We’re All Broken

Posted on

With each passing day, I am confronted with the fact that I am a textbook case of astrological Cancer.

Emotions be damned. I’m never going to have a full hand over them, and that’s a reality I’m going to need to live with. I wear my heart on my sleeve and it is both a curse and a blessing.

Ideas strike me at the most random of moments.

A curse in the sense that sometimes I’m not very good at hiding at what I am feeling. I become as clear and transparent as an ice-cold lake in the early stages of winter. A blessing in the sense that I get to experience a whirlwind of things daily that serves as an inspiration to so many things in my life. My novel, my short stories, photographs, or stories I want to tell in the future.

Everything has a purpose, right?

Seriously. Pick up the damn phone.

The question I’m proposing to the universe this late evening is this: Why do men always want to discuss topics of importance over text message? Why not call? Or ask me to my face when you see me in person? Don’t text me the whole dilemma over a text message. Not only is it difficult to read, but it’s very impersonal and tells me that you didn’t care enough to ask/talk in any other way.

I’m a writer myself, but I only put pen to paper to describe my feelings when I can’t articulate what I’m feeling in words coming out of my mouth. I know that sounds ridiculous, but things tend to flow better in  ink. Especially lately when my brain doesn’t seem to connect to my mouth all that well. Lots of “blaaaaaah haisealskh”has been spoken this weekend.

Foot in mouth syndrome at its worst.

Just lagging behind in my intelligence. On all fronts. Is this what happens when you graduate? You lose all semblance of critical thinking? Your brain deteriorates? That’s what it’s feeling like, anyways.

“There is always more surface to a shatter object than a whole.”

Wise and insightful words from the avant-garde author, Djuna Barnes.

You must take everyone who wears a hat with that much sass seriously at all times.

It’s an interesting thing to ponder when in the back of my mind I’m right there in England celebrating the 1-year anniversary with Kate Middleton and Prince William, or as they are dutifully called now, the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge. It’s really been a year since they exchanged their vows and proved to the world that fairy tale weddings really do come true.

One year later, and still as cute as ever.

In fact, I think they are now more in love than when they were in the engagement process. But I’m judging this solely off photos presented to me by the mass media and paparazzi. Regardless, they seem uberly happy with their new dog and despite the nasty mill of rumors that keeps whirling about whether or not Kate is pregnant or not.

Let the rumors die already! So she refused some peanut paste.Maybe she has a small peanut allergy.

Let them be, society. They will get pregnant when they want to, or when a higher force deems it right for it to happen. You can’t force these things and it is no longer the 17th century when a dynasty was based on whether an heir was born to the throne or not. Even then, that was an utterly ridiculous belief.

At least we’ve reached the point in society where a woman can assume the throne and rules it just as well, if not 10 times better, than any man who would assume the throne. Sorry, Prince William, but I bet Kate would be a kick ass Queen. I’m quite excited to see what types of things Kate will bring about in their time of reign, She is a beauty with a sharp fashion sense and real knack for public appearances. All a part of her position as wife and Duchess, yes, but just because she married into royalty doesn’t mean she’s going to be good at the role suddenly thrust upon her.

Grade A to be given at her first flying solo event. Plus extra credit points for towering over these people.

Some of us are naturally gifted when put in front of an audience.

There isn’t a day I don’t miss  my princess duties. Oh yea, I was a princess once upon a time. Not on the same scale as our beloved Duchess, but a princess none the less, and once a princess, always a princess.

It says so on a plaque in my room 🙂

There are bound to be experiences in our lives that break us, mend us from that breakage, possibly break us all over again, and at some point, I like to think we heal. In due time, we all find something that makes us feel 100% again. Although I have read and heard quite the opposite where people experience something so grave that there is no going back.

As Frodo says in the Lord of the Rings, “There are some things that time cannot heal. Some wounds go to deep, and in your heart you begin to understand. There is no going back.”

A broken heart is one such wound. There is no going back. The heart will mend, the soul and body will move on, but the emotional scarring will always remain. Like an actual wound. The scar will always remain if the initial injury was deep enough.

Save me, Prince Charming, wherever you are.

I’ve also heard that when you meet “the one”, he erases all that past pain, mends all the scars (like a magical Vitamin E tablet or something.) I guess I’ll found out the validity of that statement when the time comes. If the time ever comes. The romantic in me really believes this day will come. I just wish I knew when it was.

Alright, that’s enough rambling about how much of a broken-hearted old soul I am. It about that time I crawl between the sheets anyways.

When I open my eyes, it  will be the start of my last day of classes. Fancy that. My career at the Academy is drawing to a close. It’s a feeling of melancholy and sweetness. I’ll let you  know how I’m feeling as the week progresses.

I can almost taste the eternal freedom!

Until then, bonne nuit and bonne soir. Depending on when you read this, of course 🙂

Good Night, Paris! I'll see you at midnight one day.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s