My Nature is to Thunder On

How sad it feels in this moment.


Everyone is so happy that things will remain the same while I long for change.


My pace slows as I mourn the loss of opportunity, I knew in my heart they would always say no.


I am the water and they are the dam, I am forced to trickle through.


My nature is to thunder on so I wait at the top gathering strength.


Soon I will crash through rock, I will break down stone


And I will continue on my course, changing everything.

They Long to Burn

I have such fire in me.
It makes my skin tingle.
I know they can feel it
And they long to burn.
Yet they would smother it
And I would become ash.
I try to control the flames
But they are not mine
And my gentle heart is no match.
So I dance with them
And I try to use their power
But to what end?

An Awakening

Vhairi Slaven

A sleepless night, submerged by black thoughts and dreams that churned around my head leaving my eyes as dark as the nightmares.  Strange, grotesque visions of innumerable sets of eyes staring at me in my sleep echoed in my mind; the aftermath of several nights spent dulling my mind with wine.   I had asked my trouble doll before I slept for a change of mood in the morning, to wake up in the light, but I think she must have slept in longer than I did.

I fed my weary body, put my trainers on and ventured outside, up into the Carrick hills.  It was the only thing I knew that would help to bring me back.

Within minutes, the town and my room with all its appliances and reminders of ordinary life is behind me and all I can see are hills, forests, bushes, trees and animals.  I leave…

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Words do not actually EXIST

Do you ever feel like you are carrying the weight of the world in TEARS that hang in the bags under your eyes?
Like the SKIN on your face is losing the WILL to hold itself up against gravity and at any moment your jaw will DROP to the floor from your head?
I am truly SORRY self, I cannot do you any BETTER right now; I am having difficulty holding my MOUTH up.
I did think this KITTEN would help, but she makes the tears come and then she BITES me.
There is another ME somewhere but I can’t get to her, she is far away in the distance walking by the SEA.


Why would she leave me here on my own? I HATE it when she does that.
The day STARTS with promise and ends with disappointment, yet it is merely me who DOES the disappointing and you see, it all comes BACK.
A fretted edge is the BEGINNING of an unravelling but the composition of the thing whatever it may BE cannot become NOTHING; it can only change into something ELSE and that SHOULD comfort.
I have worked all day relentlessly on EVERYTHING and still I cannot see any real POINT in any of it.
It has occurred to me that it probably does not even MATTER because words do not actually EXIST.

Share Your World – Week 22

Regarding animals would you prefer not having them around or having domestics pets, farm animals, or seeing them in nature or the zoo?

I adore animals and I stay with my sister’s at the moment who has three cats.  I adore them and I love cuddling them and playing with them but they are house cats because of where she stays and I feel sorry for them a lot.  They like to sit and stare out of the window at the birds and two of them would escape out of the window if they could (my favourite, the boy has escaped several times – he gets scared when he gets to the path though and comes back).  I sometimes take him outside in my arms to let him feel the air and smell the world but sister thinks that is not fair on him.  He loves it though.  I guess I just feel that it must be horrible to be confined somewhere and to never get to be outside.  I tend not to go to zoos very often because it upsets me.  Perhaps the animals are not unhappy, but I am quite intuitive and often feel that they are not happy.  I much prefer to see animals in nature.  I would get a cat myself, but only if I was in a place where I could let them out, then it is always their choice to come back and to come inside when they want to.


Are you a collector of anything? 

Probably the only thing I really collect is books.  I would love to have a big library one day.  I especially like really old books and collect them at charity shops.

If you could know the answer to any question, besides “What is the meaning of life?”, what would it be?

Hmmm.  That is definitely the question that preoccupies me the most, but I wonder if it might do something really bad to you if you found out.  So… I think it would be good to know, not the future, but what you are capable of, to be able to see if you could be this or that if you worked really hard at it.  I would like to know what my true potential is.  I mean if I could know that if I did this, that and the next thing I would definitely be successful, it would be easier than every now and again wondering if I am kidding myself on and I really have no talent at all at what I am doing and would truly succeed and be happy if I did something else.  For example if I could know that if I put all of my efforts into photography instead of writing, I would be successful at that or if I knew that if I gave up my job and focused all of my time on writing I would succeed.  I suppose that would take a lot of the challenges of life out, I guess it is just self belief that I struggle with the most like most people.

If you were to treat yourself to the “finer things” what would you treat yourself to? 

I have a couple of weaknesses for the finer things.  One of them is most definitely food and wine and eating out in expensive restaurants (which I cannot afford to do right now).  I could happily go out for dinner every night and always enjoy the most expensive red wine and food.  I also love clothes and fashion and always pick out the most expensive thing in the shop first.  I don’t love those things to the extent where I spend all of my money on them or get into debt for them though – there are other things I prefer to spend my money on – travel and experiences and I would choose to visit another country I hadn’t seen than a designer bag or a glass of champagne and a lobster (although it would be nice to be able to do both).

