Issara Simone Edwards's Blog, page 9

And Fever Ray said: ‘Keep the streets empty’.

Monday 16th of March 2020

Do you remember that dream I had, the one where only me and a few other people were left on the planet? Has it come true?

I went for a walk today, I needed to get out of the house, and it felt like paradise.

The streets were clean because there was no one out littering. When I did run into people they gave me space, no more trying to shove me out of the way or trying to walk through me like walking is some sort of power game. The world has become quiet, peaceful and people have become courteous and polite. Did such simple things have to come at this cost?

I walked for almost an hour, and I felt like the world was mine, there was nothing and no one to be scared of. I was Little Red Riding Hood, except I knew the Big Bad Wolf was in a hole somewhere hiding, too scared to come out and eat me in case he gets food poisoning.

I should be worried and afraid, I get that. But… it’s almost like my entire life has been worrying about one thing or the other. Now that there is something to worry about, my body’s like: ‘Okay, the threats here, we’ve prepared for this, we can relax now. It’s time to get on with things.’

1,2,3,4.

Tuesday 25th of February 2020:

My room feels cold and lifeless, like I’ve tried to fill it with art and life but it’s all fake. It’s hollow. It’s a tomb. I’m in a prison cell pretending it’s a palace. It’s isolation. Sometime’s that good. Tonight it’s not.

Thursday 27th of February 2020:

The sun’s out but it’s cold. I washed my hair this morning, put the hoover round, listened to music.

‘How are you feeling?’

‘Fine. A little tired. You?’

No answer.

My plants need re-potting.

Saturday 29th of February 2020:

I left my hat in a Prett in Cardiff. Does anything else need to be said?

I lost my favourite hat today. I was sad and cold. Then I got home, looked for a replacement. Problem solved.

I spent the day in Cardiff, a break from the norm. Went to the museum, wandered around, got hailed on. My next trip will be in summer. Three layers was not enough. Summer trips only from now on.

Tuesday 3rd of March 2020:

Are you searching for direction?

Let me help.

I’ve been questioning my idea of everything lately. What if everything I think I know is really something else? We’re only ever taught from the perspective of the teacher. What if our teachers have all been wrong? What if their teachers were?

Now, I want to unmake the world, make everyone question what they think they know. Because what if it’s all wrong. What if we’re all working from a faulty foundation?

What are we here for?

Monday 24th of February 2020

All I want to do is sleep and I’ve been fighting that all day and still doing nothing, so maybe sleep would have been an actual accomplishment. It’s 11:00 pm and I’m still fighting it. Because, now it’s 11:00 pm and I’ve done sweet F.A all day and don’t reserve sleep. I’m not who I want to be. But maybe I am me. Which is depressing. Is my natural state one of lazy nothingness?

I have literally, and I mean, literally, spent the whole day watching Netflix and YouTube. I’m a waste of a life. What can I do to make up for that?

Let’s talk about the cheat codes of the universe.

Okay, Good talk.

I even watched a make-up tutorial today. A make-up tutorial!

Let’s talk about my theories of what caused today, and previous days like this.

Booze.

I had a glass and a half of prosecco last night. I’m not saying I had a hangover, just that I do usually wake up depressed the day after I’ve drank something alcoholic. Which is why I only had a glass and a half then stopped. But perhaps even a glass and a half is too much.

2. Sugar.

Bad days happen after sugar binges. These things should be obvious to me, and I should know better, but still, yesterday, all with the prosecco there were cookies… and a syrup sponge pudding.

3. Dairy.

I discovered, the hard way, that I should avoid dairy and eggs on my new medication. When I cut these things out, I noticed I felt better in my body and also I felt better mentally. If I eat something with dairy in it, the next day my anxiety goes through the roof. Yet, still, I allow myself cheat days, days where I won’t take my meds so I can go out and have a nice dinner or something. Which was yesterday. I should know better. Vegan options only, dude.

So, in conclusion, today was self-inflicted. I suck, I suck, I suck.

Will I feel better tomorrow?

What did I eat today?

ToastA SandwichMore toastVegan pulled pork with rice, but it was white rice. Not my fault though, I ran out of brown and white was all I could find.

Damn it. I guess we’ll see then.

Enough wallowing. What would I be doing if I was my ideal self?

Probably sleeping because I would have earned it.

Maybe I’m being hard on myself. But if I’m not hard on myself, who else is going to be? Which is a terrible thought. Maybe I should change it. Maybe it should be: If I’m not nice to myself, who else is going to be?

Maybe I should treat myself how I want others to treat me. Maybe I should live by example, show other how to treat me, show my value kind of thing. Am I making sense? I’m so tired.

Tomorrow I will try to write at least a sentence.

Tomorrow is pancake day and I’ll be expected to make pancakes because no one else in this house know how to make them, apparently. I know, I’m calling bullshit too.

I don’t have to eat them. I can just make the, and watch everyone else eat them. I could do that. I won’t do that.

This whole week is going to be me in the fetal position crying over everything, isn’t it?

And yes, I know there are vegan pancake recipes out there, but I don’t want a riot on my hands tomorrow. I want peace in our time. Give the pancake masses what they want. It’s just one day.

