Archives For Stories

Its ok

July 15, 2016 — 31 Comments

holding-on-letting-go

Do you have someone you just can’t quit? They’re like your bad habit that you keep picking up after you’ve sworn you were done?

Are they across town right now getting into their car to come over after you both said that last night was the last night? Or are they sitting beside you now as you have ‘that conversation’ again when you both know that tomorrow night he’ll be across town getting into his car to come over…

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The end

February 16, 2016 — 67 Comments

 

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I don’t know why I stopped writing in the first place…
And that ladies and gentlemen is what you call a lie. I do know why I stopped writing but with all things regrettable, lies come to our aid on horses that can gallop faster than those carrying the truth.
So the truth? Well I don’t want to say. Thats why I didn’t.
I don’t even want to now but lets just get it over with and i’ll tell you what happened. 

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Beetle and The Spider

December 11, 2014 — 32 Comments

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It was late and the bottle of wine was slowly emptying and the tongues of cigarette smoke licked my cheeks as they rose and assembled in haze above us. We said we hoped it would rain.
There are not many things that go together like lateness and wine and rain on a tin roof.
So when it rained we drank more wine and I told stories and said silly things.

And then there was Beetle.

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Dearests,
My dad has passed away quite suddenly and thrown the world into a shambles. Please bear with me as I take some time off to do the things daughters have to do when their fathers go away.

I’m still here, I’m just going to be a little quiet for a little time…

Thank you for sticking around,
Yours,
Vanessa

365

600 days! I’ve been a ghost over the last few months, but I have been very much still walking through these 1000 single days and can confirm that I am still as pure as the driven snow, I have made it to day 600 with celibacy still firmly in tact! Yahoo!
I have been neglecting the blog due to the fact that I have been holidaying in New Zealand having the best summer of my entire life. I have never been so happy and have been busy with incredible experiences and I am sorry that I haven’t published an update in so long but hey, I knew the freedom and carefree time of summer would make sticking to the single days pledge a bit harder so I have taken to keeping myself very busy to stay distracted. Oh, I have so many things to tell you about though and have been chipping away on a post when I find spare moments and will try and get that up in the next few days.

I am more content and happy now than I have ever been, now lets get the last 400 days over and done with!

Losing count…

November 3, 2013 — 29 Comments

Where are we? Do the days ever matter anymore?
Have I lost count? Yes.
When? I don’t remember. Probably around the time that I realized that it wasn’t about the days anymore, it wasn’t about counting down as if day 1000 was the goal. That day 1000 may never come just as tomorrow may never come as just as planning for the future keeps us facing the future, you cant place the future on a pedestal as being the point. Because it isn’t the point.

Now is the point. Just now.

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Half way baby

October 19, 2013 — 16 Comments

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I cant believe the date passed me by and I didn’t know it! On October 19th it was day: 500
My mother said that it has been so long since I had written and people may think I have ‘fallen off the wagon’ so to speak so before I go home now and write to you all properly I want to celebrate this moment with you and just let you know that there has been no falling off any wagon. I have just done 500 single days as true as I had promised I would on day one.
I have so much to tell you, oh so much! If I have learned anything these past 500 days it would be this: Life can change in a moment.
My next post will go into all the details and I will begin writing that now. HALF WAY BABY!

Its been so long since I really wrote anything and for a while it was because I felt too far away from my own mind to do so, and then when I came back to my mind I found so many thoughts collected there, and just like standing before a scattered deck of cards, I didn’t know where to begin sorting through it all so I just stood there and stared at it all for weeks.
All those thoughts…

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I decided I would walk back to my Hotel that day, even though I had spent all day and most of my money shopping and my shoulders were aching from the weight of the bags. Flagging down a tuk-tuk would made the trip quick and easy and with the unbearable heat rising up from the sidewalk and bouncing off the city walls and radiating down from above it is a wonder I chose to walk that day but at the time I decided that I would like to wander through the alley ways and stalls and nod my head in greeting to the people of Sukhumvit Road and thats all it was at the time. But it is only in retrospect that we see the significance of seemingly small decisions such as these. We don’t realise how our preferences, no matter how small, act as the fingers and the palms and the curves and the creases of hands to clay on a spinning potters wheel. Every single movement, no matter how slight changes the shape of the clay… just as every step favoured over the other, or every appointment made in favour of the previous day, or the day after can alter the shape of our life.

And so with choosing to drag those heavy bags upon my tired shoulders on weary legs through the streets of Bangkok that day I didn’t know that it would mean meeting him, and in meeting him, I didn’t know it would change something in me for the rest of my life.

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Things.

June 15, 2013 — 41 Comments

Things that can make me happy:
Orange juice
Watching someone try to whistle after getting a tooth filling
Knowing all the words to a song
Olive oil
The smell of the smoke after you blow out a match
The way my son doesn’t believe that I understand his jokes
The sing-song way the women talk in old movies
Spagetti
Fire
Films that change my life
Photographs of people doing something they always wanted to do
Live music
That cows have best friends

Things that can’t make me happy:
Things.

365

One year passes me by. And yes, I have remained true.
635 days to go….

