Now that I’ve decided to get back to daily posts, I thought why not continue with looking back at old posts. So, if you feel like it, read my blathering of what I was thinking for these early postadays.
I had gotten to a point where I was dwelling on all the negativity a bit too much. I had been working at my new job for about 2 months, and I wasn’t going to be going for the second year of my program in the fall. I was still (in my opinion), pretty poor at my job, and there was a new employee who had been hired for the same thing, and being much more competent than me. Thus, the need for rose-coloured glasses. Sure, it’s not good to always be painting the world as an idyllic version of itself, but every once in a while, you need to just let yourself be your own cheerleader, even sometimes beyond what you truly believe you can do, just to get past those boulders.
This piece was written a year or so before, and I just posted it due to lack of ability to think of anything. But, I’ve always had a fascination with waterfalls. For the longest time I think I might have honestly believed dragons lived behind them. Living in British Columbia, there are a decent number of waterfalls (most just small ones), and I even had one on the property I grew up on. It’s where we got our water from. I still sometimes miss how that water tasted. It was so sweet. I remember one friend in particular who would be so excited to drink our water because she said it just tasted so good.
Having watched too many cartoons, I always thought of characters crying waterfalls, thus innately thinking of waterfalls as something emotional. But then, they are also so loud and aggressive. It’s like this controlled mass of different emotions (sorry a bit dramatic). And me being prone to personifying everything, that’s the long and the short of the general idea behind this poem. I do indeed say it is very simple and not particularly exciting, but I still do love waterfalls.
This piece seems pretty transparent, though mildly convoluted and just a bunch of circles. Having drank a lot of tea, kettles are on my mind a lot, and there is definitely a tension when your waiting on it, in dire need of your cup of tea, and it seems to take so long, and it slowly gets louder and louder, until it clicks, and almost in an instant it’s silent. I will not divulge too much, but let’s be honest, I was grumpy at someone but saw it was my own fault (as it probably usually is).
66. Heart of Gold
I did write this a while ago, so I might not quite remember correctly, but I believe I just did a random image search which came up with a shiny gold heart, and thought I should write about it, and this is what my adlibbing brought me. I feel like some of the older pieces were almost more like song lyrics than what I write now. I also just really like pirates, and the word pyrite.
And here’s that picture I was talking about (used on the linked post).
I have always found the idea of war a fascinating one, but in particular, the psychology of it. I would think, there are not many people out there who can easily kill another human being. And though it might be easier when for a cause or when one is instructed versus by their own choice, I still feel it wouldn’t sit right. When a war is beat, does one celebrate from destroying an enemy? Or it just being over? Either way (or another entirely), there is something very solemn and dark about a field after a war.