Here lie....... Ardent Articulation, Unashamed Utterances, Contemplative Commentary, Rash Reasoning, Loud Logic, Obscure Observations, Unconventional Understanding, Passionate Poetry, Bloggy Banter and Witty Wondering..........May they live on in this corner of cyber space eternally.........R.I.P
You write a book and it's what you think really. I buy it on Amazon and know what you think. I don't even know you but in so many ways I do. Your book is a piece of you, isn't it?
You try and argue your case with me, Tell me your 'truth' and beg me to believe I like your thoughts but may not always conform I have my own and you'll see them soon
So allure me and coax me, draw me and entice me I will come only as far as I let myself I will enter your mind and bookmark what you think And then I will think and I will write
You will hear me and see me and get into my head You will know what it is to be me very soon You will drop your jaws and be apalled at my words But write I will and read you will
I will challenge anything you've every thought I will ruffle your feathers and make you uncomfortable I will shake your beliefs and make you ask questions My book will be just what you'd wished yours was!
But honestly, I'm only a girl with a pen No actually a girl with a small broken laptop Who dreams of this book that will change the world Who knows maybe one day it will
You are another person. You can't be me...so don't try. I can't make you me...so I won't try either. You be you and I'll be me. Let them be them.
You won't ever change. You like to be you. Then what makes you think you have the right to change me? Don't even try to change me because I will. I will change and become something you don't like. Then you will complain about how I am not what I used to be. Then I will try to be what I used to be. Then you will be like 'You're confused' But I will be like 'No you are!' because you don't know what you want me to be.
Go home and sleep now. Don't come to haunt me. Don't worry me, don't doubt me, don't trouble me and don't judge me. You think you are perfect but guess what no one can be perfect. I don't need you to tell me what to do anymore. Or how to be like.
You refuse to leave no? You know what? I regret creating you. Over the years, I formed you in my head. You are the ideal me. The me I'd like to be. But truth is - I don't need you anymore. I've made a strong decision to be imperfect and vulnerable. To learn from mistakes and be human like I am. You don't exist. So stop nagging me. Get out before I kill you.
It's like this music I'm dancing to that I can't hear physically. Like I'm joining these dots that He has already put in place and it's forming this beautiful picture. Like lines I'm reading from a play that I've never seen before. That's the closest I can get to describing my life right now.
I love it this way. He makes the choices for me. All I have to do is choose to live His choice. He leads. I follow. He sings. I dance. He lures. I run after mesmerized. He makes it happen. I live it.
Sounds like fun doesn't it. Sounds like something any monkey can do. But it isn't. Following is much more difficult than leading. Listening harder than talking. It's tougher than you imagine to be obedient than to call the shots.
It's because following God's plan means deserting your own. It means forsaking your way for life and adopting His. It means changing your clock to work according to His time. It means letting go of your tight grip on the brush to let Him paint with it. It also means living in tough situations, making uncomfortable decisions, learning rock hard lessons and doing all of it by yourself. Your Self and you. Alone. In solitude. In confinement.
But with that lovely decision to follow Him comes an unprecedented blessing. An overpouring of His unlimited favour. Incredible grace and incomprehensible abundance. Slowly, pieces of life fall together like a brick road forming in front of your feet to tell you where to go. Slowly, you succumb to His plans because He will surprise you like you'd not imagine in your wildest dreams.
He will gently lead you through a mysterious place like a lover looking for a secret place where He can tell you He wants to marry you. He will amaze you by making your secret desires come to pass. He will make every insignicant meeting with someone a design of destiny. He will weave people into the tapestry of your life who will help you grow and who will council you. He will make the music and you will dance.
He will be God. And you will be all that He wants you to be.
All I need to do is choose His choice. Say 'I do'. To just be there when He's looking for a new exciting project. When He's looking for a life to mould or a destiny to shape. Just hang around when He's feeling creative and jump up when He says, "Who will go?"
I want to travel. I want to go to every exotic place I've watched documentaries about. I want to ride a bike down a ragged lonely road in Italy. I want to go on an African safari and live in a tree house. I want to learn to salsa from a handsome Columbian local. I want to eat creamy hot fondue in Marseille, hold a glass of wine and pretend to be francaise. I want to have a pet penguin and keep him in my freezer. I want to lie in the shade of a big oak tree in the middle of nowhere and read a book. I want to wear a long white skirt and spin and drop I want to go to New York and wear a 'I love N Y' t-shirt and do crazy touristy stuff. I want to let my hair down and jump on a trampoline I want to go to Japan just to see if sushi can get any better than it is! I want to play hide and seek in my grandfather's house again I want to write a book and then sign a copy of it for people I love. I want to say something really witty that someone might put in The Chicken Soup Series. I want to go to a posh restaurant in a cocktail dress and wine and dine. I want to sing to a huge audience that is extremely quiet and well-seated. I want to write about my life in great detail without omitting a single bit. I want to run a marathon. I want to learn to fly a kite decently. I want to laugh till I cry when daddy tickles me. I want to sleep in a round bed. I want to have my own barbie doll. I want to stop writing this post. I want to stop wanting so much. I want to be less wishful. I want to be less. I want to be. I want to. I want.
I look into things too much. Too nosy. Too probing. Too many questions. Maybe that's why I'm a journalist.
So look down on us voyeurs, peepers and overhearers as much as you want but sometimes there is genuinely nothing better to do in the train!!
Okay, this morning I saw something really interesting in the train. Drama! Drama! Drama!
A baby boy struggling with his little buggy seat belt as he wanted to get out of it and walk around (as if he could!!) while his surprisingly thin mum was being chatted up by a prospective father!
This was their conversation:
Prospective Father(PF): Nice boy you got there! Is he yours? Thin Mum (TM): Oh yes he is. PF: He has adorable eyes ...quite like yours... really! TM: Oh Thanks, but I really think he looks like his dad. PF takes a quick look at TM's ring finger...'NO RING!!!!' yay...so he carefully structures his next line.... PF: And how come daddy is not out today on this little trip! TM: (looks down at her boy...breathes heavily and then talks) He doesnt live here...he's lives in Southampton with his wife. PF: I'm sorry...I really am TM: No you shouldnt be...I'm not...
At this stage...baby has succeeded in slightly loosening the belt and looks at me with 'help me' eyes.
There is an uncomfortable silence which TM breaks quite unceremoniously.
TM: So nice weather ha? PF: yeah...well! yeah...sure! yeah...(smiles hesitantly still planning his next move).....fancy a coffee sometime? TM: Ah well, I'm not sure about that now... PF: You hate coffee ha? TM: No no its not that PF: My sister and mom have this repulsion to caffiene ..i totally understand TM: (laughs a little...looks at baby and then sighs again...she straps baby back in tightly...he had almost escaped....and then pushed the buggy to the door.....opens her purse...writes her number on a baby tissue and gives it to PF) Call me sometime...i like coffee..(gets of the train!)
PF smells the tissue and puts it away in wallet....
I thought about this incident as I was walking to work...it wasn't just the baby who was trying to get the seatbelt open and escape that tight hold of the buggy....as he was doing that...mum was also struggling to break free and escape.... to live again..to love again maybe! or simply to have coffee with a handsome stranger.
Time: 21:42 GMT Location: On my bed in my room bundled up in a duvet. Emotion: "I don't want to grow older! I don't want to grow older! I don't want to grow older!"
