Stuck


I have reached an impasse
And all roads lead to
Somewhere I wont follow.
I hover in the Inbetween
As to do lists become lazy coasters.

I have run out of words
And wonder should I abandon ship
For one small night
And pack my hopes and dreams away

I sit forgotten yet unaware
Lost in the humdrum of everyday noises
I am deafened by my own silence

All that I could be remains unfinished ,
Could I ever be anything but me?

And do I want to be
That one Lone voice
In the crowd.
Colour me in, I am empty
I am stuck
Like I am paralysed by my own unimportantance.

It is as though i have forgotten
The fundamentals of making
Sentences from words and
Finding humor in my anger.
Wanting to chip, chip away
At the walls which hem me in


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The darker side of romance

Image
  For some reason I felt compelled to write about a corner of my past that hasn't been part of my blog before. a heads up to anyone who might be upset by this topic I will be delving into emotional abuse so feel free to stop reading now if you don't feel able to carry on. When I was in my late 20's I met a guy on a night out. He was a few years younger than me and honestly looking back threw up a couple of red flags early but I didn't trust my own intuition plus I was only a few months away from finishing college and planned to move to Edinburgh in a few months so it wasn't like it was going to be anything more than a brief fling. However as time went on I became more infatuated with him, there was an intensity there and he seemed sweet but damaged. Like a perfect modern fairytale I thought I would be the one to fix him. somehow plans changed and he was going to follow me over to Edinburgh, get a job there and we were going to live happily ever after. at this point
Read more

Help, I think I'm autistic

Image
 So I, at the age of 41, have come to the realization that I am autistic.  Growing up I always had a feeling something about me was a little bit off. I never quite fit in and I wasn't sure why. It was like everyone had been given a book of rules of how to exist in society but no one had thought to hand me a copy. Looking back with hindsight the signs were there. I was a super sensitive kid, a sensitivity I have not lost in adulthood, I cried very easily and felt every emotion very deeply. I was a picky eater and very particular about the textures of different food. I was very sensitive to light and noise and the feel of different fabrics. I was never a hugger. all of these things are as true about me now as they were when I was younger. I am socially awkward, I don't make friends that easily and will joke I am an acquired taste. Eye contact is something I have to actively work on and small talk feels like torture.  I thrive on alone time, I am incredibly sensitive to the moods
Read more

Sometimes I open my mouth and my mother comes out ..

Image
I have been told on more than one occasion that I'm sarcastic. Often that I'm too sarcastic (as though there could be such a thing) and I have retort up my sleeve for such occasions which is if you think I'm sarcastic you should meet my mother. No, really you should because my sarcasm is but a pale imitation of hers. Every so often though I come out without something that makes my friends or other family members pause because sometimes when I open my mouth, my mother comes out.  It's funny how people always take the words you are turning into your mother as such an insult because the reality of the matter is it's a both a good and bad thing. Obviously there are certain qualities I am perfectly happy to emulate and others not so much and on the whole I am not entirely sure how much control I have over it. It's not quite a pick and mix counter here. I think there are some habits you are not even aware you have picked up until someone else kindly points it out.
Read more