A Goodbye I Am Reluctant to Say

A goodbye I am reluctant to say.
A goodbye, I knew may come,
But never wanted to,
Always put off.

The pain of letting go,
Someone you care about,
Someone whose happiness makes you’re day all that better.

Someone to talk with,
Laugh with.
And smile with.

But what if it’s all based on a lie?
A lie I tell,
To put aside the pain,
For a time.

I never want to hurt you.
That’s the last thing I want.
Maybe I should have said goodbye sooner,
The goodbye I am reluctant to say.
To spare you pain.
Or maybe you will feel none,
I surely hope you don’t.
No matter what I end up feeling.

A care, once given,
Always present,
But only can be from afar.

I care, always do, no matter what I show,
But hating, is the best way to shield from the pain.
The pain of caring.

I feel clear,
Yet also conflicted,
Thinking back the night,
The times all these years,
Remembering all the smallest details,
Just thinking of you.

I must say goodbye,
One I am reluctant to say.
Have always been reluctant to say.
My feelings,
They hurt me so.
While you don’t feel the same.

I understand,
But please leave me to heal,
Let me leave.
Let me live.

This is heartbreaking to say,
And as I type, reluctant.
Thinking of the memories,
Staying,
But the feelings slowly erasing.
I only feel sad.
Sad for my loss.
Loss of a friend,
Loss of a person I care about.

But as you’ve said.
Sometimes you have to let go,
To collect,
To heal,
To move on and be better.

That is what I have to do.
I’ve known for a while.

I have been better than before,
But the feelings won’t fade,
While I’m still around you.
I’ve known that since the start.

You’ll never know how much I cared,
How much I care.
I cannot explain with language.

But no matter,
I must go.
A goodbye, I am ever-so reluctant to say.
That committing the words is difficult.

Never wanting this poem to end.
Never wanting this goodbye to be said.

But seeing no other option.
All my closest friends telling me to get out.
Caring as though they are,
They don’t understand.

The main reason,
For this goodbye I am reluctant to say.
For you to be better,
To be unburdened by pain,
Pain that will come,
Sooner or later.
From my caring heart,
Too big for a single person to hold, but I do.
Wanting you.

To have the best.
Be the best.
And I fear deeply, that this means goodbye.

The goodbye. I am most reluctant to say.


Writing, with thanks to a few close friends, helping me to see what I should have. Helping me out when I needed it.

I had an amazing night with rough parts, sorry to say goodbye. Sorry for that. I always give my best and forget to make myself okay, always putting another first. For if you care about someone, that’s what you do, for a time. But this is totally like that. It is good most of the times, amazing even, but others, it breaks me apart. Even if these feelings are almost all good, I’m sick of lies, sick of trying to convince myself of hope or a lie I do not truly believe but want to.

My favourite quote ever, made by myself, before, thinking of the same person, paraphrasing, it goes like “I would face my demons, just so I could help you face yours”. This holds true. This holds true. But I have come to realise, with this one-way feeling, that I cannot face my demons, without saying goodbye to you, but I’ll always be hoping you face yours and win. Hoping you succeed. Will always be a call away in your time of darkest need. As, I always care, I always will.

Thinking of the singing tonight, the small things you said, how you do not care like I do. That’s fine. But I must get out.
I have deleted the poems written tonight in pain,
Instead to write true from my heart and mind.

Only sad to see it end,
Sad to see it end on this note.
Only hoping for your best.

I can write for hours and not say what I truly feel, what I truly want to say.
But I try.

I have been better recently, so much so, even if my poetry tonight and recently do not show. But, this is why I know I do need to leave. Do need to say goodbye. To avoid a dark place. As I come to realise, you do not care about me like I do you. I don’t have any blame to give. But I need to, find space to live.

I have a christmas present I still want to give, a small something, not about me, or us, but you. Something I hope you’d let me. But I guess that’s to be seen, or not.

Wishing you, the very best, something I know you can and will succeed.
I’m only saddened by the times, to be lost, past and future.
Saddened that I cannot be there to witness, your success.

Even after publishing I do not know if I really want to say this.
But you deserve the truth.
I hope to ever bone not to cause you any pain.
I’d rather anything and everything else.

But in the end,
I guess this is what makes this,
A goodbye I am so reluctant to say.

