“Fit and healthy knows no size, it’s something you feel, everyday. It determines how you see the world and how you see your self.”
Kelly Farrell
9 months ago / 0 notes
“eventually someones bound understand”
K A Farrell
1 year ago / 0 notes
IM PROUD OF MY ID The study of Sigmund Freud

IM PROUD OF MY ID
The study of Sigmund Freud



If tomorrow you decided to change your name, cut your hair or buy a new car, would you still be the same person. If someone was to call your original name out to you, would you still turn around?

Your ego is your identity. Your identity defines what characteristics your personality consist of. Philosophers, scientist, physicist, psychologists or any other job title that deals with the mysteries of how the mind works; have been questioning to what degree the individual ego goes to, that defines a specific personality. Are we born with specific genes that are set in stone or are our personalities an ever changing part of us that adapts to its surrounding, much like a chameleon? Of all the studies and of all the research performed, I believe there was one man who hit the nail on the head. Or in this case, pulled the sword from the stone.

In the words of Sigmund Freud the ego is a part of our personality that deals with reality. He believed that the ego has to deal with the conflicting demands of both the ID and Superego. A person’s id seeks to fulfil their wants, needs, and impulses while the superego attempts to get the ego to act in an idealistic and moral manner.

In my eyes, its like we all walk around with a microchip given to us at birth, which grows with us and is moulded by our experiences and involvements. I’ve had a personal interest in the studies of Sigmund Freud for quite sometime. I have researched his work in order to obtain a further understanding of my own insecurities and phobias. Unfortunately, Freud couldn’t explain why I’m terrified of large cutlery, but then again, I don’t think even modern therapists would have a reasonable explanation for it, besides you’re a weirdo.

Freud goes to explain that through out our development we go through different stages that paint your Superego. Freud refers to this as psychosexual development. Freud believes that our psychosexual energy is the driving force behind our behaviours. If these stages are completed successfully, a healthy personality evolves.

Now, have a close look at your friends, family and even yourself, and examine their personality traits. I guarantee their all different. At some stage in each person’s life something went wrong, something happened to break the natural cycle of this development stage. No one is perfect and this is reflected in the behavioural patterns of the individual whose development stage was incomplete.

Some people have trouble been accepted socially which is no reflection on the people around them. It’s the individual who is responsible. But the damage was done in the past when the individual was going through the stage that develops the ability to have a social personality, this is known as the latent stage, usually from the ages of 6 to puberty. This stage is where sexual energy is present. This sexual energy is more directed and focused on areas such as social gatherings, peer relationships and intellectual pursuits. If something went wrong, the individual becomes stuck in this stage and until they go back and complete the stage, no progression will be made. The individual can skip the stage and move on, allowing them to develop other personality traits, but unfortunately lacks the benefits that would have come of that specific stage.

I’ve personally used Sigmund Freud’s studies to delve deeper into my own ego. I got stuck at a stage that plays a huge part of my adult life. Sex. Now Freud believes the moment we were born, a libido was created. And all our psychosexual development stages are driven by the energies from our libido.

During my late teens, the final stage of psychosexual development, I was so fixated on achieving higher results in my sport then achieving points with the boys, so to speak, I unfortunately never completed the initial stages of this development process.
This stage is known as the genital stage. In this stage, the individual develops a strong sexual interest in the opposite sex. This stage begins throughout ones puberty cycle and will go through to the end of life. So in reality, an individual has many opportunities to back track and start over in this sense to re program. If done the correct way that is. I feel an individual that doesn’t successfully complete this stage such as me, soon develops a fear of the opposite sex, rather then an intimate interest.

Personally I do have a sexual interest in the opposite sex, but because I was not up to date with the current trends and expectations of society in my late teens, I was unfortunately left behind. The drive is there, the interest is there, but without the experience I lose the confidence.

People in my position could quite possibly relate. I personally believe this ‘stuck’ feeling is not forever, and is a positive rather then a negative. I feel the majority of young people my age have abused this development stage and let there ego go loose. This loss of control is somewhat supported by alcohol infused energy and peer pressure. With out control of this stage, the individual loses self respect, or at least the recognition of self respect, therefore, the intimate relationships developed through out this stage lose there value. But people such as me are rare in my generation and in retrospect could probably reflect the level of development of someone in a more senior generation.

With all my friends around me, sleeping with him, dating her, marrying and having babies, I feel that in my position I’m judged and that if I were to meet a boy, they will expect the same behaviours of my fellow sisters. This unfortunately generates more fear and more insecurity when faced with the opposite sex. And it also creates more trust issues, being someone that understands human behaviour quite well, I’m aware that words are easily said and actions require effort. If these efforts are reflected with time and patience, then my want to trust becomes more stable. As an individual, I’m proud of my innocence, I find the level I have currently achieved in regards to the final psychosexual development stage is unique. Making me different. It would only take someone to slow down and actually take time to understand me before they realise I’m just the same as my sisters but with an extended level of self value.

