Day 33: Those Days, Those Weeks

There are good weeks. Weeks where you will be motivated and inspired to sit at your ever-so-quick-to overheat laptop and study and write and the words will flow endlessly as though you're a dictionary or a thesaurus.

But you're not.

There are good weeks. Weeks where jogging in the morning and running against the lowering of the sun drives you out of bed in the morning and your toes are jumpy and you are so incredibly healthy because every fibre in your body is screaming with positivity as though you're a proton.

But you're not.

Because, there are bad weeks. Weeks where the words just won't flow and glaringly white word documents stare back at you for hours and you're not even motivated to write in your journal and words just won't write and every day that piles onto each other agitates the growing irritation inside you.

There are bad weeks. Weeks where the morning feels like night and you have to drag yourself out of bed because your body feels like lead and you constantly feel as though the Sandman is constantly pouring sand into your eyes and everything feels so sluggish and you force yourself to smile because you don't want people to be worried.

There are bad weeks. Weeks where you just want to lock your bedroom door, cover your head with your bedsheets and just cry into the mattress because you're so fucking sensitive to every emotion and any little thing people say can make you so fucking depressed that you wonder if you're slipping back into that abyss.

But you're not.

There are just bad weeks and good weeks. And after the bad weeks, good weeks follow. You just have to trudge through and remember all the good weeks.

Day 32: My Parents were Boat People

Note: This is going to be one of my poems for this year's poetry slam competition.

My parents were boat people
Like a simple label could categorise all the pain, the loss
Why can’t they be treated as equals?
When we can’t even endure half of what they went through.
Water shortage, starvation, boat cramped thrice its capacity.
Having to shit over the railing, these examples are just a few.

Terrorists, job thieves, invaders.
Apparently, they’re out to destroy our lives.
Half-starved, half-desperate: what invaders?
They just want rooves that don’t leak and walls without bullet holes.
A new country as their new home.
A country’s whose flag they can hang proudly on flagpoles.

Instead, we give them Darwin, Christmas Island and Villawood.
Where children try to overdose on their mother’s sleeping pills.
Why are we ruining a nine-year old’s childhood?
I thought we’re supposed to be a multicultural society?
Yet we have human rights abuse and poor living standards.
We’re sending people into high states of anxiety.

My parents were boat people.
People who were also born of flesh and blood.
Yet somehow, they’re still unequal.
They have sick mothers to feed and daughters hidden from prostitution
And all they want is a fresh start, a chance for survival
Instead, we give them criticism and exclusion.

We forget boat people are people too.
Just because we might not have the space or the money,
Doesn’t mean we can scream or bellow, “Fuck you!”
It doesn’t mean they’re any less human.
And don’t even dare to label them as flora and fauna
Because the question is: Are you human?

Our politicians are all for long speeches that answers everything:

Off-shore detention centres, improvement in facilities, new refugee camps;
The sky, the earth, everything and yet nothing.
Because, we are not the solution.
We are the continuation of their problems.
It’s their country, with all the wars is the complication. 

Day 25: Acoustics

Beating belts and slamming doors
Screams that shatter floors
Broken plates and bleeding sores
I don't know who we are anymore
Fuck you bitch and fuck you whore
Are weapons of our hating wars
Crooked frames and cracked jaws
I don't think we love anymore

Day 17: Letter of Farewell

These are the words I would have said at your funeral if I had attended. If only I had known. You were a good man. My memory of you will always be of you struggling to get up from your seat in your old age to welcome me into your home. A warm second home.

Rest in peace, up there in heaven. Where surely that is where you are now. I promise I will look after the boys. My brother and your grandson because they're both my brothers. I will make sure that they grow up to become good proper men. To make sure they don't follow the wrong crowds, don't lose their way but if they do, I'll be there to guide them back onto the right path to a good and moral life. I promise to be there in your place. I will love both the boys.

These are my words to you.

Day 1: Beginning

Note: I thought I would start the first of this 365 days writing project with the beginning of my life.

1991, the year I was born was the year Australia accepted my parents into the country. They spent the previous two years in an off-shore refugee centre in Malaysia. That year, my parents were placed in Hobart, the capital of the island state of Tasmania.

My mother didn't like Hobart. The place she stayed was much too cold, there was snow and having been born and raised in Vietnam, snow was incredibly much too cold. Hobart at the time was more remote than it is now. It took an hour for her to walk to the shops.

I was born in spring. Weighing less than a kilogram, I was so fragile, my mother thought that I wasn't going to survive my first winter there. So everyday, she held onto me desperately sharing her warmth, singing a lullaby.

She is the reason why I don't do stupid things to my body. Like tattoos, drugs, smoke or excessive drinking. My body is much too precious to damage.