Written. Night of the 7th December. Leaving to publish later. To see if I can carry on without the saddest goodbye. I do not want to say.

Published, night of the 10th December, a record of how I felt. With recent happenings, chats, amazing times making it all complicated. But also amazing.

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All Of Me

That feeling,
All of me,
Shown to you.

Whole before,
But with you, something more.

Me before you.
All I can.

All I would do,
For you.
I cannot even know.

In those brightest moments,
All I can think of is you.

Those times shared,
Feelings felt.
All of me,
When I’m with you.

All those times shared.
The bright to move with.
All you say.
All you do.
All I would do for you.
Anything, to help you better.

You have all of me.
In care,
In love, never to falter.
Trust me, I’ve tried.

A golden person,
Kind, caring, meaningful, intelligent and beautiful.
A model to behold.

Your hurt,
Becommingg mine,
To help and hold.
Care and console.
To hold your hand and fight it through.

No matter what you face,
Never alone if you don’t want to be.

I’ll have your back.
Be by your side.
Care when you’re down.
Hold you up,
To stop you drown.
All of me.
All I can offer.

Deserved and meaningful.
Beautiful and blissful.
Never will I forget.

All of me.

The way you are,
Perfect to me,
Nevermind how I try to see past.
Reality hitting me hard.
You.
Your beauty and kindness is always there.
My love and care.
I try.
All I can.

All of me.


I could spend all night writing this.

I really want to. But cannot, should not.

All my feelings. Bursting me at the seams.

The feelings,

The perfection from normalcy. From reality.

Being, living in a perfection.

Loving, living, being life, alive.

Words can never explain.

But poetry is be best way I can try.

All of me. In a poem. My very best. All I have. All I can. All I offer. All of me.

Ramblings On Love, and Life

Something to share, to be, feel and give.

Something whole, yet always wanting more, to give more, share more, show more.

To face down darkest times, to help fight a way through the dark, and to find a way when it isn’t clear. To find a way to help when one isn’t shown. And when all options have been exhausted. To give a kind embrace, of heart, mind, and actuality, to help. The best feeling. To give your all, to help someone you deeply care about. To be there, even if their pain hurts you to see them so. Bear it, to help them even for but a moment. Especially if they would, they have, done the same for you.

Held you through your trials, your troubles. It isn’t owed, but in the mind it is. Confusing. Like an unsaid promise, not done because of obligation but an self-internal obligation for yourself and for them.

Such feelings cannot be explained. Only felt. Rare as they are. They are perfect. They are everything but at the same time, not, an important part of many that make you whole.

I could write for days right now. But should not.

Amazing to think, all they’ve been through, to help. I’m under no obligation to, but the one I set myself. The one I must fulfil only because of my choice, my care, my love and choice.

This feeling, bliss and happiness, I urge everyone, as I will try to do. To infuse it into everything else:

The will, power, determination, happiness, strength, care, compassion, love, hope, persistence. To feeling good, no, great, amazing. For yourself, everything, everyone. Then the sun will shine through the thick fog, over any mountain, rendering everything perfect, even as it isn’t, it will be.

An everything from not everything to make everything into a perfection that isn’t perfect, but at the same time, it is.


Looking at all the WordPorn phrases I’ve saved, picking the best related ones, the ones that touch me and bring tears of joy, happiness and deep thought. Here they are:

My Life with Asberger’s

Imagine living in a world,
One where you are the outcast, an alien.
Where you see lots but cannot speak a word.

You internalise these thoughts, or maybe, they were always from inside and actually unreal outside of your own mind. You start questioning everything, yourself, others, your own physiological functioning.

There is a great difference between the fear and reality, but this is difficult to reconcile, see and remember. I have many friends, of which I am very lucky. But this doesn’t prevent my own mind, sabotaging my efforts, putting my mood down.

In terms of mood, my emotions vary wildly, very wildly within the time it takes for a thought to run through your mind (literally), I can change from a happy mood from going out with friends and feeling so blessed for the amazing people around me. All the way to remembering an awkward moment, or something someone said and it remains with me, I brood and it consumes me.

