I hate my job

I know in this financial climate that I should be really thankful that I have a job and in some ways I am. But I am so stuck in a rut. I work relief which is supposed to work that I can pick and chose when I work but the down side is sometimes there is no work. But what it really means is that you are supposed to be available to them whenever they want, up to and including 24 hours a day and then they can just stop using you for no reason what so ever and never give you a reason. Yesterday a member of staff told me that I was 'letting the side' down because I don't want to work 24 hours days (and can't really as I am a foster parent) and that I don't care about the clients or my fellow members of staff.

Perhaps she is right - I don't know. All I know is I have been put on so many times that it is hard to care all the time, sometimes I just want to work and have a life at home and for the balance to be good. Not this crap I am getting.

So I am trying to get another job - desperately applying for lots of school jobs that would provide me with a slightly better income and a reliable structure with time off with boy during the holidays. Trouble is I don't think I am going to get one of these jobs which probably means I never will. I have applied for loads (although not as many as I should as my enthusiasm is really waining) and only had one interview. So what am I doing wrong. Probably not filling in my applications right, not the right experience, don't know the right people etc, etc.

But the truth is I can't keep going as I am. So I am going to have to apply for other care jobs but am so afraid it will be just more of the same. They expect you to do long shifts with sleep ins, they expect you to drop everything for the client but expect to give nothing back. This month I am missing wages again, for the second month running, but have to wait yet another month to catch up.

I so wish I didn't have to work - I know that this is unreasonable and financially impossible but I also know that the worst stress in my life is caused by work.

Wish I believed I could get another job.

Dix

Hot

Now don't get me wrong I love the hot weather. It makes me feel good and it makes people happy. Sunshine makes people nicer to each other. I love nothing better than being outside basking in the sun (yeah bit like a whale!!!) and feeling how wonderful life is.

But last night it was just too bloody hot. I had the fan on most of the day and all night in the bedroom and it was still boiling. Trouble is I live in a chalet bungalow and the only room upstairs is our bedroom. It sits under a very dark roof and has only one window - this is not good for circulating the air. Sometimes I don't even mind it being really hot upstairs - I just lie there and enjoy the heat but something about yesterday was different. It was very close and hot. This just made it impossible to sleep; impossible to get comfortable.

I was aware of how much I was sweating (it was uncomfortable) and how much him lying next to me sweating - it was unpleasant. At some stage I should have just got up. I thought about chucking my tent up in the garden and sleeping out there. I should have done. Instead I lay there unable to sleep properly and then having some dreadful nightmare that made no sense and didn't seem to come to a conclusion.

I have two craps nights sleep now so I bet by tomorrow I will begin to feel awful and I have a busy weekend ahead.

Ah well, I better have a little afternoon nap - that always seems to help and feels like a naughty treat.

Dix

BR - Farewell, My Lovely by Raymond Chandler

I have always wanted to read a Raymond Chandler book but for some reason, really unknown to me, I didn't want to buy a new copy. So I have trawled the second hand shops looking for a copy of anything really.

At uni we did read some extracts and a short story and this is what got me interested and lodged the idea in the back of my head.

It is not that this is a brilliant book, in fact there were times when I struggled to keep up with the story (this may have been because I mainly read it when I was tired and just about to drop off to sleep - a couple of times I fell asleep with it glued to me face!) but there is definitely something about the way he writes that is well just amazing. It is hard to think that this was written so long ago - published 1969 - and although it did seem old in some ways, obviously short of technology and such like but even so certain paragraphs, certain sentences, places where he has put words together in such a way as to take my breathe away. Sometimes he just writes so well, so beautifully that nothing else matters.

I am glad I have read a Raymond Chandler at last. I will surely read another some day. I particularly want to read The Big Sleep and or any short stories if they exist. Sometimes it is just so awe inspiring to read words so beautifully written, they catch at me with almost lust and desire. Such beauty that I feel that I can never hope to reach. But it is good to try.

If you have never read one, read a Raymond Chandler - put it on your bucket list as a to do.

Dix

BR - The comforts of Madness by Paul Sayer

This book was lent to me by a friend and to be honest I was immediately attracted by the title. I have read a few books on the subject of madness and have found them interesting, thought provoking, sad or sometimes just not very good.

I sat outside in my summer house yesterday and read this book in one sitting. It is only 130ish pages long but it is still a long time since I have read a book in one sitting. I so enjoyed having the time and concentration to do this and was glad that the book held me to enable me to keep going. I felt very relaxed and chilled afterwards.

