There is this kids show my eldest watches. Its singing potatoes… Yes singing potatoes, how bizarre right? I guess maybe the creators thought singing potatoes would make kids want to eat their veggies… Or just play with potatoes, ahh the perfect birthday present “Happy birthday, its a potato because I know how much you like those singing ones on TV.”
I have always wanted to write a post that was so beautifully written that who ever was reading could just feel physically what I had written about.
“Dem feels man, dem feels.”
I’ve never known exactly what to write that could do this. I’ve read books on how to, I’ve tried to and I’ve read posts so beautiful that I wish I knew the person who wrote it.
But what have I personally learnt in my time of reading all about how to write different things? A few things actually… Certainly not how to write the most amazing novel in my life… See it doesn’t work that way… Not for me anyway.
An amazing blog post, or an amazing story, can be written beautifully, unintentionally, and sometimes it has been planned for a long time, worked on for months in drafts and written over and over to incorporate every big beautiful word you could find at least once in the post.
“You reading this are a writer, your smile has a story and your mind wants to tell it” – Me, original post My addiction to writing in my head
That post in particular, yes it is one of my best, and it is also supposed to be a beautiful post. I guess it is but its up to the reader to decide that. Something that is beautiful to me, isnt always beautiful to others and something that is ugly to me, isn’t always ugly to others.
So I think over all, no matter how many different things you read about getting in touch with your sensitive side or how to connect to a particular audience. It might be the person you least expect, to come along and show you that you can just write a beautiful post.
You don’t even need to read all the books on how to do it.
You kind of just have to write it and see what happens.
Writing is an art, an art where words come together in such a way that it tells a story
What ever story you desire.
As a writer you have the ability and tools to create art every single day.
With or without structure and boundaries, with or without colour, or understanding and confusion.
You have the ability to personally effect someone, somewhere in the world, with one liners and characters, with adventure and turmoil and with the perfect happy ending or the perfect suicide.
“I like art because art is beautiful” little singing potato on my tv.
So, I’ve been banging my head for ages trying to figure out why the only social interaction (reaction) I get from my younger sibling is negative.
I talked to my mother about this and my partner, but its no use, I have to tell you all as well…
I live in another state, I moved interstate to be closer to Melbourne, so I could study and become a neuroscientist. That was my choice, and its the only way I can do this.
But it comes at a price, I lost pretty much all contact with most my family… Well besides my mum, she talks to me regularly. I guess I just assumed she told everyone else what I was up to, but she just assumed they actually read my facebook or spoke to me.
Not many people read these sorts of posts, but its like I have no one else to talk too… Well that’s wrong, you all read and listen… And that’s just it, someone to listen is all I need… A solution, well we have all tried and failed. It seems hopeless… Maybe it is.
Its stressful living interstate, trying to study, trying to keep in contact with family, when only one member contacts you all the time. Its stressful waiting for a “hey, how are you?” That I know will never come. Its stressful trying to explain to someone that I miss them and having to put up with being ignored or insulted as a result… Because its amusing.
And its stressful that I rely on my page on data to try and find some normality and clarity….
It just is stressful…
From the very first Facebook hate rant to the very first comment on my blog, its no secret I have come along way from there. With every award I received from my fellow bloggers my confidence grew more and more.
To a lot of people, this may not mean much at all, but it means a lot to me. Its almost a year blogging on WordPress for me, and since I started, I’ve formed many new and real friendships with my readers and followers. I may only have a little over 1000, which is a small but decent amount considering I am not a famous author, but it is a huge number to me.
When I decided to get back into writing, I didn’t expect it to last this long, or to have as many followers and readers as I do have. I didn’t expect anyone to like my blog at all.
WordPress has given me the chance to put myself out there, to put my writing on the line and open for criticism (thankfully I’ve never had any bad criticism.) The chance to regain my confidence and the chance to help others regain there’s back too.
I’ve had the honor of being included in thousands of people’s lives thanks to WordPress. I’ve been able to share mine with so many people as well.
I want to sincerely thank the people behind WordPress. And I want to congratulate all you wonderful bloggers out there.
Helping people, one blog post at a time.
Something that I have been long over due is updating you all with my weight loss. So I have lost 2 dress Sizes since I last posted. Because of normal/abnormal bodily functions after having a baby, my hips are still apart and it will be a while before they go back to normal. So I border on a size 10. But I am still just a size 12. So I like to say I am size 11 which is great because last year I was. Size 16!