Asbergers for me isn’t an emotionless or a total inability to understand emotions, I can understand the emotions of friends, and relate. If I see a friend in a crisis I am always happy and there to help, I feel their pain in a semi-literal sense. I continue to help to try and play my part in helping as I know they would do for me. However, helping others hurts, for me, because I feel the sadness, for them, for their situation and it affects me for a long duration from hours to even weeks after the incident.

Asbergers isn’t necessarily about a disconnection with emotion, but a misguided-too-high connection, to feel great pain for them, to want to do anything to help them. It is, at least for me, overwhelming emotion, overwhelming empathy for another.

People always comment on the large number of times I say ‘sorry’, in casual conversation, I say it without even noticing now, like someone may say ‘okay’ or ‘ahhh’. Trying to analyse why I do this, without even noticing, I would guess it comes from my desire to remain within the group, even if there are absolutely no doubts within my head of my place in my friendship group.

Another aspect is my shy nature, I am totally shy, even if I do not show it to close friends, I am constantly thinking of what to say, how, (despite this I still make mistakes). Along with this, I am also very nervous at most times, and find doing new things very difficult. Doing new things always worries me as I overthink of every possible scenario and ways to tackle them, this then makes every decision a very brain-consuming one.

 


My favourite tv show, Rick and Morty, all of my friends know I am obsessed with it. One thing I commonly say, partially as a joke, but totally meant, is that “Rick and Morty isn’t a tv show, it’s a lifestyle.” Even this isn’t totally accurate, Rick and Morty is life. I so relate to the character of Rick more than anything else:

In a meaningless world, in which I try and try. Everything before your eyes turn to dust. Deeply sad, with occasions when the sadness is hidden. I try my best, I try to bring comfort and care to others (not unlike Rick, but he’s complicated). Rick, is deeply sad.

Even from memory, some examples include: Rick trying to kill himself, Rick sacrificing himself for Morty, Rick’s existential angst and painful existence.

It may be hard to explain, or understand, but even despite the dark bleak nature of existence, as outlined by Rick and Morty, I’m not sad, I’ve been better than I have been in years, however, even happiness doesn’t negate the aspects aforementioned.

Imagine never being able to trust your own perception, living blind, but even with blindness you have your other senses. Imagine having to use others’ as your own are faulty. Yet giving others’ trust over your own perception, your own existence and ability to interact with the world. Even as you find yourself imitating the behaviour of people I am around trying to understand. I am a new person, whenever I am around a different person. These aspects brought me to an existential panic and crisis of identity when I was 12. This hasn’t been resolved, but in the wise words of Rick, that I have to live by, “just don’t think about it”.
This level of trust I place in others, only few others, but still, means I am easily manipulated, (this is difficult) or so I think? Or maybe not? The problem with lacking perception, is that anything you ‘know’, you actually do not.
This only makes the ‘just don’t think about it’ even more relevant.

This post I have been editing for months, it’s not in a coherent order or structure, but a monologue of my being, by lack of understanding. A living I have become used to. Although I would hardly call it that. The perception or lack of, the strong emotions, the (very near) infinite empathy [sometimes in helping others, I even get overwhelmed sadness or happiness depending on their emotions]. There is one word for this existence. Torture.

However, even in saying this, it may sound bleak, I have gotten much better than I had been before, even as I describe it in dark or bleak terms, this living. This is life. Even in my happiness, or even ecstatic joy, this persists, this is existence. And this is why Rick and Morty is a show that resonates with me so greatly, it is life represented in metaphorical cartoon form.

So much more to say, but much of it I cannot even think of.
I think I am much better, but even analysing this, why, it doesn’t necessarily bode well. But I’ll try. There is no choice but to continue. Continue and “just don’t think about it”.

 


p.s. Even this blogpost was written, the first part in one [worse] state of mind while the second in a much better one, and thus may seen incoherent, quite fitting for the theme of this post, and… my life.

 


To end, I shall mention some lines I’m thinking of as a tattoo:

Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

This is from Dylan Thomas’ Do Not Go Gentle Into that Good Night. It’s a poem that fills me determination to rage against the emptiness and find myself, find the light, the grab hold, never let go for as long as I can. It also reminds me of times of great sadness, wanting to rage against all that has hurt me and come out on top, to find something for going on. Every emotion I find myself feeling, it always can mean something related to these lines. Finally I shall end, with Dylan Thomas’ whole poem:

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.


 

The Problem of Being Logical.

