A While

Good evening bloggers & readers,

It’s been quite a while since we last sat down and ‘read’ each other. I do hope you’re all good and well in this great wide world. How am I? I’m doing alright and the like, cheers. I’ve got to start looking for a smaller place live in with my sister now, the home we’re in at the moment is a little big for fit, so it’s time.

From the last time we spoke too, we’ve acquired a new family member! His name is Bullet, an abandoned kitten I found on the way home from work about a month ago. He’s fit and healthy, had his checks and will be muted soon, because if I recall, my friend in South Africa will be coming back to the UK with her cat, Cleo, and we’ll probably end up accommodating her before I head west.

Anyway, you might be wondering why I haven’t been blogging for a while – those who are followers and not just pretty picture frames in my sidebar everytime I check my blog. Well, I’ve just been busy, settling down all over again and getting on with my final year of university. It’s a very busy time, I can tell you. I really can’t wait until it’s over, so I can crack on with getting a solid job, applying for my masters. I do apologise for my choppy paragraphs, I’m lacking quite a lot of sleep – focus isn’t quite what it seems, but what really is? Haha, sorry, I’m just messing with you.

Anyway, I’m going to settle down with my lover with a nice cuppa.

Matt

Dear Sarah

I cannot thank you enough for the home and life you gave me, especially the love and care you sheltered me in for 21 years. It’s been truly fantastic. I know that you’ve fought through countless battles and would always come out on top, whether you lost or won them – your flawless optimism overpowered the chances. Undoubtedly, you’ve been the greatest gift to my family and me, because your free-spirited mind and motherly knack had always been so warm, so welcoming and so understanding.

Whenever you were down, we had always been by your side – even now. And through the years, you’ve taught me valuable lessons: you’ve shown me the things that an individual doesn’t see, but yourself; you’ve told me to take people as they come, and if they were brought up in such a way, you said to embrace it and believe that somewhere deep inside their soul, there is a light, waiting to be found – it was only a matter of time until that right person or event was to surface that.

You always had that ‘sixth sense’ about people. It may have not been absolutely 100%, but you were close to see through people. That sort of brushed off onto me, but unfortunately weakened as I grew older. I became blind to people’s entities. I’d end up trusting the wrong people, even when you warned me to be careful of them. It would only take one little pin-prick, and they would turn. I’d return to you, a mess, tell you the hell I went through, and you’d only say “I warned you, sweetheart”. Nodding, I knew I should’ve known better. I guess it was always in me. I wanted to impress, and by doing so, I would bite my tongue and let myself be pushed around. As those times became regular, a dangerous energy infested me, I soon became something so disapproving; my scathing anger was the result of my heart’s enragement. I would fight. I would hurt. It pained you, I knew it did. I heard it in your voice whenever I came back to tell you about it. You said I held a passionate nature that always wanted to seek acceptance, only because the idea of being lost frightened me. You knew I’d go about, silently, keeping my opinions to myself, until finally, I exploded. Bottling up thoughts is and will always be the worst thing to do.

So now, here I am, writing you a letter, telling you that I love you, reminding myself what is to come. I could always ask you what I should do, but you’re going to look at me and say “Embrace it, my darling”. Although, you already have, and I’ve shook my head in denial. I don’t want to go back; I’m here for a reason. I’m here for you – all of us are.

You’ve been amazing to me, and I cannot thank you enough for the life you’ve given me. You’ll be missed deeply – always and forever.

Lots of love from

Matt

Overcast

Morning bloggers & viewers,

Tis a fine day today – no sun whatsoever and the boiler is taking its time, so my plans to shower have been delayed.

If I’m honest, I’m finding this “Life story” diary thing tiresome and pretty much pathetic (personally). No one’s truly reading them, it’s uninteresting compared to bigger blogs. I’m still going through the poet’s block, but I can’t do a lot about that. A lot of followers are unfollowing because they’re probably put off by the daily blogging. Perhaps I shall keep this to a place where its welcome like tumblr or Facebook – or just not at all. I apologise to those who DO like reading about my day, but I’m going to have to move this or create a separate place for these.

As for today, I probably won’t be on due to errands, as well as spending time with my significant other.

Over and out!

Matt

A Stroll Round The Lake And Peculiar Dreams

Good afternoon bloggers & viewers,

Today has been yet again, another sunny and clear day in England. A lot of people are coming out and walking, jogging, all sorts – just coming out from the shelter and enjoying much deserved sun.

