Certain things can evoke memories of times gone by - a song, a smell, a place or even a person.
Recently I took a trip down memory lane after encountering a person-who-reminded-me, perhaps this was a fleeting interaction, it may be a longer trip but they reminded me of the girl-I-once-was.
It was interesting for the girl-I-am-now to see the girl-I-once-was, to remember how she thought, and felt, her hopes and dreams, her goals and wishes.
The girl-I-am-now knows that some wishes came true, some changed, some were left along the wayside and some intrinsic things remain the same to this day.
I wonder though, if the girl-I-once-was knew the things that the girl-I-am-now now knows, if that would have affected her choices, the paths she walked and those she didn't choose. Those she gave up on and those she never found.
I doubt it, as each choice we make, each path we choose is the right one at the right time, though perhaps not right in the right now.
However it was lovely to see the girl-I-once-was. I have missed her.
It was also interesting to meet the person-who-reminded-me; and he may remind me again, but thats neither here nor now, nor sure but maybe may be, in the future?
I am sure of one thing, that girl-I-once-was, I will be seeing a lot more of her from now on.
Sunday, 9 March 2014
Banter/Flirting
Banter effectively means a verbal discourse, the back and forth between two people, often in a joking or kidding manner.
Banter is the word du jour. Previously we called it flirting.
Flirting is amazing, to find someone with a quick wit, innuendo, vague sexual references. Interest shown and reciprocated.
Banter/Flirting is like a tennis match. The ball sails over the net and is lobbed back and forth, kinetic energy moving and transforming, creating heat.
The pressure can sometimes be too much, you may overserve or hit one into the net. It can be a long drawn out match leaving you on tenterhooks, or a quick game for the fun of it, but regardless...
Flirting always makes you feel good.
Banter is the word du jour. Previously we called it flirting.
Flirting is amazing, to find someone with a quick wit, innuendo, vague sexual references. Interest shown and reciprocated.
Banter/Flirting is like a tennis match. The ball sails over the net and is lobbed back and forth, kinetic energy moving and transforming, creating heat.
The pressure can sometimes be too much, you may overserve or hit one into the net. It can be a long drawn out match leaving you on tenterhooks, or a quick game for the fun of it, but regardless...
Flirting always makes you feel good.
Hope
Hope begins like a small seed, implanted deep inside. It slowly, sneakily, stealthily unravels and grows.
The tiny glint in your eye, a word, an inflection, the raising of the corners of your mouth.
The warmth slowly spreads throughout you, through you, over and above you, enveloping you.
The twinkle shines brighter, the smile becomes a smirk, and joy rushes in where hope was hiding.
Euphoria courses through your soul like blood through your veins, feeling as if you are holding inside the most precious of secrets.
Hope for now, for then, for the future.
Hope that everything will be alright.
This chain reaction starts with the smallest realization, a glance, a word or a smile, a feeling. But can grow to massive gigantuan proportions.
Sometimes it shatters, and the low is such a low, dashed against metaphorical rocks.
But stil....we hope....
The tiny glint in your eye, a word, an inflection, the raising of the corners of your mouth.
The warmth slowly spreads throughout you, through you, over and above you, enveloping you.
The twinkle shines brighter, the smile becomes a smirk, and joy rushes in where hope was hiding.
Euphoria courses through your soul like blood through your veins, feeling as if you are holding inside the most precious of secrets.
Hope for now, for then, for the future.
Hope that everything will be alright.
This chain reaction starts with the smallest realization, a glance, a word or a smile, a feeling. But can grow to massive gigantuan proportions.
Sometimes it shatters, and the low is such a low, dashed against metaphorical rocks.
But stil....we hope....
Truth Hurts
Lies
Like worms.
Crawling over me, under me, around me.
Whispering in my ear.
Sneaking into my bloodstream, my brain, my stomach, my heart.
Until, I begin to doubt, doubt. Not knowing what is true any longer.
Wriggling black and evil around me.
Truths
"The truth shall prevail" says the old proverb, and it does.
It slowly unfolds, piece by piece, but intangible like a fine mist.
The mist covers the worms of lies, erodes them and they melt away, but they leave empty spaces.
Holes where they once were.
Painful gaps.
The truth hurts.
Like worms.
Crawling over me, under me, around me.
Whispering in my ear.
Sneaking into my bloodstream, my brain, my stomach, my heart.
Until, I begin to doubt, doubt. Not knowing what is true any longer.
Wriggling black and evil around me.
Truths
"The truth shall prevail" says the old proverb, and it does.
It slowly unfolds, piece by piece, but intangible like a fine mist.
The mist covers the worms of lies, erodes them and they melt away, but they leave empty spaces.
Holes where they once were.
Painful gaps.
The truth hurts.
Strength
Some people say that patience is a virtue, but I believe strength trumps everything.
I am a very strong person, mentally, emotionally, if not physically. Its my most redeeming characteristic.
Unfortunately people recognise my strength and draw on it for themselves, they envy it. Some have even tried to break me or manipulate me, to abuse, to hurt, and to scar.
I always have strength in my beliefs, my ideals, my principles and morals. Some may say i'm stubborn or pig headed, or even close minded, but i'm not. I just feel strongly about some things. That's a strength too.
Being strong is often lonely, people can resent you or not know how to react if you do break down.
Personally, I do not do that much, though I am more private in my behaviours.I take my hurts, small and large and enormous, and ingest them. I squash them into a tiny ball deep down, and deal with them alone, quietly and privately.
Sometimes I don't want to be the strong one anymore. Sometimes I want someone else to nuture, to pick up the pieces, to kiss it all better and scare the boogeyman away.
