Sunday 22 January 2012

let sob


A sob for every realization.  Each one from a deeper part of my chest.  My ribs heave to take in air for that is all I can manage.  Tears fall to page. Freeing ink to run. Escape.  Even it can’t stand to be here.  My hand won’t leave my mouth in some vain attempt to keep my grief in.

There is no resolution. Yet. Though there will.

Sunday 1 January 2012

second hand


I’m not one for New Year resolutions.  I have never made one before. I’ve not made long lists of well meaning intentions for improvement with ‘I will not strive so much’ lost somewhere down the dot points. Though ironically such lists exist. Sadly, motivation of others around me seems to peter out as the digits flip over and increase.  Days. Months. Those who were clinging soo tightly to the belief that with the passing of the second hand across it’s highest point that night the past will be forgotten. Slate wiped clean.  ‘This year I will do better. Be better.’  Soon their backs are whipped by their own whips for failing to succeed at everything they had promised to succeed at because it was written on a ’to-do’ list for the new self. So it must be so. 

To say that I don’t feel the pull to put pen to paper would be declaring a false freedom from all this that I wish I could avoid.  But I refrain.  I understand the symbolism behind a new year being as a new start but if you screw it up you have to hold onto that for much longer than is healthy.  A resolution is meant to be a way of articulating something about yourself that you would like to change but the stakes need not be soo high.  That second hand passes it’s start point every 60 seconds so there is no need to hold on to your own feelings of failure.  By all means pursue your dreams, strive to do better, we were not designed to grow stagnant, but make it your everyday.  Change because you want to, not because a calendar tries to make you take a long hard look at yourself.  Make a decision to change on the 3rd of March and be ok with the start date.