the dance of the ink riddled fingers

heart, holes, aches and audience.

Posted in 52 pickup, pin the tail on the love by enisea on 22/07/2011

I am surrounded by heartbreakers.  Most, if not all, of my closer vicinity of female affiliates have quite an effect on the counterpart gender.  These women walk a beautiful path and manage to flower their way with attractive individualism wherein many a male could not help but desire.  Hahaha!  They tell me their stories, they tell me of flirts, of comfort, of not being serious, of just feeling good, because feeling beautiful is a wonderful place to rest identity.  And before I know it, by the time the stories of their girly mischiefs have entered my mind, they gnaw at the little I have and I find myself on the pendulum of insecurity and lacking quotas of ‘validation’.

Moments after sharing whimsical sighs and hysterical giggles with beautiful peers, I find myself desperately patting my pockets and turning my memory inside out trying to remember the last time I felt royally charmed.  And, buckling under the weight of old insecurity, find myself whispering, “Love, I need you now – you need to fix me again, I’ve got holes needing filling”, and allowing escape a few cryptic mumbles of an untitled prayer.  Then, as in the few wise occasions I fumble to pages I’ve written when in a stronger frame of mind about love, about identity, about ‘true beauty’ (whatever that is).  Telling myself I really shouldn’t envy my beautiful people with rich clothes and their audience to choice variety.  Life is short and fleeting and too fragile for attempts at ‘being cool’ in conversation, opinion, fashion, music, humour, entrepreneurship, even in the blogosphere. Apparently when I try very hard to get along with cool people, I’m not given much response…  I’m too keen to be cool, too budget to be suave.

And blah, blah, blah, I find myself trying to justify myself and talking about myself and it’s really quite narcissistic.  That’s the danger of being a personal blogger, as much as one practices reflective critique, it is very much self-revolving and I’ve got to work myself out of this well worked rut.  Hmm, how about you?  How about them?  Heck, what does it matter how others see me?  If it’s comfortable and wonderful feeling beautiful, I need only make myself conscious about whose presence I am always in the company of.  One of the messages that have stung me from a church sermon or two lately is about living for an audience of one.  To live for merely one and allow the rain of applause or disdain fall away like water off a duck’s back.  Mmm, the revolving door of chasing love and walking with it; being steady on uneven ground.  My Rock, my Rock Eternal.


One Response

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  1. Jacjac said, on 23/07/2011 at 11:27 AM

    Any guy would be lucky to sweep you off your feet Niks, If I could, I would!

    I love you, more than I know how to express to you face to face.
    Thank you for listening to my hysteria!

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