Pride.

Don't be fooled by the colour of my skin,

I have seen and felt mankinds worst of sins.

Hate does not belong to a colour, religion or race,

seldom does the receiver ever recognise his or her face.

The way I was born has created so much hate and fear,

to walk with pride is something I now hold true, honest and dear.

I shuddered, cried and cleansed my wounds for all to see,

When do I get my day, the one I can say that I am truly free.

Those books that preach the rules for all those that follow,

How much more of this do we need to endure and swallow?

Why is peace, respect and equality afforded to those that conform,

I am never, nor will I ever be, what you consider to be the standard or norm.

Debates on my life and my rights are aired daily for all to discuss and see,

Again, I ask the simplest of questions, when will I be allowed to simply just be?

Masculinity, what is it?

Never a man enough for you,
Unsure of how to act or what to do.

You turned your back and lied to me,
Leaving me alone, scared and unable to see.

The difference you loathed and feared so much,
Was the thing that would eventually become my crutch.

Be a man you would yell and always say,
Don't show them you're a faggot, poofter or even gay.

Closed eyes, not wanting to see who I truly am,
Instead criticizing me, pushing me away from our clan.

Punched, kicked and beaten to my very core,
It seemed through all this, you disowned me more and more.

I needed you, your words, your guidance, your love,
Not a day went by that I wished god would take me to the safety above.

Masculinity, who or what does it even truly mean?
I have seen an ideal; boring, baseless, almost like a smokescreen.

Those that have have had a supportive Father walk with pride,
Those like me, that have gone without, simply learnt how to cower and hide.

To be a man means more than being macho, big and grand,
It's loving those around you, being honest and always taking a stand.

Masculinity, what is it?

Menina.

Eyes full of pain upon a face that has barely lived,
No one notices you, no one cares who you are or what you have to give.

Staring at the people in front of you, the ones you so long to be,
You stare so hard, with so much passion, but you my darling, they will never see.

They laugh at you now, make fun of you and always push you away,
It won't be long now, before this is just a memory of yet another horrible day.

Youth is wasted on those that know no better or with whom have little care,
Never listen to the negativity, remember what I told you: walk with pride, walk with flare.

You are beautiful menina.

Mother.

You were just a child when you had me,
A girl, not yet a woman, and now with a baby.

Alone, unsure and now raising two,
If anyone was going to succeed, it was surely to be you.

I never understood the struggles you faced,
Each and everyday seemed like a brand new race.

Your temper as fierce as your beauty,
Nothing could stop you and your enduring sense of duty.

I tried and tested you until the very end,
Yet through it all, you are my one true friend.

My hero, my inspiration and all that I love,
Those that have passed, watch with pride up above.

You are the one I call Mother,
The only one I have, unlike any other.

Then, I saw you.

I saw you, ethereal and dressed in white,

Watching me as I rest, only just last night.

At first I was scared and thought it to be a dream,

You reassured me that everything was just as it may seem.

You took me to a place full of people crying and in sorrow,

When I asked what this meant, you told me I will understand all tomorrow.

As clear as you presented yourself to me,

The events that followed would be put down in history.

I spoke of what I saw and knew, something I shouldn't have done,

You warned me that people would laugh at me, thinking I was nothing more than dumb.

It was good to see you, to feel your hand on mine,

Something I had been longing for, something that always kept me in line.

I wish I could see you just one more time,

to tell you I love you and that I'm doing just fine.

Maybe I'll get one more chance just to say hi,

But for now my love, I must painfully say goodbye.

Death.

Death.

For some it is the end of one journey and the commencement of another.

A sigh of relief for some. No more pain, uncertainty or the need to fight.

Fear for many, something that is taught by the books from a young age.

Tears for those left behind. Memories of moments shared, laughter that made your belly hurt and the joy of love, friendship or just being in their presence.

Sadness, coupled with a smile, a shudder of disbelief and the reality of a new chapter that begins now.

The urgency to make every moment count, that as we take that last breath, it is those very memories that will carry us all through to wherever or whenever we may meet again.

For all, a reminder that we are all mortal. That every single second matters.

Death, a place to rest.

(My) Queen at 90: A post of appreciation.

