Blank Canvass

Sometimes a blank Canvass isn’t as empty as it seems.

Sometimes the blank speaks words that the artist is too afraid to say – like a silence on a page between two lovers who know that their end is near.

A silence between someone very sick and their very best friend.

A stare into each other’s blank canvasses.

I have stared into the dark night sky and wondered on the wonders that it could possibly beqeauth my poor, sundress soul.

I have walked with spirits in my dreams, the spirits that haunt my heart in the most warm and loving way – like an offering for a hug from a long lost friend on a weary road.

I have seen Dan in my past, and looked for him in my future, but all I have seen is piss-poor regret having not seen him when I wanted to.

I have not seen a future without negativity; but at least there’s her in it.

Sometimes when she’s sad, it makes me sad which disappoints me when I’ve had a really good day. She’s never happy when I am.

Its something I must live with, because I love her very much – I don’t feel like I have to prove my love for her, I feel that she knows, which she should.

I just wish she could be happy, and that it’s something I could incite within her, like a spark to a flame – be the bellows to her forge. But I

Can’t.

Is It Over?

Life.

Is happiness over? Do I really have to admit that, again, I am depressed?

Is this because of me doing bad at work, because I can never seem to make B happy, because I ignore her to play my games when realistically that is both what I want and the last thing I want, and both are for her and for me? Is it because I hate myself but not enough to do anything about it? Is it because I work for such a beautiful charity and despite that I can’t seem to do well enough to raise money for it?

Do I just miss Dan?

Every day. Every day I miss Dan. I miss everything him.

I feel alone, but I know I’m not, I know she’s there, I know she is, I love her, but I don’t feel like I’m there.

I wish I was happy.

I wish money was no object

I wish time was forever.

I wish I could live in the past and the present.

Sing

Sing, sing, darling, sing your heart out for me
Your voice is angelic

Sooth my sorrows, build my temple out of
fiberglass. Let me

love you forever, don’t send me away.
Recently, we have

been hurting each other, I have spent too
much time on my self

And not enough on you. I can’t express
why I have done what

I have done or how but I know that we
will figure it out

Somehow.

But for now, darling, sing, sing – sing for me
Without you, I don’t

know exactly who to be, what to do
Darling, I love you.

 

I haven’t written in a while

So, here I am.

It’s been months since we fell to our knees and allowed the waves to wash over our fragmented bodies. They lie wasted like marionettes buried in sand tombs filled in with paper mache for a sculptor to use in his latest project.

Dad. Where are you? Where were you? Why, why, why did you do the things you did? Sex is a disgusting, miserable waste of the human existence and it truly brings out the worst in us: there is no justifying rape. It is just something that can never be right.

I don’t know if there’s such thing as good and evil but I do know that there is perceived right and wrong. Rape is definitely a wrong. But what would be right? Would it be right to take from the rich to give to the poor? Would it be right if I killed someone who was about to kill me? Is that not just selfish? Nowadays people call that self defence. What a world we live in: where the fat are taxed on their sugar intake and where skin colour is separated into white and black like their bodies define their souls but it’s not the case.

It’s not.

Skin colour doesn’t define the human race.

But what does? What makes you, you? What is it that cries in the darkest of night that means that you get to live one more second but a boy in Syria has to rock his mother to sleep; she hears only the sounds of her husband screaming in pain as bombs fall around them. Her son wishes for a brighter future; one where charities don’t need to exist. Very importantly, he does not wish for a different future: he wants this to have happened. He knows that if it did not happen as it is happening, then we will not learn that it should never happen again.

There are 8 million children in and around Syria that have been displaced by a 7 year war that they have nothing to do with. Realistically, the war should have ended, and we should be mourning those that we have lost. Not those close to us, not our soldiers, all of them.

War is a terrible, beautiful, necessary wrong.

 

Mondays

Hello to those of you who read this.