I went around a nature reserve lake this afternoon with the team. Plenty of swans, geese, ducks, coots, moorhens and even seagulls. Quite a few cherry trees and raspberries growing – picked a few, quite bitter because they’re not fully ripened. I don’t do nature picking often, but it was nice. It’s one of the many things I miss about living in the UK – not the miserable weather (because it was miserable where I’m situated anyway!). I’m slightly tanned from these couple of days worth of sunshine – not that I needed it, I’m quite tanned anyway, haha.

Anyway, lately, I’ve been having very peculiar dreams… I’ve had four dreams in a row, and they’re all very strange. My first dream was held in a library, where the librarians were very strict – so strict that if a noise was made, you were assassinated. Everything was quite dim, the furniture was that generic blue, the glass panes were covered by blinds, all drawn halfway, so people can look through. It all seems very school based – and surprisingly, it was. I was sat at a table, unpacking, and there were two people on the same one, two girls. One was very worried and panicked, the other was bubbly and chirpy. I asked the worried one what was wrong, she replied that she didn’t like the librarians. I asked the other girl why she was so happy, to which she replied with something about tomorrow being a nice day. Then, the first girl looked at me and said “You should see her, everyone’s about to leave”. Clearly, I must’ve been in this library during the final minutes before school ended. I’ve concluded that dream is related to people I know who are still in school. Anyhow, I packed all my things up: books and paper (all blank) and got up, walking down a corridor. It was very shady and dark, the blinds were drawn. I happen to walk past someone else I knew, who looked up and asked me why I was there. I said I was looking for someone – my ex. The person said they were at the back and were about to pass, so I walked on, and met the ex face to face. She said “Oh” in surprise and looked at me. I returned quite a stern gaze, but as I was about to say something, she looked away and tried walking past, there, my dream ended.

I’ve concluded that this dream happened because I recently read some poetry by my ex – out of curiosity – and seen the twists and turns she’s going through. But it has nothing to do with me anymore, her own self-pity and guilt, it was her choice in the end. Another thing is that, before we broke up, she was recently messaging me from school, in her library just as her summer holidays were coming. But the purpose of this dream? Perhaps I just want a final confrontation consciously, but in reality, I don’t want to confront her on anything of our split. What happened, happened; perhaps we were never meant to be, perhaps we were, but now, I have washed all I can of her in my system. C’est la vie.

My second dream consisted of two twins – female, black haired and very fair skin. It was a very brief dream (those ones you have just before you wake up). I was sat down with them, caught in a conversation with the eldest twin, but I had my eyes on the younger twin. But I had a running question in my mind that I can’t place. I held a firm look at the youngest twin, who flashed her lashes at me innocently, blatantly guilty of something. I woke up from this dream just as the eldest asked me “So what do you want?”

This dream has no relevance to me whatsoever. I’m not sure where it came from – usually dreams originate from things you’ve seen or though about consciously, but this one was random, yet I can piece some relevance to the previous dream the night before: dark colours. The twins’ hair was black, while the shadows in the library were very vivid in my unconscious mind. I’ve dreamt of darkness a lot of times the summer before. I speculate whether this is just a summer thing, because last year, such dreams lead to a fall of turmoil and somewhat pain. But those dreams were far more sinister and ambiguous, whilst these dreams are very mediocre.

Moving onto my third and fourth dream. I had two dreams in one night, the first visualising me getting attacked. I was protecting someone, my arms up in defense as someone behind me squealed and screamed as I got attacked by something sharp, because after the first blow, I bled. Whoever was above me, was male, and having a good hack at me. I felt nothing, but I held my guard. The dream quickly changed over a time which felt like an hour, where I was in a forest with a group of people. I was being flirted with, I didn’t know who, but by a female (orientation set straight and clear, obviously, haha), and I told this female that I couldn’t, as I ha/d/ve someone anyway. She shrugged and said fair enough, then spontaneously disappeared into a portal. Strange!

I figured that the first dream out of the two simply related to myself trying to defend someone dear to me, while the second referred to some approaches I’ve had in reality, haha. But the portal, I have no clue. Symbolic? Perhaps a hope for something, or an opening? I wouldn’t know, there are so many symbolic meanings to portals.

Drawing this to a close, I’m having a lovely dinner tonight: ye olde bangers and mash with beans and onion-fried courgettes – very tasty indeed! Also, I hope to talk to my significant other before tonight’s 9.30pm show on the telly (because I’m missing her so much!)