Maybe one day I will find that person.
I am a very strong person, mentally, emotionally, if not physically. Its my most redeeming characteristic.
Unfortunately people recognise my strength and draw on it for themselves, they envy it. Some have even tried to break me or manipulate me, to abuse, to hurt, and to scar.
I always have strength in my beliefs, my ideals, my principles and morals. Some may say i'm stubborn or pig headed, or even close minded, but i'm not. I just feel strongly about some things. That's a strength too.
Being strong is often lonely, people can resent you or not know how to react if you do break down.
Personally, I do not do that much, though I am more private in my behaviours.I take my hurts, small and large and enormous, and ingest them. I squash them into a tiny ball deep down, and deal with them alone, quietly and privately.
Sometimes I don't want to be the strong one anymore. Sometimes I want someone else to nuture, to pick up the pieces, to kiss it all better and scare the boogeyman away.
Maybe one day I will find that person.
Raw
The first lie they tell us is that fairytales can come true.
The second is that people are inherently good.
I learnt the hard way that neither of these hypotheses are true, that the world can be cold, dark and lonely; that people are selfish, self absorbed and often downright nasty.
That every time your heart breaks, it hardens and shrinks a little more, that you lose trust in others and in yourself. Your self esteem takes a knocking, sometimes to smithereens.
That you can't always be who you want to be, or do what you want to do.That life comes along and it destroys your plans, your goals, compromises your principles and stomps on your heart time and time again.
People can hurt you.
Those who you love or respect can hurt you the most.
We grow, we shrink, we change and we think the trick is to just keep on picking ourselves up and trying again and again, on and on and on and on.
We lie to ourselves and manufacture excuses for others bad judgements and behaviours, especially when its is aimed at us.....is it egoism or blind hope that people are not so cruel, so hurtful, so soul destroying, that the wicked with dies and the bad guys lose.
Until we can no longer lie to ourselves, the truth is there stark, enormous, in balck and white with no grey areas, in your face, unescapable, unexcusble and unappealing.
And sometimes that realization hurts more, and the hindsight, the looking back, the signs are so obvious, how did I miss them?
And he lied, and she lied, and I lied to myself.
Over and over again.
And broke a little inside.
The trust, the heart, the soul - leaving you raw and open and bleeding, nerves on edge, wound so tight, heart in pieces, broken and bruised.
And yet however raw we feel... we heal.
We mend and the hope creeps back in, and whilst we may not be able to give 100%, we give 99,9 and we get back on that horse, and theres plenty of fish in the sea and a leopard can change it's spots.
And we try again, we trust, we love, we hope.
And the rawness fades
The second is that people are inherently good.
I learnt the hard way that neither of these hypotheses are true, that the world can be cold, dark and lonely; that people are selfish, self absorbed and often downright nasty.
That every time your heart breaks, it hardens and shrinks a little more, that you lose trust in others and in yourself. Your self esteem takes a knocking, sometimes to smithereens.
That you can't always be who you want to be, or do what you want to do.That life comes along and it destroys your plans, your goals, compromises your principles and stomps on your heart time and time again.
People can hurt you.
Those who you love or respect can hurt you the most.
We grow, we shrink, we change and we think the trick is to just keep on picking ourselves up and trying again and again, on and on and on and on.
We lie to ourselves and manufacture excuses for others bad judgements and behaviours, especially when its is aimed at us.....is it egoism or blind hope that people are not so cruel, so hurtful, so soul destroying, that the wicked with dies and the bad guys lose.
Until we can no longer lie to ourselves, the truth is there stark, enormous, in balck and white with no grey areas, in your face, unescapable, unexcusble and unappealing.
And sometimes that realization hurts more, and the hindsight, the looking back, the signs are so obvious, how did I miss them?
And he lied, and she lied, and I lied to myself.
Over and over again.
And broke a little inside.
The trust, the heart, the soul - leaving you raw and open and bleeding, nerves on edge, wound so tight, heart in pieces, broken and bruised.
And yet however raw we feel... we heal.
We mend and the hope creeps back in, and whilst we may not be able to give 100%, we give 99,9 and we get back on that horse, and theres plenty of fish in the sea and a leopard can change it's spots.
And we try again, we trust, we love, we hope.
And the rawness fades
Update - March 2014
I have to apologize, I have been writing, just longhand and I have been a naughty girl and not posted anything.
Procrastination thy name is Nicolle.
Recently, my writing has gone in a strange direction, I think it has been mainly influenced by emotion, rather than skill or craft; ergo it is choppy, disjointed, angry, emotional...but I like it.
I hope you enjoy it, but if you don't...well tough! I don't do this for validation; my style is mine and its fluid and inconsistant and true - it reflects me like a mirror.
Anyhow, I will post the past few pieces of writing, raw and unedited.
Procrastination thy name is Nicolle.
Recently, my writing has gone in a strange direction, I think it has been mainly influenced by emotion, rather than skill or craft; ergo it is choppy, disjointed, angry, emotional...but I like it.
I hope you enjoy it, but if you don't...well tough! I don't do this for validation; my style is mine and its fluid and inconsistant and true - it reflects me like a mirror.
Anyhow, I will post the past few pieces of writing, raw and unedited.
Saturday, 8 February 2014
Nicolle Roberts
Author/Writer
Blogger.
Reader.
Reviewer.
Editor.
General Life Commentator.
Boundary Pusher.
Here....
Blogger.
Reader.
Reviewer.
Editor.
General Life Commentator.
Boundary Pusher.
Here....
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