For many people it is hard to understand how someone like me could respect and adore a person who was born into a life of luxury and privilege. Or maybe not. For the entirety of my life, 40 years to be precise, I have lived as a subject of Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II. I am also Australian, a country that requires a journey of some 24 hours or so by plane to a (United) Kingdom that is ruled by Her Majesty, The Queen. In fact, if truth be told, I have only stepped foot on the ground of her beloved (United) Kingdom, twice in my life. Yet Her Majesty has stepped foot on Australia's land a total of 16 times over her illustrious reign.

There hasn't been a time in my life when at some point or another The Queen has come up as a topic of conversation, been on the TV or a magazine cover, or simply been right in front of my eyes via a coin, stamp or even a picture on the wall looking down at me as I listened to my teacher attempt to teach his or her class. It seems like a lifetime ago that as a child, when the national anthem played we all had to stand up and face that very picture as we sang. For so many years, and before the age of communication, The Queen in that picture seemed like a fairytale, someone that was beyond this earth, whimsical even. She still is.

Today sees Her Majesty mark yet another milestone in a life that has seen it's fair share of the good and the bad, and everything else in between. Today she celebrates 90 years of age and also the fact that she is the oldest living Monarch in the world, something that many would associate with a sedentary lifestyle, the complete opposite where Her Majesty is concerned. It is this and many other traits that I truly admire about The Queen, she just never stops, never gives into a dramatic outburst and for as long as I can remember, has stayed completely focused on just what it is she believes she was meant to do: serve her people.

I know that for many, they will not understand how I could possibly respect a woman who is part of an age old institution that's based purely on birth right, something that in my opinion is not only exclusive to royalty in this day and age. I look at the strength and stability that she has brought to her family and many nations in their time of grief, misunderstanding and even political uprising. She never gives her political opinion and yet always ensures that her presence is felt. She is a constitutional monarch and not absolute, she pays taxes and and against her will, her life and all it's belongings are there for public consumption, criticism and more often than not, scrutiny. Through all this, never once has she ever publicly complained, instead, she has gotten on with "the job at hand", being The Queen.

Today is a day that Her Majesty, The Queen should revel in, a day well earned, well lived and well deserved. Happy, happy Birthday and may there be many more.

Long live The Queen!


For more information on Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II:

https://www.royal.uk/search/her-majesty-the-queen

The History Of Tomorrow.

I remember as a child listening to my Mum scold me for procrastinating, something I truly believed I never did. Hindsight, along with a clear memory has allowed me to see that my Mum was entirely correct with her scoldings, scoldings of this type that were always accompanied with the line: “Tomorrow never comes”. German pragmatism at its finest.

As life would have it, procrastinating would not only become something I detested in others, but it would also be sent to try me via various work colleagues and every now and again, someone that I was dating. I too found myself echoing that very line that used to see me rolling my eyes in contempt at my Mother, the very person who in her own unique way, seemed to live for the hope that tomorrow may bring.

Tomorrow, like many other people and situations in my life, never came. My history was what I was creating today and was heavily influenced by my past and those that had trodden its well worn path, but what of the history of tomorrow? Surely my dreams lie there too, they must go there sometimes, right? Tomorrow became not only that forbidden place my Mum spoke about as a child, a place that only lazy or deluded people seemed to go to, but now it had become my sanctuary of sorts. A place where I could safely park my dreams for a while.

Things became clearer to me as the years passed, faces easier to read and words easier to decipher from fact or fiction. My histories started to become examples for those with lesser years than I, and conversations were not so much about the dreams I was hoping to see come to fruition, but rather those that had. Yesterday left me evaluating, today has me planning, but the history of tomorrow had become the place that those now sacred and far fewer dreams sought for comfort and nurture.

The history of tomorrow, a place that might just be.

Sozinho.

There is a massive difference between being alone and feeling lonely. Sure, they conjure up images of the same sort of thing, but sitting here at my desk in one of the largest cities in the world, surrounded by people, voices, music and sirens, I can't help but feel lonely.

