I've started my first professional driving lessons and the look on my instructor's face is a cause for concern- I have not crashed into anything (or anyone), so I'll label him as dramatic and we'll be on our way then.
I am rather pleased by the reaction of the drivers that end up behind me on the road- none of them have shown me impatience, which is lovely when you're a nervous driver trying to get the hang of "clutch control". Clutch control this, clutch control that...
I've come to notice that I might be too old for this dating thing and that my chances have reached their expiration date. I suppose I attach too much expectations to these things?
Furthermore, I miss dining with my divas. I have become a proud queer dear over these last few months and have to constantly add that no, "I'm not a lesbian". I thank people like Lady Gaga daily in my mind.
I have discovered my love for wine, Alanis and painting so I call myself an artist these days. Much to the disappointment of my father I might add, who made it clear that he doesn't understand my "abstract" art or appreciate the smell of paint around the house.
As for the final year at school... Don't be fooled by those who say it's easy. And don't leave projects to the last minute. That's the best advice I can give.
My big brother has moved into his own place and I am ecstatic for him. He already has a bar, so I consider him well trained for the grown up world.
Off to go live
Survive
And watch British comedy...
Love to you all
Fill those tea cups and invite me for tea if you wish
<3
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
it's a war out here
It's a war. And the one person who could take my side, takes the other... Because it's safer, easier. Because standing up for me risks you standing up for yourself and that is something that you have forgotten how to do.
It's a war out there. Everyday people are disowned, forgotten, murdered, left behind, attacked- for something they believe in, something they feel strongly about. Something they have vocalised or expressed and the bullets are fired. And where are the people standing up for them?
I don't like being here. This war is everyday. This war breaks me down and I am chewing iron nails and grabbing at that tight feeling in my chest. It's mostly a war of words- a power struggle. But standing up has become difficult. My voice is at risk of being taken and that's all I have had to survive this war. That, and sleep. The sleep that never comes.
To that person that refuses to stand up for me, with me, the person that watches the war and takes the safe side. To that person who thinks it's honourable to join in- raise the gun and fire, to you I want to say- I hope you find your voice. I hope that when you finally mouth the words that tighten your chest- that you will be a free man.
It's about doing what you think is right, standing up for what you believe, for those you believe in.
They can take my freedom. My honour. My voice. My speech. But they can never take my words from me.
I hope the war ends for you. I hope someone stands up for you and fights for you, I hope someone fights for your cause.
To you- the person on the battlefield- I hope that whatever is in your heart, that what are you doing doesn't result in you standing a winner, but alone. I hope you realise what are you doing before it's too late and know- even if they didn't stand up for you, that you know how I feel, because you have been there too and that you stop- because you have the power too.
You can fire your very last bullet and kill. Or you can bury your gun and stand free. You have words... I wish you would choose to use them wisely.
The tea cup is half empty today
xo
Crys
It's a war out there. Everyday people are disowned, forgotten, murdered, left behind, attacked- for something they believe in, something they feel strongly about. Something they have vocalised or expressed and the bullets are fired. And where are the people standing up for them?
I don't like being here. This war is everyday. This war breaks me down and I am chewing iron nails and grabbing at that tight feeling in my chest. It's mostly a war of words- a power struggle. But standing up has become difficult. My voice is at risk of being taken and that's all I have had to survive this war. That, and sleep. The sleep that never comes.
To that person that refuses to stand up for me, with me, the person that watches the war and takes the safe side. To that person who thinks it's honourable to join in- raise the gun and fire, to you I want to say- I hope you find your voice. I hope that when you finally mouth the words that tighten your chest- that you will be a free man.
It's about doing what you think is right, standing up for what you believe, for those you believe in.
They can take my freedom. My honour. My voice. My speech. But they can never take my words from me.
I hope the war ends for you. I hope someone stands up for you and fights for you, I hope someone fights for your cause.
To you- the person on the battlefield- I hope that whatever is in your heart, that what are you doing doesn't result in you standing a winner, but alone. I hope you realise what are you doing before it's too late and know- even if they didn't stand up for you, that you know how I feel, because you have been there too and that you stop- because you have the power too.
You can fire your very last bullet and kill. Or you can bury your gun and stand free. You have words... I wish you would choose to use them wisely.
The tea cup is half empty today
xo
Crys
Friday, September 3, 2010
regret and being a kid
It's 3AM and I feel I need some sleep, but my mind is spinning to its own music...
Been a crazy week- wonder how much one is expected to cram, organise and get done before you show that human quality that people love to hate: burnout. Freak out. Running at a millions miles an hour while moving in slow motion. And the ice cream starts to slip off the cone... ;)
Life seems to have its little rarities: the compliment on your new outfit... Someone lending a hand when the books are falling out of your arms, free parking... Oh- and jumping castles. I will always have an inner child I suppose- and if they try and tell me being a fan of cartoons and bubbles and bubblegum ice cream and jumping castles is wrong, I will be forced to eat more bubblegum ice cream. With a fork.
Spring's here and the weather is lovely. Green leaves, pretty colours and losing THAT look that makes me look far more insulated than I like to believe I am ;)
Spring, along with its hay fever and change-of-the-season colds, reminds me of change at its best- longer days, bright colours, pretty dresses and a chance to curl your toes in hot beach sand.
Find the little joys of life this week- even if its free parking or R2 off your toothpaste. Value the little things, old and faded (vintage in some sense if you wish), the pretty and the pretty weird.
Eat too many doughnuts and live a little more each day and don't wish time away.
Hug the sad stranger and don't let society's cruel and unkind judgement keep you from making a difference.
A life changing experience has made me far more conscious about life. Although it is somewhat annoying, I want to hang onto the idea of taking nothing for granted, before it slips and I am oblivious to that which is really mine.