The book itself is very dark. The main character Peter is caught inside himself and is unable to escape. Many of his carers feel he is putting on, that he is able to break free but it soon becomes clear that he can't, that maybe he doesn't want to. The descriptions of him, both physically and mentally seemed very clear. I understood who he was and maybe even why he was. As he becomes more and more rigid and bent in his body somehow is mind becomes clearer (or so it appears to the reader who can see inside his head).

The ending is not upbeat - yet somehow it is not sad - somehow it feels inevitable and possibly kind. It is not a fun book, it has aspects that should make the reader explore their ideas of humanity, of madness, of what makes us.

The process of reading it for me was wonderful - a quiet, almost stolen couple of hours that reset my inner clock to a better calmness.

I think I would recommend this book to you - but in the proviso that you read it quickly (in one or two sittings only) because I think this is the only way you can get inside Peter's skin and understand his mind, understand his madness.

I'm not OK ... by Natasha Josefowitz

I'm Not OK, You're Not OK, but That's OK by Natasha Josefowitz

I have done bad things in my life
have had bad thoughts
I am not always kind
nor always generous
I have placed myself first
I have lied, cheated,
I have acted out of passion
which has hurt others.
I have been inconsiderate
punishing, even vengeful
and I have felt guilty
tried to make amends
tried to atone
made New Year's resolutions
about becoming better.

I know some very similar things about you.

So I'm not OK
and you're not OK:
but that's OK.

Something about this poem means so much to me. It's how I feel and I suspect how others feel to. We are not perfect although we try (I think lots of people try to be better and good - I am an eternal optimist and hopeful for mankind) but somehow we don't manage it and I guess this poem says 'that's OK'.

Dix

Pursuit - a poem by Stephen Dobyns

Each thing I do I rush through so I can do
something else. In such a way do the days pass –
a blend of stock car racing and the never
ending building of a gothic cathedral.
Through the windows of my speeding car, I see
all that I love falling away: books unread,
jokes untold, landscapes unvisited. And why?
What treasure do I expect in my future?
Rather it is the confusion of childhood
loping behind me, the chaos in the mind,
the failure chipping away at each success.
Glancing over my shoulder I see its shape
and so move forward, as someone in the woods
at night might hear the sound of approaching feet
and stop to listen, then, instead of silence
he hears some creature trying to be silent.
What else can he do but run? Rushing blindly
down the path, stumbling, struck in the face by sticks;
the other ever closer, yet not really
hurrying or out of breath, teasing its kill.


Poem, from "Cemetery Nights"

I 'borrowed or found' this on one of the blogs I follow (thanks Roses). It resonated with me and had touch me, made me think about how I live my life. It reads aloud so beautifully. I don't know who this man is but I feel what he is saying.

Hope you enjoy.

Dix

On attraction

I realise that this blog is going to make some people go oowghgwgh.... but it it time to say. I find Chris Evans really attractive and always have. I remember the first time I saw him on TV; it was probably the Breakfast show that he did and thinking 'oh he's nice' and then thinking 'oh I shouldn't be thinking that.' I know he has ginger hair and this is not a thing that normally does it for me (although sometimes it looks strawberry blonde and that's OK) and I know he reminds me of someone and that is definitely not a good thing.

I watch him on The One Show and I am becoming obsessed with his hands. He has small hands, hands that have probably never done a hard days work physically, small and slim but still manly. I just find them fascinating, I can't stop watching them and I know I would really like them to touch me. Now before everyone thinks this is some real pervy sexual thing I think I would be happy just to meet him and shake hands (see get that out of your mind). I also love his smile - its a little wonky and strange and happy and sad, if you get what I mean.

I know he dyes his hair, he says so on screen. Normally this would probably put me off somewhat but then he is a celebrity and I dye my hair so why shouldn't he. He has got a good sense of humour though and he always seems very alive, alert, and outgoing. I like that. He tries to keep that sour faced Welsh girl laughing (although she will never have a sense of humour).

I hope he is kind - this is always my biggest thought about someone famous. I would like to read his book but don't want to end up not liking him. I read the Paul O'Grady book and thought he was an absolutely horrible person - it has just put me right off him. My daughter told me last night (I didn't tell her about my attraction we were just talking about him) that Chris used to be married to that awful 'dog chopped' presenter of 'Loose Women' when he was young - I find her annoying, in fact annoying odd, so that could be a bad sign. But he was young. He was also married to Billy Piper but she has always come across as OK and he still talks about her with real affection.