Bonus question:  What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up?

I am grateful that I achieved some goals.  I finished the first draft of my manuscript and I reached 100 followers on my blog.  I am looking forward to a trip to Edinburgh for a PA Conference and to going for a long walk in my home village and to start editing my manuscript.


The Only Ones Who Are Truly There

Why do artists lay in bed and look to the moon?

Why do they sit on sand and listen to the breath of the ocean?

Or walk in the fields feeling the wind as it blows through the trees?

Why do they sit at the edge of a stream and watch the water shine like glitter?

Why do they sit on a step watching the shining of the stars in the sky?

Or sit in crowds watching people dance through life?

Could they be dreaming and escaping from reality?

Or are they the ones who are truly there, listening to the story of the world and capturing it in a million different ways.


My week as a writer

I took the week off to concentrate on finishing my book and also to see if I could be disciplined enough to actually stick to a routine.  To be honest, its been a little bit emotional even though (and partly because) I have nearly finished my book.

As for the discipline, I did very well, I got up at 7am every morning and went for a run before coming home, having breakfast and sitting down with my vision board in front of me, my music on and a cat on my lap.  I wrote for several hours and have banged out around 15000 words, tied up some lose ends and actually spoken about showing my story to other people.

This conversation induced a mini meltdown.  Actually talking out loud about my story and about who I was going to show the story first made it so real.  I felt a crushing weight of doubt hang over me and I thought to myself: what if the worst happens and people think that my story is absolutely ridiculous, what if they pity me for believing that I could possibly write a book, what if they think I have gone slightly mad, what if the criticise it to such an extent I lose all confidence in my writing and cannot go ahead with trying to get it published, what if all this time and effort has been for nothing.

What I had is stage fright.  I have been writing this story for nearly 2 years.  I have kept going with it because I couldn’t really seem to stop myself. Once I started, I couldn’t stop writing.  I was writing while I was walking, I was writing while I was running, I was writing while I was travelling, I was writing while I was sitting in mundane jobs and I am writing now instead of doing all the normal things people do with their time outside of work (of which the only thing I can really think of Monday to Friday is watching TV).

To be honest I have actually become a bit of a recluse, I am becoming apprehensive about going out, I am so lost in my writing during the day at times that it is difficult for me to emerge again into the world of people and social skills.

My English Teacher once said to me:  “If you could only get what is in your mind onto the page, you would be great”.  I am working on that, but I may be going in the opposite direction.  I can write down what is in my head but I am finding it more difficult to express what I want to say in speech, in conversation.

The truth is, spoken or written, I am afraid now.  I am afraid of showing people that I know my writing.  I am afraid of trying to achieve my dreams and I am afraid of achieving them – what then?  What will I do without this story?  It has been the only thing keeping me going and keeping me grounded these past few months.  I feel that everything is about to change now.  Either things will start happening with the book or I will give up on it and there will be a huge vacuum in my life.

“Feel the fear and do it anyway”, that’s what I keep telling myself.  You have to do the things in life that scare you.  I have jumped out of an aeroplane, I have left behind everything and everyone I know and travelled to the other side of the world on my own: surely this can’t be as frightening of either of those things.  Yet, somehow it is more frightening.  Showing people my writing will be like standing in public naked over and over and over again.  This is the scariest thing I will ever do.  I know that I will go ahead with it anyway and that it will be brave and that I won’t regret it, but right now I feel like I am five years old, vulnerable and unsure of myself.  That’s the way you are supposed to feel though, right?Image

Tonight I Don’t FEEL Like Writing, but I DO

Tonight I don’t feel like writing, but I do, because there is nothing else. I hope that in some way it will give this day meaning.  I have trawled through lists of films on subscription television looking for something that will restore my faith in my own life.  I choose several and change my mind repeatedly until I settle on a film about a man restoring a boat.

It is one of those nights where it all seems to be a pointless repetition.  This night has happened in precisely the same was before only I am wearing a different top and my hair has grown.  Perhaps a glass of wine will give me some kind of pleasure after a hard week’s work but it was not really hard at all, it was just something that I did, and that I will do again and again and again.

Drifting around thrift stores today, the oldest furniture always gives me the most comfort.  Numerous books purchased at three for a pound.  The hope that in one of them will be a clue to all the questions I desperately need answered.  At my temporary home, I lay in bed and am lost for two hours and one hundred pages in a strange novel that makes me laugh out loud at a protagonist as perplexed as I am at the absurdity of it all but who is able to express it with a great deal more wit and a naughty use of CAPITALISATION that excites me.  Awoken from my reverie by a sister with work problems, I forget the book and go downstairs to watch the film.  Surprisingly, in a way I cannot explain, I do find meaning in a shot of water, lights, shadow and a grainy green blue twilight.  Without knowing why, that image makes more sense to me than anything else that has happened today.