There is nothing wrong with me. I’m clean I’m healthy I’m fun, and I’ve completed all other levels of psychosexual development which created a healthy relationship with family, parents, myself, strangers, social gatherings and a complete understanding of my ID, but just missed an important stage that developed the physical side of the genital stage. All the intention is there, I’m just waiting to meet someone who can help me complete the cycle.

I’m not broken, and I refuse to change my name, because I know that I’m secure enough to be proud of what my ID represents regardless of social standards. I’m confident that someone out there will recognise this and have just as much respect for me as I do myself…..

Do your self a favour…. Study Freud’s philosophy… and don’t ever change your name.

1 year ago / 0 notes
Blood stained streets

Reliving that memory
Blood stained streets

Shit got real tonight. My past resurfaced. And old emotions emerged that were buried under mountains of bitterness and anger. Knowing quite well, the description of my job involves attending critical incidents and unplanned adventures. I don’t think what I dealt with tonight will ever become custom to my routine. I don’t think what I dealt with tonight will ever become easy.

Blue and Red lights and a road clearing siren guided me to a sight that made my veins come to a holt. A 21 year old boy lying motionless, blood stained, with his fathers hand holding one of many wounds closed. Clinging onto every chance he had to stay awake. This boy with multiple stab wounds life went from normal to critical in an instant. Unfair perhaps? I couldn’t fucking agree with you more. All I could do was imagine my brother face on this poor boys, and want to do anything I could. Not because I wanted to put myself in his dads shoes, but because I was in his dads shoes at one point. A few years back, a selfish cold hearted man brutally bashed and stabbed my brother, shattering his face, cracking his skull and stabbing him in the back multiple times for no apparent reason and not even taking anything from him. He Just needed the enjoyment of destroying an innocent persons quality of life to satisfy his own existence. The hardest thing was I was notified immediately, by phone. Being 10 hours away, my life crumbled thinking im about to lose the most perfect and greatest person in my life and there is nothing I can do about it but wait. Wait. Wait. Tick tick tick. Times went so slow that morning.

I froze looking at this boy. And the fury built up. I relieved his fathers hands that were applying pressure to his wound on his head, and I said to the boy “hi mate, I’m Kell. Stay with me” He looked up at me and said something, that really annoyed me. “sorry”.

Broke me. Why is it they apologise. My brother still does. My brother never fought back. In fact, my brother has never hurt a fly. It doesn’t make sense to me. it’s the good, honourable and honest people that are brought down to ruins. Why is this? I have thought about this for years, hating the fact it was my brother and not me. My brother never retaliates, never whinges. Never has he shown a malicious streak. I have come to the conclusion, weather it be fact or just a theory I’ve created to give myself some piece of mind, that its those who are kind like my brother and possibly like the boy whose lying in front of me, who bottles everything bad, negative and dark and keeps it in. only then attracting that in other people. Resulting in a brutal lashing almost robbing them of there lives. I should consider myself lucky, my brother is still with us, but has to live with permanent scars, a face of metal, exhausting memories and a depleted quality of life. Not to mention, because the system we work under is a criminal system, not a justice system. This disgusting excuse for a human being still walks the street. The judge thinking that his reason of ’I dunno, I was on drugs’ was a sufficient answer to why’d you do it? Is enough to ensure his level of remorse is on par with a sinning priest. The thought of this bloke walking free will never sit well with my brother and a rippling wave of people around him.

The look in the fathers eyes was cold. Empty. I wanted him to understand I understood. A lot of people in my line of work, will say, get used to it Kell. This is the job. Unfortunately I never will. It burns me and Its something I will never take lightly. Two stab wounds to the head, 3 to the body is not what you expect to happen to your child, brother, cousin or whoever. I will never get used to this. Its to raw.

My brothers incident brought us closer. His always been my everything. I never told him, and he never knew. Until this. He said to me one time, that the look on my face when I saw him, his injuries and the state he was in, really said something. He said it made him realise what he meant to me. He realised that, without me and me without him, we would both be incomplete. He told me I completed him and together we create a perfect person. I instantly understood the importance of a sibling. And immediately understood the pain of losing one. He never realised how much I loved him. I took a lot from this, that actions really do speak louder then words. Losing him would have destroyed me. i would have lost what made me a better person. His the bricks attached to my feet. His the good inside my head. His my brother.

