So. I'm very excited. I opened my laptop today to discover I had one follower to my , well, rather pathetic blog so far.
Oh well. It's not about the people who follow you.
It's about the people that you aspire to follow the footsteps of.
I follow lots of blogs.
Many are Large scale blogs, but the ones that mean the most to me are those like mine, the ones for the world to read in between the lines, make your own meaning from it.
You can't be happy when you reach for something, that is in reach, but don't reach it.
Who said I had to make a line, and I had to reach it?
I think it was me, I can't ever remember distinctively drawing it in my head, but it's always been there, a thick white line, saying finish. I didn't make it.
And it hurts that I didn't get there in time.
And for one moment, I forgot that no one could see this line, but then I realised I could hide everything inside my head, the deepest darkest secrets, my white line got buried at the back of my mind, and I just kept on living.
But the world is mine, all mine, I was born to take hold and grasp everything, and I need a white line to reach everytime I make a new step forward.
I have two pictures today. One is of Miley Cyrus, now before you ask Miley Cyrus, I depise her. I loathe her, but, her father has laid down some seriously goood white lines for her, otherwise she wouldn't be at the top of the ladder. (Oh and the picture was modified before I downloaded it. sorry if it offends you).
And we all want to be at the top of the ladder.
We all want to be on Broadway, we all want to be amongst the stars, or meeting famous scientists or hanging with Prince William. I mean who doesn't.
But the journey of getting up the ladder is what matters. The journey is always the biggest part of life. No matter what. And if we don't reach all the white lines,
who cares? We are doing what we want. Eventually we will get there, to the top of our ladder.
It's just a shame Miley Cyrus didn't get to experience climbing up that ladder. Because If she did, when she reached the top she might have been a completely different person. Her father kind of just plonked her there for all to see and goggle at. But what the average Jo Bloggs doesn't notice, is that she is a body with no soul, an empty being. And how can one respect one that doesn't know how to feel. How to feel pain, hatred, anger, revenge.
I don't know. I can't comprehend an empty being. One with no soul. It's hard.
Ok.
The second picture I found on one of my favourite blogs, postsecret. Maybe the strangers in this world, the ones we have never met, are the ones that are going to understand us the most. The ones that we are going to turn to when we feel lonely and confused, the ones we are going to turn to when we are lost.
There are strangers out there who are going to know you better than your friends after an hour of msn. There are going to be people out there who just get you.
I am yet to meet one. I guess you have to be very lucky.
Luck is another thing
I don't believe in luck,
But I believe in coincidence.
If you get what you want, If you win Lotto, it's not luck. It's just a coincidence that your lotto ticket had the same numbers as the ones that appeared on the television.
It's just a coincidence that you and the stranger were online at the same time, and one dared to say hi. And a relationship across seas has blossomed.
Treasure it.
Have fun.
Understand each other,
spill your darkest secrets
they won't judge you
they won't hurt you
They may even like you more.
Secrets are more funny things.
WHo invented the secret. Who thought of keeping things in your mind for no one else to ever see.
And why can't we search for them if we know they're there.
Secrets are meant to be kept.
that's why.
You have a secret.
I know you do.
The world is hiding it's secret.
Everything you know is a lie. You have to escape. You don't understand how someone like you could ever fit here. But somehow you do. You slot into the routines, you go to the school, to the soccer games, to every thing that matters to the people around you. But do they ever care about what you really want?
The answer to that is. well I could say 42, but I don't actually know. DO they?
That's up to you to discover. If they care or not.
I know they don't care about me. I'm just another blob on their finished artwork
a black blob in the corner of an intricate painting they have yet to finish.
Thinking that you mean something to everyone is craazy, but knowing, 100% secure that you mean something to somebody, 1 person, is all that you need.
As One girl said to me once. You have to go through the dark patches to enjoy the light ones. Yes you do. Endure through the abnormalities, endure through the pan, Endure the loss, Endure the loneliness, Endure the confusion, Endure hatred, Andure anger,
Then Just enjoy being happy.
I'm sorry that wasn't all that thought provoking, my mind's other places
Au revoir
'I think I know what's on your mind, A couple of words, a great divide, waiting in the wings a sparing spite'
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