Lyrics and Life

We all have songs that resonate with us, no matter what is going on in our lives, there is always that song that when we hear it, we stop what we are doing and we think.
Lyrics can be so powerful. They can save us and send us on new paths. Sometimes it is as though the artist/ songwriter is writing specifically for us - as if they know what we need to hear and that we need to be reminded that how we feel - others feel the same.

I have a few songs that remind me of different times of my life and which helped my thoughts at the time, maybe I will save those for a different post! But the main song and lyrics which make me stop and which remind me of where I am and where I need to be is Rewind by Stereophonics. It is a beautiful song and reminds me that I should never compromise who or what I want to be.

In the answer to the question, if I could rewind my time, would I change my life? No, I wouldn't. All things happen for reasons and that includes the hard stuff, but sometimes, it only takes a song to remind us of that fact and that it will all be ok.


Here are the lyrics:

It's your time
It's your day
It's never too late
To change lanes
How's your life?
How's your place?
Was it where you wanted
Your head to lay?

But wait, you can breathe
You can see what I can see
Don't waste your time
You can't make back

If you could rewind your time
Would you change your life?

Do you like you?
Do you love your wife?
Or did you pick what
You're told was right?

Dream and be
What you feel
Don't you compromise
What you wanna be

'Cause change is okay
What's the point in staying the same
Regrets, forget what's dead and gone

If you could rewind your time
Would you change your life?

If Jesus rode in on a camel today
With your cross on his shoulder
Time to take you away
Have you done all you wanted?
Are you happy and warm?
Do you miss someone special
You don't see anymore?
Have you blood on your hands?
Do you dream of white sands?
Can you sleep well at night?
Have you done all you can?
The place I was born in
Stays crooked and straight
I see innocent blue eyes
Go blind everyday

Rewind your time
Would you change your life
Today?

Waves of emotion

I can see something heading into a epic disaster.

It is like the wave that starts far out at sea, gently being caressed and moved by the currents beneath it. Without much effort or choice, it picks up speed, rolling faster and growing in size. The wave might want to stop and slow down, but it can't; the current is so strong, it has grasped the wave and won't release its hold. As it grows, every rock, ship or structure that stands in its way is hit harder and harder with a full body of emotion.

It sees safety in a shore and it stretches to reach the calm flat end. But before it is there, before the end it has to break. Every wave has its breaking point where the horses run wild, where the crash of emotion explodes and thrashes the water with anger, feeling relieved at the release.

The wave has been building for tides. All it wants, is to be set free.

A New Hope

You hold my hand from a distance
Always there at the touch of a send
Far away but your warmth glows
Healing my pain and caressing my sigh
At times we are one, the same lost soul
Wanting to be heard, needing to be loved
Longing for life
To pervade tired blue eyes
As the bond changes and grows
New feelings and hope cement the trust,
That hand in hand
Our dreams will seen

Looking Back/Looking Forward

I have been wondering about posting a 'Looking Back/Looking Forward' based post for at least a week now, but the tone and content of what I really want to say has changed daily. I then gave up and thought I wouldn't bother especially as I have been ill with some kind of flu/cold and not been out of bed for 5 days. As you can imagine, the post has got more and more negative as the germs took hold.


However, in this down time which I have been forced to take, I have realised a lot about myself and what needs to be 'fixed' to enable me to not only be happy but to start attracting and embracing all that I want from life. Someone made me realise that it is ok to ask for help. So I thought I would write as I know it will be important, this time next year when 'looking back'.

I did manage to drag myself out of bed on New Years Eve and spend a couple of hours with my friends to see in 2011. I am glad I made the effort - I figured feeling rotten and out would be better than in, alone and miserable. I got quite emotional at midnight as I said goodbye to 2010 which has been a hard and difficult year and tried to welcome 2011 and all that it may bring.

I am not going to go on about the bad times (there are enough miserable posts on here from the last few months) but I am going to make a list of my priorities for the next 12 months:

1. Fix what is broken and not be ashamed or scared of asking for help
2. Focus on the long term fixes - no more short terms (that includes men!)
3. Improve work/life balance
4. Stop looking so hard
5. Be open
6. Be honest - mainly with myself
7. Look after myself which means exercise, eating healthy and giving myself a break
8. Stop complaining about being lonely and do something about it
9. Protect myself
10. Learn to laugh and have fun again

Not much eh?

But 2011 needs to be about me and addressing some issues. 2010 was a lot of fun and I loved my year of being 30. I did things that I should have got out of my system when I was younger. So many experiences, giggles, great nights out and new friends but in doing that, I also lost something - not that I know what, but something is misplaced and 2011 needs to be about finding it and achieving a consistent happiness.

I am ready.

StoryTeller Memories

I knew that it was inevitable and that I would be poorly over the Christmas break. After pushing myself for a few months and despite the advice of others, I have ignored the need for some rest before now. I figured that as Christmas was 4 days off this year, that I would wait until then but I have taken double that time because of being in bed with the worst body aches, shivers and sweats I have had for years.

I am not very good at being ill (mind you, who is?) but when you live by yourself it can make you feel all the more lonely. Just wanting that certain someone to pop their head around the door to check you are ok, someone to bring food and drink when you legs just won't hold you up and someone to cuddle and ease you to sleep.

Last night I couldn't sleep, partly because of the constant cough but also because I was panicking and thinking about work and what I need and still have to do. A vicious circle because I could not relax and I coughed more. But, it made me think to when I was poorly when I was little and the days I would spend at home tucked up in bed. It made me think of stories, bedtimes stories and how I used to love being read to (and still do.)

My nan used to read us stories when we stayed at hers. My stories were all about fairies and magic, whilst my brothers combined all the action heroes working together to save the day. But for the days that I was at home, poorly or if I couldn't sleep, I had my StoryTeller.

