Showing posts with label thoughts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thoughts. Show all posts
Friday, 14 October 2016
here we go again
It’s been a while since I’ve had a moan on here, so now is as good a time as any to start up again. The last few weeks have found me at my lowest ebb. Not getting out of bed, not wanting to talk or eat. And withdrawing, feeling like I might never come back.. plus I’m out of work again. But I’m feeling just a little better now and I am taking some medicine for my anxiety. I’m able to take walks again and can watch films and read. When I’m in a bad way I can’t get out of my head for a minute so reading is near impossible. At this point I really don’t know what the future holds and for once that doesn’t scare the shit outta me. I just want to feel relatively secure for a change. I’m sick of being up and down. Not knowing when I’m next going to lose my shit and have a bad turn.Anyway that’s enough for now. I’m currently reading the Bruce Springsteen bio’ and have been listening to lots of Leonard Cohen, Nick Cave and Radiohead.
Tuesday, 23 August 2016
Struggle of an old man sat on a bench
We don't just die
It takes longer
there's no sweet release
depending on how long it takes to be found
dead
dead found on the toilet
discovered under the sheets
under a bridge
down alley ways or behind bins
whatever
we're buried by our loved ones
burnt to nothing
turned to dust
some left to fester
rot and return to mush and dirt
walking away
there part done
no blood on their hands
We don't just die
once former loves
those that loathed us
forget.
Then we sale our ship
looking out to sea
It takes longer
there's no sweet release
depending on how long it takes to be found
dead
dead found on the toilet
discovered under the sheets
under a bridge
down alley ways or behind bins
whatever
we're buried by our loved ones
burnt to nothing
turned to dust
some left to fester
rot and return to mush and dirt
walking away
there part done
no blood on their hands
We don't just die
once former loves
those that loathed us
forget.
Then we sale our ship
looking out to sea
Monday, 22 August 2016
Our mind keeps dreams in tiny glass bottles with holes in.
It's a crazy feeling that I can recall certain moments from my life, with such clarity that they could have just happened. But they didn't, they're from a different time. And the glue that holds them together seems to give and flake away the more time that passes. So now the memories aren't as whole as what they once were, whats left is the question of what actually happened. What has my subconsciousness filled in? One night I walked down empty streets. Across fields wet with morning dew. Tiny yellow eyes poking out of bushes and trees. My path lit by the stars and moon. With just the music from my earphones. I can't remember if it was a winter or spring. And for what reason did I take that night for myself, to leave a memory that holds up as a wondrous moment of my adolescence. The stars shone brighter than you could imagine. Like tiny flecks of light from a sea now gone. The moon looming, a unmovable plate. Fields stretched on beyond the realms of possibility. I was lifted to the sky too tired to walk any more. Dancing on clouds and kissed the moon goodnight. Waving down to all beneath me. Only I walked the earth that night. But for all I know I could have been at home, tucked up in bed and that's where my dreams took me. I choose to remember that I did take that journey, that I was alone with my thoughts and the song still rings that I tearfully sung. In this perfect moment, a part of me will remain. Lost in time.
Sunday, 21 August 2016
night time brings out the loneliness in people
night time, restless, depressed or can’t sleep.
https://open.spotify.com/user/benstewartr
Monday, 15 August 2016
Rant#1
I have spent years of my life, bottling my feelings away, one by one. Every doubt, regret and fear in the world. Till I exploded. Anxiety crippled me. I couldn't leave the house without having a raging fit. I cried and cried before leaving for work. I dragged myself off each day to a job that was pointless, I couldn't eat. I just slept and slept. It was the day David Bowie died. I found out in the morning and felt my heart pulled out from my chest. I couldn't speak, I carried on pushing things deeper inside till I felt sick and could hardly stand. I ran down stairs and fell into a pool of tears. I was sent home. My old work friends never looked at me in the same way after that, they teased me and I left a week later. Humiliated.
What I remember from that day is a tearful phone call with my mum on the beach. She is the only one that understands. She listens and gives so much. Her calming reassurances reminded me of when I started secondary school, we'd moved across the country on our own, it was difficult transition. I would leave school early. Walk over to her work in tears, she'd run out and hug we and wipe the tears away. Eight years later I feel no different, just as alone and useless. On that beach it was so cold, people were walking by with there dogs, smiles pasted on there faces pretending all was well. Since then I have locked myself away, within my fortress of books and cds. Only art holds the answers.
What I remember from that day is a tearful phone call with my mum on the beach. She is the only one that understands. She listens and gives so much. Her calming reassurances reminded me of when I started secondary school, we'd moved across the country on our own, it was difficult transition. I would leave school early. Walk over to her work in tears, she'd run out and hug we and wipe the tears away. Eight years later I feel no different, just as alone and useless. On that beach it was so cold, people were walking by with there dogs, smiles pasted on there faces pretending all was well. Since then I have locked myself away, within my fortress of books and cds. Only art holds the answers.
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