Not Afraid

Screams bounce off the tilted paintings on the walls.
Fingers jab hurtful words at hurting chests.
Faults and blames counter each other's assault.
But somehow it's always her fault.
She said, "I'm not afraid of your anger."

Broken trusts slices at broken hearts.
Voices stomp on fragmented tears.
Slurred cussing followed home again.
It's her fault that he had a bad day.
She said, "I'm not afraid of your blame."

Mornings wake to yesterday's forgotten.
It didn't happen.
Words washed away like chipped cutlery.
Yet the red in her eyes, the sobs in her throat: still there.
She said, "I'm not afraid of your mood swings."

Clothes thrown askew on the front lawn.
Suitcase half packed, half demolished.
Tired of his violence, tired of the cycle.
He doesn't deserve her home, doors locked.
She said, "I'm not afraid of you."

Corpse Bride

Strangled throat with red hand marks.
Tear stained cheeks and blotched mascara.
Hollowed eye sockets, searching for an escape.
I’m a skeleton bride walking down the aisle.
Decaying skin peels for wriggling maggots.
White boned hands grasping on a thin thread.
There is something suffocating,
about a chained ring finger.
Inescapable. Unbreathable.
Noose hangs from my neck.
I can’t breathe through your hold on me.
Feels like I’m the walking dead.
Or I have been buried alive.
Bloodied nails clawing at unopened casket.
I’m screaming but I can’t be heard.
Chewed up tongue lost between brittle teeth.
Speak now or forever hold your peace.

Sun sets on yesterday: part 1

Jaden holds his hand out for me as we tread through the rubble gingerly. Emily trails behind us. I call out for her, ‘Emily quickly or I’ll leave you behind. I think I hear wolves howling!’ I watch as her little legs scurries through the crumbled leaves. I press my lips thin, trying not to laugh. Children are so fun to tease. Jaden releases my hand and crouches down, ‘Emily, I’ll give you a piggy-back. Let’s leave your mean sister behind.’ 

With that said, the two raced ahead, leaving me to watch their distant backs. Sometimes, I think my boyfriend loves my younger sister more. But I love him that much more for it. I brush my fingers along the dusty cobbled walls. I’m fond of abandoned places. There is a gentle silence to not being touched for so long. Today, Jaden took us to the ruins of an old train station. Long labyrinth tunnels. Broken brick walls. Autumn leaves rustling underneath lonely benches. 

‘Heather help!’

Emily’s screams breaks through the silence. Something is wrong. Blindly I follow the sound of her voice. Something is wrong. Jaden wouldn’t let anything happen to her. I was wrong. I stumble into a clearing. I’m surrounded by men. Someone I don’t know have Emily. He’s holding her with one arm and injecting something into her with another. I watch in horror as her body goes limp and she froths at the mouth. Drugs. 

‘Let her go!’

I lunge for him, ‘Let Emily go!’ Jaden blocks me. What’s happening? I don’t understand. ‘Jaden? What’s going on?’ He lowers his head, his voice whispering into my left ear, ‘I’m sorry Heather.’ I turn to look at him, ‘Sorry? Sorry for what?’ He shakes his head slightly, ‘Don’t ask questions. Just run. Your sister. . . don’t ever forgive me.’ 

'I won't forgive. If she dies, I won't ever forgive you.'

I allow myself a final glance at Emily before I spun around and ran away. Behind me, I hear shouts and thundering footsteps. I dodge arms and cut corners through the old station. I escape into the forest and make a break for the bushes. I won’t let myself get captured. I lie flat onto the soil. And wait. My heart pounds hard. I won’t let myself get captured. Not before finding a way to rescue Emily. Not before we're safely home. I will save my sister.

Right now. It's only me. And this forest. No car. No food. No weapons. I dig into my backpack. A bottle of water. Half empty. A compass. A map and my mobile. I should be able to survive. No. I will survive and rescue my sister.

Imaginary Friend

Noah is my most special friend. Only I can see him. He is like Peter Pan; he doesn’t grow old. He is always fourteen. He always looks the same. Curly brown hair. Stripy red jacket. Black jeans. He is always the same. I was five when I found him in Wendy house. He was fourteen then too. Wendy house is the old grey cubby house in Neverland. Noah told me that it wasn’t always grey. It used to be blue.  Neverland is the park behind my house. Mummy says its “Abandoned” so I shouldn’t play there. But I still do because Noah is there. He is Peter Pan and I am Wendy Darling. Neverland is our secret.

Mummy says I can’t mention Noah’s name in front of Daddy. It “upsets” him. My parents don’t like Noah. They think he isn’t real. That he is only make believe. But they don’t know Noah like I do. He is real. He is lighter than the dandelions that flutter in the wind. His laughter jingles like the chimes hanging from my window. He is warmer than the sun. He is my most special friend but he doesn’t belong to me. Because he is Peter Pan. 