During a recent conversation the other day, I realised that I have always felt lonely, maybe even alone, for the greater part of my life. I guess this could easily be one of those moments of self pity for the "poor little gay boy". It's not. Reality is though, unlike religion, race, culture or even national identity, being gay is something that you need to hide until you gain the courage to "come out" to everyone, and then the guilt sets in. Not about you, but about all those you have somehow "hurt" with this revelation. And so that lonely journey continues in the hope to find your "people", your place of acceptance. If only it were that easy, if only.

My loneliness seemed to become more heightened when I so called, "discovered" my people. I found myself in the middle of drugs, partying, sex and a need to supposedly show the world who I REALLY am. I didn't like it at all. There were the labels, labels for clothes that needed to be worn, labels for certain friends and of course the label for YOU. Think, Bear, Active, Passive, Muscle, Twink, it seemed to never end and to say I was confused, well, if I thought my sexuality had confused me, this was like being thrown into the spinning cycle of all confusion. How did a good (and somewhat religious) boy from a small Australian city with strong morals, overcome this life of debauchery? I did. We all did.

But the loneliness remained.

Many years later and on another continent, I came to learn of a word in Portuguese that means both alone and lonely, Sozinho. This word seems to roll so effortlessly off my lips and for some reason makes me think of taking nap, a Sozinho if you like. It is also a word that I learnt early on in my time in Brazil, a word that would come to embody exactly how I was and am feeling on more than the odd occasion. A word that sadly, seems to be all to common these days in the age of communication and all things social media. A word that is all to often glossed over by fake smiles, poses and über important status updates reminding the world on how "truly" happy, blessed and grateful you are. Connected, and yet disconnected beyond belief.

Like all things in life, we learn to adjust and adapt to situations, people and relationships. I guess that loneliness can also be one of these things that needs adaption, maybe it's just a state of mind. Maybe there is so much emphasis placed on finding "the one", or being apart of a group that in reality, a bit of alone time is just what everyone needs? Either way, as time goes on and I learn, I am slowly starting to see that my "loneliness" may in fact be my destiny and that turning it into being alone and content with myself, could possibly be the greatest lesson I have learnt. In fact I know it is.

Sozinho, não solitário.

It's been a while.

"It's been a while", a phrase that has kept on popping up over the last few weeks. A phrase that I guess can go either way, positive or negative. I have felt both of late.

Yesterday marked what would have been my first partner's 49th birthday, something that he sadly was not afforded due to Cancer and a life taken way to soon, a story shared by many around the world. Lying on my bed, severely hungover from the night before antics, I found myself looking up above at the stark white ceiling of my room and uttering the words "It's been a while", ten years this August in fact. It was this remembrance of what seems like another life time now, that got me thinking just how many times I have used this phrase of late.

A message from an old lover who disappeared out of my life and was never to be seen or heard from for a year, decided to respond to one of my many messages I had sent him. A response that was honest, over due and finally in front of my eyes to read. It brought a smile to my face, a tear or two to my eyes and gave me some sort of peace in my heart. But all the time I was reading it and to be honest, for some weeks now after receiving it, I have found myself again uttering those very words: "It's been a while".

Then there's family, the core of my very existence and the people that have shaped me, supported me, loved me and always keep it real with me. My mother, whom I adore in every sense of the word, went in for a rather simple operation a couple of weeks ago and ended up nearly losing her life. No matter the age or health of someone, the possibility and actuality that death was near or has finally arrived, will never ever be a fact that can be dealt with in a rational manner. "It's been a while", in fact far too long pounded my head for well over a week after this incident.

New people coming in and out of my life are a common occurrence in a grand metropolis like São Paulo, Brazilians from other states and people from around the world all leave their mark on you and your experiences on the daily. Many a conversation is had and time and time again I keep hearing in various forms and languages, "do things for yourself and not others. Love yourself first." Words that I am so happy to share with others and yet strangely don't really listen to or even adhere to when I am the one in need of them. Maybe it's time I started listening to these words more, I can definitely say "It's been a while."

You.

You held me,

You kissed me,

You fucked me,

You loved me.

You tore me,

You scared me,

You lied to me,

You hurt me.

You left me,

You barred me,

You forgot me,

I still loved you.

Nothing.

One year passed,

You said sorry,

I have peace now,

Thank YOU.

