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Showing posts from May, 2010

Awake.

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Credit:  Janita_22 I kind of feel like this today. At least the sun is shining in that picture.  

Rain.

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Credit:  gareth saunders It's raining outside.  It's been raining since late afternoon. I love the rain. I love the sound of rain. Especially the sound of rain on the tin roof of my parents' house. Evenings are the worse. Especially the time between 17h00 and 19h00, because that's the time when my dad used to come home from work. But he's never coming home again. Never . I hate finality. The time of day when I used to spend the most time with my dad, was after 17h00; after work.  After dark.  That's why I miss him the most when the sun starts to set. It's really, really hard .  But sometimes the rain helps. It's kind of like a natural type of 'tears' which comes from the earth. The song "I'll do my crying in the rain" (Aha) comes to mind and has a whole new meaning to me. If it rains tomorrow, you'll find me outside .

today.

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(photo credit:  sticky mango )                  Today I want to stay in this bed.  Somewhere far away from home. Alone . When I look out that door, I want to see, smell and almost feel the ocean . I want books - books to write in, books to read . And tea.  And freshly made sandwhiches, when I want them. And my cat. I can't be bothered with the rest of the world.  

Concrete.

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Someone once made a sculpture of me. First, I was bodycast with plaster. Then the seperate casts were moulded with concrete. Little holes were made in all the bodyparts. Then the pieces were stitched together with rope. For now I'm still holding on; but if I should fall apart?  Please stitch me together again. It's been done before.

In limbo.

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Credit: Troy Ziel I'm not sure where I am at the moment.  My life feels like it belongs to someone else.   I'm not sure if I'm supposed to start over. Or do I try to go on? A fundamental change like your dad dying is one of the weirdest things that can happen to you.  You don't know how you feel. Am I sad?  Am I devestated? Am I lost ? All I know is that I find it hard to concentrate, on anything. I find it hard to do things, unless I totally force myself. My brain has stopped working in a sense. It's like it has shut itself down , to protect me. Am I going to fall apart at some stage? Am I suppressing emotions because I don't know how to handle them? Am I ok? How am I supposed to go on with my life?  It has only just started. How am I supposed to comfort my mother , who has lost her husband. How am I supposed to comfort my sister , who has lost her father. How am I supposed to comfort my brother , who has lost his dad. Am I supposed to comfort them? Do I need

Keep going.

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This morning I slept in, got up, made breakfast for my husband and my brother, and came home.  We've spent the past week with my mom at her house (which is - luckily - just around the corner from us).  It is great being with my mother, and I know I'll spend a lot of time with her, at her house, in the time to come. Just like I always did, anyway.  Her (their) house will always , in a way, feel like home. But it was nice to come home.  To my new home.  I've just gotten used to living in my new home with my husband.  It started to feel like ' my ' house, my nest, the three of us - him, me and our cats.  A new, extra special family.   The sun is shining today and I went for a run.  I bought a pedometer and I ran for 20 minutes, taking a few hundred steps. Running is good , and necessary .  And yes, I'm counting the steps I take each day, because I'm taking each day one step at a time.  This is what coping means to me. Counting steps, for now.  I'm not

Loss.

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  My mother and father when they were younger My father passed away on Friday, 14 March 2010.  He was still at work when he had a massive heart attack, collapsed, and died.  We were able to spend time with him there, in the lab where everything happened, to say goodbye.  It feels so far away and so far fetched and so unreal still.  This is not a tribute - there is too much to say and my heart is too full.  This is just to let the world know, in a way.  He was 64 years old; a very young 64 and he was very excited about his retirement and all the things he and my mother would do together.   The funeral was yesterday.  It was one of the hardest days of my life.  This whole week was pretty much the hardest time I've had to go through, ever.  We are such a close-knit family.  And now one of us has left. I thank God for the honour of being able to say that Andre Smit was my father. He was a phenomenal person.  He was a legend. We will miss him so very much.  His place will always

Cry.

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Do you ever just feel like crying?   I do.  Especially tonight.  I'm not even sure why, but a cry would be good. I feel sad.  Hopeless.  Lonely .  Lost.  Hopefully tomorrow I'll feel better . Picture by Alex Brown

Today I fell in love with a song.

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I heard this song on the radio while I was driving home today.  I just had my last class of this semester, and I was feeling quite weird.  Half of my year as a student is over, in a way, and I'm not sure how to feel about it.  So it could be that my weird mood was the reason I was so open for this song to affect me - nevertheless, when I heard it, I turned up the volume and let myself be taken away - far, far away.   It's a great song.  It makes you FEEL .   The fact that it plays in one of the Twilight movies is just an added bonus :) Listen to it here: Civil Twilight - Letters from the sky

So I danced my way into my 30's.

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What a fantastic way to start yet a new chapter of my life.  Welcome 30's, I can't wait to get to know you better.  I know you're going to give me lots to think about, lots to do, lots to appreciate along the way - and I'm ready!  One thing is for sure though, I'm going to continue to celebrate life!  (even if it means that I wake up with blue knees the morning after!)   This is me and my friend, Amelia, dancing the night away.

Meaning

Meaning     I won't use words again     They don't mean what I meant     They don't say what I said     They're just the crust of the meaning     With realms underneath     Never touched     Never stirred     Never even moved through     If language were liquid     It would be rushing in - Suzanne Vega, "Language"