So all I do is snuggle in front of the TV on Friday tea times and sit and watch Chris Evans on The One Show and think about his hands, think about how he looks like someone I once liked and think about how I once was a person who might have wanted to shake his hand.

Sad, I know, sad but kinda nice.


Dix

Ps I am attracted to Chris Evans but lets get this straight - he ain't no Richard Hammond.

Found Writings

I have just finished my notebook - the one I carry with me in my handbag and write down my thoughts, ideas and general info. This is a selection of those writings. Sorry - some may have been blogged before - some may not.

Cold Hard Cash

Why do the say 'cold hard cash?'

But not frozen solid money.

Yeah, cash is cold

but hard, maybe.

Hard to get.

Hard to keep.

Hard to touch? - Never.

Written 10/05/10 by Dix

The Financial Times

In times of credit crunch

and financial crashes,

unimaginable cash losses

and smashes,

futures are about gradualism,

time waiting and realism.

Written June 10 by Dix

Store

My grandmother-in-law

(if that makes sense),

liked to store food goods

just in case.

It's a habit she developed

during the war

and found hard to break.

Written 17/06/10 by Dix

Recycling Bags

Recycling bags

can't be stored -

they deteriorate

in the cupboard.

Recycling bags can't

be recycled

indefinitely.

Written June 2010 by Dix

Waiting Room

Sitting in the Doctor's waiting room listening to the banal local radio station mumbling in the background; not making eye contact with anyone. The ceaseless noise is interrupted by the ping pong of the intercom followed by a muffled voice calling out a name that nobody can hear and all wonder if it sounds like them.

The potential patients make their first eye contact, looking to see who owns the fluffed sounds. Eventually after much eye searching, it repeats and someone stands, hopefully, making their way through to door 1, 2 or 3.

They soon return, at the joy of those assembled waiting, clutching their green and white paper, wondering if they have the right diagnose; if they got the right prescription; if they spoke quickly enough or clearly enough to say what they needed in their allotted 5 minutes.

They leave the waiting room purposefully to complete the last part of the task. To dutifully queue at the Chemist and pay for their boxed or bottled prizes.

Dix

On Worry

I have always realised I am a terrible worrier. But I have never been sure if it is something I have developed or something I inherited. I know both my parents were a bit anxious (sometimes) but was never aware of them being over anxious and worried when I was a child.

I want everything to go well; for me and those around me. I want to feel like I am achieving; that I am making a difference at work and at home. And yet I know this is silly really. Why does this have to be - it is OK to just muddle along and be. It is OK to just work, pay the bills and have a good time. It is OK to sometimes be angry or ill or unhappy as long as you are happy and contented and well most of the time. I know these things.

At the moment I have a pain - in my side sort of tummy area (and that is how good I would be describing it to a doctor). It is niggly at the moment, making me stiff and catching my breath. Lets be honest it could be just a little bit of wind (it could also be a side effect of taking the Acia berry), but last night I layed in bed and proper fretted over it. In my mind it was something really bad and I would have to go into hospital and have an operation etc etc. So instead of having a good nights sleep I worried about something and nothing. And this morning I still have the pain, although it is bearable just annoying and nothing has happened and probably tomorrow it will be gone as quickly as it has arrived.

It is like I need something to worry about. I really don't - I have enough real problems that should be enough for me. Sometimes I wonder if I just have a drama queen personality or that I just can't stop worrying about stuff.

I would so love to have a worry free day - just relaxing doing whatever I want and not worrying about anything. Wouldn't that be great. Am I capable of it - probably not but it would be great to give it a go (with out the use of drugs or alcohol or anything else), just let my mind relax and forget it all.

I think it is something I should work towards - don't you.

Dix

On juggling

I am 50 years old and trying to manage a home; a 13 year old Kinship Foster Child; numerous money issues; tiredness and work. Trouble is I am not always managing it.

Yesterday was a perfect example of this problem. I was due to work all day yesterday (Sunday), not something I would have normally chosen to do as the weekend is always a nightmare. But we are short staffed and I thought I could manage it. And sometimes I can. Trouble is we have just had a change of staffing and the previous manager got completely mixed up when I told her which days I am available and which I am not. My hubbie has every other weekend off, but not this weekend and instead of putting me on his weekend offs, she put me the wrong way around.

