Sunday, 23 July 2017

A bit of creativity 1

The most important relationship of all
Knowing me, knowing you
"Don't talk to yourself" they said. I wouldn't if the voices in my head would go silent. And I mean voices, plural. I have a Bosnian and a British girl living inside of me. I think Bosnian is the dominant one, but that's not to say that the British girl is oppressed. In fact, it seems that when someone does something stupid that makes me very angry, if the British girl gets a word in in the first 10 seconds, chances are she will calm the tempest that is the Bosnian girl and I might just deal with the situation calmly. However, if the British girl falls asleep and doesn't react in the first 10 seconds, chances are the Bosnian girl will act the only way she knows how - objects flying across the room, no sense of fear or even consequences. Then there are times when the British girl says to the Bosnian girl inside of me "You know what, you take this one." That's when I'm at my most dangerous. The Bosnian girl is like grateful for the trust that the British girl has show her, so she keeps the cool, but there is no sense of fear or consequences, and due to clarity of mind, she can argue her way to Judgement Day. 
Then, of course, there is the little girl. She comes to life at a sight of anything that takes me back to my childhood - "Oh my goodness, look! A seesaw!" And there is me, trying to fight off the excitement, hoping, praying it isn't visible. How would I explain it to anyone? She also has a habit of judging me after I've done something "Check you out telling that big dude off. He could have punched your lights out." I can hear her. She is loud. But can I talk back? Oh no! That would be talking to myself. Yet I really want to tell her "What do you mean 'he could have punched YOUR lights out'? You are me. He punches me, he punches you." Oh, well, now that I have said this to her, she's laughing and saying "Yeah, but it don't hurt me." She's right. It wouldn't hurt her, it would hurt me. So unfair. So many voices I carry inside, listening to them all day long, yet they don't feel the pain I feel. Clearly, though they are part of me, they are not me. They are not the whole of me. What is whole of me? Who 'is' me? 
Me is not a voice. Me is a feeling making it's way through all the other voices. Me is the source and life of the other voices. They get shaped by what I am feeling, and what I feel is a product of my experiences. I was hurt, so I grew... I was humbled, so I developed... I was rejected, so I created...

My voices are the part of me that lets me know that I have done better than survived, I have evolved. Sometimes they make no sense. Sometimes they are annoying. But they are always loyal. They are always honest. How could I not love me, when I have created voices of loyalty and honesty, to fight the battles of this life that we all face? While I battle with me, battles of life do not seem so bad. And isn’t that what life is all about? To be loyal and honest with yourself, to have courage when needed, to be patient otherwise, and to enjoy life, lough at yourself, make fun as if you were still a child.


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