Let me be your river

Needing to vent is only natural. It's the norm. Human nature - before it all builds up and destroys the universe, all you hold dear. All I want to do is express my feelings – to flit and fly between points. Here and there, like the mess of emotions and information in my head. I have to get it all out.

Today I discovered a blog post which describes me perfectly and in minute detail. Well, not me exactly - but a mirror image of how I feel.

After a four month break from blogging (on my main beauty blog) - I still don't feel like I'm able to get back into my usual style of writing without injecting some melancholy in there somewhere and I feel physically unable to put meaningful words together on a page. It all seems to blur into one big black hole of uncertainty and confusion. Much like the rest of my life at the moment. All I want to do is sit and write post after post about bath bombs, make up, recipes for the perfect gingerbread or my usual monthly round up’s! It’s just not there, I can’t do it.

http://www.bloglovin.com/frame?post=606131887&frame_type=a&blog=2044602&link=aHR0cDovL3d3dy5mcm9tZ2Vtd2l0aGxvdmUuY29tLzIwMTIvMTEvdG8tbWFrZS1zZW5zZS1vZi1vbmVzZWxmLmh0bWw

Gemma’s words are beautiful, despite her feelings otherwise. Her words (such as the following) paint a picture of me exactly:

There are times where I switch off completely and go in to my own world, where I think nobody can help me or solve my problems. Then a dark, gloomy cloud stays over my head for a few days until I snap back out of it and see the sunshine again. The only person I really show and share these days with are Dey & now you guys.

I feel as if I haven't achieved enough, or I should of tried harder, made more of an effort with someone...with myself, been more thankful. But most of all I feel I should be more grateful for what I have, but instead I take it for granted. Many people in the world are happier with less than what I have, so why the gloom?

I spend my days off doing absolutely nothing productive, then promise myself that I will with the next one, just to repeat the same damn lazy process. Why am I stuck in a rut, why can't I get out of bed a seize the day, take myself off on a nice walk, take some pictures...do my huge pile of ironing?

When I see beautiful things, I’m momentarily taken back to my happy self. The person who appreciates every piece of beauty and togetherness in the world and truly finds the best in everything. I sometimes see owners walking their dogs early in the morning – the dog looks up at his owner in complete affection. Beautiful. Like there’s no one else in the world who matters but this man, walking him through the park with his coat on. The bond between a human and it’s pet, a pet and it’s owner – unbreakable and special beyond comprehension.

I have the honour of driving past a sunrise across the Wiltshire countryside every weekday morning. I might have to leave the house at 6.30 on a winter’s morning to find it, but it’s there, it’s red/purple/pink/orange/yellow/blue and it’s incredible. After the sunrise is over, I have the pleasure of driving through forest after forest, quaint village after quaint village and past memorable and historical places of interest – I feel that I need to appreciate it more – I feel huge amounts of love for the life I lead on some occasions. This doesn’t happen often enough. I need to know why.

Seeing a squirrel dash across the road along the suspended electrical lines and shooting up to his house in the oak tree. I love that little squirrel. Nature and industrialism merging into one. I couldn’t help but smile at the little squirrel.

I bought a notebook a few months ago. It’s blue leather, handmade and bound with red string. Perfect for me and exactly the book I’d like to hold my life stories and thoughts. I planned to write as often as I could and to buy a new one each year, after filling up the last. Eventually, I’d have a collection. But I’ve written one entry. Just one. Out of the 60 plus days I’ve had. Nothing. And what I have written is trivial, not my true thoughts, just in case anybody finds it, discovers it, reads it without my approval and total control. I need to stop fretting. I need to let myself out and I need my true personality to shine through. If only I could find the words.