The boy kept apologising. When we arrived at the hospital, I spoke to the doctors who said, he’ll be lucky if he survives. Life threatening injuries and in an unstable condition. The loss of his spleen would be of minimum. I kept talking to him and he kept saying all he wanted to do was sleep. His blood painted face and body spoke for so much. I cared. I wanted to fix this. I wanted to change this. I didn’t know this boy from a bar of soap, but I felt more related to him at that moment then I do sometimes with people ive known for years. I wanted to either take his place or fix it…

I’m not quite sure how to end this chapter because ill be true with you, I don’t think there ever will be an end. Personally, because there is no piece of mind with my brothers incident, times like this will never sit well with me until all is fixed. And in today’s world…. The streets are already dripping with tomorrows innocent blood. My job will never be done. But I’ll try.

1 year ago / 0 notes
BOOTS TOO BIG

How often have you walked around a full day wearing shoes that are either too big, too small, too tight, too loose or even shoes that just don’t quite match your outfit? I guarantee you have but its not something you do everyday or at least plan to do everyday because, well really, who’d want to be uncomfortable for an entire day?

i know those who know me are thinking, bout bloody time kell wrote something on shoes, maybe her love affair with shoes has finally gotten the better of her, But thats not what i’m here to write about.  I wanna focus more on the metaphor shoes can represent in our lives. 

We all have our place, which comes with responsibility, a particular routine or even a specific lifestyle. Now, just as farmers cant farm without their gumboots, professionals cant succeed without some level of intelligence. We all take part in some role that comes with a certain concrete grounding that sustains a certain standard. We may outgrow these roles, earning different qualities in order to move forward. So to speak to you metaphorically, how can we judge each other without walking a day in each others shoes. 

Ive tried on many shoes. ive been the teacher and the student, ive been the nerd and the smart one, the big girl, the skinny girl, the fit the unfit, the homebody the party animal, the winner the loser, the role of mum and the role of child, ive been the tourist ive been the local, ive been the sad ive been the outgoing ive been the rich ive been the poor. ive tried on so many different boots in my life that I feel i have gained a stronger understanding of people in my society. this still doesn’t give me any authority to judge them, and to be honest i have no desire to. in fact ive gained more respect. looking back at the roles ive partaken in, and looking at where i stand now, i think the boots im sporting today have a very mediating style of character. i stand between the two of each boot allowing me to understand both extremes of character that comes with that shoe. 

let me explain, before moving to melbourne i was a fairly normal girl. Living under mum n dads roof, i didn’t have much to worry about besides getting to training on time or deciding if going to school everyday instead of training was the best option. life was grand. Image, money or what my parents thought of me was no issue. I just existed and that was it. upon moving to melbourne though  things changed. within 24 hours I went from being the average to something else. within 24 hours, i went from having endless supplies for survival to nothing. i went from being the normal energetic fit girl to the overweight not good enough girl in the eyes of my coach. in this coaches eyes i was overweight, but in the eyes of society i was a normal healthy 55 kg athletic girl. Every day i would get up put my normal boots on to get through my day but right before i entered my training facility i’d put the fat girl boots on. prepared to be scrutinised and bullied. The trauma of this bullying took its toll and sent me down a path that brought me to a point in my life where i understand the pain most overweight people go through. i’d never judge or comment on someones weight for i have walked a day in their shoes. Just as I have the skinny girls. this road also served me a pair of skinny girl boots, and I tell you, thats not so easy either. Now along with my bruised self esteem I walk around in a pair of shoes I’ve earned, that come along with badges of merit, strings of confidence attached to my name and a complexion only very few have the ability to wear. My new understanding of how some people live there lives, has had a major impact on me now. 

How can people walk around and throw comments when they have never had the opportunity to walk a day in there shoes. In the publics eye, the famous have it easy. In the poor eyes, the Rich have it all. I disagree. I feel we are all equal but just wearing a different uniform. of different grades of responsibility, earning different degrees of merit. The child given everything from a young age will never learn the lessons a poor child would. creating a balanced existence. 

The many shoes I have walked in, I never owned. But what I do take from the experience is the emotions, the lessons, the battles and the day to day challenges that make the boot or break the boot. I hold on to these lessons which allow me to accept the things im faced with everyday. Don’t judge shoes who walk bare footed, because think hard, if you are to face them in a shoeless race across a field of stones, its the tougher skin on the bottom of their feet that will bring them across the finish line before you.

So next time you see a different kind….. appreciate the shoe they wear!

1 year ago / 1 notes
The apple in the orange shrub

I got into conversation with someone last night who surprises me about who we are and where we are in out lives. I’ll elaborate on them later but they said something to me which got me thinking…. Again. This individual asked me if there was anyone special in my life and I responded with a routine answer, nah got no one… Don’t ask me why, just has worked out that way. He goes on to question how this could be possible, with me possibly being a pretty cool chick and I said, it’s not by choice, coz I’d love someone but I’m not willing to force something to work with someone when we both want different things. So in reality my life being on my own is pretty complete and to have someone would just be a bonus. So why would I try n make the effort for someone that is maybe not willing to take the time to understand what’s important to me or what interests me? but i still do wonder why i’ve not come across many good people who are willing to get to know me. Gen-Y and society these days want a quick fix. i think i was born in the wrong era. I still want someone to understand and someone to understand me before anything else.

