Every day is Christmas Day, if you are truly free.
-Me.
Every day is Christmas Day, if you are truly free.
-Me.
When I’m filling a stocking for someone special, I try to fill it with:
-Something to eat
-Something to drink
-Something to wear – usually socks and boxers or both (Obviously thinking about spouse here)
-Something to write in, diary or notepad with pen.
-Some type of useful gadget that needs batteries. I was going to buy a nose/ear trimmer for my spouse but realised I’d never actually seen any stray hairs sprouting from either orifice, in thirty years, and so thought this might be a bit insulting. Turns out he would have welcomed them. I suppose he’s been doing it in secret, trimming, I mean. (An ideal Christmas gift opportunity down the pan).
Some type of exciting but esentially useless gadget, that appeals to men’s little-boy-that-never-grew-up mentality.
Something to drink out of – Christmas themed or other type of drink vehicle filled with socks, marshmallows and/or generic hot chocolate mix. Got him a Batman mug and socks that I secretly wanted. (Christmas is nothing if not about sacrifice).
Something to splash on. (Got to be Brut lotion in his case)
Something out of the box/miscellaneous, unexpected, that doesn’t fit into any category.
Booby prize – Actually, only just thought about this one, as a possible stocking filler idea.
Toiletries- Just the few essential packs of razors and shaving foam.
Mastermind Vintage – A really cheap perfume for men, that smells like sugar, with a tiny bit of musk, which he obviously didn’t like, which he gave to me. Remember these are not the real present/gift items. It’s fun supplementary.
Lambrini Rhubarb – He likes sweet things and he doesn’t normally drink so I thought lightweight, sweet, refreshing and delicious, can’t lose, but again, he passed it onto me. I’m sensing a pattern here. Tastes like melted plastic to me. Like the Christmas Pudding and Custard Stout I bought, which tasted like nothing I’ve ever drank before, and hope I never will again, I thought it would go straight down the sink, and for me to pour alcohol down the sink, it has to be bad, but I drank a can of this, and now I have heartburn.
As usual, everything was last minute for me this year, like the men you see going out at Christmas Eve to buy perfume. Actually, it’s usually the day before, under cover of darkness, at 4.30 p.m, and you can see the pain in their eyes, even in the winter solstice.
I try to include a delicate balance of different useful things, but it was a bit hit and miss this year, more miss than hit. So… I’m going to have a P.S Day. Things forgotten and not purchased through lack of time, energy, indecision, trauma, hot discount store, or some other reason and we’re going to have another Christmas Stocking, in the next few days, a sort of add on, an expansion, like those video games, only with those nose hair trimmers nestling uncomfortably on top.
Merry Christmas Everyone!
‘Disobedience is the true foundation of liberty. The obedient must be slaves.’
‘I will not be like a bird bred in a cage, I thought, too dull to fly even when the door stands open.’
– Circe – Madeline Miller
We know what it does
How it does it
Where it goes
Why it comes
What it’s going to do next
Yet are still mesmerised
By the waves
Lapping on the shore
And the tides going in and out
And the diamonds on the blue
When the sun is shining
And the fury of a storm
Foaming at the corners of its mouth.
‘If you yourself are a shy one, then please try not to settle for living in your isolation cage. Take every opportunity a stranger or colleague or associate may offer and run with it. There is no need to be scared of people or believe that what you have to contribute is worthless. Take a chance, get involved and slowly the cage will open.’
‘The truth of a thing is the feel of it, not the think of it.’
I hope your troubles
Don’t hurricane your life
I hope extreme emotional turbulence
Doesn’t undo you.
I hope you overcome
The hurricanes of life
And they don’t define you
Or make you bitter and twisted
Or frighten you
Or unkind you
And make you indifferent
Uncaring
Or apathetic
But as with most things
Hurricanes disperse
I hope your hurricanes
Drift along
Expend energy harmlessly
Into the ocean
And melt off into the mist
Where they can do no harm to no-one
Especially yourself.
Watch it go.
‘I was never going to have things the way I wanted them, no matter how vivid they seemed in my imagination. In a way, life itself was an improvisation, in which I was going to have to deal with what came to me and not think about what should have come.’
A Safe Haven
In the mind
For some
Is a tiny place
A box room
A seven by twelve foot prison cell
No toilet
No light
Infested with cockroaches
But in others
A Safe Haven
Is a beautifully decorated mansion
With fragrant gardens
A peaceful place
A beautiful sunset
A sprawling landscape
Rolling hills
A county
A country
A continent
For some, sanctuary is small
With no room to breathe
Or to turn around
What does it take?
To extent or expand one’s safe haven?
A serene cove
In a quiet harbour
Or a desert
A tundra
How abundant or sparse
Are our safe havens?
If you’re never had a safe haven before
There’s always hope for one
To be written into your world
Painted into your soul
It doesn’t have to be
Just for the few
Self destructive
Self sabotaging minds
Will see their safe havens
Boarded up
And a sign that says
‘Dangerous, derelict building.’
‘Keep Out!’
Sometimes you have to
Open it back up
And renovate
Life is hard enough
Without a safe haven
To call your own
And it costs nothing
In running fees
It’s yours
And yours only
And no-one else’s
A priceless place
A private place
Of time and space
Your sweet, secure
Safe Haven