I feel like a lot of people fish the tags purely for their own exposure and like posts (I don’t know what I expected, to be honest) but I’m not saying this in a depressive way, more an ‘I should probably have known’ way.

Today has been alright; I’ve been thinking about writing poetry a lot.

Did the presentation today at uni – thoughts:

  • Time management was strained and we had a little bit too much to say
  • I felt as though there were some key points I wanted to include but didn’t
  • It marks the end of not only Early Modern Comedy seminars but Poetry, too. I don’t know if I’m glad it’s over or not; I’ve got an exam on May 17th, but I’m not worried about it. I get the questions on Monday. Better get studying Don Paterson’s Rain.

The people at uni are going out for a drink tonight and I kind of wanted to join them, celebrate finishing the presentation; but at the same time, I didn’t. I feel excluded slightly from the rest of the people at university, and I don’t know why – I do know why it’s because I like to do well and put a huge amount of effort into my work and others don’t.

This morning as well I got a leaflet through the post for 20% off on Phone Screen repairs at Carphone Warehouse, which I was pretty happy about. I’m going to use that soon.

After my presentation, I went back home and sorted through all my old Magic cards – I have a lot more than I originally thought. I knew B wouldn’t be home until about half 1 so I had time. When she got home she was upset and I feel like it’s my fault because I didn’t do my chores, but I also know she’s going through a lot lately and maybe I shouldn’t take it to heart.

B

She’s been very upset today, and now I know why – because of Jess, her sister. I’m not preserving her anonymity because, frankly, she’s a cunt. I use that word meaning every single letter of it. She went out of her way to make B upset; she created and PAID for a Blipfoto account purely to leave nasty messages to B. On Blipfoto, there is no way to block or report people, so there’s not a right lot we can do about it. I want to call them and see what options we have, but I’ll find out more soon. Might email them.

We just ordered food, there was a 20% off deal when you spend £20 so you know what I did… I ordered an unnecessary amount of food.

B likes to keep up with my posts, and I appreciate her for it. But today we had an argument about what I mean to her, which has been resolved now, but it still really upset me.

She doesn’t think I want to have a kid eventually and doesn’t know if I love her, but I do.


Fields

of love, of lust,
cherry blossom
dreams haunt them but
Not in our fields.

RB.

Representation

I write this post to you, slightly intoxicated on cheap beer.

I’ve been thinking on my way back from the library today about being rich; I saw a meme (I know, right) and it really got me thinking about potentially writing a poem about the fact that there are people that wake up rich, people that are born rich and then there’s the opposite; the people that live their whole lives wishing to be something more. The people that work their whole lives waiting to wake up in a Beverley Hills house to get up and do nothing at all, except be rich.

It’s such a weird idea because when you actually think and ponder it, it’s not that great at all: imagine waking up one morning and you were grand-stinking rich, the kind of rich that affords you your deepest material desires – how did you get there? Did you work for it? Is it through your parents? Are you just ‘rich’ or are you a ‘celebrity’? Which ideal is it that people want – to be rich or to be a celebrity? Either way, you will have things to do and a day to get on with irrespective of what you are and potentially just as much unhappiness.

My Day Today:

I woke up, and I went to a Magic: the Gathering prerelease for a new set, it was really, really fun! I haven’t played MTG in years and it was refreshing to get back into it. I got a foil Teferi (the good one)! Which essentially paid for my prerelease, but I don’t really care about the money or anything. It was something B said when I got home from it that made me really think about it: she said something like ‘I hate those people that put a monetary value on stuff like that, can’t you put like a sentimental value on it or something? My sister said it about my Pop! vinyls and I didn’t care about devaluing them if I opened them, I wanted them for me.’ and I thought about it for a second, and I realised that she was entirely right, this Teferi, this piece of card represented something in me that I haven’t experienced in a long time; I went out and had fun (during the day) with likeminded people! It was exhilarating (beware for some MTG jargon now) playing Teferi and ultimating him; any time I drew a card I was exiling my opponent’s permanents left, right and centre!

