Exploring ‘Me’

This page is dedicated to personal, reflective writing that I have written and allows an inside glimpse into the abyss that is ‘Me’. Enjoy.

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Jigsaw Pieces

Teenage years are arguably the hardest of your life; you determine your foreseeable future, learn about life, refine your character and most importantly start feeling things in an over-exaggerated way. I am no different, a young sixteen years-old boy with his life set before him, and yet am a convoluted mess -like that of an un-solved jigsaw- of feelings and emotions.

Now, as I am far from the ‘popular’ stereotype of teenage culture; I try to find myself a comfortable intermediate between the ‘nerds’ and the ‘nobodies’. I happen to enjoy sciences, but still make the inappropriate jokes of a seven year-old. I enjoy the newest action/horror movie yet still find time to watch the next Japanese Anime from the ‘web. I prefer my own company; however given the chance to go off to a party with my intricate network of friends for a night of fun and dreaded mornings, you can guarantee that I’ll be there. The lazy man’s version of a good book: the video game – captivates my very essence. However, each and every night I’ll be tucked up in bed reading my way through my ninety-strong book collection. So, how someone of such diversity can call himself a “convoluted mess of feelings and emotions” might seem a mystery to some, there is nevertheless one aspect I haven’t touched upon; love, often referred to as, ‘The Bane of Man’.

It’s really the small things that get me going at times. When such things should bother me, I find myself of a philosophical mind; one small question can cause months of debate. One such question posed itself like on the off-chance today: does protection show love, or weakness? Is it a blessing or a curse? Take for instance the scenario of a country boy arriving in the city; he doesn’t know of con-men or gang culture because his parents did not see the need for him to know. All of a sudden he is thrust into such unforeseen circumstances and therefore due to the [good] intentions of his parents, cannot make a revised decision in the situation – should it occur and what’s worst of all is, when I think deeply like today, I turn sad – almost relapsing into depression – and, either socially alienate myself, or do an irrational act to someone in my social web. That or I become the herbivore of the hypothetical food chain concerning love: the humble prey.

To be honest, I’m not a womaniser. I create strong bonds of friendship with the opposite sex but never (with one exception) manage to turn it into anything. This is particularly true for the same person for neigh on three years, well since my last relationship crumbled into the plains of oblivion, making Dante’s Inferno seem like a walk in the park.

It is an unusual feeling; to be surrounded by young attractive women and manage to tear your eyes away to text another. Another who, for those three years has been through the same as you. A girl who is out of your league and falls for the same ‘guy’ time and time again. Until now. Knowing your friendly conversations and humorous hints have actually taken effect portrays the trust and the bond between persons and the strength it carries through the two parties. The days following the realization of this filled me with turmoil and heartache, and to this very day still does.

As both ‘Romeo and Juliet’ and ‘Anthony and Cleopatra’ were both tragedies, my ‘Shakespearean’ play is still to reach its epilogue. It really is a funny idea how music can bring two people together, even funnier how a piano can be the enzyme in the reaction of friendship.

            I had had quite an unruly day, too much thinking and fantasizing. The task was to practice the instrument which needed the most work (drums in my case) and several of the other boys – who, if I’m blunt couldn’t care less about what music stands for – thought drums was included in that category. I just hated it, the others had no idea of course, but working with such uninterested fellow performers made me feel physically sick. So I made my way over to the ‘usual’ room.

The soft alluring melody of Purcell’s ‘Hornpipe’ floated through the music department. As I looked through the rectangular pane of criss-crossed glass my heart melted. There she was, staring intensely at the piano keys, working through the second theme with the light touch of a feather. Her hair, cut short to a complementary length shone like amber, radiating beauty in the dimly lit room. I slowly opened the door with a grin, knowing full well that any attempt to get in undetected would fail. Swiveling sharply on the piano-stool with a girlish laugh, I was met by a life-sucking hug, which drained the oxygen out of my lungs as fast as a parched man drains a flask of water. I felt my unruliness ebb away as conversation flowed instantaneously. It was almost as if I had been enchanted by a siren’s song, captivated yet unwilling, incase I conveyed my true feelings. For half an hour we continued in this way, like every music lesson, talking about everything and anything until we succumbed to the tiny voice of conscience, and thought it best to at least play one song.

The opening G minor chord which heralded the introduction to Ellie Goulding’s cover Elton John’s “Your Song” lilted through the midday stillness. The song is a personal favorite of mine and as soon as we reached the first verse, the enchantment began. The bubbly, talkative girl who, just moments before, was laughing away without a care in the world fell serious, and sang, putting both heart and soul into the words being sung, melodies of untold heartache and erroneous love. The underlying acceptance of what the words meant to the other, inferred the duty not to fail. This one at least, was for all the hurts we both had felt and the communion of our friendship and how together we would struggle through.

Something inside me died, I don’t really know what, but it did that day no matter how much I think about it. Seeing Aphrodite in front of me brought the knowledge that, deep down it is not destined to be. One thing stuck in my mind; when one dies, another will rise from the ashes anew. It felt, like one of those special moments; the kind that always seems to be in movies.

As soon as it happened it had gone, just like that. I was ripped open, my scars shown, deep, penetrating scars that illuminated all my wrongs – like a lighthouse light scours the watery expanses to search for boats – and more importantly my idiocy. One thing I truly hate about myself and yet is embedded in me is the characteristic that defines humankind; the ability to make mistakes -and to be truthful- I have made one too many.

To have these inner thought scrutinized is slightly unnerving to say the least, but by a person that one feels attracted to… is kind of mood-killer. In some way it shows how we as individuals grow. We have to learn acceptance over our faults and to learn from them in order to make ourselves stronger. Thus we can continue to evolve and improve, so that one day, maybe the next time the keys are played, they won’t be played alone and the jigsaw puzzle is finally whole.


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