Where has the time gone? a work in progress

He stares at himself in the mirror, examining every single detail thoroughly. He eyes every wrinkle, every crow’s feet and every patch of white hairs scattered around his face.

 

Who is this man I see before me?

 

His eyes continue to skim the reflection as his mind starts racing.

 

Is that really me?

 

He runs his fingers gently down his face, slow enough so he feels every wrinkle, and almost feel like tiny speed bumps placed strategically over his face.

 

Sure feels like me, but it can’t be.

 

Startled by this vision he looks around the room. Pictures of the same figure are placed around the small bedroom. A few are hanging on the walls, a couple of them are fitted in beautiful frames on the dresser and one is on the edge of the mirror. Some only feature this figure, while others include what appear to be friends and family members.

 

I can’t be this old, can I? I still feel so young.

 

Uncertainty.

 

It was the only word that sprung to his mind. Weird thing was though, that he never felt unscertain about his life until this point.

He did his own thing in life. Procrastinated several times perhaps and enjoyed life in the moment, never once feeling older than eighteen. Twenty tops.

 

Where has the time gone?

 

Things did get lonelier and lonelier over the years though. It was to be expected of course. Companions moved on with their lives and took the required step into adulthood, a wife and kids and a cozy career. The whole package.

 

Every which way he turned, it was the same story.

 

Everywhere except for one place. That place was within him.

 

Uncertainty.

 

He never had much of an idea of what to do with his life. Although he had big dreams of being somebody who would leave a big impression on the world, things didn’t wind up in that destination.

 

He spent his days waiting.

 

He waited for that spark, the drive to find him. The passion he so sorely needed to find which would let him know what to do with his life, how to take the next step toward his future.

 

He waited, until it was too late.

 

Still not recognizing the strange, elderly figure staring back at him in the mirror, he shook his head in disbelieve.

 

Who are you?

 

He searched deep within his own conscious for an answer, without any result.

He didn’t know this person. Still he stared right back at him, mimicking his every move.

A frail, elderly stranger blankly staring into his soul.

 

Where has the time gone?

Everything’s coming up Milhouse!

So I just reduced my stress levels today. Spoke to my landlady.

I pretty much knew that we would be out of here sooner rather than later, but know I know that that sooner won’t be today-ish.

I’ve had a knot in my stomach for the past month about this, so having a decent clue about this helps a lot.

 

I still have to worry about getting a job and that sort of stuff, but it’s a load off not having to shake yourself to sleep by not knowing your answer.

 

speaking of not knowing the answer. I feel like I have some options coming up. I can try to find some overpriced apartment to move in to after a couple of months… I can move back to Sandgerði and hope to raise some cash, or, I can hope to not have a job so I could move abroad, look for a job in Europe and hope that works out for me.

This is the problem with not knowing your future, should I go to school or not?

And then he returned to his quest, more eager than before

It’s almost been a year…. man does time fly!

Life has been going up and down since my last post. I’ve had 3 jobs, a failed stint at a Masters program, currently unemployed, fatter than I would like to be and don’t really know what will happen with my living arrangement.  Joy oh joy.

I’ve been stressed out of my mind the past few days while I wait for an important answer. Can I stay or should I go now?

It’s silly though, I know that if I have to leave my apartment, I have the option of moving in with my loving family in Sandgerði.

The fact of the matter is though, I hate the wait, I hate having to defend myself on simple things. It’s one of the reasons why I dislike having a boss. Even if it’s the coolest boss in the world, someone you love and admire, you still have to answer to him when you make the tiniest of mistakes…

 

Have you ever had to do so?

Didn’t it make you feel like a little kid apologizing to his parents for getting into the sweets that were hidden away in the kitchen?

 

Point is, I don’t like having to answer for my actions. I’m 26 years old, why would anyone want to do that at that age?

 

I’m thinking that I’ll be starting this blog up again. Might help as a motivational tool, do need to get in shape again, do need to get my mind to happy again, and this is a nice place to vent.

 

This has been a decent start, obviously need to get back into the groove of this thing, so to end this for now, here are pictures of two of the most adorable dogs in the world.

until next time…

btw, post number 30. woohoo

 

He was a quiet man

So as I sat here watching the Liverpool vs Fulham football match, some thoughts kept popping up inside my brain. For starters I have recently found myself actually making the effort to watch the games my beloved team plays and that I honestly enjoy watching them again, something that has rarely happened for about a year and a half now. The other thought that repeatedly showed its way in my mind was the idea of how important confidence is, and how massive the effects of having a massive amount of it can be.

Now I know that I’m not coming up with a mindblowingly new formula here but bear with me, it’s just something that’s on my mind right now.