There is a problem of being too logical, it’s like being able to see while everyone else is unable, it’s like knowing to a solution to a mathematical equation that you cannot speak  or share.

I find this in many areas, where I rationalise something from a startpoint and don’t stop until it comes to an inevitable conclusion (while also accounting for any and all gatherable information and other points of view to find the ‘best’).

The most enraging times are those when someone I know listen to my rationalisation, agree with it being the rationalisation, but still disagree due to some ‘inherent feeling’.

I would like to reiterate that I do not mean I come up with an opinion and hold onto it dearly disregarding all other views, this is not what I do. What I do is find out lots of information, let’s say about a situation, then I rationalise, let’s say, a solution or rationale. From a premise I construct a path, and keep testing each brick, each step against all other bricks and pick the one that stands up the strongest.

The worst times are when others see and agree with the construction of a rationale, using a process like I have already mentioned, however even despite total agreement. They do not accept the end argument, lacking any disputing evidence rationale or argument.

It’s also difficult when people look at what you say or write and look at you like you’re speaking a different language. You start wondering are you?

The end conclusion of this on a personal note, for most (definitely 99% at the least) interactions I speak like I have castrated my own mind for the duration of a social interaction. It is usually easier this way, there is no confusion, a conversation is held and passed. However, there is no stretch, no growth, challenge or stimulation.

The problem of being logical, of being, self-neutering to fit in with everyone else.

I also do not wish to sound pretentious or self-important. I do not value my own opinion above others, I welcome and prefer it when others prove me wrong, provide evidence or a better and more rational view, this excites me and represents growth. I love an intellectual debate, a smart conversation. Questioning reality, experience, perception, views and everything there is to know. I love teaching others or sharing my opinion and prefer greatly others to share theirs. The best thing about other people sharing their opinion (even if I reason that it’s not the best potential evidence in an argument) is that it is potential evidence, it’s another tool to be used. Knowledge providing more. Providing growth.

As always, the problem being too logical. I’m left in a world, either castrated or an outcast. Either way, disatisfied and bored.

‘Truly A Book To Capture It All’ – Review of Stoner by John Williams


He had wanted the singleness and the still connective passion of marriage; he had that, too, and he had not known what to do with it, and it had died. He wanted love; and he had had love, and had relinquished it, had let it go into the chaos of imagepotentiality.

Katherine, he thought. ‘Katherine.’

And he had wanted to become a teacher, and he had become one; yet he knew, he had always known, that for the most of his life he had been an indifferent one. He had dreamed of a kind of integrity, of a kind of purity that was entire; he had found compromise and the assaulting diversion of triviality. He had conceived wisdom, and at the end of the long years he had found ignorance.

Stoner by John Williams, page 285


Stoner, by John Williams, an usual book to start. But. Totally encapsulating. Containing so much feeling, meaning experience. I will give my review of the book, not really a formal review, but one looking and reflecting on the book, feeling and experience of reading it. I endeavour not to mention explicit spoilers, but I do mention my emotional experiences reading it and the emotions it passed onto me (the inspiration for my poem ‘Feelings Not My Own’)

Stoner, a book of an experience, an experience of fiction, but somewhat real. The feelings it portrays are totally real and totally thrust me into the story, caring, experiencing and feeling.

All of the poems that I wrote yesterday, took inspiration from the book, around the section of the above quote, I had to stop. To savour experiencing the end, the feeling, when I could concentrate and experience without distraction and reflect through this blogpost.

The feelings this book can capture and enstill on the reader, are immense, I would describe this book as an emotional rollercoaster. The feelings of love, happiness, existence and passion, but, at least for me, the book seems to emphasise negative feelings. But not ‘negative feelings’ in the conventional sense. I would describe these feelings as negative, but without feeling, a portrayal of the reality behind existence, the reality behind being, the existence of life, and one’s place within it. Here I shall endeavour to encapsulate my feelings and experiences in regards to the book in its totality:


The discovery and ecstacy of love, finding a crush, the feelings behind planning, the future and struggling and succeeding despite all adversity. The choices to be made in life, choices that make us, shape us, define us. The choices we make, the choices that aren’t owned by ourselves, until we make the decision. Then the choice becomes ours, becomes personal and meaningful. There is also the adversity of life not overcome, adversity in existence, the tiresome living, the hurting of family and friends, the loss of those we care for.

