It may get hairy…

Archive for April, 2012

What if…

Here it comes again. Serious time, sorry okes. Let’s just hope this one doesn’t come with any repercussions. To any who read this, this isn’t a message, I promise, there are no hard feelings, I do understand, more than you can imagine and I don’t mind discussing it, this is just something that needs to be let out to the cyberverse: 

What if something terrible happened to you? Something terrible happens to you, you deal with it. You pick yourself up, brush yourself off, go through the stages and move on. Easier said than done, but what if you can’t deal with it? What if you have to keep quiet to prevent others from hurting? What if, you can’t move on?

What if people forgot something terrible happened to you?

Words have meaning and sometimes those meanings are thrust upon us like fists in the night. Hypothetically: You know someone who was murdered – after you find out, you’ll never use the word without understanding the connotations. You don’t flippantly say ‘I could murder a hotdog,’ because now murder means so much more to you. If you are relating a movie, a news story or anything involving the word ‘murder,’ where you have to use it, the word becomes heavy. You can’t help but pause before it, or rush through it. In the mere fact of trying to say the word without inflection, you bring attention to it. The word now has impact and saying it loosely becomes impossible.

What if people you loved and who loved you, used a word like that flippantly…forgetting it’s impact on you. Forgetting that something terrible happened to you.

What if you’re watching a movie, and, as thrillers do, they draw a ‘murder’ out, painstakingly driving what happened back into your skull? You sit there, willing your face not to give you away. You don’t blink, you don’t move, you keep your eyes on the screen and you beg your actions not to reveal the anguish you’re feeling. You know eyes are on you, checking to see if it affects you. You will yourself to forget, just for that moment, so you don’t bring the terror back into the room with you.

What if you turn around afterwards, to find no one watching you, but sipping tea quietly, or joking about the football? What if no one was watching you, caring about its effect on you? What if they forgot?

Not being able to talk, or missing a few steps in the process, like acceptance and memory, means that it doesn’t go away. You can’t pick yourself up and move on, as much as you try. It sits there, like a festering wound in the back of your mind and heart, reopening itself when the ‘word’ is mentioned. You move forward, but not on. You do every day tasks, you laugh, you love, you live, but it’s there, like an anchor to the past. Never letting you forget.

So how can others?


‘appy but ‘ectic post

Hello all 🙂

Finally, the time has come for a happy post.

Today I shall be the headless chicken, but all in aid of a drunken cause. Today we prepare to don our Splash Fen hats and hit the road. My mate and I shall be working there from Wednesday, so naturally we’ll arrive on Tuesday, to ensure our pickled livers stay pickled.

It’s been a whole bloody decade since I last went to Splashy. It was there that I met a naked old man, with a multi-coloured dog (spray-painted, poor bugger), swimming in a river. The quintessential Splashy story.

Me @ the last festival I went to (Download, 2010), what makes you think I wasn't exactly sober?

Today, I must run to the shops to buy buckets of cat food, to support my monsters while I’m away. Although we’re doing the supplies trip tomorrow, my personal supplies shall be bought today, like batteries (for my camera, you dirty bastards) and headache tablets (pretty sure I don’t want to be doped up on  my morphine pills when there, so Panado is a must).

In addition, I have to send off emails to various clients, explaining where I am (a work expo, obviously), chase for money, do all the work that needs to be done this week in one day and clean my bloody house.

How all this will happen, Darwin knows, but I’ll manage. Perhaps the house cleaning will fall short once again.

So, from now on, do not expect coherent posts…in fact, if anyone sees me about to post anything from my phone, take it. Quickly.

We’re doing Splashy in comfort (out of necessity and a lack of camping gear) – we’re taking a freaking sleeper couch 😀 Yup, that’s right. It’s an old foam mattress that flops into a couch and squishes into the back of a car. It takes some pushing, and you’d do yourself a favour to put the handbrake on first, especially when facing a downhill, as I accidentally found out a while back. It’s alright, I James Bond’d that bitch, chasing it down the hill and flying into the driver’s seat 🙂

I have my hat for sun and my docs for rain, what more could we need? If you need me after Thursday morning, I shall be passed out somewhere, hopefully on my sleeper couch, if not, please move me into the shade. I burn.


Before I disappear and on a side note:  I seem to have received a lot of calls/messages about my previous post, which I found interesting. Perhaps it was because people wanted to cement the fact that they’re my friends (and perhaps that the post wasn’t aimed at them), which I find rather sweet and thank everyone. I think the post before was more melancholy, but either way, I wanted to let the world know that although I’m disappointed in the people targeted in my previous post, I’m not wallowing in a vat of self-pity. The only time it crosses my mind is when I’m not busy and/or get some form of reminder, however, this does not ruin my day. So you haven’t any reason to fret – although I really appreciate the support and kindness.

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