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Pearls to Pigs

There’s this saying that comes to mind when thinking of people who take what’s good from you and misuse it, “don’t throw your pearls to pigs.” I did this a lot. I would give my very best to the very worst and never get any thanks or appreciation in return, which after a while made me quite upset.

I realised this was a patterned behaviour I had developed along the way. I would feel sorry for the wrong person, give them a chance in my life and shower them with love and affection. In return, I would wind up empty-handed, disappointed and mostly hurt, hurt because I was putting out so much good and getting absolutely nothing in return. It became a belief somehow that I was expected to perform on demand and give when asked, this was something only years of being forced into these patterns and forming this behaviour could have birthed.

It took me a long time to realise I was in fact not helping anyone especially myself. I really truly wanted to believe someone would finally appreciate me and all that I do, that love is an action and they know that and reciprocate their gratitude and form of love their way to me showing appreciation. This was never going to be the case. I was led to believe that you get what you give spiel but this was from narcissistic people who had their own agenda and gain from only my sacrifice, not theirs. I then began to form the mindset that I was now responsible for all these people just like me who needed someone to be the one to love them, help them unconditionally but never received it.

You can believe I got used, a lot. Now I tend to take a minute before feeling anything in every situation. I take a moment to focus and meditate on the truth in every area and aspect of what is happening and not what an over anxiously active mind can create. I begin to put everything into perspective and see I don’t owe anyone anything but I certainly deserve to be cared for in return, that I am simply not throwing my pearls to ungrateful pigs. Sure, a lot of people tend to have this idea now that you are needy or dependant but that is not the reality, in fact, they are along with critical and judgmental. You are simply learning to know the treasures you keep inside yourself and to not give them to simply anyone who may seem in need of them because not everyone will appreciate the gift you give them.

You see now why you must keep your gifts to yourself and only help those who truly need help. There are a lot of thieves and get rich quick types who are looking for the easy way out, but who does this benefit? You or them? It may seem like the right thing to do but it’s not. There are those who need to learn the hard way, whether it may be a friend, co-worker, someone your in a relationship with or would like to be or family. Let this lesson become a boundary, one you must learn to set for yourself. It will become the first hard lesson you do learn in breaking a toxic behaviour pattern. You do not owe anyone anything and vice versa, but if someone shows you kindness do not misplace that with ungratefulness, you must always shoe them great appreciation and that their sacrifice was not in vain, that they did not throw their pearl to a pig and you, in fact, are not a pig. Pig being a person who just keeps on gobbling up everything in their path with no consideration for those who gave it to you.

So before you decide or are guilt-tripped into helping someone, take that moment to put everything into perspective and see the truth for what it is. Will there be a resolution? Will there be reciprocation? Alternatively, will there just be another person using you because all you seem to do is give. Think about the people in your life who really need your help and are deserving of it, not just those you hope will deem you good finally after continually rescuing them from their own demise. Try it and see and don’t be surprised if you begin to preserve yourself, you won’t regret it.

Peace.

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Identity Crisis.

I watched a show last night about teenage girls locked in a Juvenile Prison in America, it was very interesting in a way I wan’t to share with you all. It started out the same, portraying these young girls aged 15 onwards as silly people making silly choices. They would talk about their childhood with a recurring theme of how they all needed their mums, their dad was absent, left or living their own selfish desires while they abandon their child. These girls talked a lot about how maybe they wouldn’t have ended up there if their dad was around when they needed him or their mother wasn’t a drug addicted and incarcerated. The sad part is there where also girls who had adoptive parents or their mother and step father who really, dearly, truly loved them with total devotion and heartbreak, begging them to never go back there and live a better life.

The more I watched, the more the truth unfolded. Patterns were forming and it seemed like a familiar story but what they didn’t expect was their guard to come down and thats when it began to sink in. At the tender age of 12 and 13 their choices began to change they began to change, not physically but emotionally. We become a new being searching for our own identity, trying to form and create ourselves based on a strength we never knew we had to do so. We begin to make our own decisions and our sense of independence grows deeper every day with every waking moment define something new for us. These young women were trying so hard to fit into their mothers role they had seen be acted out for so long. A life of drugs and crime. They tried their best to keep their cards hidden, but being so young they were still in this middle ground of child and young woman and they couldn’t fool anyone else let alone themselves. Their emotions were so raw and real and that kept them vulnerable to be moulded and change.