The watching as life rolls by, and we make what we can, leave our mark but inevitably fail to find conventional ‘happiness’, but, find a form of contentment out of the adversity, contentment with pain and dissatisfaction, not out of choice, but out of necessity to keep on living. The pain and somewhat helplessness in dealing with situations and people encountered in life.

The friendships made and kept and solidified through truth, adversity, hardship and mutual love and care. As life goes on, never enough time, never enough done, never enough success to make one feel full and content, nevertheless contentment and perseverence and change to overcome all adversity.

It is totally encapsulating a feeling I cannot express with words; a feeling of contentment out of unrelenting discontentment, of existing without achievement, but continuing to persevere for your aims and continue to keep journeying to achieve them, even if you never actually achieve them, you make the journey anyway and contently, live out your life with the aim in mind, the objective aimed for.

The book’s ending (from around page 285 until the end), I will try not to spoil (as much as I can while expressing my more affective ‘review’). One that encapsulates the book, the ending, a fitting end, one that captures and summarises the whole book, not in a repetitive manner, but one suitable to, in my opinion, its aimed portrayal, of life, without highlight of the good times, without hiding the bad times, but merely portraying human experience, in a way that truly resonated with me. The portrayal of sadness, closing, finality and happiness, dissatisfaction, reminiscing and also summarising and deep-contemplation. The very last page. Written to perfection. Even thinking of it, causes my eyes to well-up. A perfect, concise, summarised end. Like the finalities found in everyday living, without show, or celebration, without positivity or negativity, just sweet, maybe reluctant, but nevertheless final, end. Drifting off into silence. As the words on the page end with the final period… and then… silence.


A powerful story, I know that I paint a bleak picture of the novel, but, it is more than this. It’s more than the sum of its parts (not to mention the subjective experience of the reader that needs not be said). It is a book, not everyone will like, it’s writing is definitely unconventional, but I find this is its beauty, it captures reality, as nothing else does. Captures reality, much like my poetry does for me, and also the poetry I read from many others on WordPress. Capturing reality, for what it is. The highs of the good experience, the lows of the bad. The real life existence. The one we share, both content, and also discontent.

Although I say it’s a novel that not everyone will ‘like’, I would say that I think everyone should give it a read. I would unapologetically be happy to suggest this  novel to anyone I know, especially anyone I feel comfortable to talk to about personal and emotional matters.

To personally summarise this novel and my experience reading it in very few words:

A book that captures reality. For what it is.

 

 

I would like to write a note, to my very close friend who gifted this novel to me, inspirsation for ‘Little Gift From the Heart‘, thank you so very much for this book. I sure hope that you do not see this review, and if you do… that you do not think it too harsh, or feel the book’s been a saddening experience. It has been a realistic experience, a vicarious living and experiencing of a life, not my own. Yet also I see past experiences, events, ways of thinking also appear throughout this book, almost every couple of pages. This book was a mixed experience to read, but an invaluable one, and one I am a better person for reading. Thank you, thank you very much Ruby.

Most Influential Lines/Quotes

Just a list of quotes I like.

I’m not even a fan of tattoos, but anything were to be considered, it would be these.

“I would face my demons, just to help you face yours”
– ‘Nice’Guy

“When you know nothing matters, the universe is yours”
– Rick and Morty

“Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”
– Dylan Thomas

“He had no friends, and for the first time in his life he became aware of loneliness” – John Williams in his book ‘Stoner’

“If you can’t look on the bright side, I will sit with you in the dark.”

“In his forty-third year William Stoner learned what others, much younger, had learned before him: that the person one loves at first is not the person one loves at last, and that love is not an end but a process through which one person attempts another.” – John Williams in his book ‘Stoner’

“Alien to the the world, it had to live where it could not be at home” – John Williams in his book ‘Stoner’

“‘… think of all the time–‘. ‘I wouldn’t know what to do with it,’ Stoner said. ‘I’ve never learned.'” – John Williams in his book ‘Stoner’

“He had wanted the singleness and the still connective passion of marriage; he had that, too, and he had not known what to do with it, and it had died. He wanted love; and he had had love, and had relinquished it, had let it go into the chaos of potentiality.” – John Williams in his book ‘Stoner’