Sunday, 11 October 2009
Saturday, 10 October 2009
cats
you say you hate cats. why? because you are so much like them... in the way you treat your prey?
Friday, 9 October 2009
Stuff
I do not consider myself a negative person. I try to look at things with as positive an attitude as possible. I tend to rant every once in a while but depressing stuff is generally not my cup of tea. However, there comes a time when one simply has to get some things out of the system, and these things are usually not pleasant. I've been thinking about using this blog to vent my frustrations but can't quite decide whether to do it or not. And if so, whether to disable comments or not. I appreciate all the support and am grateful for it but... some things are better left as they are, and repeating the same things over again, even if nmeant sincerely, does become tedious. So, I suppose I'll decide as I go if I choose to do it this way.
I have a history of abuse and emotional neglect, and a father who is that only in the biological sense, otherwise he doesn't deserve to be called so. Still, I tried to keep some sort of relationship with him (although it has always been tense at best) for the rest of the family's sake. Until this spring, that is, when the ever present, albeit supressed, hostilities finally broke out. I do not regret having told him what he should have heard years ago (and which terminally sealed my fate as his worst adversary) but am sorry this has caused distress to other family members. And, of course, the whole affair has been more emotionally draining than I cared to admit or gave it credit for and when direct pressures were put on me to try and make up, I was hit by a crisis of gargantuan proportions and simply couldn't play tough anymore.
And that crisis directly affected the relationship which has meant so much to me: a friendship, not exactly conventional, but in a way so much more. The closest to what I felt... no, still feel for that person is love, pure and unconditional and undisturbed by any romantic or erotic expectations, and I have reason to believe his feelings were very similar, at least at some point. And I let it slip away. I allowed the internal struggle of my inner demons (which, I am certain, ended up misinterpreted) leak into the communication at the most inappropriate time which caused the other person to recoil and refuse to talk to me anymore. My attempt at approaching him only resulted in further alienation and, alas, I don't see a way back from here. And the regret and grief this is causing me, and the bitter feeling of things left unsaid (I do not feel guilty for what I was allegedly accused of and was given no chance to clarify things) is beyond words...
I have a history of abuse and emotional neglect, and a father who is that only in the biological sense, otherwise he doesn't deserve to be called so. Still, I tried to keep some sort of relationship with him (although it has always been tense at best) for the rest of the family's sake. Until this spring, that is, when the ever present, albeit supressed, hostilities finally broke out. I do not regret having told him what he should have heard years ago (and which terminally sealed my fate as his worst adversary) but am sorry this has caused distress to other family members. And, of course, the whole affair has been more emotionally draining than I cared to admit or gave it credit for and when direct pressures were put on me to try and make up, I was hit by a crisis of gargantuan proportions and simply couldn't play tough anymore.
And that crisis directly affected the relationship which has meant so much to me: a friendship, not exactly conventional, but in a way so much more. The closest to what I felt... no, still feel for that person is love, pure and unconditional and undisturbed by any romantic or erotic expectations, and I have reason to believe his feelings were very similar, at least at some point. And I let it slip away. I allowed the internal struggle of my inner demons (which, I am certain, ended up misinterpreted) leak into the communication at the most inappropriate time which caused the other person to recoil and refuse to talk to me anymore. My attempt at approaching him only resulted in further alienation and, alas, I don't see a way back from here. And the regret and grief this is causing me, and the bitter feeling of things left unsaid (I do not feel guilty for what I was allegedly accused of and was given no chance to clarify things) is beyond words...
Thursday, 8 October 2009
Thorns
I removed a spine from my thumb today. The cactus didn't know I meant no harm when I moved it from its usual position to make space for the craftsmen coming to replace the windows in my flat. It was me being careless to allow one of its spines to pierce my skin, thus causing me pain and discomfort and irritation.
I wish removing the metaphorical splinter from my heart were that easy. Again, it was me being careless for allowing it to get there. But I'm afraid its removal would cause me to bleed to death unless done with maximum care and consideration, and even then the outcome would be uncertain.
I wish removing the metaphorical splinter from my heart were that easy. Again, it was me being careless for allowing it to get there. But I'm afraid its removal would cause me to bleed to death unless done with maximum care and consideration, and even then the outcome would be uncertain.