Life can be cruel, but it is cruel and hard on everyone in different ways. If you grew up in a shitty environment with people who treated you with disdain and cruelty and down right neglect and abuse then this is horrible. Its understandable to be hurt and then battle with confusion and disfunction as a result through your childhood and teenage years but you know what? Come adulthood turn and face that thing head on.
There is nothing that no scumbag mum or dad or uncle or upbringing can do to truly defeat you unless at some point you give up, and if you give up because it was all too much, then maybe no one could even fault you for that, but if you use that scum bag of a father or scumbag of a mother or scumbag of an upbringing to then JUSTIFY treating another human being with neglect and abuse and generally being a scum bag yourself, then you have lost a leg to stand on.
Man up/woman up and learn about accountability.
The greatest men and women in our history have created that history with nothing more than the memories of tragedy/abuse/loss/stolen innocence and an understanding that at some point you have the choice to either stop the cycle, or to keep being a scumbag.
Dont be a scumbag.

Small

April 23, 2013 — 161 Comments

“Your blog has gone kinda quiet of late” He said. “I know” I said.

So here I am, with nothing much to say but with a sense that I should say it anyway.

I write this now from a plain. You know whenever you embark on something they all say to you ‘oh you will see the mountains and you will see the plains’ So this must be the plain. I wish there was a way to write a shrug of the shoulders. You know? When someone asks you how you are or how you’re doing and you don’t speak, you just shrug your shoulders? This post is a shoulder shrug. Its a blah. Its plain.
I credit this to one thing. Depression. Continue Reading…

I can remember a conversation I had, that unbeknown to me at the time, would one day shape my entire attitude towards life and make some of the most painful and challenging and testing experiences that were yet to happen, bearable. And not just bearable, but valuable.
It was only 8 words in response to a question I posed to my mother, but I knew even at the time by the way the words struck me dumb that I had heard something that was significant and somehow, would shape me.

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Marina Abramovic and Ulay started an intense love story in the 70s, performing art out of the van they lived in. When they felt the relationship had run its course, they decided to walk the Great Wall of China, each from one end, meeting for one last big hug in the middle and never seeing each other again…

At her 2010 MoMa retrospective Marina performed the brilliant piece ‘The Artist Is Present’, a 736-hour and 30-minute static, silent piece, in which she sat immobile in the museum’s atrium, while spectators were invited to take turns sitting opposite her. Ulay arrived without her knowing and this is what happened.

I post this for my own Ulay.

Sometimes I play a game.
In the game you guess the lives of the strangers around you. For example the man using the pay phone with the glasses on the end of his nose is a security guard who stands in front of his full length mirror at night quick drawing his walkie talkie and quoting from ‘Lethal weapon’.

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So where was I? Oh yes. We had just finished living at the quarry, and then we were moving.

Do you know anyone who has lived on a farm? Yes? How about someone who lived on a farm, but in a bus? Yes? Ok, well then do you know anybody who lived on a farm, in a bus, with circus performers? No? Well let me tell you the next part of this story so that you can finally say that you do in fact know someone who lived on a farm, in a bus, with circus performers.
I don’t know why we moved from the quarry I really don’t remember. I wonder who initiated the move?
My mother? Did she get tired of pulling her kids down from precarious cliff faces? Was the dust getting to her?
Or was it my father? Did he grow bored of living in that quarry? Was it too unoriginal? Did he want a more curious address?
Well for whatever the reason was, all I know is that the next chapter of our life was… interesting.

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I thought I would tell you the very strange and curious story of the baby named Baby. Some of the things you are about to read will sound too strange to be true, but it is this story that will prove that sometimes truth can indeed be stranger than fiction, and I know that everything in this story is true, as the baby is me, and the story is mine.

I call this tale, “The baby named Baby.”

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Qualification: Pain

September 23, 2012 — 212 Comments

Her file is heavy, thick and pregnant with the details of over a decade of brokenness, pain, confusion and hopelessness.
I have been watching her for four days while she wanders though the hallways and the courtyard like a ghost without a plan. She breathes and moves and sees and knows to pause for the food cart and to step aside for a busy nurse, yet there is no one home. She is alive yet not alive. Not living, just existing.
In the hope I might be able to understand what would cause a woman so young to be so burdened, I pull her file and begin to read. I open up the transcript of her most recent admission interview. It makes no sense, her words are strung against words which were never meant to be partnered, it is nonsense and it is tragic. A woman admitted so mentally ill and tormented that the only verbal response she can give to any question is one that describes the fear of death and the certainty that the world is at an end. ‘Even if I tell you my name I will die
Diagnosis: Schizophrenia.

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My time is running out

September 21, 2012 — 143 Comments

These words are about the most precious thing in the whole world. The only thing on the face of the planet that is truly priceless. The thing that dying men beg for, rich men try and barter for, and yet it can neither be granted nor purchased. It destroys gardens and pathways and footprints and castles and empires and memories. It turns rocks into sand, turns black hair grey. Rubies lose their hue in comparison to it and diamonds lose their glitter when shadowed by it and the thing is more valuable and sought after than both combined. It discriminates between no man, no race, no gender, no social status. Oh does your father own the bank? Is your grandmother related to royalty? It means nothing.

It presses holes into the soles of our shoes, draws lines upon our face, closes wombs and weakens bones. It quenches love and creates legacy…
What is it that could possibly have this power? To make and break kings? To be both the father and the reaper of life?

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