This endearing fellow told me something which I havnt been able to relieve from my mind. He quotes

“Women are like apples on trees. The best ones are at the top of the tree. Most men don’t want to reach for the good ones because they are afraid of falling and getting hurt. Instead, they just take the rotten apples from the ground that aren’t as good, but easy…….so, the apples at the top think something is wrong with them, when in reality, they’re AMAZING. They just have to wait for the right guy to come along, the one who’s brave enough to climb all the way to the top of the tree….”

At first when I read it My insecurities began to dissect it. This particular person went on to inform me that I am a good apple, perched right up there at the top of the tree. I went on to tell him that Maybe i am a good apple but am more of a good apple hidden in an orange tree. still down low, but out of sight. To hear that in this persons mind I was maybe a good apple made me recalculate my worth and of course coming from this particular person made me feel really alive. This person unfortunately fails to recognise his value. He holds rare qualities u never come across, and I can confidently go ahead an say this analogy could specifically relate to Him. His a good apple, way up there. And can genuinely say i dunno if id ever have the guts to climb up there, regardless of my adrenalin Loving streak and no fear ways.

Anyway… If what he thinks is true, I begin to wonder if I will stay up there. Alone ‘swaying’ in the wind. What he doesn’t realise is, I have never had anyone to make me realise I’m am a tree top apple way up there, but more the fact people make me feel I’m hidden in a shrub with other fruit with none of my kind. To translate that, what I’m saying is, people I’ve come across have made me recognise my qualities and attributes but have never made me feel as if I’m a catch. Like they would climb the tree for me. If I’m in easy reach they will but if not, no can do, thats the Gen-Y way. What they do make feel Is that I’m surrounded by a whole heap of other people, girls (options) of equal quality and of equal ripeness but of a different kind. possibly easier and of different nature. I won’t lie, I know I’m good person but I can’t say I’m at the top.

Coming from such an intriguing person sparked a blinding feeling I’ve felt before. I see a lot in this person without knowing them for long, I have noticed a lot in him i see in myself. A rare understanding of the way people work and how the world equates, but lack that self esteem to understand his value. If I could make him see himself through my eyes or anyone else’s, I would. Because everyone deserves to know and believe how beautiful they are.

This person is still a stranger to me but in a strange way his not. I’ve never seen outter beauty in me, I’ve always recognised my inner. Which is abused a lot. And seeing this handsome, wise, successful intelligent person not see it makes me wonder if maybe I’m the same. Apple in a shrub, or an apple on top of the tree, we’ll nevre know where we are situated until someone goes the distance. It shouldn’t matter because I hope one day someone does pick me. It’s the ones that are hidden and the ones way up high that are lost. Confused. Questioning there place in the world. I hope this person understands that just by exercising his morals and values to lift up stranger he sees something in, makes him the ultimate apple. What I would do to climb that tree to obtain the fruit of his kind.

The apple in the orange shrub…. 

1 year ago / 0 notes
city views

What is it about the rejection from some people that really get us? I have a tendency to only engage with people to whom are worthy of me risking being rejected from. I’ve come across many people in my time, embark on short lived journeys with many, but very few travel the distance with me. I’ve got some to whom began as a short lived journey, yet returned more wise, educated and experienced in the field of relationships. What I mean is, they have learnt the importance of quality people, and have differentiated between those who are deserving of their time and those who aren’t. I too am one of those people to others. A lot turn away those who come back into their lives, because their so fixated on the past is the past for a good reason. Not necessarily. The is our way of learning. Some are just not built to expand on a role in some lives, for the qualities, values and principals of some people will never relate to a select few. This is not the work of the person, this is the work of something greater. Beyond our control.

Its disappointing when you come across some who in a unique way, fills an empty space in your world. When they choose to no longer be apart of you, weather they were for 10 years or ten days, it doesn’t matter, their decision to disengage has a larger impact then they may realise. Sure we have all been in the position where is was our decision to never call back, reply to letter or simply acknowledge there existence. At the time, it didn’t seem like such a big deal because it just fizzled out.. .. So you thought. Until the tables turn and you realise, due to your respect for that person and there wishes, you just don’t have to courage to fight for what you want and for what you originally anticipated would be the ultimate outcome for the connection in the first place. Some suffer a deeper pain then is truly exposed to the world. The only thing you can gather the strength to do is keep quiet and pray that maybe they do return. Because of course you’ll be waiting.