StoryTeller came out every fortnight and each was a magazine and tape full of magical stories. It came out between 1982-'85 and I vaguely remember going to the newsagents to collect them - at being 3/4 years old, this might be one of my earliest memories.
In trying to remember some of the characters from the stories, which often featured in more than one issue, I found this on Wikipedia which made the memories come flooding back.
I had all 26 parts of StoryTeller 1 - that is 26 tapes and magazines which I listened to all the time. The Christmas edition was one of my favourites with the adventures of Timbertwig and Bertie's Escapade. I remember loving Bernard Cribbins voice and it sending me to sleep, the same with Shelia Hancocks in the stories
of Gobbolino, the little black witches cat.

I remembered the music, particularly on the ones that I didn't like or thatscared me and the illustrations which varied in style for each story.

I remembered how much I loved snuggling down in my bed, surrounded by teddies with my cassette player, listening to stories, never tiring of hearing them - always knowing when to pause, rewind or fast forward to my favourites. I remember being soothed by stories and new worlds. I am still no different today.

My mum still has the magazines and tapes - am going to make sure I pick them up soon, so that next time I am poorly, or just need some company or sending off to sleep, I can lose myself back in magical worlds.

Emotional Storm

I want to wrap you up
in fluffy white clouds
to rest your head
and your heavy heart

I want the sun to dazzle
on your skin
to make you smile
and to feel warm
with love

I want the rain
to wash away your
growing pain
and frustrated lies

I want you to see
through the mist and fog
that decisions must be made
for you can not weather the storm
resting on a fence

Love's Last Dance

Chris sat on the floor against the cold radiator. His knees pulled tight into his chest, his head rested on the tops of his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks onto his arms and down across his shins. It was summer yet the air was cold as he shivered against the coolness of the radiator.
His tears had been relentless, his heart was breaking within a body already ruined and a soul that had seen far too much for his years. For one moment he feelt better for the expulsion of emotion and the next, embarrassed for the scene he was creating. He was the only one in his room so he knew that there was no reason to feel this way yet, he felt hopeless and alone.

The morning had started well. A fresh Monday morning with the summer air warm but the English weather clouds were creating a heavy burden on the day. He felt positive and up beat about what was ahead and how he was going to achieve his dreams. At seven am he climbed out of bed and lit a cigarette, inhaling the smoke, filling his lungs with a comfort which had became a routine. His life was all about the routine from getting up, smoking a cigarette, using the bathroom, making tea, eating breakfast, going for a run, showering (which had its own routine) ironing his clothes, moisturising and getting dressed. For most mornings this routine would take 3 hours, after which he would leave his flat for work or be busy chasing up the next good thing. This morning however, something was different. He couldn’t place why but he felt different and his routine didn’t flow or feel as it should. On being dressed he didn’t leave but he sat in the chair in the corner of his room. It was an old chair with a individual old smell, one that tells a story.

Three hours passed and all he thought about was her.

They had met at a hotel several months before and he had been smitten from the first time he looked into her green eyes. From that moment they had been virtually inseparable. There wasn’t a day, or hour that didn’t go by that didn’t contain a message. Talk of how they would be together one day and how they look forward to the next touch, kiss and when they no longer have to hide.
Thoughts of her and what she meant to him kept him in a stance, the activities from their most recent weekend together tore lines through his heart and laid tracks in his mind. The sequence of events that happened next was not what was expected.

At three thirty in the afternoon, his mobile rang, startling him out of his daze which had left him exhausted. The call had no name but he knew the number. It was the number that he never wanted to call or receive calls from. The call represented a part of his life that he so desperately wanted to leave behind. Chris ignored the call, his heart began to beat, anxiety flushed over his skin and presented itself in small beads on his forehead. He picked up his mobile and moved it to the other side of the room, it rang again and a third, fourth and fifth time. His dealer would not give up, not when he had money to be made. As he sat, his legs curled under him he realised that the life he was living could no longer be sustained, that there was no fight left, the belief had slipped from his fingers leaving him empty and alone.

His thoughts switched to her, his girl; the girl he loved and the girl he knew he would lose. The thoughts of her smile, her skin, the smell of her hair, the way she looked at him when they laid naked next to each other, the curve of her hips and the way she was able to entwine herself into him so that their hearts beat as one.

He was torn. They had an understanding, one of trust and honesty, it was the foundation of their relationship and it was what they both needed and deserved to start over - one last time. Chris lit a cigarette, exhaling slowly as his heart pounded, for he knew what he had to do, what he should do was tell her , he couldn’t continue on this path but the more he thought about it and the more he rehearsed the words in his head, the more smoke in the room pressed on his heart and his hope that she would understand. He couldn’t bear this pain, this burden of his life and the person he had become. There seemed only one option. It had been almost a year ago that this option was last attempted, it hadn’t worked then but now it seemed more important, for he had failed himself and her.

With a sudden sense of determination, he picked up his phone and redialled that last missed call. The instructions were clear, he was to meet in the usual place in twenty minutes. He hung up, holding his phone in his hands, he sat back in the chair, the enormity of what he had just done and what he was about to do made is breathing deep and hard. His phone buzzed, startling him from his rhythm, his pulse reverberated through his whole body as he read the message. It was her; she had text to say she was thinking of him - asking what he was doing with his day. He couldn’t reply, there were no words to say how he felt. Flipping the phone shut he placed it in his jeans pocket, picked up his door keys and left his flat.

Five minutes later the deal was done and he possessed his way out. Overhead the clouds were forming and the wind was starting to pick up, it was as though the elements were preparing the introduction; the scene being set for his last performance.