At the end of the tournament, I went 2-2 (2 wins, 2 losses) which I’m actually really happy with! I’m happy I just got to play MTG again and I want to play more now! Part of me is worried about B though and I know I shouldn’t be and I know she wouldn’t want me to be, but I’m worried about how it could affect our relationship if I get back into it. I don’t know. Maybe I’m worrying over nothing.

After that, I went home to find my new fan delivered (YES). It’s alright, I suppose… I was about to type how amazing it is but I guess at the end of the day it turns warm air into cold air which isn’t particularly fascinating, but I really like it and I think it’s rather useful, to be honest.

Finally, at about 18:20-now I went to the university library to work on the presentation we have due for tomorrow and we actually, finally finished it! I know I haven’t posted about it really but it’s been a labour of love and I’m really proud of myself and them for how it’s been coordinated. Everyone’s listened and proactively done their part and it’s been altogether really good. Had a drink there too which was nice.

Now:

B

B is upset at the moment and I don’t know what to do: I offered her a takeaway but she hung up on me which, actually, is unacceptable. I hate it when people just hang up on me and all I did was ask her how she was, I don’t care if she didn’t want to talk about it, I deserve for her at least to say she doesn’t want to talk about it and definitely a goodbye before she hung up.

I don’t know why she’s sad, I think it’s because of guys on Twitter harassing her, but I don’t know for sure – I want to approach her and find out but I feel like she wants to be left alone (especially since there’s a sign on her door saying ‘Leave me alone pls’. I don’t want to violate any boundaries but I want to comfort and console her and let her know everything will be alright.

I try my best for her because I love her to pieces.

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about babies and maybe having one with her. I know it’s a huge step in any relationship but I don’t know. I feel as though now isn’t the right time but then when is the right time? Exactly. We’ve only been together a year though and I don’t know. It is a life-changing commitment and will put us together permanently whether we like that or not. I know I love her and I know I always want to be with her, but for some reason, I’m still unsure about this. Maybe it’s because I want to experience my own life more before it changes entirely.

I don’t know.

I love her.

RB.

Long Days

Today was great; it was a long day, but a good one.

We were in Bradford today, a brilliant city with really nice (but strange) people. I know that a lot of people haven’t fundraised before and I’m going to be using some terminology in this (and future) posts:

Points – in fundraising you are not targetted on how much money you raise at all – it is an entirely points-based system. For example, 1 DD is 2 points, 1 text is 1 point.

DD – a Direct Debit; I do street fundraising and we aim to secure a long-term investment for the charity through the form of direct debits, which is why they’re worth more points.

Text – Another monthly donation; but an option with more control associated with it than a DD and usually more cost-effective for the donor.

Donor – the person agreeing to sign up for monthly donations.

Session – a segment of work; i.e. there are usually three sessions in a day with two half-hour breaks.

So, my weekly target is 12 points (6 DDs) and I managed to achieve 3 points in the very first session this morning which is better than I have ever done in a session. I was certain I was going to hit target that day which is 4 points a day (I work 3 days a week because I study alongside it) but, for whatever reason, I didn’t score again at all today. I attribute my success to beginning this blog, but it may also be the downfall. I focused too much today on adding a new post here because I was so excited to do so! However, I also think that I tried my absolute hardest today, so go figure.

B

Saturday night is date night and tonight we’re going to see the movie ‘Truth or Dare’ at the cinema, then we’re coming back for a nice relaxing night together. I’ve got a day off tomorrow but I’m hoping to spend it at the library finishing the presentation that I’ve got to do for Monday.

She’s promised me a surprise when we get back too, so I’m looking forward to that. The only thing I’m worried about is how I look because I’ve worked all day and not had the chance to get ready at all; it’s been hot and long but I don’t want that to ruin anything. I really appreciate the effort that we both put into prolonging date night.

RB.