... I'm at a difficult point in my life. I wish I could stop the bus, get off, and head back in the other direction. This is just getting too much for me. I never thought anything like this would happen to me. Thought I would be immune to something like this. But I fell, and I fell hard. Harder than I ever had before.
I don't want my life to be like this. But unfortunately it already is. And I'm trying to change it, trying to forget... but I can't. I really tried. I did my best to forget for the past three months. But if anything, its even worse now than it was before. These feelings that I can't keep to myself anymore, and can't share.
Only two people except me knows what this is really all about. One being the person caught up in this mess with me, and the other one a friend who went through something similar recently. I wish I could speak about it. But nobody would understand. I know that much.
The worst is that I didn't ask for this to happen. Honestly. Although I realize I'm not blameless. Can I blame fate for this? Or do I have to accept full responsibility for something I feel I have no control over? Or do have to blame "the other person" in this situation?
But then I realize something shocking: I don't want to blame anyone. I don't want this to be wrong, or to let it make me feel this way. I want it to work out, to turn out differently than it already did. But it can't. It just can't. Never.
How do you forget? How do you move on? How do you stop caring?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Hello Poppie,
Hier is iets vir jou hart.
==============
Die oorlog van die Lem
==============
Die babbelaas was fokkol teen die bomskok, die anargie was fokkol teen die opfok
Die nagmerries was fokkol teen die elke dag se vrees
Die jippo guts was fokkol teen die stories wat jy lees
Van crack in die lokasies en messe in die straat
Is steeds gister se oop wonde wat nog oopbloei, wat nog praat
Dis die etter in die sweer van '48 se vloek,
dis die trane wat ons inhou, al die name in God's boek
Van die maters van die struggle, en die heroes sonder stem
Dit was afrika se vuurdoop, dit was die oorlog van die lem
En tot vandag is dit die mense sonder kos in hulle pense
wat loop en krap in vullisblikke, en wat sterf in ongelukke
soos die mini-bussies omval en die tsotsies skree en skiet.
In hierdie land van bloed en weerwraak, hierdie skrikkeljaar-gebied
Tussen die rainbow en die riots, die Rizlas en die rush
En die skrale troos van Castle vir al die swartes sonder pas
Tog vlam ons hoop weer redeloos oor die sunset van ons taal
Wat doen ons in two thousand, dra ek 'n trui of slaap ek kaal?
Is daar 'n method in die madness van 'n baie ou verhaal?
my eerste naam is a voortrekker gestorwe in Natal.
my van is die seun van Claas
ek het in engeland tot onlangs gewoon
my email is my naam@van.waar.ek.gewoon.het
Post a Comment