a still day or a hurricane

I was looking for another Erin Hanson’s poem when I chanced upon this one –

They say the things that finally break you
Are the words caught in your throat,
And she has years of thoughts not uttered
Crammed in the pocket of her coat.
A whisperer amongst a world
That’s learnt only to speak,
Where silence must be broken
For the proof that it is weak,
But wherein lies the weaknesses
Of keeping words held in your hand?
When others listen to reply
She listens just to understand.
Surely it’s strength when things unspoken
Fill the room up to the brim,
And she’s the only one among them
Who has taught herself to swim.

It was everything that I was feeling at this very moment. I have so much to say and it wasn’t that I lacked someone to say it to. But there was…no purpose in saying them out loud. A solution wasn’t needed and words of comfort will only have a temporary effect. Then it was as if I could not contain any more of these thoughts that I felt a yearning to write – to put thoughts into words, to put pain into print.

I finally logged on to wordpress after 10 years. Oh the things that have happened between 23 and 33. I marvelled at the significant and the insignificant. I also wondered about my adverse reaction to hold anything or anyone too close. I kept thinking about Icarus – what would he have done if he knew what would happen to him in the end?

Delete and Restart. Delete and Restart.

I’ve always chosen moments over memories. I choose not to be sentimental because life changes pretty quickly and I liked to think that if I focused on the now, I would not be missing out on living.  But now can be precious and worth remembering. I read The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion and I was taken aback by how much she remembers. The people, places and events. I struggle to even remember the dates of significant events, much less fleeting occurrences. It seems to me that I have failed to even treasure the now.

Have I been too careless? Or too arrogant? Do I not grasp on to things tightly enough because I’m afraid I’ll fly too close to the sun and my wings will melt and I’ll fall? Is this really living? Is this really enough?


For what it’s worth, it’s never too late, or in my case too early, to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit. Start whenever you want. You can change or stay the same. There are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you’ve never felt before. I hope you meet people who have a different point of view. I hope you live a life you’re proud of, and if you’re not, I hope you have the courage to start over again.

Perhaps it’s okay to take Benjamin Button’s advice and start over again.

Published by crabapplekid

An alien let loose on this insane planet.

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