Gaining Momentum

Once you’ve fallen, the hardest thing you can do is pick yourself back up. But that’s what makes winners. There’s this notion that whatever happens, however tragic or devastating, you’ve somehow got to use it to become stronger. To be a champion.

 

And I’ve been on the worst place a human can be in. For two years. No growth, no aspirations, no decisions, no expectations. It’s horrid how happy I was, being nought but a shell of a person, a shell of a character, a shell of a destiny.

I don’t want to be in the place anymore. I never have. But it takes a lot more than physical strength to rise up from the ashes. You need mental grit, a strong resolve and commitment in order not to automatically fall again to the same place, maybe even lower. 

I’m still in the pits. Tomorrow will be my attempt to climb up, crawl up, haul myself over-whatever it takes-to get to the ground of the living. Because the living have dreams. 

I want to be alive.

Loving Yourself

There’s an African saying that really we ought to consider before anyone tells us they love us: ‘Be careful when a naked person offers you a shirt’. This means that a person says they love you but yet they don’t love themselves. This is so common. I was reflecting the other day about how everyone wants to date/ get married/ fall in love so that someone can love them, not that they can love someone else. Isn’t that the whole point of love to give whatever you can-within your means and morals-unconditionally and loving someone? You’re supposed to love, not just be loved.

How insecure and dependent will someone who dates/marries/is in a relationship be if they are only in it to be loved. How shallow is that? Most of us are inspired to pursue ‘love’ just so we can be loved and apparently this leads to happiness and results in one loving themselves. How absurd. This is why there are ‘clingy’ people out there; there is this popular mentality people have that if someone appreciates and loves them, they will love themselves eventually and be happy. How strange is it to rely on another person to make you happy?

If you want to be happy, be. It’s got to come from you, specifically inside you. No one else can make you happy without your permission, so sure, let other people contribute to that happiness but don’t let them be the reason. Otherwise you’ll find yourself alone, some moment in the day, and you will be ridiculously unhappy, maybe even on the verge of depression.

I’m not saying we should all succumb to the brilliant hell that is the ego (it’s attractive, but you really, really don’t want to feed that demon). Arrogant people don’t even love themselves. Yeah. I said it. No, you’re brain isn’t deluding you, I really said that. Arrogant people love the image of themselves that’s formed in their heads, or people’s opinions- in arrogance’s eyes, an opinion which is either deserved if it’s good or too inferior to take into account if ‘bad’ or critical.

So appreciate yourself. Acknowledge and respect your flaws, your characteristics and your goodness, all of it. Learn to love yourself because then you understand yourself and want the best for you, whether that’s almost killing yourself on the treadmill in anticipation of a better physique or studying to midnight to attain that coveted A grade. You’ll do what’s better for you in the short and long term. And you won’t let someone’s opinion or their actions or words, trample all over you.

Why chocolate should be banned

So you’re out to shop, browsing the stacked shelves for that one prize. Your goal. Your meagre earnings spent on that one beautiful product: chocolate. As I was eyeing the food necessities placed cunningly in the face of an unassuming customer-me-in a long-overdue shopping trip with my mum, I kept coming across chocolate. Not just a few pieces in a small section, but displayed attractively in all but one aisle (the one with vegetables, obviously). So after that unneeded annoyance of trying feverishly to blackout the gorgeous devils from my range of sight, I came up with my top 6 reasons why chocolate should be ignored (*gasp*):

1. It looks horrible-is that really something you want to eat? Look at it-no, really look at it. It’s brown, dull and doesn’t appeal  to my senses (other than my taste buds, but even then it’s just the thought of it that makes me salivate and popular portrayal-not the actual junk).

2.The packaging: it deceives, poses environmental issues and is unfairly attractive to my salivary glands. Why make it so colourful and distractive to my vision when I obviously want nothing to do with it. Obviously it’s used for marketing purposes, however it’s popularised so much within stores-major and local-that I’m forced to see it and then engage in another internal battle why I can’t have it.

3. It might taste sweet but so do apples and watermelons. Why not substitute that unnatural junk for real food; you feel fuller, and you’re taking in fewer calories so can always gorge on other stuff later. Or, by eating chocolate, you’ve got to exercise more with a higher intensity than if you’d just eaten, say, a banana to maintain a good fitness level. Do you really have that time and energy?

 4. Cocoa farmers are paid ridiculously low wages!! Yeah, yeah I’ve heard that argument before… We have to buy chocolate so that cocoa farmers are paid. That’s just another excuse for your over-indulgence. And by buying that chocolate you’re actually supporting what these huge profit-making businesses do by hardly paying enough to live by. Even fairtrade-is it really enough for a family to thrive or just for it to survive?

5. Makes me crave more! Wonder why you’re addicted? Because of those addictive substances it contains of course! This leads to me consuming more food, which in turn leads to a much larger calorie intake than I can possibly use without vigorously exercising for 2 hours straight.

6. Spots/ Pimples. My friends-the typical teenage variety who constantly vandalise their bodies with chocolate-are always complaining about spots appearing on their faces. Sure, foundation can help but that’s just another lie. It’s true-their faces do adorn spots.

Remembrance Day

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
      Between the crosses, row on row,
   That mark our place; and in the sky
   The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
   Loved and were loved, and now we lie
         In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
   The torch; be yours to hold it high.
   If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
         In Flanders fields.

Why I don’t wear Makeup

Make up seems to be the modern symbol of beauty and femininity. I can’t imagine why so many of us still choose to smother our faces with artificial gunk while hoping to portray confidence. The very fact that many females resort to this facial vandalism attests against any confidence. How insecure do you have to be to paint on ‘your face’ day in and day out?

Granted, it looks good. Minimal usage appears natural, too. Today only ‘tomboys’ or the lazy don’t turn to this ‘phenomenon’-I’m  one of the latter-and we’ve got to change the ingrained notion that beauty is skin deep. I love colour and beauty looks good, but sometimes it’s too good. In this instance it’s fake, shallow and unreal. Also, how often do regular users check for details on the type of research testing undertaken during the production?

This isn’t an attack on every make-up-clad female but a post that’s forcing you to think about why you apply it; does it somehow empower you as a woman? Is the hour you spend in the morning in careful application worth a sleep deficit? Make up is part of a multi-billionaire industry that thrives off of this clichéd, unrepresentative depiction of beauty. Either you conform to social norms or you carve a new path where you allow others to respect your natural persona and you accept and appreciate yourself, rather than seeking others’ approval.

Initiation

Colours. Those fiddly annoying things that vandalise your sight. Shades of a superficial spectrum; hot pink, baby pink, pink lace, cherry blossom, amaranth and shocking pink. All degrees of a particular colour-or is pink even part of the ROYGBIV spectrum? Just a combination of red and purple?

Thoughtful musings, for thought is the embodiment of our lives. Colour and perspective, for they paint life in hues unseen.

This is a purpose. This is a life. This is yet another blog.