Against The River Flow

Against the river flow,
Sad to see,
Sad to hear,
Sad to feel.

Sad to know,
Solitude in my drift,
Against the river flow,
Going for kindness,
To be there for others,
And I do it alone.

Walk the path,
A lonely drift,
A twig, alone,
Going against the river flow.

Seeing all flow past,
Walking down this path.

Current always pushing against.
Against me in this river’s flow.
Knowing I’m always alone.

Writing this about kindness, consideration. As I look back, seeing the path walked, always being used, an easy for others to get comfort. Always trying to help. I get used and left.

A path I walk, and know I walk it alone. Only to be used when needed, and left alone. Hating yet I continue to walk as life tears, and walk it alone.

Blog on Value and Deception

A quick blog but more really a note to myself.

I’ve never believe I’ve been smart even though I am told endlessly by everyone. I accept it when people tell me but never really believe it. Kind of (but also slightly different) like when people say I’m nice, I accept it (but what is different is that I know I’m nice and totally hate it with a passion hence I wish I was more like Negan from the Walking Dead, quick summary of him, a person who is badass, if he doesn’t like someone then he gets what he wants no matter what affect it has on anyone).

One quick aside, even over Christmas I met a close friend’s uncle (I think), got on with him really well and I was warned he’d ask me loads and loads of questions (and he did) one of the many was ‘are you smart?’. My answer as usual is, “kind of, but I cannot really be the judge of that” and then to go on how everyone is smart in their own right (something I wrote about on a different blog, a more academic one I have on WordPress).

Studying history at university you very occasionally come across people who seem to have encyclopaedic knowledge on random or niche topics. I must be one of them but never thought of it like that. What brought this up earlier today, was a friend told me their topic and I recommended a film I studied prior and they having researched their topic hadn’t come across that film that fits their entire topic perfectly, looking at gender, and class in courtship between 1930 and 1940. I picked a ‘perfect film’.

And through my whole academic studies from the start of secondary school to now doing a Masters, many, many classmates have always asked me and even specifically me questions about the course, assessment and stuff, I mean at me personally through direct message. My friend, or the two friends I helped today I know it’s okay and they didn’t ask and it wasn’t a problem for me. As most. I just like helping as I have this stuff in my head and I may as well make use of it if it’s taking up space in my head.

This leads me to the less optimistic part. I have been used many times since the start of secondary school I have been used for my head. Not that I really ever realised. That’s a bit I need to improve upon. Seeing through the most terrible people who merely think of themselves, use to their own ends and discards. People who are my antithesis in how I think.

My antithesis because I help because helping is good, it’s usually easy and non-costly, and even when it has been I often do it anyway. But it’s hard to see in my own head that’s not how others work.

I will not change how I help people, without expectation of gain. But I will keep an eye out and not offer help to those unkind, hurtful, accusation all, manipulative and self-seeking.

The problem comes, at least for me, to tell the difference. To give kindness to those who deserve it. To leave those who don’t To their own lives.

I am feeling okay, this blog post, may not be riveting, but has been very personal and cathartic for me. I hope someone else finds something of use in this.

Moments of Lies

Moments of lies,
A person who all they said,
A lie.
Myself always convincing myself,
A lie.

Many friends,
Trying to shine a truth,
Through the darkness,
Others, strangers I barely knew.
Should have taken heed.
To save the manipulation.
The reaching into my mind,
Taking all of use.
Before smashing and discarding the rest.
Broken, useless, on the cold hard floor.

At the time,
Waiting to end,
Waiting to break,
Accepting my

But not anymore,
That is not mine,
That is the fate they planned for me.
I will get up and run.
Move on and past,
In defiant.

The worst of those,
In this world.
Need to be shown.
That the worst will not succeed.
There is a light for all those who show it.
With darkness…
Awaiting those who don’t.

A shroud of lies,
A moment,
Made clear.
A truth revealed.
Of evil people,
Terrible lies,
Dastardly plans,
And a truth of life to defeat them.

Mistaken Kindness

Mistaken kindness.
Both my own, and another’s.

A mistake,
One I should have seen,
Should have known.
The past revealed before me,
The mistake made once, twice and now again.

Placing trust in a snake.
A twisted thorn.
One seeking use and hurt,
Mistaking kindness for staking claim.

Mistaken kindness,
Placed in another.
My mistake.
Trusting those who cannot be.
When the past showed the deep chasms.
The war within my mind.
My kindness trying to shine,
My mind warning me away.
Friends questioning the path walked again.

There are some questions,
To be asked of some.
How do you sleep at night?
How do you ever be at peace?
Should you be?

Mistaken kindness,
For wicked intentions.
A false face,
Lies all abound.

A facade of trust when lies are all there is.
A facade of kindness, when usability is all there is.
An act if what there is, when the truth isn’t to be seen.

A mistaken kindness.
Shining on but one point.
A warning,
To place kindness,
Only when it is shown,
Only when deserved.

To avoid mistakes.
Aches, pains and scars.

From mistaken kindness.

Will Not Be Missed

I will not miss the harsh words,
Hateful remarks
Ridiculing and lack of care.

The hurtful, will not be missed.
They thrive on others’ manipulate and break,
On and on along a warpath.

Do not miss,
The hurtful,
For they will receive what they give out.
A hope for their payment for their hurtfulness.

They will not be missed.
Those who crush others for pleasure.
Those who.
String others along.
Use, hurt, abuse, and manipulate.

It is fine,
It is simple,
Time heals all wounds,
Time sees that wounds inflicted are wounds also received.

Time. The true enforcer.
And the survivors,
Just need to remember,
The pain, will not be missed.

That Time

That time,

That time you called me,
I was busy, but made time.
Everyone else at the party, looking, wondering.
I made time,
You were alone,
You were stressed and hurting.
I made time, that time.

Many other times.

Now I am next to you and you leave me, ignore me.
Feel like an extra part.
I know I’ve been used. Know I’m the extra part.

But know that one time.
I felt something.
Maybe it was just me, and it wasn’t there.

You’ve left me.
When I was always there for you.

That other time,
You upset,
I on the phone,
Just walked home,
You called drunk,
Not wanting to drink alone.
I changed and walked back,
We laughed, we sang, we joked, and played around
I was there.
You weren’t.
Those messages, snapchats and statuses,
About me,
To make another jealous.

I pretended not to notice.
I pretended it was fine,
Still do
Not mentioned it.
Not to hurt you.
Not to be hurt by you.
I cared,
That other time.
You used me.

Bursting to tears now.
In public,
Next to you,
As you still continue to use me.
Still continue to have me as an extra part.

I cared.
I care.
I hurt.
That time.