Carried by the wind, dissolved into darkness


Carried by the wind, dissolved into darkness.

The coolness licks and sweeps
past your skin
taking the first layer
of you into the sky

Another gust
tickling and swirling–
there you go, playfully
round and through the leaves

Gentle, softly
lifted, lightly
floating, gradually
higher, higher

A whistle
shooting you past
pastpastpast
everything

The biggest howl
all enveloping
lovingly embraces
sweeping the rest of you off the ground

And there’s nothing left
you’re everywhere and nowhere
permeating the world
and the dark of the night.

Changing Partners


I stay me. And you stay you.

The things I would do stay the same even if it’s someone else beside me.
Like spazzing out over furry plants and cactuses or pointing out eagles in the sky, I guess.

The things you would do stay the same even if it’s someone else beside you.
Like dressing up in yukatas and having lunch at sakae sushi, eating salmon and amaebi sushi.

It feels disconcerting– I used to do that with you, and now you’re doing it with someone else? But it’s inevitable, just the way it necessarily is. I shared myself with you, and now you’re gone, but I’m still here. I’m still me, and the things I share are still those things.

I’ve always wondered, for people who’ve had multiple bfs or gfs… what do you call them? Does the name stay the same? Isn’t strange though, if you called boyfriend A ‘baby’ and you call boyfriend B ‘baby’ as well?

And yet, how many terms of endearment can you cycle, huh? Besides, what if it’s a personal preference, it’s a term you like. You stay you. And the other person just changes and swops and cycles. The term you use is a part of who you are, and not an identity of the other.

I wonder if there are things that aren’t just you (with me tagging along) and aren’t just me (with you tagging along) but are us. Things unique to us. Things that can’t be cycled, can’t just swop in and out someone new. Things that we only did together, that we wouldn’t do with anyone else.

There must be, for surely a relationship is greater than the sum of its parts? For surely there is ‘you’, there is ‘me’, but there was also ‘us’?

I can’t remember, I”ve forgotten, I am forgetting.

When I look at our ‘things to do before we die!’ list, the items seem to fall neatly into the things you wanted to do, and the things I wanted to do. Of course, we’d thought we’d do them together, but you would still fly in a hot air balloon without me, and I am still set on climbing mountains and seeing the northern lights with or without you, or anyone else. Was there anything on the list that was truly something for us to do before we die?

We were waltzin’ together to a dreamy melody
When they called out “Change partners”
And you waltzed away from me
Now my arms feel so empty as I gaze around the floor
And I’ll keep on changing partners
Till I hold you once more

Introspection on introversion


They say that introverts have their energy sapped by social interaction and recharge with time spent alone.

It’s strange– there’s both a sense of ‘taking in’ lots of outside stimulus, and a sense of ‘putting out’ a lot of attention. I guess they amount to the same thing; in order to take in all the external stimulus, you have to give them a lot of attention.

It feels like I’m a sponge– it’s very easy to be passive and just soak in all the information, everything that is happening around. It’s much harder to ‘give out’ anything– to say or show or express. Hard to get stuff from inside to the external. Whereas for other people it happens effortlessly– every time they speak they show a little of their personality, a little of themselves. Some don’t even have to speak.

It feels like I’m a mirror– I try to reflect back what I see, what I ‘took in’. Playable catgut, pliable clay. Chameleon boy. A friend said, recently: I’m water, I take the shape of the container.

When I have all my attention on you – general you, plural you– I feel like I’m not in my own head. All my focus is on you, on you, on you. Trying to empathise, understand, see what you see, put myself in your shoes, on alert for any cues and clues for me to take in, wondering what you’re wondering, wondering how I appear to you. All that attention expanded is exhausting. What’s more, while that’s happening, there’s no one left in my head to think my thoughts. It’s hard to be me– when you ask me what I think, I think first about the answer from your point of view, and try to modulate. Of course, everyone does this to an extent (you’d describe your faith differently to a non-believer vs a believer; you’d talk about gay rights differently to a homophobe vs an activist) but is the difference normally so stark?

Things happen fast in the real world– there’s no time to think, to contemplate, to ponder, to ruminate. You just react. React. React.

When you don’t think– or when I don’t think– there’s no ‘I’. There’s no me thinking about what I’m thinking and why I’m thinking. There’s no metacognition. The me that is usually here talking to myself in my head doesn’t have time to be activated. It’s just… react, react, react. That… feels less like me.

It’s only when the activity stops, and I’m alone again, do I then feel like I’ve finally come back home, into my head, and I can think about the day and what has happened. Like the gears and thoughts and ‘me’ that have been on hold all day to concentrate on you, you, you can start moving again. Like you went out into the field to collect data — react, react, react– and now, with the day’s spoils in hand, you return, tired out, to your lab– your home ground, your headquarters– to examine and make sense of all the new data you now possess.

Which parts are acceptable and which parts should I aim to change? It can’t be good to be a chameleon boy, it can’t be good to be morning pipe smoke, playable catgut, pliable clay.

Of course, everything’s an exaggeration to an extent. Everyone has their own opinions, even if that opinion is pretty apathetic and easily influenced….

No. I’ve been moving away from that. There are things I feel strongly about, and I’m sure of those views. I won’t compromise on those and I will disagree with you.

But standing firm in your own head, on your own blog is so different from projecting your convictions in real life. If you attack, I’ll fight back but why remain lifeless unless provoked?

A never ending journey. I’m game. Next step.

Demon II


Dear demon,
I know you inside and out;
you don’t scare me. (Much).

Dear demon,
I can’t block out your whispers.
They swirl and lodge in my brain.
But I can ignore them as best I can–
Delegate them to background noise.

Background noises may eat at your soul
Slowly eroding away your sanity.
But at least they can’t reach controls
And I live to see another day.
(Although you tell me I don’t want to
and I half believe you.)

Background noises “disappear” as you acclimatize to them
Even though they’re always there, plaguing your subconscious.
“The secret is, I’m always angry.”
You could hope they’d fade for real, in time
But… how can you tell?

Dear demon,
I know you through and through;
you don’t scare me.
You are me.

You’re not external made internal
I’m not ‘demon-possessed’
(People who think otherwise–
out sourcing your ‘bad’ to demons and your ‘good’ to angels–
who are you then?)

You’re internal
made detached.
Filtered out and quarantined
Leaving just the sane for the world to see.

We all have demons
The only demons we ever need to battle
are ourselves.

Questions to Ask Yourself


If you are, then I'm happy for you.

or merely changed what you're running from?

If you don't trust yourself, you can't expect others to. And the basis of any human interaction and relationship is trust.

Lying to others is bad. But lying to yourself is far worse.

very, very much.

But if you've managed to do it, won't you teach me how?

I didn’t make these with the objective of posting them here, but was rather pleased with the results (yay more relatively successful attempts with watercolours) so I decided to share.