In life we tend to be overly self conscious about ourselves. Fear of failure hinders us from going after the ultimate prize, whatever that may be. A man gets rejected by one woman and automatically assumes that he is destined to walk the earth as a lonely virgin who will never enjoy the company of a woman. A kid fails horribly at playing football but doesn’t stop to think that maybe he would make a decent basketball player. You get where I’m going with this…

The reason that this got stuck on my mind while watching the football match is because how important confidence is to getting the desired results. It becomes quite clear when you see a team get on a bad run where it seems that no matter what they do, they just can’t make it work. The striker who on a good day could score easily from 30 yards out can’t even knock it in from 10 yards, the goalie who would make the most breathtaking saves now conceits to making the silliest of mistakes. If your confidence levels are up you are more likely to try and get yourself in the situation where you have to take a chance, a chance that you are comfortable in taking. You’re not hiding behind other players, your excuses or thinking to yourself that it obviously wasn’t meant to be. A confident man takes chances and prospers from them.

My goal for the year is to be more positive, find what I don’t like about me and instead of letting it affect me, fix it, make sure that I like me, which is the important thing. If you don’t like you then no one else will like you either.

 

 

 

The title btw is a reference to a title of a film starring Christian Slater, it’s a good one so check it out

Two poems to kick start the week

Sparky

He forced himself to think what the dog must have gone through,

all the pain that and sorrow he had to endure in those final moments.

He loved that dog since he first came to stay at the house over ten years ago,

years they had spent side by side through thick and thin.

At moments when it seemed no one cared, the dog looked up

and placed its head softly on his lap,

almost as if to say, I care.

Today felt unreal, like something that wasn’t supposed to happen yet.

He wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet.

Those final moments he spent stroking his fur and scratching him behind the ears,

Sparky used to love that,

and as he looked him tearfully in the eyes, Sparky placed his paw on his hand,

put his head softly on his lap,

almost as if to say, I love you.

 

The Production

This charming production featured Rita as the girlfriend,

perfection envisioned, she caused envy from women she met.

Her smile lit up the room and her heart drew people to her.

Her eyes told a different tale, one of pain, hatred and resentment,

but most of all they told a tale of emptiness.

On the surface her life seemed perfect,

underneath was an elaborate production,

a play with several characters, each feeling less real than the other.

The perfect girlfriend, the happy daughter and the ambitious student.

Rita had wardrobes, scripts and scenarios fitting all her characters,

but none fit Rita.

 

 

So these are a couple of poems that I have written recently. Decided as a self made writing prompt to take a random line from a random book in my bookshelf and create a poem out of it. The first line in the first poem is from I Am Legend, and the first line in the 2nd poem is from a Dexter novel.

I would really love some feedback on these, what’s good, what’s bad. hopefully I will get some of either

Big hill of hope

I turned 25 last month. 25 years spent on this planet, a quarter of a century. One can’t help but sit back and think about all this time that has passed by ever so quickly.

I was born and met most of my friends at an early age. It wasn’t long until it was time to be thrown into kindergarten, then the 1st grade and music lessons soon followed. More school, some adventures along the way and voila! Here I sit in my bed late at night in my apartment in Reykjavík, writing my thoughts down in this blog entry as they so carelessly float through my mind.

After a few minutes where you look back at what you have done in your lifetime, and the question inevitably leads to: Are you doing anything different then what you were doing five years ago? It kind of shocked me to realize that I am basically in the same footsteps as I was then. I say basically the same steps because I must admit I have done stuff along the way. Living abroad changes you, opens your eyes to the world beyond your own backyard and makes you appreciate the different cultures of life. I graduated with a Bachelor of Arts degree, something that scared me five years ago.

I am however still living life with the safety wheels on. Living life paycheck to paycheck, only getting the below mediocre jobs when I work and going to school because that’s the way it’s supposed to be. At least that’s what you keep telling yourself. More school equals more money equals more happiness. I used to obey that rule, but now, I don’t know anymore.

I spent about six months being excited about going back to school, less than two to figure out that this wasn’t what I wanted. I don’t want to be a journalist, at least not the type they are teaching us to be in my studies. I made that realization in October, and I think that it’s useless to carry on just because I feel I should.

25 years old and nothing substantial to show for it. Think it might be time to start taking a few risks in this thing called life. Don’t really want to be looking back five years from now and have to come to the same conclusion as I do just now.

Twenty – five years and my life is still
Trying to get up that great big hill of hope
For a destination

Stuck in a moment

It’s getting cold outside. Those who know me are probably aware of the fact that I dislike the cold. I am not a big fan of snow. It’s a nice feature of Christmas but other than that I could well do without it. It’s wet and cold and it gets my car stuck when I need to be somewhere. The winter period in Iceland is therefore not a friend of mine.

One of my flat mates had the perfect idea though. Instead of being stuck in a country where the temperature is rapidly  descending towards a negative number, he just hopped on a plane to sunny Spain. If I wouldn’t have had school that needed to be focused on, or would have had any money, I would have been on the same flight enjoying an ice cold beer in the hot sun, the way life was meant to be enjoyed.

