Sunday, 28 February 2010
Will I get up, or dream on in my blissful sleep, filled with laughter and sunshine, as the birds fly overhead and the waves lap at the shore?
Will I text him, I dont need to, I dont want to, but should I? I feel I have to.
Will i get dresses, or will I prance around in my underwear with the curtains shut, away from the miserable world outside?
Will I eat that? Its not good for me, but it tastes soo good, it cheers me up
Will I tell her the truth, I shouldn't, well, maybe I should.
Do i like him? or do I like the concept of him, the concept of feeling loved, having someone to kiss whenever I want? The thought that he likes me, but does he like me more than I like him? Is it just convenient? Is it that fact that everone else thinks its a good idea, and I just don't know what i think? Am I being shallow? Am I being vain, fussy, selfish?
Am I looking into it all too much?
Indecision to say something...
Indecision even in what to think....
Sunday, 21 February 2010
There is nothing fresher and purer than a morning. When you walk an empty street at the crack of dawn, when the whole world is a hopeful shade of grey, you can feel the freshness in the air, the dampness on your lips, the cold air on you eyelids. It feels as though the world has been rid of its sins and it is starting new all over again. There is something about the light that makes you feel happy, even on the greyest of days, even as the rain falls. The silence is so soothing, the raindrops seem so harmless and innocent, their drops are the only sound that fills your ears, each one feels different, you notice and appreciate each drop as it splashes on your face. The air smells so clean, the world is so refreshed, it refreshes you, it makes you feel so calm inside that for once all you can do is take it all in. You can feel at one with the world, you can appreciate it and feel in awe of it, yet feel part of it. There is noting fresher and purer than a morning in the countryside.
The city never sleeps. The morning in the city is not a morning, it is a continuation of the night before, and the day before that, and the week before that. The world does not feel new, it feels tired, mundane, life is a chore. As you walk the streets, you do not feel alone, you are not alone. There will always be someone who has been awake before you, walked the street before you. All you can feel is the crushed sense of nature, hear the engine of a car in the distance and the rush of the sewers below you. It feels like the world has not gone to sleep, it just hasn't stopped. And the rain, the rain feels like tears, tears of sadness and loneliness. There is nothing more lonely that the city, where you are just another number, another face. There is nothing more depressing than being surrounded by people but feeling completely alone. The city never sleeps, yet it is never really awake either. The city does not live.
Saturday, 20 February 2010
but not for long
I feel like I can't cope with my own company
I want him beside me
my cold hands on his back
his rough hands on my waist
his lips on mine
our bodies intertwined.
My heart rate quickens
my toes tingle
my legs tense up.
I want to feel his breath on my neck as I lie here in my bed
but he is not here,
I don't feel lonely, I know he will be back
I feel excited, happy...content.
Thursday, 18 February 2010
like the words in my head cannot be said,
like I am a caged animal.
I feel like I cant express myself,
The city represses my creativity,
the people depress me...
they fill me with rage.
I want to say something...
but I cant say it
Its like hoping for a storm,
but enjoying the tranquility of the sea,
the peace and the beauty of it.
The way it soothes you.
Maybe the storm will come soon
For now I will enjoy the peace.
Wednesday, 17 February 2010
the joy of the score,
the desperation to win,
the self awareness and quick thinking.
I miss the moment to shine
the pride felt for others.
The team is different now
It is a unit
we are one, we move together,
an individual's mistake is a team's downfall
Together we win ,
Together we shine .
Tuesday, 16 February 2010
The dirty plates and glasses,
The sheets of chemical formulae
and the packet of paracetamol.
The thick black pen, that scores out the weeks,
The broken iPod earphones,
and a half empty bottle from the gym.
The £1 note pinned to the wall
and the curling photos of summer time...
Its dark outside,
Someone is watching T.V next door
None of this is helping.