Fragmented


There are days and times where I feel like screaming and smashing things up, but my blank face somehow manages to mask it and I miraculously keep it all in. My stomach burns, my arms go numb and ache, my head hurts and my skin problem flares up. I feel stupid just writing this. The problem is that these moments have started to become increasingly common as the days go by.

I sit poised, my eyes wide open and my mind on alert as I observe what’s going on around me and inside of me. It’s a mix of numbness, resentment and that painful pinch of hope. If I write for this magazine, it’ll boost my portfolio and I’ll get accepted somewhere. I’ll work for these people, sure they don’t pay but it all counts as experience in the end right? My work and talent will eventually get noticed, it’ll just take time, I say to myself. Funny enough, it’s what everyone around me also says.

I’ve been a fighter for as long as I can remember. It’s a blessing and a burden, because even when I want to give up and throw the towel in, I just can’t bring myself to do it. I’ll sit, sulk, have a cry but soon find that my fingers itch with restless. Before I know it, I’m back to doing things even with tears in my eyes and an inextinguishable fire in my soul.

A full bodied monster from within, rears its ugly head of frustration, anger, determination and hope. It roars in anger and lashes out itself, ripping its scales and skin off as pain fills every cell of its body. It wanders around in a state of drunken rage until it has been exhausted by its anger. Tired, drowsy and with a heavy head, it looks up at the sky through half open bloodshot eyes. A dark blue circle flits across the sky. ICurious, the monster gets up and slowly walks towards the circle, unsure of who or what it is. The circle gets bigger and before the monster knows it, a watery cannon ball of comfort hits its hot, bloodied skin and engulfs it. The monster falls to its knees, drenched in a pool of serenity, as it quietens itself down.

I get a text or an email that reminds me to just stay focused and take time out if I need it. A message that says: Your success or failure has nothing to do with anything else, anyone else and anything that is not YOU. I take a deep breath in and just keep going. Because it’s all that I can do.

Advertisements

5 thoughts on “Fragmented

  1. I can understand your frustration. It’s good to hear that you are taking the initiative to keep the mind occupied with writing, however in the end it would be ideal to get something other then “satisfaction” in return….some sort of financial reward is also important for the soul, nothing wrong with capitalism.
    It’s always comforting to know that your writing will eventually lead to something good, in terms of higher visibility and also something from it where you can support yourself – such positive thinking is vital to motivate yourself every day. Where I live, it’s not such a large geographical area in terms of full/part time work, hence I have to travel out, what is it like where you are? Are you having much joy in seeking a part time job which brings in a little something while also allowing you the time to write?
    Chin up! Life enjoys a good battle against us battlers…never give it a sniff of anything else but a right old tussle!!

    Like

    • Oh absolutely! At the end of the day, it’s my livelihood which matters more and actually pays. That’d be great.
      Funny enough I’m in the “hub” of the hustle and bustle of life, London, which is great but also means it’s difficult to get your work seen, noticed and put out there. Add on the competition and it makes the journey more of an uphill battle.
      Things have been quite heavy, emotionally speaking, but today I feel like I’m back to old self, back on form and ready to kick butt 🙂

      Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s