3-4 months ago, this is what I looked like, my legs fatty and wobbling, pot belly and a massive overhand of skin. Since then the number on the scale hasn’t changed much from then but I’ve lost fat and gained muscle. For the first time in my life I have discovered muscles in my legs I never knew where there before, and I am beginning to see the start of my abs. Although my uterus is still swollen, I can feel and see results. It’s now that waiting game.
I no longer had this massive overhang and my legs are less fatty more muscly.
This is me today. I look great and I feel great. I will never go back to the old me!!
I often think of topics to write about, as if there were endless topics. Fact is there are endless things to write about, I just fear most are bland.
I don’t go out much and like most stereotypical writers, given the chance, you would find me hunched over a vintage typewriter, in the center of a white room talking to myself.
“Yes the world does revolve around me” I would say, staring into the vortex of nothingness you call a wall.
Walls are pretty boring without art, or maybe they aren’t because you have an amazing imagination and you can picture anything on your wall.
Unlike me, my imagination is broken.
Oh crap, I need another coffee
A few months ago mittens kittens and I went to the movies with our partners to see trance. I wondered how long a blog post about finding the perfect seat at the movies could be, and we discussed it briefly. But since then I have always wondered if picking the right seat is really important or not.
Everytime I go to the movies I am very particular about my seat, unless others pick the area we sit in, I just give in and trust their judgment. It is usually pretty good. Sometimes they pick shocking seats. Is it just me who needs to sit in almost the same seat everytime?
I think I have a few stupid OCD things, this being one of them. My partner and I were on the bus the other day, and I explained to him that I freak out if I dont know where the bus is going. Like if I know where it ends up and I have been on it many times before that, it doesn’t matter, because if it goes past my usual stop, I freak out that its going a different way even though I know it will end up in the end. I hate it.
But its like that if I am seeing a movie with just my partner. I don’t want to miss anything at all. I hate needing to go to the toilet because if this also. I don’t like having to miss details and I don’t like not knowing at all.
When I walk in I see where everyone has chosen to sit, and I look at the angle they are sitting. I check the seat and see how close I will be, if I’m too close I move back, if I’m too far I move forward. If the seat is messy I don’t sit there.
Is this just me?
How important is it for you to pick the right seat at the movies?
While sitting in the waiting room at the hospital (I’ve been sitting here for well over an hour now) I noticed everyone staring at me as my youngest was bawling his poor little eyes out. I had to bounce him, pat his back and settle him to sleep. I was stressed at this moment for two reasons, my baby was upset, but so was everyone else in the hospital. Like its such a burden on everyone else, that they are stuck listening to my child cry, they even have to make me feel so uncomfortable by watching me try and settle him. As if they were timing me.
It began to make me wonder though, why do people do the things they do. Right now my partner is causing a stir with our eldest, playing and laughing, he is screaming with joy and sharing treats and tissues. It is excused because he is having fun and the youngest finally went to sleep, he is sleeping on me, in this hospital while there is coughing and splattering all around us… He doesn’t wake up, or stare at the sick people as they stared at us just before.
I wonder should I have have to feel as though I am settling him for the peace of mind of others?
Is it really ok for people to make mothers with crying children more uncomfortable than they already are?
Is it really that agonising for you to hear a baby crying in pain?
I wonder, if it is my sudden need for forgiveness from these strangers… if it is the reasoning behind half of the stress that comes with taking your children out.
People have a constant fear of not fitting it, we really want to impress strangers because we assume strangers are judging us all the time. Fact is we don’t know and the fear of not knowing something is just as hard as finding out the truth about something. We fear we aren’t good enough, to the point where some people won’t go outside because of a bad hair day and a lot of people sit behind their computer screens, just as I am now, except they live their whole lives through their virtual world.
What are your thoughts?
When I was younger, I would play in the back yard, looking for bugs, playing with the dogs and looking up.
The time spent looking down and into the bushes was accompanied by an amazing voice in the background, narrating my adventures. The one and only David Attenborough, he went where ever I went and he was there to tell me about the bird I saw or the insect that I had just seen.
Not many men make it into my top list of great men, but thankfully David has. This amazing man has shaped many children’s futures and entertained many sleepless nights and many days lazing around the house.
When I try to write posts about amazing people I don’t really know what to say, I wish I was able to thank this amazing man in person, but I can’t so I will happily watch his new series on TV and be glad that this man changed my life, helped me better understand wildlife and helped with those times I had no one else to watch on TV
David Attenborough, an amazing man and a voice that has changed the world.