Marriage Equality has arrived - In the US.

Lets hope it lasts.

I am sorry, I need a hot minute to absorb this. Ok, I need more than a hot minute, I need a hot hour.

Just now via my darling friend Sharla and the never ending stream of tweets from tweeters like Same.Same, BET, People Magazine and GQ, yes, even GQ is onboard with this, I now am to believe that marriage is something that will be afforded to the LGBT community. Is this shit for real?

Let me explain why I am having a hard time believing this will stick. I am happy, happier than most, as my dream has always been to get married to the one I love, the rest of world told me that the one I loved needed to have a vagina, I preferred the penis option. I digress. I had heard from the get go how wrong being gay was, that is was disgusting, perverted and more often than not likened to the worst kind of being I could have ever imagined being. As you can imagine, coming was going to be super easy with all this behind me. NOT.

Like the majority of my gay, lesbian and transgendered brothers and sisters, I came out and not to the roaring crowds full of appreciation that you may see at a Pride parade around the world, more a solemn "Are you sure?" and "OK, if that's what you want", coupled with silence and long periods at the beginning of this "coming out process" of not really talking to my family. Some of it was them not understanding me and a whole lot of it was me feeling that I had somehow brought shame upon my family, that I had let them down and ultimately, let myself down. Luckily that shit passed and things are a lot better, not perfect, but better.

I was saying to my friend Sharla that she needed to remember something, that she was speaking to a gay guy who is nearly 40 years old, who, and let's be brutally honest here, has very rarely seen or heard positive things about the community that I am meant to belong too, except from those close to me, like said (and wonderful at that) friend. I have grown up listening to people preaching from every corner of the  globe how disgusting I am meant to be, perverted, diseased and living "that" disgusting lifestyle is a choice. How I do not deserve the right of the law and very often, how these "people", my people, should be stopped with their "agenda", even eradicated from society and the earth we all share. Yes, even in 2015 this still exists, you just needle to google gay to see what comes up, or even better, ask one of your gay/lesbian/transgendered friends on their experiences in life, you'll be surprised and more often than not, deeply saddened. Violence, murder and suicide are still all to common amongst the LGBT community and hopefully this changing of laws will allow peoples fears and misconceptions to slowly dissipate.

So, whilst I am over the moon, ecstatic even, that my brothers and sisters in the US will now be seen as equals in the eyes of the law, I need a minute to process that I too may be seen as YOUR equal in the eyes of the law one day. That this may in fact be my reality, now, tomorrow and in my future. That eventually it will NOT be referred to as "Gay marriage" but rather, simply "marriage". That as a global society we will start to look at love as truly that, LOVE. That we will not associate the negative with being gay and that as humans, consenting adults, we all have the right to share a life with someone that we love, no matter what their gender, colour or religion may be. Just love.

It's taken me just over 30 minutes to write this and yes, it has finally sunk in.

What a day - June 26th, 2015.

For more information on Marriage Equality:

http://www.marriageequality.org

Trust Yourself.

Always.

Its really hard to understand each other sometimes, especially when different cultures are involved. I have learnt so much over these last couple of years, none more so than the time I have spent in Brazil.

I have trusted, I have loved and many times I have lost, lost my heart, lost my friendships and yes, lost my love. I wish there was something that I could have done to change these things as the loss of someone that you gave your heart and friendship to is one of the hardest losses we face in life.

Emotions run wild and whilst I don't believe in regret, I do believe in self evaluation, reflection, the ability to say "If I had my time again, maybe I would have done things differently.." I am man enough to say yes, I would have done things differently. I would have been less needy. I would have said no. I would have loved myself more. I would have said goodbye earlier.

But I didn't. That's ok too, life is about learning, right? About the ability to stand in front of the mirror and promise yourself that those mistakes will never be repeated. Never. I believed in love, I really believed in it. Man, I flew across the world to be with the one I loved, I thought he loved me too, he didn't, he thought he did, but I know he didn't. I'm not angry, I am sad though, to think that these relationships we cherish so much, we work so hard for, we love almost as much as family, can disappear in a split second. Everything is forgotten, love becomes disdain, fond memories are now more painful than anything else. Yet through it all that person or those people are still so missed.

