Tag Archives: change

The Change

Posted on by under poetry

Nothing ever changes but I always feel like I have to be going.
Move on, get better, take steps and make sure that they’re showing.

But I am still myself.

I like abstract ideas more than I like reality.
Not as much how things actually are – but in my head – how they’re supposed to be.
When I look out at my imagined timeline I see an open future of daydreams and hope, but I don’t think about the fact that I’d have to carry myself there, like a backpack of stones,
I’d have to bring these spinning atoms, these empty doubts, these worn out bones.

I am still myself.

Sometimes I manage to get rid of it all,
all the fear and failure, every sadness, every fall
I rinse it away with new water, leave it behind in black footprints that I forget even were mine,
but then I learn the same things every time.

And in between I hide in the songs that make me wish you’d pity me,
I shut myself in and dream of being seen.
I’ll glare at you but you won’t see it because in comparison to my heart my voice will always be lesser,
because I am a hopeless people pleaser and I walk in pink hair and cute dresses.
And that’s the drawn out prelude of the end, because I am a ticking bomb,
but it’s all internal so it will never unfold.
I just have an itching soul with nowhere to explode.
I’ll slam my fists against stone cold floors because you were supposed to make me better.
You were supposed to fix me.

If you want me. You better make me better.

Still. After this, after all. I am still myself.

If you want to know why I run like this
It’s because I have fear dripping out through my fingertips.

How to notice the difference

Posted on by under Longer thoughts

“Isn’t it funny how day by day nothing changes, but when you look back, everything is different…”
-C.S.Lewis

This, I think, is one of the most underestimated truths.

You can’t look at the difference, you can just look and look again and notice that today is not yesterday.

We do not understand change. We think it’s a moment, the clock striking twelve on New years eve or when you realise you love someone… when in reality that’s just it, you realise the change but that is not the moment it happens. It already has, over and over again, in the choices you keep on making.

Sometimes it’s hard to remember that so many good things were once bad – diamonds out of pressed coal – because like the birds rising at dawn, they do not sing about the night.

I realised this while heading out to my room, the little cabin in my garden. It was snowing the other night and this is one of those changes you do notice. But these following pictures are of just that, of the snow and how the light makes everything slightly golden and warm, and how the sun seems to never set in the summer and the flowers make my home rest in a meadow. Nature doesn’t remember the wind from last week. I will not remember how it made everything creak or when the autumn leaves turned muddy and gross, and how even though it was completely dark without the snow, the full moon still managed to create moving shadows everywhere. That is not what I photographed.

The snow doesn’t remember the heat, nor the summer the autumn colours. The flower doesn’t remember the bud or it would never bloom. We think that our problem is that we live in the past, and it is. But our problem is not that we remember. Because we don’t. We see self-chosen memories, not truths, and so we can pick and choose. And we so rarely choose the time in between.

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