From my stairs im writing this, and I can see a world of city. More lights appear as time ticks by, and the cars get louder, the darker the sky. I look out apon the city and I wonder who it is, I’ve not met. Who it is, I missed, and who out there is on the cards. Is there someone in this city that I will meet, that change the way I think, or better yet, understand the way I think. Its fairly broad thing to think about, sometimes it frightens me. Maybe I already know this person, maybe either one of us is too afraid to be honest about what could actually come of our knowing each other. I got no one specific in mind, but with all my achievements, my medals, my trophies, my 1st places, my titles, my records, my independence, my talents, by beauty, my ugliness that makes me beautiful, my selfless deeds, my morals, my values and my mind, there is still a part of me that has never been touched. Sure the shell has been bruised and burned, but never touched. And ill always wonder who it is that will have the ability to learn all about it.

What I’m getting at is, when that person decides to disengage, and your total respect for that person only gives you the courage to sit back and wait if they notice you sooner or later, if if fact they do realise what good could come of you, and all your promises you made were actually genuine, will you actually still be there as you hope. Or will someone else have noticed you before them. Time doesn’t stop. Minds keep searching for meaning and the past will always keep accumulating gathering lessons and teaching to take with you. The thought of seeing them with another hurts a little, because you kinda wish you could have been the reason to make that person happy, and cant quite figure out what went wrong.

But I have no doubt in time, my past my present my future, my city views and my fantasies will combine soon enough. Bringing me a reason beyond my own achievements and independence, to make me smile.

I smile every day. Because that’s what I do. And I im a big believer in everyone around you being your teacher. After my abuse, and after my broken past, if I can still manage to wake up and smile at the world… I can see no reason for someone to not want to be apart of this. But what’s important to me is, one day, I hope I don’t have to keep smiling with a fixated ambition. I want to share my spontaneity and carefree nature with someone.

Time will not stop. My city views, are more then a view. Its novel waiting to be written. it’s a journey ready to be walked. it’s a mystery waiting to be solved. It my future waiting to become my present.

And it begins……. Again.

2 years ago / 0 notes
“Don’t prioritize someone who only considers you an option….”
2 years ago / 1 notes
6+

Ages 6 +

Games. As children we took part in many games. Some we made up ourselves and some our parents forced us to play in order to develop some sort of social confidence. Some children were found to be the dominating character amongst some groups while other tended to just play along and just do as there told, some were just not game players at all. When I was young, I enjoyed games, but I enjoyed to play the whole imaginary game where I was a superhero in the wilderness where I would communicate with animals and live in a world of luxury amongst the trees. Very rarely did I participate with groups in games. If I did, I took control and I set the scene and scenario. For example I was the lead spy and my friends were to do as they were told. I didn’t like playing the whole group thing because I was always cheated and manipulated. No one ever played fair. I’ve taken this whole concept of game playing into my adult hood, and from what I’m seeing, so have many other people.

At the ripe old age of 25, the primary focus that allows any room to move and chance to play any games is of course on the relationship scale. Career is too risky and usually controlled by a more senior leader to manipulate the results of any challenge. So here we are, 25 years old, hoping to meet someone to share my time with in a bunch of boys who either, love the thrill of games so much the emotions of anyone is irrelevant, or only know how to win. I don’t think once I’ve come across a bloke, who is in it just for the participation award. WHOAH!! I just noticed I said ‘in it’…. in what?? Here I am going about how shit it is people have to play games in something that doesn’t have to be so fucking complicated, and I go ahead and label it. Is that me generalising the idea of relationship and unconsciously knowing, the game is inevitable amongst the society our generation call life? Sadly, I think I did.

So much for me trying to get point across, but thanks to the idea of freelance writing, I think I may have just had realised something, I would never have before. I was wrong. These games I feel are the punishing result of insecurity. Lately I’ve come across many people who are willing to say things, or do things to keep my presence around, but not being able to maintain there form. Until that is, I no longer pay attention and they notice me more. Automatically making them engage in more communication that I originally expected earlier on. Then making me question there motives on there involvements with me, resulting in me contemplating my next ’move’. With me not being a typical game player, I’m more of a straight up, here’s my hand of cards kinda girl, without effort, have been loured into this mind F********concept. Buggar. I’m in the game.

Personally, if you couldn’t tell already, I hate the game. It shits me. And quite frankly, I just don’t quite understand it. It complicates things. More then I think people realise. If people just had the balls, to say it how it is, and stop torturing the innocent minds of good people, we can all move along and maybe meet the people we are truly aligned to meet. If we are so fixated on the game and trying to fulfil the insecurities that feed the game, we miss what’s important and good for us.

If you haven’t noticed, the good relationships that seem to last and stick together, evolve naturally. Without effort, because people feel something real and be honest about there feelings. By all means if you were the king on the castle when you were 6 and still strive to be that king in your 20’s, go ahead. But play fair, don’t disrespect+ the ideas of the one who was building sand castles alone, or pretended she was the fairy god mother, or my case, the local town spy… who work one up. Play the games with the ones who know the rules. For if you engage in the game with the fair, your destroying there trust and faith in the other sand pit kids that come alone.