I cannot wait to rid the house of people so that I can be lonely, so I drop them off.  When they are gone I feel better.  It is much easier to be alone when there are no people around.  Tomorrow will be better, I know, because it is ok to be alone on a Sunday.  I will be glad I chose not to drown my loneliness in wine to wake up shaking, ill and still alone.  Tomorrow I will be able to say that I had a lovely quiet weekend and I feel much better for it, and I will be so convincing, I will believe it myself.  Even now I feel better because it is late.  It is only in the few hours of a Saturday night when it is still possible to do something that I feel afraid I am wasting my life doing nothing.  However I have not done nothing all day, I have spent all day with a dear friend, shopping in charity stores and having lunch; flirting with the half Italian, half Argentinian waiter with the dark eyes and long eye lashes who smiled at me.  It felt good to be appreciated by a dark man with a foreign accent, but he was too small and too eager.  We ate pizza and ice cream and I got a leather jacket for ten pounds and six books for five.  It really was a nice day, but tonight that does not matter anymore.

I will forgive you for thinking me melancholy or worse, but I do not think I really am, at times I am just really unsure that there is not something I am missing, that I should be doing something other than what I am doing.

Tomorrow I will no longer feel like this.  Tomorrow I will walk in the country and I will look around myself and know I am doing exactly what I should be doing.  However walking for ever in the country is not really an option or I suspect the answer and I cannot just sit at the ocean all day every day staring at the sea and the sky.

Perhaps I could say it feels right when I am writing, but really writing often does not feel like anything.  It as though when I write, I forfeit my experience of time and my awareness of being alive.  Perhaps that is why it feels so right afterwards.  It is like meditating, although I never truly lose myself meditating the way I do when I am writing.

Now that I have written, even just this couple of pages, I no longer feel like my night has been wasted, even if no one ever reads this.  I do not know why that is.  I write a lot these days, really, I do not know what I would do otherwise.  Well maybe I have an idea.  I would perhaps have concentrated on saving money when I got back and went travelling again.  Or, perhaps I would spend the time going out with my friends instead, I could meet some guy who mostly likely will not be the right person at the right time, but I would fall for him anyway because I would find meaning in love.  I would be happy for a time until I realise that there is no meaning in love without meaning in self and unless I am pursuing something creative I will not feel self worth and the poor guy would never be able to fill the gaping hole  no matter how hard he tried and I would have a breakdown and leave, breaking both our hearts. I would realise that this normal life is not for me, travel to the other side of the world on my own searching for meaning and find a story. Wait ……




Share Your World – 2014 Week 13


I will be post four different questions each week for you to answer.  There are two ways which you can participate.

  1. Create a  Share Your World  post.  Then post the link to your blog in my comment box or leave your answers in the comments box of my blog.
  2. To make it easy for others to check out your photos, title your blog post “Share Your World” tag.
  3. Remember to Follow My Blog to get your weekly reminders.

I usually will respond to your entry on your blog, rather than on my page.

Click here for my Share Your World page and for past weeks answers.


Do you believe in extraterrestrials or life on other planets? 

I believe that anything is possible.  Our understanding of the universe is all theoretical, which means there are unlimited possibilities for existence including other living beings on other planets.  Personally I don’t expect to meet any in this lifetime, but life has a way of surprising you.

What type of pet or pets do not want to have?

I love cats, my sister has cats and I adore them.  If I was to have a pet I would have a cat.

If you were a crayon, what color would you be?

My favourite colour is blue, but I wouldn’t be a blue crayon.  There is just something I love about red crayon.  If I was a pencil I would be black and if I was paint I would be midnight blue.

What type of transportation would you be? Why?

What a strange concept!  I can honestly say I have never considered this question before.  If it is metaphorical I would be an electric motorbike.

Bonus question:  What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up

I am grateful for receiving an award on WordPress last week and for all the new followers and comments since.  I am looking forward to spending a day with my dear friend Dot on Saturday looking around second hand stores. I would really love a desk and although I cannot really afford to buy one this month, I am still going to enjoy looking!

Shake it out

I know that meditating is good for me, I try to do it every night and most of the time I succeed, but there is a kind of sadistic urge inside of me not to meditate sometimes, because you kind of like the angry, powerful feelings and thoughts that pulse through you, you like typing out words in a frenzy, you like banging your fists against that bag relentlessly until you fall into a heap, you like putting your music on loud in the car and belting out songs with pure madness, you like getting drunk and dancing like you are on drugs.  At times you need to feel the anger to be able to let it go.