Who am I, really? (a poem + essay [somewhat] figuring out what makes me, me)

I don’t think we realise the imprint of a name,
They tattoo our brains, how inked skin stains
As we write labels for the sum of our parts.
My name does not define me because
It will never describe me, but
To you it identifies me, and
Everything I am within my name
Is for you to decide without me.

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The making of a mess – A poem

We often forget to watch when dust and grime accumulates,
Collects under our nails, forms a film over our skin,
Nests in the fibres of our carpet, settles on outsides and within.
It’s a slow assembly of a compilation of the messes
We abandoned instead of disentangling.
We listen to music through knotted headphones
And instead of taking time to unravel the wires,
We learn to live with the discomfort.

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How to remember your life – A poem

Music holds more memories than we remember
A melody is nostalgia and a photo album of sounds
I remember my life through the lyrics that touched me and
The songs connected to people
And days and nights
And moments
Some sounds touch the heart
And remind me of feelings I can feel I once felt
But don’t remember

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The perils of a mind’s imitations of life – A poem

I have not yet learned to notice
How time jumps
Or how the clocks don’t tick

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Used to – A Poem

I got used to the way
The wind in the chimneys
Sounded like ghosts.
You get used to all the things
That scare you
Disappoint you
Hurt you
When they’ve happened
So many times
Yet got no further than
The fright
The disappointment
The pain.

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Mind of its own – A poem

Sometimes I think
My thoughts
Are also thinking.
Like thoughts inside thoughts.

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The life of an ambivert

An ambivert is someone who is neither an introvert nor an extrovert, but somewhere in between. Instead of having a battery that is recharged solely by either social interaction or alone time, it can really depend on the person and the situation. For me, I have more like a double ended battery. I think that’s the best way to describe it.

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The people who complete you.

Journal entry | 31/01/2018 | 8:28pm I think life is really about finding the people who complete you. You can think that you can be happy completely on your own, and you can, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be happier. Humans are made for social interaction. We aren’t made to be solitary creatures. We…

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Out of place – a short film.

I made a little film featuring some photos I took and some thoughts from today. Here’s the link to the video:   https://youtu.be/JgpWJ7VyMg8   And here are some photos featured:    

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There was something, and this was it. – A poem

I’m stuck In the nagging nudges Of the night As they pace in the dark And tell me to write. But tonight Nothing seems right. I feel no urge For scribbles Under flashlight. I feel the time ticking As the night’s nags Are tickling The underneath of my feet. I haven’t tried to sleep Because…

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