2 years ago / 0 notes
$exual Impul$e

As she knocked on the door of which was scheduled by the forces of nature, her palms sweated and her hearing turned dull. Her fingers twitched and her heart was pounding like the beat of a solo drum. So nervous her eyes darted around so quickly that nothing she saw was admitted to memory.

The door handle turned and the door unlatched. Terrified and anxious. This moment seemed as if it lasted a lifetime. Thoughts and fantasies of what could come of the door been opened circulated her airy mind. Could this be a beginning or was she entering a game she feared to play again.

The door paused in motion, as she starred at the released lock, she focused on the footsteps that seemed to move further away rather then stationary to what she expected. The footsteps were rhythmically in tune with the drum beneath her quivering lungs. With her moist fingertips she reached for the stained glass door and ever so gently opened it with caution.

Movements from the bathroom from a man whom was known to her by name and by rumour was heard. She took a step forward and entered the house of which she was drawn. She could smell a family, and smell the comfort. It instantly inspired confidence that she was not out of place. But who was she in this house? The man whom she only knows by name, or rumour, is still a question in her mind.

Step by step she walked through the house past the bedrooms where his co sleep, past the kitchen where the mum has made the dinners, past the living room where the Christmas was celebrated. Past a reflection that put her in her place. She stood still. Frozen. The sweat dried up, the trembling stoped, the heart beat slowed. She starred at a woman, who was frightened. Who knows when touched by a man, would quiver, who knows this man, could make her woman. In her eyes, she was a girl, not worthy of a man. Contemplating existing through the point of entry, with a swift and clean departure, she was interrupted by a man of sculpture. Wrapped in a towel which if a few green leaves and diamond jewellery were added would complete the image of a god. “one moment” he says to her. She responds with a nod.

Moments later, within which nothing crossed her mind, he advanced upon her. Places his hands on her lower back and whispers in her ear “I’m glad you’re here” she places her hands upon his and moves in closer, there eyes lock and words are telepathically transmitted. Through the power of the emotions wrapped around them. “hold me tighter” she trembles. They lock lips, and the story begins. Soft and gentle, he made her sweat return. All she wanted to do was throw him down and let the worship begin. he was not to know how badly she wanted to take over and take control, but frozen with fear of destroying the moment overpowered her internal desire.

He takes her hand, and leads her to the couch. And lays her down. She felt insecure but knew she was in good hands. Worrying about what to do next and if she would destroy the moment with an incorrect compulsion, she didn’t move. Terrified, in the eyes of god, she was a virgin. But had her virginity vandalised. She felt broken. But in the moment wanted to be worthy. He looked her body, up and down, he stroked her smooth skin on her legs, at his point, butterflies took over her chest, and she grinned. His touch felt right. ‘maybe in time he’ll find I’m not scared, if he gives me time he’ll see’ she thought. He ran his hand over her body and placed them firmly on her jaw, which triggered a kiss so aggressive, she felt in control. He placed his lips upon her necked and kissed her, long and softly. Breathed in her ear and placed kisses upon the lobe. His touch made her shiver. At this point, she entered a fantasy. What she wanted to do, rather then what she did. She took his hand and said quietly “touch me, don’t be scared” momentarily they looked at one another and they both knew what was next.

He used his strength and body to immobilise her small stature, “worship me” she said, like you’ll never see me again. At which point she grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and demanded he kiss her. He lifts her up around his waist and she wrapped her legs so tightly around him as if she was never letting go. His hands groped her breast and she quivered as he licked from neck to neck. He was not to know, how terrified she was, she never wanted to go. The first of few, or the first of many this girl wanted to be loved.

The moment lasted for a lifetime, but ended too soon, he placed her milky body on the bed and lied down next to her. He was like a rare breed, of which she thought was never real. She believes she the game. She wont call if not her place, but wants to. She wont follow if there is no lead. She will however, bleed for him and support his every need. Take him to the country and take him to the sea. Of which heals her when in need. Her insecurity tell her, this is it. Brief, but worth it.

But to be touched by a man inspires her sexual impulse to surface, parts of her body pulse erotically at the sight of his name, and at the thought of his touch. “I’m not worthy” he tells her, but she knows this isn’t true. His a perfect in her mind. doesn’t matter how he touches her, or how he makes her tremble in her mind, until he wants to claim her… she will just be a girl. And remain a girl. And the game…

2 years ago / 1 notes
Music

Music.

You can take it with you and relive it when ever silence burns your ears.

It can emphasise any emotion and motivate the slightest spark of ambition.

It can make u hate love and fear. It can give u anything u want.

It doesn’t need to make sense. It doesn’t have to rhyme. It’s can a few words and a string. Or a string and a strum and just the thoughts it creates.

People generally underestimate the power of music. It can be terrifying. It can help u relive moments over and over gain.