We are human, all of us. Our experiences are different and yet so shared, common even. We laugh, we cry, we fight, we make love and we all yearn for that special someone to enter our lives and change it all. We trivialise the things that were once so important us, photos are destroyed and our hearts are broken. Why?

Fear. Love. Solitude. Sex. Insecurity. Emotions. You. Me. Us.

Although the winds change the seasons, our lips no longer connect and words and laughter no longer share our moments together, you are all in my heart and my memories.

Always.

Judgement - it's not so black & white.

A lot of people ask me why I associate myself so much with black music, culture, and of course my "Queens", especially as the exterior I was given is so pale. A question that is sometimes hurled at me with disdain and an all to often questioned beyond belief.

It's a hard thing to articulate in just a few words, especially if you have never been the subject of people constantly trying to bring you down, separate you, hate you, in some cases eradicate you and all to often, dominate you. I am not saying that the race debate and the homosexuality debate go hand in hand 100%, but for me, there is some solidarity in the struggles we have faced and sadly, continue to face.

This was brought into question with me the other day when I spoke with a gay man here who was severely beaten in an all to often occurrence in Brazil, "Gay hate crimes". When he went to the police, he was laughed at and told "he was lucky to be alive" and "to get out of the station". On further investigation of the laws in Brazil, there appears to be NO law(s) that protect the rights of gay, lesbian and transgendered people here. The subject of gay hate crimes is not isolated and I am pretty sure most if not all gay people will have experienced this at some point in their lives, me included. I have been in many situations in "tolerant" São Paulo, where I have witnessed effeminate gay men being called names on trains, many times other passengers laughing along at the mockery of these people. Not one person in the myriad of incidences I have witnessed here has stood up to those people. Before you even think it, YES I DID. 

I am questioned as to why I look to role models like Oprah Winfrey, Maya Angelou, Nelson Mandela, Nina Simone etc. It's simple. These people lived with hate, A LOT of hate, suppression, violence, injustices and constant degradation of something they had no control over, the beautiful colours of their skins, their culture, and ultimately, themselves. Now, there will be some that are opposed to comparisons that I have dared to draw here, of course, they will be people that have never walked a day in my shoes, this I can guarantee. I am not saying and NEVER would say that I know what it is like to walk in the shoes of some of my role models I have mentioned above, even my friends that I so dearly cherish, because we all have a different journey. A journey that if you think about it, really does lead us to the same destination in the end, no matter what you do or don't believe in, who you love or even the colour of your skin.

Loving someone of the same gender is NOT a choice, you don't wake up one day and say "Hmmmm... Guys or girls today?" and anyone who thinks that really needs to try and live life as a gay person and get back to me. The sacrifices we face on the daily whether it be via acceptance from family, friends etc or even the danger that is all to apparent, is something I would not wish on my worst enemy. Don't even bring the cultural or religious argument into this either, the death penalty still exists for homosexuals in 10 countries and the "act" is illegal in a staggering 77 countries. I am not apart of a lifestyle choice, I am not doing this for attention, I am not perverted and I most certainly AM A CHILD OF GOD (Whatever or whomever he or she may be) and THIS UNIVERSE. 

My point is, at the end of the day we are all just the same, it's only our experiences that ultimately give us some difference and even those are what bring people together, and of course our own inabilities to view others as our equals. I see colour as just that, something beautiful and different, no matter whether it be white, brown, black, golden or red. The same goes for love. It's something we are all entitled to, right? Love? Isn't that what is preached to us via our religious mentors, our family life, the TVs and movies we watch, the music we listen too, don't we all just want to be loved?

I met some ladies the other night that truly inspired me to write this, to think deep about this subject and go beyond all the stereotypical associations I have become accustomed to, to get real with me and you know what I found? L.O.V.E. Yep, pure, plain and simple, love.

Be kind to each other friends, stand strong in what you believe in and always make your words and actions count. 

Always.

That word.

That word is so strong. It can be so hurtful and so,so comforting. It incites the strongest of fears in many and in times of frustration, doubt and need, it can be the strongest word we will ever use.