Fractured for Family

Every night, you come home angry.
Brows creased. Lips snarled. Fists clenched.
You’re soberly addicted to resentment.
You’re drunk on frustration.
You won’t let it go.

Every night, you come home tired.
Shoulders slumped. Eyes drooped. Feet dragged.
Too tired to speak. Too tired to do anything.
You’re half here. Half gone.
Really, you’re hardly here at all. 

Every night, I pray to the Gods.
Silent tears. Hands clasped tightly. Emotionally drained.
I pray for salvation.
I pray for time to rewind to the past.
Back to a home that used to smile. 

Pre-Valentine's day

Dear beloved followers,

Tomorrow is Valentine's day in Australia. And every year, I write a little something to remind people that it's okay to be alone on that day. Because, it's not about how many roses or teddy bears you receive in your mail. It's not about whether or not you get serenaded at your office during lunch. It's about how you spend that day. Valentine's day symbolises love.

And love, it is not exclusively for people in relationships. It includes your friends and family too. But most importantly, it's a day to appreciate yourself even if others don't. Spend tomorrow doing something you love. Slip on your favourite outfit, take yourself to your favourite restaurant and enjoy a good meal. Or spend the night in with other friends and enjoy a movie night. Or if you're a book lover like me, spend the day surrounded by walls of shelves at the local library or bookstore. Whatever you're doing, do something you love because you have to remember to love yourself too.

Tomorrow morning, I'm going to dress up nicely and take the first train down south. There's this gorgeous place that I've been meaning to explore so I'm going to treat myself to a little adventure. Because, even if there's no one to take me, it doesn't mean I can't take myself. I'm not going to lose. I will have fun. Because, I'm not going to let a commercialised day let me down. Valentine's day, is a day about love. But even without the reminder, I know to appreciate the people who are important to me.

And that means remembering that you are important too. So beloved followers, whatever your plans are for Valentine's day, love your friends, love your family, love your partner but most importantly, love yourself.

Hugs and kisses,

Lucy

Ps. I I think I repeated myself a few times but you get the point right? Also, this could have been a lot worse if I had decided to follow through with vlogging this post.

I believe....

Inspired by Barry's post: What I believe

• I believe that you can indeed love more than one person at a time but for different reasons and in different ways.
• I believe that people no matter their age, gender, race, sexuality, physical or mental ability have a voice and that their voice should never be ignored.
• I believe in a love that last forever.
• I believe that parents should always be supportive of their children's decisions, even if it's wrong. They will discover that themselves.
• I believe promises are meant to be kept. Always.
• I believe that hope is never lost. It is found when we need it the most.
• I believe that violence is never the solution.
• I believe that if you're good, people will eventually realise. You shouldn't have to prove anything.
• I believe that people who hurt others for the fun of it are sick individuals. Entertainment should never be at the expense of others' safety.
• I believe people who burn books are missing out on a whole lot of knowledge.
• I believe that a smile doesn't always mean you're happy.
• I believe it takes time to get to know someone. Anyone who says that they can become someone's best friend in a few minutes has seriously misunderstood that word's definition.
• I believe it takes a lifetime to truly know someone.
• I believe that there are spirits.
• I believe people should always be given the benefit of a doubt.
• I believe animals have feelings and thoughts that matter. 
• I believe that it's okay to cry when you feel weak. 
• I believe that it's okay to sometimes feel weak.
• I believe that just because you wear lace stockings it doesn't mean you're a hooker.
• I believe that there is more love in this world than hate. 
• I believe that you should only ever say, "I love you" when you truly mean it.
• I believe words are beautiful and profanity is ugly. 
• I believe that leaving doesn't always mean running away. It means you need space to be alone.
• I believe that revenge does nothing for the past or future. It only gives you temporary relief.
• I believe that no one owns another person. No one has an obligation to stay in any relationship whether that is family, friends or lover. 
• I believe that everyone has a right to live in safety. No one should have to live everyday in fear of their lives or others.
• I believe hands are meant for caressing and lips are meant for kissing. They're not meant for hurting.
• I believe in Heaven and Hell.
• I believe that things can't always be bad.
• I believe that the world won't end this year.
• I believe that the guitar is one of the most beautiful instruments ever.
• I believe in good old fashioned love letters. They show more sincerity than an email or a text.
• I believe that I'm going to be alone this Valentine's day but that's okay because I don't need a commercialised day to tell me how to appreciate the people that are important to me.
• I believe that people will always judge but that doesn't mean you should listen to them.
• I believe that life should always be given and not taken.
• I believe that no one should ever be judged by their appearance. Size doesn't matter. Just because you're small doesn't mean you're not strong. Just because you're big doesn't mean you don't feel pain.
• I believe that I can't ever hate anyone.
• I believe that no matter how confused of who I am or who I want to be, I'll never be confused of my feelings. I know that I love you. Because I am always going to a lover. 

