offwiththeirdollheads: (Default)
It begins with a sensation.

Like a fist to the stomach, an ice cold bath, a paper cut. Sharp and fast.
I'm standing at the top of the stairs and the sensation arrives, swift and direct, and the blood surges through my veins like lava and yes, I am ready to erupt. I am standing at the top of the stairs and the overwhelming urge to throw myself down its short flight of twenty steps grips me. Yet, these steps are not cushioned with linoleum or carpet, these are hard, cold concrete slaps and I want my skull to greet each one with a sickening crack. I want my bones to twist and snap and bend and break. I want my spine to shatter like peanut brittle. I want to feel each moment as I break and lose my shape. I don't want to recognise the reflection.

I've been here before.

Standing on the curb edge, waiting for the three tonne lorry to pass. Imagining what it would feel like to marry my flesh to it's hot metal. Or walking by the river, I wonder what it would be like to try to swallow it whole. The bubbles escaping from the corners of my mouth as I submerge further. I let it all in. Sinking deeper into the abyss.

Yet, it is fleeting. As quick as the sensation takes hold, it releases me from its clasp. Offering me a moment to look inside the cacophony of madness. It's like looking inside a large shell. The softest whisper is transformed in to a vibrating pulse that can not be escaped. It rings in your ears and the claws slide in.

And then it's gone.

Like a hypnotist snapping his fingers, his volunteer is brought back from the trance. He may be slightly dazed, bewildered even; what did he just experience? He's not quite sure but he knows it was fraught with danger. There's a relief afterwards. Thank god that's over with. Whatever that sensation was, whatever it meant, it's done with. Except as the willing volunteer stands up from the hypnotist's chair, he realises that he was not so willing after all and he's signed a contract with that sensation now. As sure as the sun rises each morning, that sensation is set to return.
offwiththeirdollheads: (Default)
Life is a delicate architecture and each day presents it's own earthquake. The foundations we have laid may not be as strong as we may think and sometimes we need to re-build. It could be one or two rooms at a time and sometimes you need that earthquake to bring the whole goddamn thing down so you can start again.
offwiththeirdollheads: (Default)
"In horoscopic astrology, a Saturn return is an astrological transit that occurs when the planet Saturn returns to the same place in the sky that it occupied at the moment of a person's birth." *

So here I am, slap bang in the middle of my first Saturn Return and it sure does feel confusingly turbulent. Theoretically speaking,'adulthood' should be the period of our lives when all the pieces start to come together; we develop a greater understanding of who we are and what role we play in society. The last threads of childhood should be cleanly snipped away and we can finally inhabit the adult skin we've harvested on our bones for all these years.

Throughout my early twenties I was convinced that as I began to reach the next decade (I still struggle to accept the word 'thirty'), everything would start to make more sense. The truth is, personally speaking, I've never felt further away from that ideology. The world is even more confusing, I will never understand a planet that harbours war, famine, murder, prejudice, animal cruelty and all the evils we see gracing the newspapers and magazines on a daily basis. My own personal world is just as confusing; I see people creating their own families and I am forced to accept that the prospect of doing the same is very unlikely. The idea of a career is a fallacy and I find that my greatest achievement is knowing that I have been able to make it through the day.

This is beginning to sound like 'Oh, woe me.' - However, this is not the case. I'm grateful for being in the position I am. It could be worse. We are the architects of our own future. We are solely responsible in shaping our own fate and we do this by making the most of what we have. In saying this, I'm still awaiting that 'Eureka!' moment. That soul-tingling, bone-shattering, mind-imploding instant where suddenly everything makes sense and you abruptly find yourself hurtling down the right path and you kick yourself and laugh because you 'knew it all along'.

I'm sure it's coming.

I guess most of us are looking for a similar thing and by this I don't mean having lots of money or owning an expensive house or being made 'top of the class'. It's beyond possessions or any other material object. It is about finally having that knowledge of where you fit in between the land and sky. It's about understanding how your actions are contributing to a greater use, therein attempting to create a better world even if the action is small in nature. It's about contentment, fulfilment and connection, however you may find it. I guess some people spend most of their lives trying to attain even a pinch of these things. It is a journey and at this moment in time, I have no idea of the destination. I can only hope that by the time of my next Saturn Return, I will have made a little more sense of it all.



*Source [Wikipedia.org - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saturn_return]

Escape

Dec. 31st, 2013 08:30 pm
offwiththeirdollheads: (Default)
So maybe I will move to an old abandoned farmhouse in the middle of nowhere and spend my time reading old books and take up a hobby like restoring antique furniture or painting. For company, I would raise chickens and pigs and I might keep a couple of cows further out field. Nights would be spent stargazing and drinking whiskey whilst remaining convinced that the bedroom at the end of the hallway was haunted. I would find the idea of a haunted room quite humbling as long as it was a peaceful spirit with a sense of humour. Summers would be long and humid but only during the daytime; I would drink home-made lemonade and cycle around the country. There would be orchards and cornfields to explore and when autumn brings its chill, I would wear large jumpers and cardigans and take the dogs for long walks. I'd convert the basement into a small wine cellar and keep candles in every room. There will be a large bookcase in the dining room (and yes this is a LARGE abandoned farmhouse), Kerouac, Rimbaud, Salinger and Burroughs would grace the shelves and there will always be music playing in every room. A rickety, old upright piano will live in the corner and the floors would be lined with large, detailed Persian rugs. The kitchen would be the heart of the house the smell of baked food would drift through each room inviting guests towards the welcoming centre. And there would be love; two strong arms that wrap around and offer up nothing but acceptance and longing. Two heartbeats and one rhythm. Two minds and one communion.

Profile

offwiththeirdollheads: (Default)
Not an Oracle

January 2016

S M T W T F S
     12
3456789
10111213141516
17181920212223
24252627282930
31      

Most Popular Tags