There was a need there, that they tried so hard to fill with drugs, crime and friends who made them feel more alive than their own parents ever did. Yet at the same time, they really began to crack and the truth could be seen behind every weak lie. They needed their mum and dad to love them, more than anyone or anything. There were girls who were taken in by grandparents, adoptive parents or foster parents because their own biological parents weren’t around and did more harm to them, turning them into a rage that could not be tamed than a decent person trying their best. That’s fair though, wouldn’t you be angry too if you went through what they endured at the hands of their own parent? There was the rare parent who did change their life around, stay out of prison, stay clean and when asked about their daughter, they cried. There was also the one parent who really tried their best, all they did was try give their child a right upbringing and when they were in Juvenile Prison, they would speak life over the child through a devotional prayer book for parents whilst on their way to work.

Amongst the sea of sadness and lost hope there was one girl who stood out the most. She handed herself in because she felt she had a debt to pay. Something that wasn’t even her fault, that she was genuinely not guilty of, could not forgive herself until she felt she had fully righted her wrong and placed herself into a situation she didn’t belong in. She tried to encourage others while in Juvenile Prison to make better choices, just let things goes and work on themselves. They had every opportunity to do so with teachers and facilities that would jumpstart them into a better, more promising future for them to succeed.

These girls were seeking an identity. They were trying so hard be something they weren’t and you could see it eating away at them with every lie they tried to hide their real true face. They constantly created this persona that they were the baddest, angriest most irrational person you shouldn’t mess with. This was a definite mechanism for protection, from all the times everyone in their life crossed boundaries they shouldn’t have, so in response to this, they had to protect themselves the only way they knew how, a lot of shouting and retaliation. Yet, when gently corrected you could see it fade immediately, that a hurt child was still in there, hoping that someone would stay long enough to see this through with them just long enough to get them to a new starting point in their life. You could see the variety of outcomes and responses, what nurtured this behaviour and the following outcome and consequence. The parents who did care could see the path they were choosing and how it was changing their child, even if the child didn’t realise. Being so young, they did not see the bigger picture. There will a time in their life and they will have all of this to look back on and I feel only regret and pain would be felt in that moment for them.

It all made sense. We do things to hurt others and in turn hurts us, we also do things to hurt ourselves on purpose. We as humans have this tendency to respond out of fear which was something they learned to do, quite well in fact. Now whether it was from being abused, boundaries not respected or fear of their parents response to an action, they were in this constant response mode activated by fear. It was this root that could be seen to lay bare for all, that the slightest inconvenience triggered their fear response resulting in anger and frustration even when they didn’t need to behave like that anymore. All the girls needed to hear was that they were put here on Earth for a reason and they are so valuable and they all really needed to hear it from the one social worker who never stopped trying to help them. The problem is for many of us we deny ourselves our try fate and destiny by deny our true identity. We take the hatred, abandonment and failure of those we depended on most and project that as we are the hated, abandoned, failure whom no one will love without a condition attached or some sort of unfair trade of give and take.

Who are we to take the identity of another person, what message does this send to anyone? We have no right to this as much as no one has a right to steal what you are and who you are. We tend to place ourselves in neat and tidy boxes to comprehend our lifestyle choices but we aren’t made for those boxes, we are far greater and we need to start listening to our inner self to hear it and then to trust it and then, follow through with it’s wise instruction. You know it’s right when it scares you, or so I have found because we are so afraid of the “what if” in every scenario usually revolving around failure or the permission we think we need to seek to approve our choice for us. These were not habits we were born with we were born with a heart beat that pumped before we thought, so we lived before we could act. Maybe trusting our heart before an action is the way it’s meant to be.

We can trust in ourselves. Sometimes we need to allow ourselves to stop living as if we still have these shadows that hang over us, defining our success, failure, choice and thoughts. That this time we choose our own truth, that we step out from everyones boxed categorisation and irrelevant opinion and we decide to follow through with who we actually are and not who they want us to be. Reality is when we are so young we need good guidance to help us listen and learn, to find our true inner voice and follow the path we desire, one that we can look back on and say “wow, I did it.” Not “why did I choose this.” So if you are standing at a crossroads looking back, decide to do what you feared the most and learn to accept your strengths and weaknesses. If you’re at the beginning, find someone you trust who really does love you and will help you buld your confidence to believe in yourself to achieve your goals, visions, dreams and truly succeed.