So I have to get a baby sitter. This is difficult at the best of times but sometimes nearly impossible. Yesterday was all sorted. My daughter was happy to come and sit with Boy. Don't know she had much planned but anyway all was safe and happy. What happened to make the plan go wrong? Her mother-in-law was rushed in to hospital with a suspected stroke (second one) and she had to go to the hospital with her partner - he needed her support and I totally understand this. Trouble was the phone call came through 1 hour and 15 mins before I had to got to work.

What can I do? I rang the couple of other people who sometimes help out. One was away and the other I couldn't contact. Oh dear. Panic, panic, panic. I sat and thought about. I know that I have to stay with Boy. He is and will always be my first priority. So I ring work and get a not so nice reception. I can understand why but it doesn't help.

So where am I now. Well I am an unreliable worker and will probably lose my job (it is only relief and I am very replaceable). I can't get another job because I flag up as reliable. I need the money from working, if only part-time, it pays lots of bills. I need to be a good reliable foster carer, parent, mother figure; wife; home keeper; finance manager; budgeter; and all round perfect person.

Yesterday I failed on all fronts. And what did it make me feel like - well pretty lousy really.

And how did Boy react - not 'Oh great we have the day together to so stuff' - No - instead 'Oh will there be enough money to go on holiday now?'

I almost feel like I am too old to be doing this stuff - like I am trying the juggling but every day something hits the deck.

No work today - thank god - just a day to relax and take time to do for me - stuff the housework, stuff the money management - I am blogging, watching daytime soaps and meeting a mate for coffee.

I am juggling for me.

Dix

On Tiredness

The trouble is I am often tired - I mean really tired. So tired it is hard to do anything. When it hits me in the evening sometimes I can literally do nothing but go to sleep.

Work makes me incredibly tired. Even though I only do shortish shifts - sometimes I am absolutely exhausted. I sit down and that is it - almost like I just can't do anything else but sit and sleep.

I don't think this is normal - some people seem to be able to fit huge amounts into their days. They work and socialise and garden and still seem to get up early and stay up late. I can get up early, although I can never just wake up and get up. It always takes me at least half an hour of turning off the snooze on my mobile phone before I am able to get out of bed. Sometimes longer. I am never firing on all cylinders first thing either. I used to be able to stay up late, be awake and alert at all hours and full of life. I realise that my weight and stress has not helped in this and know that if I eat a better diet I always feel better but even so most days I could sleep 10 hours and still feel tired.

I don't sleep 10 hours - mostly I sleep 7 or 8 - but even so much of the evening is spent just chillin' out and getting nothing done.

I am 50 now, I manage to walk the dog every day for at least an hour (so that is good and it certainly keeps me sane), sometimes I cycle long distances with boy (15 miles plus), I try to walk instead of parking close by, swim when I can afford it and love being outside. These are all good things - I know they are and I feel proud of them.

But just sometimes I am so tired my body is screaming inside that I must lie down and go to sleep. I literally must. I am able to overcome this sometimes by just standing up and walking around but I always pay the cost for this - lots of aches and pains and then can't sleep when I need to.

Is this just old age? Is this about being overweight? Is it about stress? Or is it just me?

Dix

What ....

Today I had a really strange and annoying experience. Life at work is odd and sometimes difficult anyway so anything that makes it more difficult than it needs just makes life well... what?

I work with a women who I am having difficulty getting on with - we just don't sign from the same hymn sheet. She seems to cause confusion whenever she comes in - especially when I am there.

Today I asked her a simple question - 'Are you using the van all day tomorrow?' I didn't think it was a contentious question, I couldn't understand why it turned into one. Simple question - simple answer Yes or No. But no this is not what happened. Instead a surreal conversation that then involved the Service User I work with and then went into complete overload.

The outcome - the answer was Yes she has got the bus all day. But I was made to feel like I had done something wrong, which I hadn't, and realise it is just another nail in the coffin which means I wont get kept on as relief.

Thanks Pal ------for nothing.

Dix

Oh so sad....... probably

I am beginning to wonder if I am a really sad person. Why? Well I expect some could find lots of reasons but today I am talking about Christmas. The thing is I really like Christmas. It is not that I am some altruistic hero or something but I love looking for and finding presents that I think are just right for people. I love it when people truly like what I give them or I visit their homes and find my present in pride of place. My friend H, told me that the paintings I got her for her Christmas and birthday are some of her most prized possessions. I loved that.

