Thursday, September 27, 2012

Speak no evil

To me words are the greatest weapon of all, they have and always will be my power to express how I feel and have someone really understand. I relish in literary expression and when I read a good book can be truly transported into it, I feel lucky to have that ability because it's an escape not everyone can utilise. I know the power of my own words which is why I have learnt to tame them in a way. I used to be vicious, say things that perhaps I meant but should never say. If I wanted to hurt people with them, I would. And it wasnt until I realised the depth with which they could hurt a person I taught myself to hold them back. To this day I remember the hurtful things my father said to me as a child, or the flippent off the cuff remarks my grandmother would make about my appearance, I especially remember the things ex lovers have said in their darkest hours when all they wanted to do was break my heart. If you respect words then its almost impossible to forget them once theyve been spoken, which is why I find it so difficult to truly forgive those who have used theirs against me. I'm over analytical and at times this can mean I am unforgiving. Sometimes I wish it wasnt so, I wish I could let things wash over me and move on without the burden of memory. But I suppose thats just who I am, and trying to be something else would be a lie.

Monday, September 24, 2012

Monday

I hear small children talk about wanting more, I see them playing on the road, kicking a ball, the girls at the end of my street are unable to go to school because their dad has no lunch for them, the small aboriginal boy lags behind his mother who swears at him obscenely and tells him to hurry up. I hear people tell them you can still be what you want to be, but when there is no one to guide you through the darkness everyday and you're still just a baby then how can you escape the swamp? They can't do it on their own. I want to tell them it will be ok, but I can make no guarantee's, I want to grab their little hands and give them all the things they need. I want to say I understand, that it sucks and i'm sorry for the card they've been dealt. But I don't. I was once like them, playing in the complex, stealing food to eat, waiting for mums next pension, waiting in line. Housing commission. Centrelink. I was once like them...but now i'm me, and I'm ok. So maybe they can be too. I'm not hurt or afraid, noone harms me, I have people who love me and they can have that too, they need to demand it and settle for nothing less. I want to say although i'll never forget where I came from, I will never let it define me. We are not our past. I just wish a young mind could understand that. I wish they knew how powerful they can be.