Over and out!

Matt

Beautiful Weather, Golfing And Sunday Roast

Afternoon bloggers & viewers,

How are we today? For those in the UK – the weather is absolutely beautiful! Breezy summer’s day. Hopefully this will stay and become officially summer. It’s been late coming to the UK, I’ve heard. I’ve gotten a little tan on my arms and legs – decided to wear shorts today because it is simply lovely today.

So today, Richard took us pitch n’ putt golfing and man, was it full of laughter. I’ve learnt today, that I’m the worst golfer ever: I hit the ball too far or in the wrong direction and lost it several times in the rough and shrubs. Tash followed shortly behind the golfing chaos, and Richard himself nearly took someone’s head off. But it was a great day out.

It still continues to shine as clear as a whistle now – all that remains is just the cool summer breeze. Sunday roast tonight as well – I’m looking forwards to it. Another thing is talking to my significant other later this evening – hoping she will be on soon. But given another hour, I will probably be eating dinner.

I’ll bring this to a close, as I feel my inner-poet tingling.

Over and out!

Hedgehog Opera

Good evening again, bloggers & viewers,

Hope you’re all well and fine tonight. The weather in England lately is quite pleasant. Today consisted of sunny-spells mainly – I had to get my sunnies out! But alas, it’s pleasant. Tomorrow’s forecast predicts some more sun, which is great, since I’m spending the day out sight-seeing with my sister and Richard.

You’ll notice the Facebook Page like widget on the side, but you will also realise that I’m struggling to link-in my posts automatically. Although I’ve figured that if I cannot harness such power, I will just share each post via WordPress to Facebook. Also, this is my 100th post! Horah for committed randomness and poetry!

I haven’t done a lot today besides going out with the gang, as well as enjoy the sun. However, during the early midnight hours, I was awakened by some squealing. Rest assured, readers, it wasn’t a person, but in fact, a hedgehog. For such little creatures, they squeal and screech like banshees during night battles. Luckily, I must have been exhausted from the day before, because the disturbance quickly became a distant hum. However, my sister and I were disturbed again by another peculiar noise: a man with a megaphone slurring strange words, over and over again perfectly in the right tone. By the sounds of it, he was circulating around the neighbourhood. I tried to drown it out in vain, but gave in and forced myself out of bed, nearly thumping the bunk above me, where my sister lay.

It’s a nice quarter past 10 now, so I’m going to wrap this up and write tomorrow at some point. I’m sightseeing tomorrow, which will be nice, because I’m a fond traveller, and I like seeing new places. Another thing I’d like to chat to my ‘spiritual advisor’, but my messages to make them to acknowledge me are going amiss. Not because they’re ignoring me, but because they are trying to occupy themselves up until my return.

I’m SourcedRemorses, commonly known as Matt. This has been a nice little filler of my day for this evening – stay tuned!

Vexed and Twisted

It’s 10.09pm as I write this – once again, brainlessly. I feel so discoloured, it angers me so. I’ve had a little anger spell earlier in the day and attempted to write, but, alas, I fail once again to compose something beautiful. Forced anger? Perhaps reactive anger? I cannot place it. I can focus on the emotion; it’s red. So deeply red. Scarlet red? No. Maybe crimson red? A dark red? I haven’t a clue. But I see it. It’s there. Glowing bright in my pupils that they dilate.

I’m so frustrated that I feel like this. I want to rid it away, but at the same time I long for its company to enthral and fester within me. To me, it is the gateway to limbo, for I will be able to write a masterpiece. I want to write something good and hearty, powerful like my old poems. I reminisce over such pieces and feel my present-self degrade under my own verbose lexis. I believe by doing this, it infuriates me further because I long to be that precise and sharp with words. Words written in such pieces came naturally; flowing without thought. They just came to mind and my fingertips. God, this is so irritating, it physically makes me tense and grind my teeth. Though, I shouldn’t keep it from you, audience, for you know it’s far more than just the literary block. There are more stresses on my shoulders, not just ill family members, a horrid dreadful, godforsaken disastrous break up, but more or so stresses with myself. I’m mad with myself. Day by day, this agitation grows and festers, so much that I want to rid the spores and just be nothing. Rid of my mind and heart.