Wednesday, 7 October 2009
Thursday, 27 August 2009
TWT 25 (or something)
Fiction with real life background
He was an abusive bastard. Not in the brutish physical way, oh no, his methods were far more sophisticated albeit no less devastating. He treated the women in his life no better than slaves, restricting their rights at his will. Nobody was allowed to object him, to express their own opinion. Nobody was allowed their own taste in music, or in fact, anything. Praise never ever came from his mouth whereas critique and scolding was on his lips all the time. His wife tolerated his behaviour, defended it even, probably too blinded by what she thought was love. Besides, she carried her own traumas and frustrations acquired in her early life which must have prevented her from taking appropriate action before it became too late. His first, quondam wife had more sense. She divorced him before he could cause too much damage to her and the two children he had had with her.
Outwardly, his second family was a perfectly normal one. Both parents had good jobs, they owned a nice flat, the children were reasonably well clad and never hungry. They went on trips and once a year on a holiday to the seaside. But under the operiment…
Their first child was a girl, far too sensitive and far too intelligent for the kind of treatment she was subjected to. Constant scolding and complete lack of warmth and acceptance wreaked havoc with her psyche. Wounded too many times by withdrawal of love, she built a fortress around her tender soul. She learned not to trust anybody for any time she reached out she got hurt. So she tried to cope with her problems all alone with her inadequate resources. And her problems grew into mountains of himalayan proportions. She was subject to classmates' bullying. She fell prey to a paedophyllic neighbour and learned more about sexual abuse than anybody should ever know before she even started to develop into a woman. She never fully recovered from the traumas of her early life and failed to develop into a responsible, fully functional adult. Her genious sparked on rare occasions but never got to bear any fruit. If she ever had any ambitions, they were duly pessundated by her past.
Their second child was 'an accident'. Rather a strange thing, given mother had been treated for sterility before conceiving her first. However, this girl was much more cunning than the first one although she lacked her subtle intelligence. She was much more outwardly orientated than either her mother or her sister which probably helped her get along with 'him' better and even succeeding in drawing some benefits from him. Still, she didn't escape trauma completely. She fell in love with and eventually married a guy who treated her like shit and abused her physically every so often. It took her years and many bruises to break free of his obssessive clasp. She is happily married for the second time, though, but can't have children of her own.
He was an abusive bastard. Not in the brutish physical way, oh no, his methods were far more sophisticated albeit no less devastating. He treated the women in his life no better than slaves, restricting their rights at his will. Nobody was allowed to object him, to express their own opinion. Nobody was allowed their own taste in music, or in fact, anything. Praise never ever came from his mouth whereas critique and scolding was on his lips all the time. His wife tolerated his behaviour, defended it even, probably too blinded by what she thought was love. Besides, she carried her own traumas and frustrations acquired in her early life which must have prevented her from taking appropriate action before it became too late. His first, quondam wife had more sense. She divorced him before he could cause too much damage to her and the two children he had had with her.
Outwardly, his second family was a perfectly normal one. Both parents had good jobs, they owned a nice flat, the children were reasonably well clad and never hungry. They went on trips and once a year on a holiday to the seaside. But under the operiment…
Their first child was a girl, far too sensitive and far too intelligent for the kind of treatment she was subjected to. Constant scolding and complete lack of warmth and acceptance wreaked havoc with her psyche. Wounded too many times by withdrawal of love, she built a fortress around her tender soul. She learned not to trust anybody for any time she reached out she got hurt. So she tried to cope with her problems all alone with her inadequate resources. And her problems grew into mountains of himalayan proportions. She was subject to classmates' bullying. She fell prey to a paedophyllic neighbour and learned more about sexual abuse than anybody should ever know before she even started to develop into a woman. She never fully recovered from the traumas of her early life and failed to develop into a responsible, fully functional adult. Her genious sparked on rare occasions but never got to bear any fruit. If she ever had any ambitions, they were duly pessundated by her past.
Their second child was 'an accident'. Rather a strange thing, given mother had been treated for sterility before conceiving her first. However, this girl was much more cunning than the first one although she lacked her subtle intelligence. She was much more outwardly orientated than either her mother or her sister which probably helped her get along with 'him' better and even succeeding in drawing some benefits from him. Still, she didn't escape trauma completely. She fell in love with and eventually married a guy who treated her like shit and abused her physically every so often. It took her years and many bruises to break free of his obssessive clasp. She is happily married for the second time, though, but can't have children of her own.
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