Vanquished

Words

And it’s not because I don’t believe that you’ve never felt this
Or that I believe I’m the only one that’s in this
But who are you to hijack my pain?
To squelch across the floor of my beliefs
And try to show me that you’ve got this

Because you haven’t
And neither do I
And how do I move on from something so
Untouchable
So unbelievably vanquished
And sodden
I’m not the downtrodden
I don’t believe I will be down here forever

So pick yourself up and move on
Say motherfucker who are you
This is my life
And my beliefs in this trial are what I am
And so I stand
And here I am

Not only to become a man
Or a woman
But a person whose place in this universe isn’t predestined by someone else’s beliefs
But my own

I am who I am
And right now I stand here to tell you this
This is your life
Don’t let anybody say that you’re not right for this
Or that you can’t do what you want to do
cause its up to you

And I believe that
We are who we are
Never mind who they are
I stand alone as myself
And that’s all I’ve ever wanted to be.

-Steph

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Home: A Note from West Aus.

Planet, Words

Tasmania: hauntingly strange, painfully familiar, achingly far. It has an unsettling call that lashes wildly across ocean and desert; a spirited place with a frozen echo.

The island is both epically beautiful, and sincerely tragic, with rugged and brutal truths that were written in a long forgotten secret language.

Roads weave endlessly over steep rises and around sharp corners; you can feel the lingering nostalgia in the isolation, and hear the land whispering and murmuring to itself through the wind.

It is indescribable, and it is fascinating. It is cryptic, it is desolate, it is lonely. It is perfect.

I can’t wait to feel the cold air on my face.

tas1

Post # 2, loosely termed “Introduction Post”

Uncategorized

An introduction post is an intimidating thing. How do you say who you are, what you do and why you’re here in one post, (not too short or too long) without sounding like a poser or a self-inflated jerk?

Be damned if I know. Everything I write outside my journal these days sounds forced and self-conscious. That’s a big reason towards why I decided (for the umpteen-billionth time it seems) to start this blog. To find focus, inspiration, reasons to use the creativity and imagination that I KNOW is there, but is sometimes hard to find.

Writing to an audience the size of the world, and still not expecting to be heard by one soul after several posts, is not too different to being ignored and subsequently humiliated by a sheet of plasterboard.

So I’ll write as though it’s just for me, for now, (because it is just me for now), until I find my voice. Things will change frequently here as I greedily hone my way through the free themes I want to try, publish stupid posts, delete said posts and rewrite them frantically…

In the meantime, let’s just be happy that I’ve posted, in earnest.

R.