Do I regret anything? Yes. Would I do this all over if I had the chance? I doubt it. I wouldn't be me and rationalise or think or doubt the way I do if it wasn't for that which has shaped my personality and defined me as the person I am today.
I like to think of myself as this; a wooden block being chiseled. My influences- good or bad- the sculptors. I wish some people would put the chisel down...
I want to live without regrets and know my words are not mean or hurtful. I will try to be the artist I need to be in society, not the one I am expected to be.
Say I love you, sorry and thank you as often as you wish. But please do mean them. Few enough words stay true to their meanings these days. <3
The teacup is half empty, half full
xo
Crys
Been a crazy week- wonder how much one is expected to cram, organise and get done before you show that human quality that people love to hate: burnout. Freak out. Running at a millions miles an hour while moving in slow motion. And the ice cream starts to slip off the cone... ;)
Life seems to have its little rarities: the compliment on your new outfit... Someone lending a hand when the books are falling out of your arms, free parking... Oh- and jumping castles. I will always have an inner child I suppose- and if they try and tell me being a fan of cartoons and bubbles and bubblegum ice cream and jumping castles is wrong, I will be forced to eat more bubblegum ice cream. With a fork.
Spring's here and the weather is lovely. Green leaves, pretty colours and losing THAT look that makes me look far more insulated than I like to believe I am ;)
Spring, along with its hay fever and change-of-the-season colds, reminds me of change at its best- longer days, bright colours, pretty dresses and a chance to curl your toes in hot beach sand.
Find the little joys of life this week- even if its free parking or R2 off your toothpaste. Value the little things, old and faded (vintage in some sense if you wish), the pretty and the pretty weird.
Eat too many doughnuts and live a little more each day and don't wish time away.
Hug the sad stranger and don't let society's cruel and unkind judgement keep you from making a difference.
A life changing experience has made me far more conscious about life. Although it is somewhat annoying, I want to hang onto the idea of taking nothing for granted, before it slips and I am oblivious to that which is really mine.
Do I regret anything? Yes. Would I do this all over if I had the chance? I doubt it. I wouldn't be me and rationalise or think or doubt the way I do if it wasn't for that which has shaped my personality and defined me as the person I am today.
I like to think of myself as this; a wooden block being chiseled. My influences- good or bad- the sculptors. I wish some people would put the chisel down...
I want to live without regrets and know my words are not mean or hurtful. I will try to be the artist I need to be in society, not the one I am expected to be.
Say I love you, sorry and thank you as often as you wish. But please do mean them. Few enough words stay true to their meanings these days. <3
The teacup is half empty, half full
xo
Crys
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Expectations
I'm a blogger? I like that word...
It sounds like a hobby. A hobby where I share my thoughts with myself (or the one or two people who will stumble across the page and read what I have to say). If I'm lucky.
so when you're done...
when you think about the people you love- your parents, brothers and sisters, best friends, new friends, old friends... you think about the good times with them. You love them, because they bring a sense of meaning to your life? They were part of the best day or the worst day of your life and everything inbetween. But being human, we hurt and we get hurt. Whether we mean to or not. We learn from these mistakes, or we don't. We love the idea of the people we once knew. The pain inflicted heals... eventually.
To you- the one that hurts me, whether you mean to or not, I want to say this: I love you. And not the "I love you" that serves as over-used words that fill the empty spaces or the silence or make the sin more forgiveable. You stumbled into my life with your teapot and your jokes and you made things better. So when you come back, I'll still be here. When you're done finding you, done painting, done.
When you're done... I'd love to hear the sound of you playing piano in the silence again.
With this comes expectations. Do I expect too much of you? Do you expect me to be just where I am? Expecting things is... normal- we expect to wake up, expect do go write that test or find the cup of coffee waiting as it has every morning for the last 5 years. Expect the soda to bubble, expect the chocolate to taste, well, like chocolate.
If we dont expect anything- will it hurt less? Will people stop expecting from us? Will we be happier? Sad? Why expect at all?
Expectations, expectations, expectations. Life's little shards of confusion.
When you're done... I don't expect you to be there.
When you're done... I expect myself to still love you.
The teacup is half empty, half full
xo
Crys
It sounds like a hobby. A hobby where I share my thoughts with myself (or the one or two people who will stumble across the page and read what I have to say). If I'm lucky.
so when you're done...
when you think about the people you love- your parents, brothers and sisters, best friends, new friends, old friends... you think about the good times with them. You love them, because they bring a sense of meaning to your life? They were part of the best day or the worst day of your life and everything inbetween. But being human, we hurt and we get hurt. Whether we mean to or not. We learn from these mistakes, or we don't. We love the idea of the people we once knew. The pain inflicted heals... eventually.
To you- the one that hurts me, whether you mean to or not, I want to say this: I love you. And not the "I love you" that serves as over-used words that fill the empty spaces or the silence or make the sin more forgiveable. You stumbled into my life with your teapot and your jokes and you made things better. So when you come back, I'll still be here. When you're done finding you, done painting, done.
When you're done... I'd love to hear the sound of you playing piano in the silence again.
With this comes expectations. Do I expect too much of you? Do you expect me to be just where I am? Expecting things is... normal- we expect to wake up, expect do go write that test or find the cup of coffee waiting as it has every morning for the last 5 years. Expect the soda to bubble, expect the chocolate to taste, well, like chocolate.
If we dont expect anything- will it hurt less? Will people stop expecting from us? Will we be happier? Sad? Why expect at all?
Expectations, expectations, expectations. Life's little shards of confusion.
When you're done... I don't expect you to be there.
When you're done... I expect myself to still love you.
The teacup is half empty, half full
xo
Crys
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