It can help u remember. A day a feeling a moment.

It can make one cry or one smile.

Music can be be natural or generated by instrument of people.

The waves, the song of power. The rain, the song of weeping. A bird, a Song of life. A voice, a song of talent. A strum, the song of isolation. A heart beat, a song of time standing still.

It can make the strongest man cry and speak for the those who cant.

Music. What is music to you. Stop every once in a while. Listen. The world is your orchestra. The words from a stranger, could be your answer. Listen, what are people trying to tell you. Listen. Everything is your music.

Embrace the ones who are trying to be your music. Let me thing.

2 years ago / 0 notes
Eunuchs of the world

Whilst sitting on my couch in my freezing lounge room, too tight to turn heater on, I wonder about a concept on the ever so popular tv series the big bang theory. Its where the token ethnic guy has a deep insecurity around woman that only a drop of alcohol can cure. Besides the cold that’s Lituraly making my teeth chatter so quickly it’s like a merracher band has taken residence in my apartment, the idea of a man been so terrified to talk to a woman really bothers me.in fact it cripples my inquisitive mind to the point where it is just ludicrous.

In my ever so biased opinion that’s some what so far from the accurate truth, I assumed men where suppose to be the confidence that lurks the walls I life. Does Everyman have a raj in them somewhere or is it just an odd few whose confidence is so debilitated by the presence of a woman that turns them momentarily into eunuch.

As funny as it may seem, I’m pretty sure thats what happens. Now personally i think, In the real world and not the beautiful world of Sheldon cooper and his theory that everything from your lunch decision to relationship advice is bound by atoms and balanced by the superior and perfect equations Of ridiculous units of measure that formulate a conclusion that has absolutely nothing to do with the initial question…. November divided by the height of your lounge room lamp will equal the accurate measure of heat created by the energy of focusing on a spoon for a whole 3 uninterrupted minutes, I think some men become so
Frozen by a woman and her beauty they are afraid to say anything wrong.

These woman don’t necessarily need to be stunning, I think it’s the mere emotion and energy someone brings to another. We are all on different levels and have experienced different things. We all had emptiness and vulnerabilities. It might be the confidence, a smile, a gesture or some thing deeper that completes them beyond vision. This sort of attraction can Immobilize your actions, jumble your words and make u double think everything u say.

I understand what it feels like. I get so caught up in the fear of saying and doing something ridiculous that I freeze. And no not the freeze I’m experiencing now… The emotional freeze. the freeze I’m experiencing now could be turned around if a, I wasn’t to tight to turn the heater on, b, I had someone to hug or c, I lived in the sahara.

It breaks my heart to hear that some guys feel like this. Because what they fail to realize is that it’s prob those women who make them feel like this are the loneliest. Coz no one has the courage to grow some balls and tall to them. Their sick of making the first move. They want to be swept off their feet at least once. They want to once feel like a woman and a little girl at the same time. Boys speak up, becuase if you don’t, someone will. And she’ll be take that chance. She may feel the same, because to some extent, in te
Mind of Sheldon cooper…. Everything had a balanc… Which means what u feel might be generated from what she’s feeling. She just might be too nervous or terrified to show her tue colours.

Eunuchs of today…. If u take anything from a tv sit com, or from my ridiculous word jumble on this page, or even if your not a eunuch and just an average bloke questioning about some chick…. Take this… The world is full of men, eunuchs, boys and options…. She will be confronted with ‘a pair’ sooner or later… Make it you.

2 years ago / 0 notes
Pillow

I go to bed at night with the day on repeat. I wake up in the morning and leave my dreams on my pillow.

These dreams are not of falling nor are they of the sea. There of what I want and hope for, there what I dream to be

No one kisses me good night. But they call if they need to cry. No one in my life for me.

I wonder someday if that’s my purpose here, to calm their worries, and heal their fear.

One day my friends will smile. And my phone will no longer ring. Ill wake up to my dreams on my pillow.

I wonder if ill lose my way and if god will see my work. And take me from this home where my dreams sometimes lurk.

Will people notice me. Will someone want to love me. Will someone choose me, not because of blood but because they want to?

Tomorrows dreams will stay on my pillow for another day at least, maybe someone will remember me, when I’m beautiful deceased.

Deceased as in gone, and deceased as in moved. Moved as in local, and local as in love.

I see girls be kissed, I see girls be seen, I hope I am today, and not what could have been.

I hope my dreams don’t stay on my silky satin pillow, I hope I wake up to a face.

I pray someone wont bear to see me walk away. Will fight for me rise and will kiss my cheek at night

Will love me when I’m me, and love me when we fight.

A remedy to a broken heart is not another start. it’s an action before the words. it’s a player before the game. it’s a beginning before the dream. it’s a gift, before its seen. it’s a night before the day it’s a invite before you stay. it’s a dream before the night. Its comfort before the light. it’s the feeling that starts so raw, that forgives all your wounds from the battles you fought before.

