, they do get me, but they are also themselves. Their own thoughts that happen. Inside their mind is fire and you just walk around them.
The Deposition. Written for a mediation at Derby Cathedral on a painting by Graham Sutherland, called The Deposition.
How does one remember what one never knew?
Lives played into brokenness.
This demanded death.
So far along a journey that life is stuttering out.
This sacrifice that is consumed by fire.
A flame caught in the inevitable wind.
This precarious balance between light and dark.
The coolness of grey warmed by the tones of dawn.
Featureless so the elements become personal.
Our saviour.
A victim.
A martyr.
Willingly sharing a moment.
So here is this depiction of salvation.
A vessel filled with morality.
Awaiting redemption.
A new genesis.
Touched by light.
The frailty of death.
The dignity of death.
Held.
Reflections of a chalice echoed in the concave arc.
Supported by unseen hands.
The tenderness and comfort.
Creation of empathy for we are only human.
We must play our part in the act of witnessing.
This memory that must never die.
For to forget would give victory to those that consumed.
This affirmation exposed in washes of colour.
Given form.
And life.
Anxiety.
I was thinking today as I woke up somewhere else, slightly dis-orientated. About how there was once a time I would not have the ability to do this. I used to suffer from disabling GAD ( General Anxiety Disorder.). I mean there were reasons initially, but then you end up living your days in a haze of vague anxiety that builds to random full blown panic attacks. No reason. Just because it's a Monday or you know, a day of the week with a Y in it.
I mean I would not say I don't suffer now; it's kind of like being an alcoholic. You're never, not an alcoholic, but you control it to the point that you don't have to think about it anymore.
Has anyone else suffered an anxiety attack? It's the weirdest, scariest thing ever. I mean you feel like your going to die. There and then. Actually stop breathing and your heart stop. (Except really it's just going so fucking fast.)
Being quite the social person would it surprise you if I told you I once did not go shopping by myself or even leave the house much for over two years. Completely agro-phobic. Because of the fucking anxiety. Can you imagine this of a social girl? I went to the shops for the first time by myself after those two years and cried in the car park. Because I managed to buy soup and a magazine. Sounds pathetic huh?
I would not wish GAD or anything similar on anyone. You stop living your life. You just exist. Absolutely no use to anyone or your self as you don't trust your own judgments. Or your own body as that's just doing something weird, what with the too much adrenalin and the heart palpitations and the obvious not being able to breath.
So how do you get round this? Start living your life again? I wish I could answer that. Maybe it's reaching the point that you stop being so scared of the impending feeling of doom as you actually think death might give you a break, a fucking rest.
Or you meet other people with the same problems and you think hang on, these are amazing, strong people. Who are trying to cope and winning a small piece back everyday. Maybe I can too.
I look back on that part of my life and find it mad that I once only ate beans and waffles for two weeks as anything else gave me a panic attack. How the only time I actually relaxed was when drunk. How I used to wake up in the middle of the night honestly thinking I was having a heart attack.
Now I am not mad. (Well much anyway.) Life affects us all in its own little ways. It leaves its imprints and marks.
But life IS amazing. In fact I am glad I went through that. I know myself a lot better now. I know how far I can push myself. What my limits are. You realise the human body is really quite talented and can be pushed to greater limits than you probably ever thought. People do it everyday.
So.... where to end this...
Oh yeah... Love your life. It is really too short and we have such little time to be happy. Don't let the past lay a template for how you live your life. Try not to hold things if they have been and gone. What's the point? Don't get me wrong. Certain past events might leave behind their scars but try to remember you are yourself today. Not anything that has been. Your decisions are your own and if they are not then there is something very wrong.
I love my life. I am grateful to be where I am today but I am not going stick around feeling thankful. Instead actually going and living it is the best I can do.
If you want any information about Panic attacks and Anxiety go to http://www.nomorepanic.co.uk/
OOOOhhhh it's my birthday mon so sat night off out to get wrecked after shooting my SG set!! AT LAST.... fingers crossed ....oh and I got a horsey to ride again...sooooo happy.... he is lovely...trying to get fit n unflabby.... xxxxx
Loves xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Oh go check out http://www.myspace.com/flatlineruk my lovely blokes band...
and http://www.myspace.com/sulpherstreetteam who my friend Timmeh plays live bass with...the pic is of them.... the crazy pirate??? Well my man...blame B3ta and talk like a pirate day ok???
VIEW 6 of 6 COMMENTS
But yes, many happy returns. Yay for being 28. I find it an agreeable age. Arrr.