So already, and it is only the beginning of of June, I am amassing, for it feels like amassing, Christmas presents. Most weeks I find something, some little bit from the pound shop or a painting on ebay or just some little thing anywhere. Rummaging around for Christmas presents. Often these things are original, cheap or reduced but all are chosen with an individual in mind. When I buy them they make me smile; or think of my family or friends; sometimes they just seem perfect.

I have them all in a big box at the top of the stairs. I try to write things down as I get them but usually fail at this task. So spend a quiet half hour, every so often, sorting through them, remembering the emotion of buying them and listing them (in the vague hope that I won't buy too much for one person and not enough for another). I hate buying last minute. Or even worse buying the same thing twice -I have managed that in the past.

Am I sad for this? Maybe. Have I got the spirit of Christmas, if somewhat materialistic - not sure. Will I continue to do this? Yeah, I expect so, when finances allow.

I guess I will never change. Christmas is just my thing. I love decorating madly with lots of colour and sparkle. I hate 'designer Christmas' - colours, themes bla, bla, bla.

So am I sad? You tell me.


Dix

About bonfires

Now I have always thought of my self as a fairly tolerant neighbour (others may tell you different) and just want every one to 'live and let live'. I know I am noisy sometimes and sometimes just want to be left alone to have a quiet life.

This morning I decided to have a lie in (don't worry I get to the bonfire bit soon). I love nothing more than relaxing in bed and listening to the birds and others getting on with their lives. It was 8 am and I knew I needed to get up but just thought, hey a few minutes longer.

Then the smell began, just a slight whiff at first, then it got stronger and stronger - a bloody bonfire. Well my first thought is always has a house or car caught alight - one of my neighbours did once have a garage go up in the middle of the night with lots of huge bangs where the gas tanks went up. But the smell got stronger and the air outside the window became dense with smog like smoke. Ah yes I know, the new house being built on the corner - the builders are burning stuff.

Trouble is the house next door to me has just had a huge extension and the builders did lots of burning then. And they always seem to light a fire when I have washing out, or are just about to put washing out and the day before has been drizzly and wet so I couldn't get anything dry. So I jumped out of bed, most unusual for me, and had to shut the bedroom window (something I hate doing in the summer) then came down the stairs mumbling about bonfires and bloody builders and having to shut the back door.

The smell has gone down somewhat, it is now mid morning. I have washing out just because I don't really have anywhere else to put it and I hate using the tumble dryer unless I have to. But the air still feels well, polluted and I hate it.

I love living near the sea because the air is so wonderful. It smells clean and full of sea air (if you know what I mean) and not full of car fumes and bonfires. I wonder about asking the builders to have fires later in the day but think this might make me look like an interfering neighbour (which from this blog I probably am), but also think well, it might be better to say what I feel as the solution might not bother them so much. Oh god I am running on but you see what I mean.

So I guess what I am saying is I hate bonfire smoke in the summer and am too 'lily livered' to do anything about it.

Dix

Shopping Today

Today I went shopping with an elderly relative. It is not that I mind taking her shopping, in fact I quite enjoy it but it is the hard physical work of pushing a wheelchair around town. Firstly putting it in and out of the car is hard, the boot of my car means that I have to lift it up and over rather than just slide it in. Then unload at the other end. None of the shops are really very wheelchair friendly and usually I have to carry bulky or awkward goods with me.

Then we go for lunch, which is a nice break. Then back to the hard grind of pushing a wheelchair, up and down, in and out before loading it all back into the car and going to the supermarket.

This is when it gets really awful. Usually I have to find a wheelchair or unload it all again. Then use one of those bloody awful wheelchair trolleys that are not big enough, don't fit on the trolley properly and nearly dislocate your back trying to push it around the store. The wheels on the trolley work against the wheels on the wheelchairs, all the goods are either on the top or bottom shelves and nothing is easy. It is really hard to manoeuvre and almost impossible to push around without knocking something down, hitting something or worse, somebody. Then at the tills it is always in the way and difficult to fill because the bags always seem to take up lots more space than the original goods.

So I pack it all back into the car, drive back to hers, unload it all, drive home and collapse.

I am sitting here tonight thinking that I feel like someone has found a tap on the back of me, turned it on and released all the energy I ever had.

