Tempers Ball

June 10th 2007

I have such strange thoughts for someone of such small stature. So much sadness fills my body that sometimes I feel as though my head will burst. I do NOT regret, I will NOT dwell on my decisions, I live and I carry on. Yet I do wonder...

I am so young, and yet I have seen so much, I have seen to much. I dont ask for pity, I wont ask for love. I am stronger and smarter than that. I will sit here in the silence of my thoughts and learn to accept them. I will learn.

But what have I done? I have run from home. I have buried myself in a new culture, in a new city, but I am still haunted. I am still lost. I sit in my room, with it's bed and it's chair for hours upon hours, only because I can't face the people on the other side of my door. I wander the city moving in and out of the same shops, picking up and putting down the same objects, and I wonder when it will stop.

This is not what I want, this is NOT who I am. I have come here, in the guise of love, in the hope of life, but i find nothing. I want to make myself believe that I have done the right thing, that I have made decisions that will make me different and beautiful and mysterious. But what good are these things if I am unhappy?

I am so tired, my head aches with thoughts of the past, and while I know I should let them fly, I cannot. I do not reminisce, I simply frown upon what I see in the tomorrows of my life.

I have always been fascinated by the past, the pasts of other peoples, other cultures, other lives, anyones but my own. I think I have finally been thrust back down from my silver lookout. I must make a life out of what I have been given. I am so young, and yet to old to start again. But I do NOT regret. I will NOT regret.

I will carry on.

June 10th 2007, Entry #2

I read an article about faith today. And I as I dwell upon the subject I begin to wish that faith could fill my void. I am not religious, and I believe in no higher power.

I envy the faithful. The Buddhists in their monasteries, binding themselves to their belief. The Christians and Catholics spreading their god around the world. The Hindus, The Jews, The Mormons. They all disagree with each other, but they all agree that they have faith.

To whole heartily believe in something, to accept it without thought or question, to strive to fufill a purpose other than living out my 80 years on this planet. I wake in the mornings and I am alive. They wake in the mornings and they are not alone.

God , Sheva, Buddha, Ganesh, Mohammed, and Ala DO exist. Faith brings them alive, and faith fills people. Faith gives purpose to purposeless lives.

But I will never be filled with such a faith. I cannot blindly bind myself to anything. I ask to many questions and I am to wild a spirit. I wait for the proof to grow within the wrinkles of my hands only to find the wrinkles grow deeper instead.

How I envy the faithful, how I wonder if they know how lucky they really are. If ignorance is bliss, blind faith is Eden encarnate.

June 14th 2007


We had a row again last night. I'm not really sure if it was a row though, we never yell at each other... how could we in a house full of 6 people. It doesn't really matter though does it, it always ends the same...God I hate this.

If there is a higher power, he must have a very sadistic sense of humor. He gives us the ability to love and make love, but just on the end, he staple guns suffering to it. I have known no one who had the "perfect relationship". Rowing and crying and compromise and being upset are all integral parts of real relationships. Why? why can't I just live out my life like some disney film. Where is the bloody happily ever after that we're all taught?

I love him. That isnt the problem, sometimes I think I love him to much, and maybe that's the problem. It is so strange to be here, this isnt my home. I dont want to leave and sleep on my own again, but I know that I cant stay here.

It's strange you know, to be so comfortable with someone that no matter what they do you won't get mad, and then to live with their family and have it pick at you like cancer from the inside.

Cultures vary so astoundingly in this world. Sometimes I find myself wondering if i am the egocentric one, and if it's me who needs to change. I am so amazingly outnumbered, but I hold fast. I am who I am because of how I was raised, and I will not let them take that from me.

I am me, and I love him. If I have to love him from somewhere else than so be it. I will love him still.

September 25th

The great escape,

To escape

1.to succeed in avoiding (any threatened or possible danger or evil): She escaped capture.
2.to elude (one's memory, notice, search, etc.).
3.to fail to be noticed or recollected by (a person): Her reply escapes me.
4.(of a sound or utterance) to slip from or be expressed by (a person, one's lips, etc.) inadvertently.

When I think about the great escape, I am reminded of a film in which war prisoners escape, but today I thought about something else. Today I thought about the meaning of the word and not the presentation. Can an escape really be great? Looking at the definition I see only sad reminders in its examples. To escape always follows some wrongdoing, some evil some unspeakable thing must be present in order to escape from it.

Can you escape nothingness? I believe you can if that nothingness is causing you pain. Can you elude life? Can you fail to be noticed, can you avoid interaction.

What if the great escape is really just escaping this metal parkway of high rises and highways. The monotony of this present state has brought tears to my eyes on more than one simple occasion. I am flabbergasted and saddened by the way people have simply accepted their way of life in this scrap-yard of culture. They work, they go home and are fed information through a box on their mantles. Pictures of nature and beaches and sand keeps them content….. how can this be?

Sure there are those of us who take to the wild and consider these blinks an “escape”. But is it really? Do we escape only to be recaptured by our pursuers or did we ever really escape at all… did we simply go for our run around the “yard”.

I am tired of living in a prison of thousands, but I wonder what the great escape could really be, what it could truly mean.

November 27th

I have no great thoughts to share with you today, only the ramblings of someone who wishes they were great.

I went running in De Toet on Saturday, it's a nature reserve in Zonhoven. It froze the night before, and at 9 am everything was still covered in a blanket of white diamonds. It was truely beautiful there, after 2 hours I found myself nearing the crest of the final dune. I stopped at the top to look and commit to memory the beauty around me.

There I found peace, in that barren place. My body steaming and my breath clouding the air.

I found peace.

But as always in this busy world, it was short lived. I headed back to the car, and had a rich conversation with my spirit. You see, my spirit wanted to stay there, wanted to sit on that dune and make it my home. My spirit longs to be free.

I was forced to remind it that even in the dunes we are not free. I had to explain to my spirit how De Toet would eventually become monotone, how the bushes and forests would stop talking to us, how eventually we would discover every corner and memorize every tree. De toet is not endless, it is a quiter version of the cities that surround it.

As always, my spirit was forced to see the reason in my mind and gave up. It ran back behind the calculated reasonings and logical algorithms that make up my daily life...

But if I won, why am I so disappointed?