Confliction

Confliction, confusion.

The world made bright.

Fearful of the end,

Broken, yet simultaneously saved.

Mixture of feeling, confused.
Happy and also sad,
Missing something.
My ability to comprehend.

My ecstatic excitement filled,
While also fearful worry lingers,

My bipolar shifts from happiness, to worry, to sadness, to happiness.
All offering painful confusion.

Shaken to the core,
Worried yet also happy.

Sad to the confliction of my predicament.
Sad to my required bipolar world.

The place that confines me.

The feelings that control, use, abuse and break me.

Tearing my mind apart.

The confliction;
I am happy.
I am sad.
I am worried.
I am excited, enthusiastic, embarrassed and apprehensive.

A plethora of feeling
Opposites, simultanously felt.
My feelings wrapping themselves around me,
Holding me tightly,
Constricting,

Ripping me apart.

Leaving me confused.

Leaving me with conflict.

Emotions. A roller-coaster.
An ever-moving shift.
Hurtful, yet happy.
Sad, yet also happy.

The feelings I cannot explain,
The emotions I cannot control.

My life controlled without my understanding.

The confliction, my emotions, thoughts and feelings.

I am happy.
I am sad.
I am in conflict.
I am… Me.

Pleasant Surprise

Pleasant surprise,

Nice intervention,

A world from anew,

A place not seen before.

The crazy, excited, ecstatic feeling.

The kindness and intelligence.

A world shown.

Thrown from my own,

Complete surprise.

Through this contentment.

A crazy revelation,

Crazy existence.

My place.

The crazy feeling.

Ecstatic and total. Crazy and looms

‘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.

Your Kindness, Your Care,

Your kindness and care,

You offer, it’s comfort surrounds me,

Compliments the concurrent pain.

I appreciate it, but it still provides pain.

It’s funny, this simultaneous kindness, care and pain.

I love it, I hate it,

But I love you,

In vain, but that’s the fact, that’s the reality.

Seeing you happy, in whatever form that takes,

That means the world to me,

I would do anything to help,

Even if it causes me more pain.

That help you may gain from it,

Would make it worth it.

The pain, kindness and care,

All supplementing one another.

 

I cannot offer much, but kindness, care and love.
But that is me,
No matter how you hate it.
That is me.
No matter how you don’t want it.

I will be around, to offer this kindness and care.

If you ever want, ever need.

This is me,
My Kindness
My Care.

Strung Along

Strung along,

Been given a glimpse,

Yanked away at a moment’s notice,

Pained, hurt, alone.

Being strung along,

An extra piece,

An attachment,

Need to let go,

Need to leave,

To learn from past mistakes,

From the pain.

Been strung along.

A mere afterthought.

The lack of care,

Lack of kindness,

Lack of feeling.

Being strung along.

Guardian

I’ll always be there,

Even if we stop talking,

Will always keep an eye out.

I’ll always catch you when you fall,

Pick you up when down,

Listen when you need to talk

Advise when you need another opinion.

 

No matter who you leave me for,

No matter how much you hurt me,

No matter how much you don’t care.

I will be there.

A guardian,

Always looking out for you,

My little Fox.

Your Sweet Compliment

Your sweet compliment,

Words to warm my soul,

Fill my heart with glee.

Make me feel wanted,

Valued,

Cared about.

My, oh my, your sweet compliment,

Turns me spinning around,

High on excitement,

Gleeful and joyous.

I am sorry I cannot compliment you

Your presence is a compliment on life,

A reminder of the good.

No compliment an capture my feeling,

No words can say.

What I want to say,

To you.

Your sweet compliment.

Fills me with warmth.

Your sweet compliment.

No Good For Me

You’re no good for me,

Always there, even as it hurts.

As it kills me.

Need to realise,

Sometimes those clicks,

Those moments of clarity,

Given me pain,

Hurt.

Gone.

Am I blind to what you do?

Why do I walk into your knife.

Why do I do this?

Again.

And.

Again.
I will get through,

Hopefully without you.

As you are no good for me.

Changing Song

That changing song, the worried mind.

The unsteady being,

The erratic beathing,

That hurtful beating.

That changing core,

Throbbing mind.

All with this changing song being sung.

The tearing of my heart,

But sad, for that lack of bleeding.

That ripping feeling.

The pain without that end.

I don’t want much.

Won’t ask too much.

Give me this.

This change of song.

This silent end.