Oh, I am so weary and irritated. I’m desperate to sink my literary teeth into something so hearty, and feast upon it for hours on end like I used to. I love poetry. And I’ve lost my beloved poetry book, let alone my talent. My talent has gone with the wind and disappeared into a mythical place. Along with my heart and mind. I cannot think straight or feel right. I seek refuge in close company, and it makes me forget about it all. But when I am reminded of all the damned affairs, I lose strength. The barriers collapse and in come the wretched cavalry. Then for hours on end, through a twisted cycle, I battle with self matters, trying to annihilate the pathetic, useless memories and so-called mindlessness matters. Argh! It irritates me so. Too much to even seek blame. There is no point in pointing the finger here. Perhaps such things are meant to happen, but then, my anger must have a reason to be so vibrant. I feel like I should destroy and break something. Break it so it feels how distorted my mind is. A beautiful, massive pandemonium.

I just want to break every little piece apart with my bare hands, so that whatever’s in my grasp, feels the intensity of anger in my blood. God, break this.

Ye Olde Brawl And Other Useless Matters

Good evening bloggers & viewers!

This is my first attempt to just talk about my life, really, which means you get a grasp of my hidden personage. However, there are rules and ethics that will prohibit any personal details in order to protect the privacy of others and myself, because the internet is such a dangerous place, and that no one truly likes to be publicly scandalised: we are not here to gossip, just here to talk about life – if you wish to find gossip, find a magazine! Anyway, shall we get down and jiggy with life? I think so.

As you know from my latest news post, I’ve been in some kind of quarrel and suffering the deadly poet’s block (and bet on your pretty and dashing faces that it is very irritating). I do believe that I have squeezed all the life out of my little ‘inspiration lemon’ and ended up with no sweet lemonade. I sit with my notepad / laptop hours on mend, writing and erasing poems that I feel that aren’t good or just rushed. My ‘spiritual advisor’ reckons that I’m desperately forcing my poetry, which is true. My best poems do seem to come out naturally at the time of the inspiration – and that’s what makes them enjoyable, as you guys have shown by liking and following. I have been trying to widen my horizons by reading books and just watching the world around me. However, I do have a crisis on my hands: I’ve lost my beloved book of classic poetry, and I can’t seem to find it, or even recall when I last had it, which is quite annoying! But, if you have any recommendations on what books I could read (I don’t like biographies and drama books, just for the record), leave the suggestions in the comments or, if you want to be a little more classier and formal, head to the contact page and send me an email/comment. Same thing, really, I don’t mind. Anyhow, moving on swiftly…

So, about this quarrel… Well, firstly, I have returned to my hometown: the ‘sunny’ blissful England. I can tell you now, I am quite thankful it hasn’t flooded here (for those who watch Sky News/BBC/ect. or live here) – I’m quite happy with the sombre classic rain and obviously the cold. But the weather where I’m situated was pretty much the same, so I was quite adjusted when I landed. So, the other night I decided to head down to ye locale just to ease off the nerves of such things, and it was quite late. A gentleman approached me, who clearly had a few to drink, and started getting a little funny with me (this expression means to start getting edge or awkward), and I kindly asked him to not cause any hassle with me. Well, my lovely peers and those who know me, will tell you that I am quite a beastly tank in person, and will also tell you that this man was quite daft in what he did.

The gentleman continued to get intrusive while I tried to use the first wave of defense to avoid any further instigation. The line was then crossed when he shoved me – typical male way of saying “Hey, I’m the alpha here”. I said to him “I don’t want this to turn bad, sir, leave me alone”, but eluding this problem was futile. He shoved again – harder this time – and spat in my face, cussing. I shoved back, and thus commenced the brawl. Funny, it turned out to be a lot worse than just two reasonably bulky men playing fisticuffs, because I was with a few members of my rugby team. So, you could imagine a moshpit in the middle of this medium-sized pub. What resulted in this was 6 people and myself being thrown and banned from that local, as well as gaining yet another Irish beauty (black eye), a busted lip and a couple of bruises. The perpetrator, however, was left slightly dazed. This then explains why I’m quite sore and fragile, however it is only clique of my… hmn… jaded… personage at them moment? Of course, there are family matters happening around me, and a recent breakdown in my life. However, I am working my way out of it – I think, along with the kind TLC from peers.

Anyway, I’m going to wrap this up and head to bed, I am visiting family tomorrow morning and I have a horrible body clock, which wakes me up around 7/8 – sometimes 6 – in the morning here. I hope this has been interesting to some extent and killed time for you;

I’m SourcedRemorses, commonly known as Matt, this is ‘The Manuscript‘, a place to learn a little more about myself; stay tuned!