Tag Future

Aye, aye, Captain – #SoCS August 27/16

freyathewriter 4 Comments

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“You’re in control of your destiny.”

“You’re the captain of your ship.”

“You’re the only one who can change your life.”

Yada yada yada. Unfortunately, it is (mostly) true. Of course, there are always external forces that can (and often do) limit your ability to make the changes that you’re holding close to your heart (bills, obligations, ability and so on). But they don’t stop you trying, even if the extent of that ‘trying’ merely involves a secret dream, attempting to imagine what your life would be like if you achieved that ‘thing’ that you want.

Oh, but wouldn’t it be wonderful if someone or something else did all the hard work for you?

Or… would it? Isn’t half the joy of achieving your desire looking back at the sheer hard graft you have put in and knowing ‘I did all of that’?

I’m pondering on a number of avenues, in fact, more than pondering, at the moment. I’m dipping a tiny toe in some water and seeing how it feels. It is hard, doing that whilst continuing with all the other parts of life that need to be maintained in the meantime. However, it’s so, so satisfying to see how far I’ve come, in such a short period of time…

 

It’s time for the lovely Linda’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday, where today she invites us to use the prompt you’re, your or yore (all, one or two of them).

My babbling above is a little mysterious, I know, and probably a bit jumbled. That’s how I feel at the minute. Not in a bad way, but more in a ‘ooh, I’m trying to change things step by tiny step way’.

I hope you enjoyed it – please do head on over to Linda’s blog to read more!

 

Even the sea – Friday Fictioneers

freyathewriter 24 Comments

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There is no water left here.

Well, that’s not strictly true. There is the sea, but of course, it’s not drinkable.

The bottom of the reservoir is still shining with watery residue, but it’s more silt than anything else. A desperate few are laying rags down, hoping to soak up the final puddle, to squeeze a few cloudy drops into mugs for later.

Others are still hunting for fruit of any kind, hoping to find The One that is still succulent after all this time. But the entire world is brown.

Even the sea. Even the sea.

It’s been a very long time, and I’m trying to get back in the swing of things. What better way than to dive into the ocean of Friday Fictioneers, hosted by the lovely Rochelle? Do give her weekly fun a try – be inspired by the image she posts eery week to write 100 (ish) words on whatever comes to mind.

As for me, I will take a good nosey around at the other entries over the next few days – I’m so looking forward to it!

Facsimile – dVerse Poetics

freyathewriter 30 Comments

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I’m not as resilient as I used to think

I am hollowed out and my mouth

is emptied when I most need to speak.

Fear steals my words and amplifies my thoughts –

the worst-case scenarios

the shadows

the insecurities

the ghosts

they haunt me

when all I want to do is

express how I feel

share my emotions

let you know me.

Be me.

Now that, that all silences me.

I’m no longer a woman

I’m the little girl waiting at the window

for someone

who never comes.

I put on a brave face

hid behind my curtain of unruly hair

and pretended everything was fine.

Who was I fooling?

I never had a poker face

I never will.

Nothing changes so very much.

Even if the damn words won’t come out

they’re all there

waiting to be freed

if I could only let them.

I’m silenced by the distant past

catching up and tripping me.

And I’m never prepared.

Never prepared.

I can’t unravel it on my own. Will you help me?

Here’s my entry into this week’s dVerse Poetics, hosted by the lovely Abhra who is, sadly, saying goodbye as one of the trusty and dedicated barkeeps at our wonderful bar. Sometimes, you just have to recognise when it’s time to move on.

The theme this week is unintended farewells. I did struggle with this a bit (and only partially because WordPress had a bit of a melt-down yesterday), since I didn’t want to hark back directly to the sudden and unexpected loss of my dad, which many of you have read about.

My entry is more to do with the consequences of that, and a few other chicanes in the road that have been part of my life over the past few years. I do feel as if I’m no longer the person I used to be. Sometimes, it’s bloody hard, sometimes, I see glimmers of someone else far more positive and creative than I was. It’s a confusing mess, but at least it’s life!

Please do head on over to the blog and this week’s Poetics to read more poety goodness – and to wish Abhra well, of course!.