Friday, 30 August 2013

What does your life mean?

[Though when I say 'your', I really mean 'my'.]



Loads of inspiration at the beach today. Am about to sit down and bang it all out, but I have a lot of worries that I need to breathe out into this blog first.

My parents aren't going to be around one day.

I get that now. I understand that I will still be living my life, making decision and friends, doing my job, doing my best to be happy and make others happy, and they won't be there to talk to if I am sad, I won't be able to hear my Dad joking with me, I can't hear my mother's soothing voice, I can't share my joy with them when something good happens, I can't say, 'look at what I did!' or 'look at this book I (highly tempted to say 'writ'... it almost rhymes) wrote!', I can't give them more reasons to be proud of me and not feel like I was a miserable, wayward daughter, because they won't be there. This won't mean a damn to you.

I know I always said I'm never going to have children, and I'm highly skeptical of relationships, but I can see why people go through it. The fear of loneliness is paralysing. If you've lost your family, why not start your own?

I have endless brothers and sisters though, some that I don't even know about. It's so, so bizarre to think that they hold a fragment of my (my father's) genes and may pass them on. But it's my parents who make, or rather complete, the family. Dada and Mama talk easily about 'when they die' - they've lived their life, they've long accepted that it will one day be time for them to go. I'm 20 and I can't fucking accept that. I am such a fucking emotional wreck already that it might realistically destroy me. I don't want to watch them deteriorate.

Sorry for the swear. I feel like crying. (Okay I'm lying. Just wiped away my tears.)

On the drive back from the beach, Dada spoke about his parents heritage, about how my great grandfather came from the Ashanti tribe, in Ghana I think (will need to double check that) and was supposedly the caribbean equivalent of royalty. That stuns me. My Dad exaggerates sometimes (then again who else could I ask?) but he doesn't lie. I already knew that my ancestors were, by the standards of the time, wealthy. Royalty? Interesting.

Now look at me. Waiting for my student loan to come through so that I can have a smile on my face. Because, as you know, money is magic.

My grandparents and greats will never know that their son's son had me, that I am sitting here typing about them on a machine they could never have even imagined. This sort of thing tears me the fuck up. (Sorryfortheswear.) My brain, my stupid brain, can't stop turning it over. Also, this depressingly beautiful/beautifully depressing Heavenly Sword soundtrack is probably not helping... (endingcredits)

Awwwww laptop power run out... hang on while I get the cord...
Slightly lost my train of thought now...

Sometimes the world feels huge. Sometimes it feels so small. I feel like I have power to do anything when I'm elated. At other times, I am nothing, nobody, swept away in fifty years to be forgotten and replaced by another billion humans.

I can't help it. I know one day I will mean nothing, but I do want to feel that I made a difference while I was here, maybe changed the world for the better? On the drive back, I kept wondering to myself, imagine if I died on this motorway and all of this work, everything on my laptop and email that I have crafted and jigsawed together over the years of my life, poof, gone, just like that.

Like my old friend, Hannah Defoe.

I didn't know she had died until I sat down for my break at work last Saturday and opened the Metro to see her picture and details of the court case surrounding her death. I was stunned, I couldn't concentrate on work all day. There's more. She hadn't died recently. She passed away a long while ago. I've been disconnected from facebook and rarely speak to my old Dance Umbrella friends, so of course I wouldn't have known. But it makes me feel beyond strange, beyond unsettled. Hannah Defoe passed away, I didn't know or feel a thing while her parents must have felt their whole world turn upside down. It's not enough to say my heart goes out to them. My heart won't be worth a thing to them. They want their daughter.

I wanted to blog about it, but didn't know how. Hannah is one of the few people at Dance Umbrella that I can think of and remember exactly what she was like. She was really funny, she had a wicked dance style, I'd say she spoke lowly most of the time and didn't raise her voice much, she had nice wavy hair (in the Metro photo it was straightened), and she was very cool, if you get me. As in, very suave. Is suave right? (Probably not) She was great fun to be with and I don't remember having any issues with her, but we weren't close enough friends to have that squabbling going on.

She'll have friends that can give a description ten times better and more accurate than that, because that was how I knew her when I went to Dance Umbrella and that had to be four years ago.

I am completely different to how I was four years ago and depression had definitely touched me in a bad way. I'm pulling out of it, but I'm not as optimistic as I used to be. So although I felt shaken and upset at discovering she was gone by an impersonal means, I was also upset that I hadn't kept up with who she'd become and that we'd fallen out of touch. Linking back to four-ish paragraphs ago, that was why I started thinking hard about if I was just snatched away. Hannah was 20 when she passed, the age I am now.

I really pray that her parents can get to the bottom of the issue and find peace. Maybe not happiness but peace, at least.

Yeah, lots of dark thoughts circling my head today, the ravens. It's like, you get one, and others come.Oh, on a completely different note, I've discovered I don't hate seagulls so much after all! They have a pretty amazing way of flying against the strong breeze from the sea. Loved watching them, actually. Though... not when they came too close.

Today is the first day in the last two weeks that I haven't felt like my existence on earth was using up valuable air and why am I still alive again? What the hell is it all for? Whose grand scheme dictates that I should be here, wishing to not be here? Feeling like I'm out of sync with a world so eager to eb cut above the rest that it can't take a breath and see that there is a destructive element that is touching lives, nature, their own children...?

So in comparison, today was definitely a good day. Well, until now, I guess...

I think I could say more, but I need to end this because I have to write the material I thought up today for my book before bed. I think I will leave the Vlog today, maybe tomorrow though. But I won't do it if I wake up happy, because... why kill the mood?



Star .

p.s. Sorry for the typos. Fix 'em later.
p.p.s I always say that. Oh well.
p.p.afteritookashower.s. Took tired to write my book now. Tomorra. Gonna hit the hay.

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