It is said in joy. It is said with disdain. But one thing is for sure, no matter how it is said you will never forget they way you felt and for this, it will always, always remain the same.

When describing those four letters and what it means to you, many speak with tones of high, many with echoes of sadness in their speech, and then there are those that have never known just exactly what this word truly means.

However it is said, those four letters will change your life whether you accept this or not, sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worst. One thing is for sure though, without them the world would be a very different place, good, bad, indifferent or undecided, those letters shape us all.

Love.

Bruce Jenner - Made This Way.

Bruce & Diane.

Just watched the Bruce Jenner interview with Diane Sawyer, WOW.

The courage and strength that (s)he has had to find is beyond belief. It really does echo what I wrote a few days ago via this blog in regards to understanding the fabric of ones soul. The fact that (certain) people feel that it is their right to "out" and "vilify" him only exemplifies the society we live in, one where we think we are so accepting, but in reality we just want the prime seats for the "freak show".

I have witnessed violence and verbal slaying towards transgendered people here in Brazil, and of course towards myself and other gay and lesbian people more times than I can remember, "it comes with the territory" is what I had told myself for the majority of my life. Not any more. Why should people have to live with these heinous acts towards other human beings based on their gender or sexual identity ( I don't use preference as it's not a "preference" or "choice", its how I was made) we have laws now in most countries that protect the rights of women, race and even religious freedom, why not for everyone? Is it a crime to assume the correct gender? Is it a crime to love another consenting adult? No and No. So why then as a society do we spew so much vitriol towards certain members of our communities the world over and for no apparent reason?

Fear and ignorance. There will be a day that society's sometimes narrow mind starts to broaden even more, history has already shown us this broadening of acceptance with the changes in attitudes towards to race, religion and the rights of women, but we still have a long way to go. Next time you see a gay couple holding hands or a transgendered person, take time to remember that they are exactly like you, individuals living their life the only way they know how, as themselves.

For more information on Transgender issues:

http://www.transgendercare.com/guidance/index.htm

The fabric of my soul.

J

Fabrication meets Realisation.

The fabric of my soul is something that I never truly realised or understood until I was well into my 30's. I had heard about this concoction of so called "fabrics", things that made the very essence of who I am, but I guess like most people of my age, I had never really given much thought to what it is that made me, me. Until now.

From as far back as I can remember I had been told how to behave and what not to do. Very rarely was I allowed to just be me. I did many things back in the day that were not the "norm", things that many times made my Father cringe and truly wonder just what he had help create. I loved to sing and at any given chance I would beg and plead for my family to watch me climb on top of our multi coloured leather poof, hit the play button on the tape deck and sing at the top of my lungs to Dolly, Diana, La Belle and any other diva that I had been blessed with listening to from such a young age. Oh yeah, there were dance moves too, boy did I love to move, still do. You can imagine the disdain I was met with, especially from my Father, to be honest, it seemed much more like shame.

I don't blame anyone for how they reacted, after all we are somewhat the product of our upbringing and the society that surrounds us. Sadly though, that shame has stayed with me for the majority of my life, a shame that has clouded my direction and understanding of just who it is I am and what my purpose is. Don't get it twisted here though, I am not blaming my family for this, I am not even blaming society for this, I am purely writing out loud and trying to understand just why it is we allow these forms of shame, disdain and self loathing to affect us to the point that it destroys those very fabrics that are woven together to create something so unique. A question I am sure many the world over ask themselves, then shelf it because it can just be to damn painful to explore.

Exploration has been something that I have been forced into, whether I have wanted to or not. I guess it comes with the territory of being gay, your life is decided and ousted by others well before you even have a chance to address or understand it yourself. Fact. Given this, I guess that is why the statistics of suicide within the gay community are that much higher than others, we don't even get a chance to inspect the very things we are going through, instead our fabric is taken and put on show for all to see and ogle.

The experiences that we go through in life, the encounters we have, the friends we make and sadly lose, the love that comes to us, sends us into heaven and then comes plummeting back down to earth with an almighty thud, are the very things that help contribute to that fabric and ultimately, the bigger picture that we know as our life. We are challenged and relieved, loved and hurt, befriended and then unfriended, but through it all we are the sum of all of our experiences. There is not one day that passes that I am not grateful for all of these experiences and more, without them I would not now begin to understand just what it is that makes up the fabric of my soul.