On the subject of school, I find myself torn between the choices for next year. Do I stay or do I quit? I’ve only been back since the start of September but already I feel jaded. I like school, like learning something new and enjoy meeting new people. I do, however, not enjoy the stress that follows being a full time student. Spending many many hours a week doing homework, preparing for presentations, reading hundreds of pages about subjects I do not care about etc etc. just doesn’t sound all that thrilling in my head.

I enjoy writing, fiction writing. Being creative and able to put myself out there, my way, is something that thrills me. For too long this has been a dream that seems out of reach, and I guess I’ve used other factors as excuses to protect myself from taking that leap. What if I attempt and fail? It’s easy to blame outside factors on your inability to get stuff done. I can’t do this because I have to do that. I feel like I’m getting sick of that attitude and that it’s time to just go for it, reach for the sky and take that leap. Remove that outside factor and place the world in my own hands. Study what I feel could better my craft, at my own pace without the added pressure that accompanies the university life.

I could really use some advice on this matter since I’m  really torn on a decision. Thank you.

In the meantime here are some funny cats:

If my posts were pennies I’d have a quarter by now

Dreams can be weird, and super real as well. Just today as I took a well deserved power nap I, for some reason, dreamed that I was playing dodge ball. It was an exciting match that went into overtime. Just as we were about to enter sudden death, I got struck with the ball, and I swear, I felt it and woke up immediately. It felt so immensely real, just like the countless dreams I’ve had were I’m falling and then wake up because it feels as if I’m falling.

The thing about dreams that bothers me though, is the fact that most of the time  I can’t remember them. Some of my best fiction writing ideas have come with my head latched softly on my pillow. Short stories, poems or just ideas for works have been found out in the middle of the night where I have jumped straight out of bed and plant my ass in front of my laptop. Glorious moments that give hope and joyfulness.  So not remembering these magical events really does suck.

Something from day’s of old

Had the sudden urge to post something today, but then writer’s block struck me hard (That’s what she said) so instead I’m going to dig deep into my poetry chest and post two poems I wrote during my Marshall U days. Really like those so I would appreciate some feedback.

 

Lady of the night

 

She takes a look at the face in the mirror,

Makes the final touches

As the announcer calls her name.

It may not be the most respectable job,

But, for the length of a tune,

She feels alive again, beautiful and sexy.

She is in control.

The bravest of men grow timid

When they look in her eyes.

Her moves easily hypnotize.

 

Back home, she´s powerless,

A housewife.

Her life is not terrible,

There´s just something missing,

That little spark,

Some attention perhaps.

Few days a week she stuffs her bag,

“I´m going to the gym with the girls.”

 

She steps through the curtains,

Greeted by cigarettes and spotlights.

As she curves to the rhythm,

She glances over the crowd tossing

Flattery and dollars.

That missing spark has been found.

 

Pennies

The storm rattles the window

Of the small but cozy dorm room.

Inside we sit and ponder,

Perhaps we could watch paint dry?

“The presidential debates are on,” my roommate says.

We turn on the news

And observe eagerly.

 

The candidates talk about war, economy and change.

Change! Pennies for everyone! We shout

And throw pennies in the air.

Pennies from our cup,

Pennies for throwing.

 

They are also pennies for the homeless

Living on the streets,

Thirty-seven cents to aid their struggle

In an unforgiving world.

 

These are their pennies.

 

Back to School

I feel rejuvenated, like I’ve been born again; a new man of equal awesomeness.

School started up yesterday. It’s been a little over a year since I graduated and got my BA degree and I sure have missed it.  It’s such an exciting, yet at the same time scary feeling to be starting all over again. New people to meet, teachers to greet and homework to do. Getting the study plan for the semester and noticing what they expect of you over the course of the semester always seem to make the butterflies in your stomach go bonkers, which make your mind start wondering whether or not you are ready for this challenge.

But then the excitement starts kicking in. New people to meet! New teachers to greet and several new challenges to tackle regarding all the homework you’ll be assigned. Think about it this way, if you weren’t going to take a shot at this challenge, it would just be another thing in your life that you didn’t experience. For this reason I welcome this school year.

Of course it’s going to take time getting used to the transition of being back in school. I don’t anticipate successfully adjusting my routine to include homework until at least the second week of classes, but that’s alright because from that moment on there’s no stopping me in my path.

I have no idea what this semester is going to be like. I do not know if I end up loving the path I am taking or if I end up wanting to change lanes somewhere in the middle. I enjoy this feeling, the feeling of the unknown. It makes me feel alive and keeps my fire burning. If I don’t know what the experience is like, I am going to want to venture out and figure it out. And venture out I shall!