There has got to be an easier way.

Dix

Shutting the Curtains

Now I know during this entry I am probably going to really show my age (and my inbuilt snobbishness) but I can't help it. I realised, reading other's bloggs, that I love the ones that are someone giving an opinion - even if I don't agree. Well here is my opinion on curtain pulling.

You see, I can't understand why people keep their curtains pulled all the time. We have scarce little daylight in the winter so getting any of it through the windows is an absolute bonus and during the summer, especially this year we are having some gorgeous weather and I can't wait to get up in the morning and let in the sunshine. And maybe that is me, my hippyism that enjoys the outdoors and nice weather. I certainly know that sunshine makes me feel so much better and helps my mental health, going outside, walking the dog whatever the weather helps me feel me good.

Anyway, back to the point. I have noticed that with each generation it seems to get worse - that each generation seem to want to spend there whole day with the curtains closed - shut inside a big dark den, burning electricity, watching TV or DVD's or playback on Sky+, playing computer games shut into the big dark den. First is was my own girls, who are both heading towards 30 now, they would never pull their curtains. Their excuse was we live in a bungalow and didn't want anyone 'purving' on them (they meant the guy across the road but that's another story). They have both moved out and into their own homes and still do it. I go to see my eldest daughter, who has this really cool bungalow with wide patio doors in the lounge and windows at the front down a nice long drive and all the curtains are closed. The sunshine is well and truly shut out! My younger daughter lets a bit more sunshine in when we are there. She has the biggest front bay windows on a flat in a Victorian villa, but I know she shuts out the sun loads too.

Now I have boy - he has been away this week, doing activities (and it has been gloriously quiet) but as soon as he came home all the curtains in his rooms were closed - well and truly firmly shut. From the outside it just looks horrible. I go in there and open them but as soon as he goes back in they are shut up tight again. In fact he has requested thicker, darker curtains to keep out the sun- huh!

When you drive around the area, there are a few houses that always have the curtains shut - well I know this is snobby but these are the houses that always have run down paintwork, rusty old bangers in the garden, old bits of furniture and black sacks hanging around and looked generally really unloved. The curtains look so tightly pulled together that it appears they have never been opened and often apart from the permanent rubbish like no one actually lives in there. These are not always young, or youngish people, but they are a type of person. You expect them, if they ever come outside, to be very pale, almost deathly looking, squinting at the sun as it burns there unprotected skin. These houses often have deliveries, like Tesco's and unidentified parcels. Just the door open quickly, a hand comes out, signs if necessary and then back to curtain drawn abyss.

Now, I guess I am old fashioned, but every morning my mum would get up, put the kettle on, let out the dog and pull the curtains. It was about starting the day and letting the daylight in. Even in the winter when it was either grey or still dark, the curtains were pulled and life began. Often with a conversation about what sort of weather we were going to have that day (is that very British or do all nationalities do this). I love to wake up with the daylight. If I get up in the night I will often pull the curtains, especially in the summer, to allow the sun to naturally wake me up. It is wonderful, to hear the birds, to feel the warm of the sunlight oozing through my eyelids and warming my soul.

Do I care if the neighbours are looking in? Not really, there is nothing much to see here, just us getting on with our daily lives and honestly, me with nothing on - not a pleasant sight and not one that anyone would want to experience often. Let them look I say, what have they to gain, but life through someone else. Not for me, although I like a bit of noisy but don't want to be watching others live.

So am I old fashioned. Should I really shut out the world and keep myself hidden behind curtains, not watching the wildlife or experiencing the weather. God I hope not. I hope up until my end of days I have the energy to get up in the morning, put the kettle on, let the dog out and pull the curtains. I do so hope....

Found writings

I found these next two pieces of work whilst doing some tidying. The first one was written to my cousin who committed suicide last year. I didn't know him well but am so sorry he has gone so soon. The second piece comes from working nights.

Simon

A shining light,

a beacon bright

that fades.

A silent smile.

A wave goodbye,

today.

Brown eyes deep,

that rarely weep

at all.

I wish I knew you better,

I should have took the time,

I should have understood.

What haunted you.

What haunts us all.

Nights

I hear noises that at first just interest me; then become persistently annoying; then worrying. Shadows and light that flicker in the peripherals of my eyes and make me wonder. That reminds me of old friends, long since left who wonder the corridors at night, still searching for the life they never knew.