I believe in you.

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Choose your words Wisely

Everyday I wake up trying to think of words (that make sense 😂) and try to create quotes that encourage or reach people where they’re at. I’ve been through a bit an lot people don’t know about and so I hope by turnings those moments into something positive for others I can also heal.

I realised this was becoming a daily practice and challenge for me (in a good way) and that my first thought every day was about what way I was going to try and help others in the only way I thought I knew how, by writing. I tend to talk less because I’m more afraid of my words being worthless and I think that’s a really good thing.

If there’s one thing you get from this, choose your words consciously and wisely, speak to give life, not to just talk back. Words really do matter.

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The Villain in Me

As I get older I find I get so tired, you could say even exhausted just so easily. Like how I’m so tired of people who refuse to change, admit their faults to how badly they treat others, how rude and arrogant they can be, their selfish, self centred, self gain agenda. It’s just so tiring. Imagine being the only one who constantly makes the effort, who goes above and beyond any request or expectation because you truly care and you back your word with action, but they just don’t care. They are all talk and no action. They act to impress others and that’s really about it.

They are like a weight around you that won’t let go, it keeps pulling you further down into the depths of an unwavering sea of depression. You keep trying to pull the other way, trying to help them by pulling them to the surface but they won’t budge, they won’t let you breathe They’ll happily watch and stand by as you gasp for air. What do you do in this circumstance? How does one person change the world? It would seem they have to change themselves. I have learnt to let go. Let go of trying so hard to do the right thing by these people who couldn’t care less. I’ve stopped caring about their thoughts and opinions, especially their great ability to spread rumours and love for gossip. The main talking piece – Me. I’ve realised that it doesn’t matter what you do. You can try and do the right thing for them constantly and you’re not enough or you can walk away and they will talk badly about you and portray you as the villain. I’d rather be painted as a monster than be under the threat of one.

I’ve begun to understand why evil exists, why there will always be a “bad guy” in every story. Their frustrations and anger turns sour and after every attempt to be right and do right, they get tired, like me. Tired of being treated like garbage, tired of being walked over and stepped on, we are tired of the emotional booty call and temporary void filler we have become for you because we want people to know we understand what it’s like to have no one and nothing but they do not care. They take and steal and push and shove, they lie and create this environment where no one thrives but them. They use every weapon and word against you and play your good intentions against your emotions. You become their toy they do not treat with love and care. Instead you are now more raggedy than Ann. You are the broken puppet, the unvalued item to their puppet master persona. Holding yourself together by a thread. 

Nothing is ever going to change in their heroic self claimed status of what they do and don’t deserve and how they dictate what you can and cannot have. You’re broken down, you’re useless of not your own accord, your done. So when they begin to let you go and eventually throw you away don’t return to them with good intentions, return the risen villain they paint you to be. Strong, self reliant and most importantly, the loveable hero in your own story. Turn the tables and raise your voice. Let it be heard and not silenced. Let no one again use you and exhaust you. Do not waste your time on those who do not care for you or love you. Do not wait for them to admit their true intentions, their true feelings.

You are better, you are badass, you are real.

This is your story. Be your own hero. Image belongs to WaveLength.
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Character Profiles and Story Breakdown – Finding Hope

My story was based on the concept of Darkness being consumed by Light, that in everything in our lives, every situation or trouble we could call out to the light and it would hear us and help us resolve our situations. It would provide protection, safety, it would fight on our behalf and even for us. That light would find a way for us and take us to where we know we should be. It provides the compass along with Wakan Tanka to find our true home and identity. That we no longer face the trials of life alone but we can engage them head on knowing we are surrounded by our community, that we are safe in our home.

It’s very basis is we suffer, struggle and fight in what seems an endless battle until there is one fight we just can’t win yet survive. The reason is hidden within us, a light that saves us. How this story is to be interpreted is going to based on personal experiences. We all go through things in life and no one knows our battles but us and sometimes we just need to find people who will love ad support us, those who help guid us to a place where we can rest, somewhere we no longer have to find our selves fighting alone but we can stand stronger together against all that is out there.