2 years ago / 0 notes
my relationship theory

What brings you here?  where? right here, where you are sitting right now.

What choices have you made that have led you to the exact role you are playing in this world today. Who are you to certain people or organisations?  are ally our relationships equal?

I don’t want to rant and rave on to long about questions that seriously circle my mind every day, but i want you to understand what I’m trying to get at. 

I’m not sure if most people think like this or if its just a select few god has chosen to be so annoyingly questionable on anything and everything. Funny enough, i’m one of those people. so sincere apolagies. but then again, you choose to read.

whats your view on relationships? not just romantic relationships, ( coz i’m no expert in those) but relationships in general? do you just wing it, or is there a certain degree of giving and receiving in order to balance it out? 

Ive come to my own conclusion that there is a formula. I’m no scientist that specialises in human emotions and the chemical reactions one embraces when another is around, but I think im on the money with this one. 

in order for a relationship to work, one must meet with another equally to some extent in the balance of Love respect and trust.  don’t get ahead of me and start saying, that’s impossible , no one can meet equally on all three in every exact moment of time. But that’s my point exactly. I like to think of it like the theory of karma. If you do something bad to another, the universe wont necessary return the evil instantly. your time will come. you will pay your dues, sooner or later down the track. 

My theory is similar. except its controlled by a natural urge or compulsion within each of us to want to return the favour. the favour may not be of a physical gesture, but more of a emotional one. for example, if you had an ex, that was so deeply in love with you, but your just don’t feel the same, the love is not balanced. your not willing to give the same amount of love back. not by choice, but by unknown natural sources. you still may trust and respect them on equal levels, but the relationship wont fully work, without the formula complete. 

Another example is, say one is going through a rough time. They may be so emotionally drained and drawn out, that they jsut dont have it in them to even love themselves, or anytone else in that matter. but there partner or friend or whoever it is, might. They may understand what your going through, and feel they have to power to support you. they will supply this broken person with as much love as they can in order to fulfil there emotions to level of which they can mentally and emotionally function correctly. 

this hurting person may not be able to replay them then and there, but sometime down the track due to there natural urge to balance it out on all three states of the relationship, they will. If something is supposed to work, it will. so stop fighting for friends or partners that just don’t love you, trust you or respect fully to the level that you do to them. there is nothing wrong with this, in fact  the sooner you accept it, the sooner your life will start moving forward. 

Do you see what i’m trying to get at. life is about balance. 

I thought about this a lot a long time ago, and came up with this theory when I literally had all three levels stripped from me and burned. It only recently came back into my mind when I realised I found myself wanting to do certain things for certain people, when I feel they are at a weak point. I have this natural compulsion to rejuvinate them some way. I may not succeed, and I’ not sure It will be balanced, but It’s worth the risk for me. I’d rather test this theory on these certain few then not know at all. In fact I’m not sure if i had the choice about it. My instinct and heart is leading every action and word. 

if you see an old couple still together after 60 years and still happy in love, they meet each other equally on love trust and respect. sure, might have been arguments and disagrements, but the love respect and trust never went away. they balanced it out. somewhere along the track. but you find yourself constantly fighting to keep something alive beucase, she wont listen to you, he wont do this they aren’t doing that, then maybe the formula is broken. By natural forces. 

This is why if you do develop feelings or what not for someone, there is no need to hide it. the other person may feel the same but the love part in there heart may be bruised. or the respect may have been vandalised. so speak up, give, surprise, and try. bring them back to life. make them whole again. don’t beat yourself up if in the end, it doesn’t work out, because if accepted by both parties, both will walk aways having been rebuilt and stronger then they once were. 

if you cant trust your BF in a group of good looking girls, or if you cant respect your GF beacuse she does something you don’t like, or if your Best mate just doesn’t listen to u when you really need and ear….apply my theory and think about whats important to you… 

If your constantly not been balanced out and you just know, you never will. admit that to yourself. But if you have the opportunity to find that balance with someone. go for it.

2 years ago / 0 notes

I hope that you notice one of these days, exactly what I’m Trying to say Ive earn’t my time to be heard this time and I won’t let this one slip Away I’ve been frightened before I’ve hid my vows and I burnt my Memory dead New start new day I’ll Make sure u hear everything I’ve said I won’t hide my scars but I want to see yours …. I won’t be seen everyday but Im right here for you Do you hear what I’m trying to say through what i do? Do you see I’m waiting for you to start something New If u want me to walk, I’ll Walk away with pride but if u want me to stay ill promise to stay I’ve never had anyone stay for Me before so All I can do Is pray I don’t care who sees I don’t mind who hears like all the singers sing I’m in this for me .. I’m in this for you .. my hearts on the table I’ve got nothing else to bring

2 years ago / 0 notes
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