Lone journey

Once I've made a decision, my head feels lighter. It doesn't change the fact that this will be difficult and people will judge but for once in my life, I don't care. People will always judge. They don't matter. The only opinions that matter are those of my friends and family. And if they're not supportive then I'll just have to go through this alone.

And that's okay too.

Because, in a few months time, I'll be leaving on a journey of independence and self discovery. I can't find myself when all I can hear are the clashing voices of everyone around me. I would go now but two factors are holding me back:
1. Still saving money
2. I can't abandon my family when things are tough

So for now, I just have to be patient and persevere. I have to remember to find joy in the little things. Because, I know if I can't smile about the little things then I'll fall apart. I'm a desperate optimist.

Beloved followers, wish me luck.

Lucy (aka. Lovesick Fool)

Photographs

Once again, we're faking.
Happiness lasts but a mere second.
That fragile fleeting moment between a blink and a smile.
It fades away after your eyes stops stinging.
I'm holding onto your hand, afraid of falling.
Please don't let me go.
Don't let what we have crumble away after all we've been through.
Sometimes, the sky is so blue that it hurts.
Because, I cannot ever reach it with these hands.
I wonder if we're ever truly happy?
I try to capture your smile into a jar of forever.
But it flutters away just beyond my fingertips.
Why is it so hard to maintain a rainbow in the clouds?
Once again, we're breaking.
Photo frames slips off walls, non-existent.
I hide inside corners of doors, my hands shielding my ears.
Angry voices shakes the foundations of this house.
Photographs are only a mere second of a whole lifetime.
But they aren't exactly telling lies.
We were once happy.

Happy Lunar New Year

Too late

You realised too late.
If only you knew before you opened your lips,
that what you were asking of me was too much.
But I was the one that gave up something important for you.
I knew what I was losing.
You were only thinking of the finish line,
Not caring how you get there and who you hurt along the way.
And I was too weak to find an escape from your handcuffs.
It hurts that you're only starting to grasp the situation now.
You're just a little too late.
Nothing can return to how they were.
But it's better that you're late than never at all.

Hell

She says, I gave life to you so I can take it away.
That if I told you to sacrifice your life for me,
you should readily throw it away.
You should die for me and it wouldn't be wrong.

I don't know how to reply when you say that.
I am trapped in a room with a double edged sword.
I am damned if I don't and damned if I do.
Either way, I will be going to Hell.

I'm so exhausted; my bed is my only escape.
Wake me up when the world is sane again.
Or don't wake me up at all.

Losing battle

I said that you shouldn't get used to disappointment;
But I've lost count how many times things didn't go our way.
I try to find the positives in these storm clouds but,
It's so hard to fight for a future that is so hard to see.
And that's what breaks my heart the most.
Because I really wanted this to work,
But we're only going to deteriorate.
And we'll hurt more than we do now.
I'm sorry.

Little birdie

Happiness is that little birdie I found one morning.
He slept on my doorstep with a nest that's half broken and half gone down the drain.
I wrapped him in my scarf and fed him water from a bottle.
Mother said he wouldn't last the night but I knew better.
She said, "Children don't know anything."

I can't remember the last time I rescued life that's almost dying.
I can't remember the last time I found Happiness on my doorstep.
I can't remember the last time I wished on a star and felt like crying.
I don't want to remember, the last time that I wept.

Happiness is that little birdie I found one morning.
I didn't sleep a wink that night, fearing his heart would stop inside my chest.
We woke to the waking dawn and I knew I was right all along.
But, Happiness flew away the next day.
Father said, "Children shouldn't gloat."

And, I can't remember the last time I rescued life that's almost dying.
I can't remember the last time I found Happiness on my doorstep.
I can't remember the last time I wished on a star and felt like crying.
I don't want to remember, the last time that I wept.

Happiness is that little birdie I found one morning.
I kept his nest and filled it with jewelry like my heart that's filled to the brim.
Sometimes, he flew back through my window to play.
I knew enough to trust my heart and waited.
Because children, all eventually grow up.

Innocent until proven Guilty

Darling, it feels like it's only us against the whole world.
The ground is grumbling under our feet.
There is no where to flee.
We cannot escape this with our hands tied behind our backs.
It is a burning room with the exit sign bled out.
Air is suffocating around us.
Why are we in this situation in the first place?
What happened to innocent until proven guilty?
Isn't it enough that we found happiness in an abyss?
No, the world is still collapsing around us.
And angry hunters still hunger for our blood.
Darling, it's only us against the whole world.
And we have no voice to plead innocence with.
But I promise we'll survive this trial.
Because I believe in us.