Character Breakdown – Kira:

I really liked to the two variants of the name Kira. The Irish form was from the CIARA (KEER-A) which means Black. The Russian variant translates from Greek Cyrus meaning Lord, translating to Mistress or Ruler in the feminine form.

Kira is the heroin in my short story, Finding Hope. She has been through a lot, she lost her parents to a cursed sea monster, she tried looking for them only to be captured herself. She soon realises she was looking for more than her parents but a place to belong. She has found that with a new tribe and begins to realise this was her ancestors tribe. She had found her way back to where she needed to be thanks to one of the supreme beings.

Character Breakdown – Kaiju:

Kaiju is not technically a name, but a Japanese film genre and is literally translated to Strange Creature or in English, Monster. I liked the idea of incorporating the tie between cursed humans and Kaiju, Giant Monster, together because you get a sense of the presence they can bring to the story. A large character that is deviant and defiled causing havoc and destruction. Both excellent traits of a cursed human and of Kaiju.

Character Breakdown – Leora

I did a lot of research trying to find a name that would be fitting of a character who was supernatural in a sense and would be a bearer of light. I finally found the name Leora and liked how it sounded. It was more fitting as it translates to Light Unto Me or I Have Light. It was important to show the contrast between the forces of darkness versus the light and that this light was like no other. It had a intensity than could burn through darkness and bring an overwhelming sense of warmth and security to those who needed it. It also had the power to seek an answer and find a solution. Usually light can be used as a metaphor for a something that gives guidance or provides clarification, “now I can see, I understand” but here it was envisioned to be something so much stronger, that it was a force to not be reckoned with and it had the power to cause pain to the darkness or healing to those who sought after it.

Character Breakdown – Wakan Tanka:

This word translates to the Sacred or Divine in Lakota Orthography. It can also be referred to as Great Mystery as they are not monotheistic in their beliefs and I enjoyed writing about a a being that is divine and mysterious because their action and influence can also be divine and a great mystery. The Wakan Tanka could play a role that was above everyone else, doing as it pleased and it was to bring peace and safety to all people who sought after it or curses upon those who were evil and brought death to others.

The point to be made with this character is that there was this great power in one being, but when Kira came to the tribe and found the woman, she realised she was next in line, that this woman was in fact her maternal ancestor. She had been through so much and lived through something most would’ve died from but she had something with her, within her that was more powerful than her situation. Wakan Tanka is the basis that we carry strength in us and is truly recognised in full power when we go through great suffering. We see it work in us and for us, to protect us and show us how strong we are because of it.

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Anxiety

Anxiety is this voice in my soul saying don’t speak, it mimics the familiar voices and they mock what I do. It tears apart any shred of confidence, it pushes me away from my goal. It reminds me constantly how I shouldn’t speak because people will not listen and if by chance I say something it will be disagreeable and it won’t matter.

Anxiety always feels like the tightening in my throat, the reversal in my assurance, the one thing that blocks me from moving forward. It is like the pushing and shoving of a bully, the intimidator trying to press me down. I hope I can push them back hard enough and say no to silence them when they try to speak.

I try to remind myself that the only reason I feel this is because I do have something valuable to say, we all do. We all need to speak into being the words on our tongue for once and not allow their pushing to crush us. It’s the one force that tries to keep us hiding and scared so we may not reveal the truth to others.

We need to swallow the choking feeling, embracing the fear and darkness to allow our lips to utter every growing word from our soul to our tongue. That we could force ourselves to fight back against these thoughts and emotions so that each and every time we speak, we won’t bother to worry about others view of us.

We need to learn to block the thoughts of others maybe whispering, judging or making a mockery of us as we speak. That we could overcome these creeping thoughts in our mind and break through even if we aren’t able to eloquently pronounce words or seduce others with our lies. We are better to struggle telling the truth than to to keep feeding their obsession of keeping us down.

I’m trying to live from my mistakes of listening to those who spoke out against me. I try to have courage against them who want me forfeit what is truly mine. I hope I never get so damaged I lose my voice altogether. I’m really trying my hardest to keep pushing through the opposition and come out the other side victorious.