"Embrace the glorious mess that you are" - Elizabeth Gilbert

The sadness in your smile.

There is a sadness in your eyes the belies that beautiful smile, a smile that could light a million candles in one swift swoop. Where does the sadness come from? You seem to love life, people clamour to be around you and laughter fills the air wherever your presence is shared, but that sadness glares at me when I look into your eyes.

If I told I love you would it make it better? Would the sadness disappear? I tell you everyday I love you though, I just don't get it. You are beautiful and unique, everyone tells you, I just wish you could see it. Feel it. Believe it. How did you get to this place of despair and loss? Something like this doesn't just "happen", it happens over many years and through many situations. Please talk to me, you'll feel better.

Take a walk, breathe in the fresh air and watch people as they go about their daily duties. It will take your mind off things, off of your sadness, off of you. What did you say? "Behind my smile is everything you'll never understand." Try me, I have lived too, I mean, I am looking right at you, I'm here, let me understand.

Fine. Don't answer me, don't take my advice or help, it's your life. Whatever. I keep trying to tell you that you are loved, that I love you, but you just don't hear it or maybe you refuse to hear it. Are you that damaged or are you just simply oblivious to what it is that you bring to this world, this sadness or whatever it is, is destroying all the goodness in your life. You have to stop this. Please stop this. Please. It is breaking my heart.

Reflections are the hardest thing to see sometimes.

The goodbye.

Exit, this way --->

Urrrggghhh. I hate this feeling, you know the one, the unrelenting, imminent approach of what seemingly feels like it will never truly arrive, the "goodbye". Why can't we just be clear and concise, almost with a stiff upper lip if you like. "Thank you very much, I have had a wonderful time, but I really must go." It'd be so much easier and very polite. I know why. Because we are human and humans have those crazy little (and sometimes SUPER big) things called emotions. Cue Mariah and "Emotions."

The fact that I have been pacing my room, all 2 meters of it, for the better part of the day is not only annoying but a preventative from me doing pretty much anything (that, or I have found the pen ultimate excuse - you decide). Urrrrggghhh. Again. Sometimes I wonder if people really are cut out for the modern day relationship ideal that we all seem to crave and want to be apart of. Why? It seems to not only be a never ending slew of failures for me, but something that is starting to appear to be more elusive than, well, love.

I guess that age is a defining decision with relationships as you get older. Not the physical numbers themselves, but rather the experiences that those years have or haven't afforded you, something that is totally and utterly out of your control, it just is. But hey, that's cool too, we all have a path or paths to follow and each and every one's story is unique and brings us to the place(s) that we are meant to be at or in at exactly the right time, no matter that they be negative or positive experiences, the key word to remember here is "experience". It makes us wiser, emotionally richer, aware and hopefully more understanding couples with lots and lots of compassion. I said "hopefully".

The loss of someone that you love, whether it be physically from this world or just physically from your  day to day life, hurts, it hurts like a nail being rammed repeatedly into your heart. But we need to go through it. We need to feel that sense of loss and take time to reflect on what it is that was lost, a relationship, a friend, a lover, love. Next time it'll be better, it'll be different, I'll be different, that's what everyone says, me included. The fact is, we should have been different when it mattered, now it's too late.

How does that saying about hindsight go?

"Hindsight is gained through experience." Says it all really.

Only Human.

I'm scared. I wish I wasn't, but I am.

I don't want to be hurt anymore, I don't want to feel that thing we call heartache, I don't want to be let down. I don't want right now. I want now, tomorrow and whatever future I have, we have. 

I need that. Companionship, trust and of course love. Why is it so hard? I can give it all I've got. Can you? I know I shouldn't ask, I'm a communicator, it's what I do. I'm honest.

I have been hurt so many times, we all have. I've had my trust, faith and hope broken more times than I ever thought possible. Why? Why tell someone you love them and then hurt them? Is it fear? Selfishness or just plain cold hearted? I guess we will never truly know.

Please don't hurt me. Don't hurt anyone for that matter, including yourself. 

After all, we are only human..