Summer 78’ - Yann Tiersen
The Frames - Sideways Down
You blame it on your broken heart but
Everyone who reaches out gets stung.. ♫
Lisa Hannigan - Needles
Under the light
What if I died?
What if halfway through
I turned around and changed my mind…? ♫
Kristina & Orlaith
Boyle’s Pub, Slane
Sunday - Sia
Perfect Sunday tune.. ♫
27-2-11
We sat in Esquires, the new coffee shop where the bank used to be on West Street. He wore a t-shirt with a band name I had never heard and I wore boots with a heel. We had planned to come here for tea - he drinks his with no sugar, I have two - okay, three - in mine. This was barbaric, he said, so he took me there to prove how much nicer tea is without sugar at all. When we got there, he drank coffee and I ordered hot chocolate.
I had known Carter for years and always hoped that someday, considering how much we get along and how much we have in common, he would finally come to his senses and see me as something more than just a kiss on the dance floor on a night out. So when he asked me to meet up with him, I couldn’t understand the sudden dread I felt. Why wasn’t I excited? Why didn’t I get the butterflies - the elation? And why - why oh why oh why oh why - did I - for a split second - picture Ronan sitting across from me instead of Carter?! I could understand if it was Christian, but Ronan?! It was ridiculous.
The dread, I would soon come to learn, was because of how things could go wrong so quickly when you don’t want them to. It’s the feeling of disappointment you earn after getting your hopes up, and knowing better than to get your hopes up in the first place. It’s the feeling of dread from the potential rejection from somebody that you like, somebody that you can see yourself being with - but can they see themselves being with you?
When it came to Carter, he had always made it very clear how he did not - under any circumstances - want a girlfriend. Period. So then why, as we left the coffee shop and he walked me home, did he ‘pop the question’?
At first I didn’t know what to say. I actually thought he was joking and had to refrain myself from an awkward laugh. But he kissed me and told me that he was serious and that for once, I had to be too. I loved that. I loved that he wanted me to be straight with him. And even though I had always known Carter to be as free as a bird, I knew that I wouldn’t have to worry about what he thought about me, what he thought himself or keeping things from me just for the sake of it, that I would know exactly where I stood with him at all times. There were absolutely no mind games, nothing to feel anxious about and he accepted me without doubts.
And that is why my hesitation and thought for Ronan came to mind in the first place. I wish that he had have been that open with me, that straightforward and had accepted me without wishing that I was somebody else - which is who I came to be. For Ronan, I wanted to be anybody but me and I gave him the illusion that I was an awkward, uptight person with a lot of negativity in my soul. If he had met me on a regular night out with no means to impress him, he would never have broken things off with me. And I wished that he hadn’t.
Still. Life goes on and I know that being Carter’s girlfriend is going to be completely different. For one thing, he already knows me without having to impress him or change who I am. He’s seen me at my best and my worst. He knows that I’m opinionated, independent and that I like things my way, but he always knows how to work with that and not just around it. Ronan ran a mile.
All I knew was, that after Ronan had called things off with me, six weeks of anxiety and negativity melted away at once and I could see things very clearly.
1. That he was a fool.
2. That I was an even bigger fool.
3. That I was a fool to have him take me for a fool.
4. That I was fucking fabulous and he missed out.
And I knew, there and then, that under no circumstances would a man would ever intimidate me like that again. And anyway - the world shouldn’t be deprived of my brilliance in the first place.
Sideways - Citizen Cope
These feelings won’t go away.. They’ve been knocking me sideways.. ♫
11-2-12
Are we addicted to loneliness?
In a small town where everyone knows everyone, it’s hard to avoid the publicity of your life being everybody else’s business as well as your own. In a generation of technology where Facebook now plays a huge role in your dominate social life, you sometimes have to take a step back and ask yourself - Do I even have one? Do I have friends - real friends - that actually want to spend time with me rather than fill me with false ideas through the means of a computer screen? And is that the real issue here… Is what I believe to be a relationship of some sort actually with a computer screen rather than a physical human being? They say that communication through technology, no matter what you have to say, is actually only 7% of a real conversation. 93% is through body language.
And then it hits me - I hardly even leave the house.
Three days before Valentine’s and everyone has someone to spend it with but me. Sue is in Galway with her boyfriend, Jude at home with hers… even Olivia, the one friend I can depend on spending time with when everyone else is out with their young lovers, has a certain ‘friend’ to spend her time with now in a more, shall we say, ‘beneficial’ way.
I, on the other hand, will spend the day as I spend the rest of them… with myself, totally alone, at home, eating myself to oblivion and feeling sorry about my lack of a life. But why should I?
Before Facebook, I actually had a social life. I was outgoing, funny, courageous and smart. There was nobody that I was afraid of, nobody that I felt inferior to, nobody that I couldn’t walk up to and say “You have no idea how ridiculously good looking you are, have you?” and believe me - I’ve said it. How do you think things started off with Christian?
But people stopped going out to focus on the more important things in life… Their studies, their careers, having a job and making money.. And those who found love in a boy forgot about those who didn’t, meaning me.
Perhaps we fell into a routine, a state of mind where we each knew what the other person would be doing without having to be told and understanding that no offence was meant by the lack of communication. And there it is - that word - “communication”. Whenever I speak to my friends who have abandoned me for their own lives, our only source of communication is via Facebook, texting or a quick phone call to let you know that they’re still breathing and still in love. And, although you smile and laugh patiently, the truth is, you’re dying for them to get dumped so they can come crawling back, just so you can lend them a shoulder, show them that you’re a solid being in their lives who will always be there and use the ‘I told you so’ line - just as stab for leaving you in the first place.
But why should I resent their happiness? Why should I be so bitter as to not even bother to look for some happiness of my own? Do I just expect that it will be handed over to me and that I don’t even have to leave my house for it to find me? It seems that I have now lost the wing women in my life who gave me the courage to be courageous in the first place! When I’m invited out without a plus one invitation, I reject the offer with a transparent excuse and spend the evening as I shall spend the rest of my life;.. crying over the loss of spontaneity that I once loved so dearly.
It feels that I’ve reached a dry patch in what used to be my once so busy life. It feels that nobody has the time for me and in return, I give no time to those who ask for it. I have become a walking, hypocritical, self pitying mess who has the ability to change this state of mind so easily, and yet is so reluctant to do so. And really, though I blame the world around me and pride my pride all too much, the only person I can truly point the finger at is that face in the mirror… The one that hides away day after day until their face is no longer appealing to the world outside and becomes the one thing that I fear it should… ugly.
But overall, the bigger picture is much larger than we think. In this generation, technology has not just become a necessity; it has become an addiction. We are addicted to other people’s lives and as a result, ignore our own lavish in self pity. Like everything else on the internet, the information we are given is wrong. The impression that our so called ‘friends’ give us through their photos, status’ and how they portray their character makes us feel as though their lives are better than ours. But really, how do we know? How can anybody truly know someone through a screen? Why doesn’t anybody want to get to know the person behind it? And the worst question I ask myself is - through routine, false society and endless self pity and foreseeing the outcome - are we addicted to loneliness?
Drawing of Kristina & Orlaith
Boyle’s Pub, Slane
January, 27, 2012
(Drawing, Feb 8)