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Broken Pieces

How can I know pain until I’ve felt its tightening grip. How can I know heartache until every last thread has been ripped open. Every part of me is broken, I am like shattered glass on the cold and harsh hardwood floors, these are your words.You keep pressing down harder until you break me. I am the broken pieces lying on the floor for all the world to see. You have taken all my dignity and let me be seen.You will not respect me and sweep my brokeness into a heap.You throw me away like the broken toy I am to you, I am broken because of you.

Lying amongst the trash in a heap, I reflect the suns rays. I attract without know someone else who will come some day. They see my shimmer and watch my glittering shine. They pick up my pieces and think I’m divine. Carefully know I am collected, laid on their table to be reconnected. Here I am slowly but sure, with tender hands I am no longer broken.They stand back to see me as I once was, but this time I have been strengthened. Here I am no longer in Broken Pieces.

 

Image copyright belongs to M3ND Project. This Image is not my own.
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The devil inside

There is a sadness that can’t be beat, this constant reminder of what was. There is a brokenness that can’t be fixed and a loneliness that can’t be cured. Lingering thoughts of regret plague my mind and I am constantly reminded that time cannot be revisited and all I’ve lost along the way. I wish could be better than what I was and I wish I could fix this thought but it will never let me go. Between four walls I cannot escape the constant reminder of silence in absence of those who pretend to always be here. There is no more.

I have lost everything but my physical attendance to the sunrising, I may as well be a bird whose wings have been severed. I have been humiliated in a nakedness, left to lay bare. How can one made for such glory be found so weakly and refused. Rejected and broken with no where to go and forsaken by those who proclaim they love you. It will happen in this life, this lonely existence that only you can try to fix what is now broken but nothing can ever be the same again.

I wish there was fair warning but there was nothing, just betrayal and abandonment. It all got taken from my grasp, I was unprepared. Nothing can prepare you for a life of regret or those who keep you down. We get left with a broken mind, a broken heart and a broken spirit. The is such a brokenness that exists and it’s not of our own doing, yet we are to take the responsibility of what was done to us. We didn’t ask for this, we didn’t beg for this, we didn’t foresee this.

No one comes into this world prepared for the wickedness ahead. How do you win at random selection to have a life that is divine and beneficial to wellbeing. We do not control those around us but as the ones who are brought in, we are controlled indeed. We do our best and our best just is never satisfactory. You will never win at their games, you will be made out to be a fool for believing in a greater hope to just be. They will never leave to your peace and they will ensure your suffering is long and your time becomes short.

So we enjoy our time alone and our lives that are now void, we are so broken and don’t know where to turn but it’s all okay because that’s just what we do, we suffer at the hands of those who are pretentious and hollow. They have no more capacity to them then an empty balloon. They will wither and fade and we will remain strong in our broken spirit, our survival in our strength to find one glimpse of hope for love and safety. That we should no longer suffer at that hands of those who lay in waiting for us to stumble into their traps, to fall victim in their games.

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Don’t let the broken, shatter.

There is a brokenness inside me, it’s so heavy. I wish I could explain how much pain it brings me daily. It’s like heavy chains around my feet and I’ve been left to sink into the depths of sadness and despair. I’m pretty good at pretending that I forget sometimes where my face starts and where my mask ends. It turns me into a person who people pretend to care about based on their need. The guarantee is that I’m always there for them and they can promise they can never be there for me.

It works for me this pain I bare to everyone who is so blind to see. In their comfort zones I’m extradited and yet somehow fully aware. Promises of nothing and no one are preferred it’s potential to carry truth is finally there. No one pretending to matter or fake care. It works better for me, this understanding that I can bleed my life for them while their thirst for life is somewhat satisfied.

Pretending everything is okay is the best part, it means I’ve changed my mask again and that is an important part to this pain charade. You can’t have the same mask twice as they get bored and you don’t want to bore them. They will ignore you like their acknowledgement matters to your existence. So you better smile before you think twice.It doesn’t matter what you say or do they will always be the same. Talk about you behind your back and spread every little lie, letting them flourish and grow to brandish your good name. It doesn’t matter though they hunt in groups, that’s how they gain their strength. Without the masses to believe they’d just be a one man army with a megaphone.

So hear ye, hear ye all around hear my plea and cry, that if you know some one who suffers don’t leave them there to die. Be there for them no matter what, forsake yourself for once. Put another first and break the chain.

We can once and for all, altogether, finish this cycle of brokenness, darkness and pain.

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