Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

I’m ashamed to admit this… but I hate being single

.Reading time 7 minutes.

Featured image credit: Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

Being single the past 18 months or so has not been a journey of self-discovery. Unless that self-discovery includes developing an unwaivering sense of aloneness. It is alienating being the only single one out of everybody you know. The condescending sympathetic looks paired with the patronising words of ‘encouragement’ reminding you that “he’s out there” or “you’ll find someone”, make me want to scream. But my hatred of singledom is not just about peer pressure, it’s a feeling, a need, a want deep down inside of me.

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I Don’t Get Poetry

.Reading time less than 1 minute.
I don't get poetry
And it's pontifical ways.
Lines full with syntax and
stanzas prattling on for days.
What even is poetic expression
to the untrained and witless mind?
You don't need a degree in lit and lang
to fathom why the poet choose to rhyme?

There Are No Words Left

.Reading time less than 1 minute.
What can I say
That hasn't already been said
By others more intelligent
And eloquent than I?
Humanity has been creating
For thousands of years.
Surely there are no words left
That have yet to be combined?

A Chronic Case of Self-doubt

.Reading time 8 minutes.

Featured image credit: Emily Morter on Unsplash

Over many years, I have refined the ability to pick myself apart. Every idea I have ever had, every endeavour I’ve thought I’d like to try, they always get the once over by my self-doubt. So good I am that I don’t even have to question myself anymore, I just pass the sentence – you will fail, you are awful, you are bad at this, you will be bad at this, you aren’t liked by anyone, you are wrong (again).

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Plan. What Plan?

.Reading time less than 1 minute.
I am without a plan.
Life doesn't adhere to one
so why should I?

Much rather be swept up by the tide
where I'll drift or drown.
Or perhaps the winds could carry me
on a gentle breeze,
or in the eye of a storm.

And wherever I may land
is where I'm destined to belong.

Too Busy

.Reading time less than 1 minute.
Too busy looking forward
I forgot to look around.
Take in all the beauty
that's come to surround.

Too busy looking backward
I forgot to look ahead.
Ignored life's potential,
kept myself with my regrets.

The Meaning of Life

.Reading time less than 1 minute.
The meaning of life.
Is there any meaning?
Or is that the meaning,
that there is no meaning?
So, we create a meaning
and keep finding meanings,
all to justify our being.
But if we forego a meaning,
we might find it freeing
and would finally be seeing
what life really means.

What do I want to do with my life?

.Reading time less than 1 minute.
What do I want to do with my life?
A question I've been asking for years.
One I'm still no closer to answering.
At times I came close,
but doubts found their way in.

So, I remain on the hunt.
A vain attempt to look as if I'm doing
something worthwhile to outsiders
as time slowly passes me by.

I'll figure it out 
the day I'm on my deathbed.
An ah-ha moment taken 
with my very last breath.

The Impossible Task of Finding Yourself

.Reading time 6 minutes.

Featured imaged credit: Maksym Kaharlytskyi on Unsplash

What does finding yourself even mean? Is it different to different people, or is it a universal thing? What part of you does it relate to: your personality, your physicality, your psychology, your beliefs, your opinions? Or is it all of those and more?

When I stand in front of a mirror, I’m not sure what I see. I can tell you my name and my date of birth. But sometimes I feel as if that is all I know for sure about myself.

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