‘Call Me By Your Name’ and the Ascent of Humanity.

“You’re too old not to accept people for who they are.” – ‘Call Me By Your Name’ (2017).

The revelations you have when you are nowhere near a pen and paper. I should become one of those people with a phone permanently grafted to my hand, that would solve the current problem of trying to recall everything I wanted to write.

I want to take a minute to set the current scene. I’m sat on my bed typing this, I have a desk but ninety-eight percent of the time it’s covered in papers and books. At this moment there’s only one clear corner and that’s only because I just removed a glass from there. I could tidy the desk of course, but sitting on the bed just seemed simpler.  I wanted to explain the desk for a reason, it implies something, it reflects something you need to know before we dive any further into this.

‘Call Me By Your Name’ (2017), I finally got around to watching the film and there is this one line that has been travelling with me ever since:

“You’re too old not to accept people for who they are.”

This morning, I finally cleared away enough mental clutter to figure out just exactly what it is about this line that won’t leave me alone. It implies something, it implies a lot actually. It’s the simplicity of  one line, hidden among a thousand others, holding an entire universe, I love those lines. So, let’s break it down.

Our main character, Elio is told by his father: “You’re too old not to accept people for who they are.” (In the 2007 book by Andre Aciman, the sentence reads: “My father laughed it off, saying I was too old not to accept people as they were.”) Taken in this context it suggests a fallibility we can have when we’re young that we shouldn’t carry with us into adulthood. Despite the fact that I think we’re less judgy when we’re young and intolerance is actually a learnt behaviour, it gives us an excuse, a pass for being young and stupid, for not knowing any better, a pass that we can’t use when we get to a certain age.

Now let’s pull the line outwards and see what it implies then: “You’re too old not to accept people for who they are.” It suggests an ascension, a raise in our conscious evolution. We’ve reached a point, a stage in humanity where we have no more excuses. We’re not a young race anymore, we’ve achieved enough, learnt enough, failed enough to know better. As a species we’re old enough now, evolved enough now, that acceptance of who people are should be a given.

Imagine a world where this is explained to everyone. As soon as something discriminatory, or genderist, or racist is expressed by a supposed adult who should know better, that someone responses with:  “You’re too old not to accept people for who they are.” Imagine that line and everything it carries being understood and accepted. Imagine how peaceful this world would become, imagine how welcoming and loving, imagine what we could become.

There’s also another way to look at this line, as a reflection of ourselves. “You’re too old not to accept people for who they are.” Taking this line back to the context of the film and using Elio as the representation of our own childish ego self, the line becomes not just about accepting others but accepting ourselves. Sometimes the things we mock in others, the things we don’t like, the things that we judge, are the things we don’t want to see or accept in ourselves.

I feel like for the most part we can live in a sort of denial state where we can only truly see ourselves through the reflection of others and we don’t always like what we see. So, we belittle it, we refuse it, we can become afraid of it. But we’re too old not to accept people for who they are, which means we’re too old not to accept ourselves as well. Even if we don’t know who we are yet, there should be an acceptance of that too. We’re old enough now to know better, we’ve got no more excuses.

Revelations

Friday 21st of February 2020.

Okay. We’re going to do quick bullet point revelations because it’s 1:00 am and I really should at least try to get a proper amount of sleep.

The things that I’m resistant to are the things that I need in my life.The places I have resistance towards are the places I need to go.When I feel resistance to writing it’s because I’m on the right track. So, stop getting off track.The song of the early morning is ‘Voices’ by Motionless in White.

Hi, again. It’s later now, after lunchish? Yeah, that’s a word. It’s after lunchish, and I have a question. Can music be a cure for depression? I’m asking for a reason.

Wednesday, the 19th, of this month, was not a good night for me. It got dark, and not just astronomically. Astronomically?

I was lying in my bed and that familiar voice returned telling me I would be better off dead. I didn’t want to listen, so I got up, put on my headphones and listened to some In this Moment. This then led me to Motionless in White. I listened to this band until almost three in the morning. How did it take me so long to discover this band? What was I doing before?

I’m not saying, ‘I was suicidal, then I listened to Motionless in White and now I’m cured.’ I’m really not, but music is and always has been a great… reliever. And stuff like this does tend to happen at various points of my life.

When I was struggling with stuff around my grandfather, PVRIS’ debut album came out and listening to that, on repeat, helped me get through it. Especially ‘My House’ that song was like a power anthem.

When I was at a really low point a couple of years ago, Twenty One Pilots released Trench and Years and Years, Palo Santo. These albums just kick started me, got me out of my own thoughts and my own passivity, made me feel excited about life again. And yes, I have no problem crossing genres, there should be no genres, just music.

I remember in school, as a goth, I was told I wasn’t allowed to like this one song by Jay-Z. I didn’t actually like the song, but I told everyone I did, just to piss all the other goths off. I also had to make it known to everyone that I didn’t like Marilyn Manson because I was told, ‘You’re not a really goth if you don’t like Marilyn Manson.’

I’m not a big fan of being told what I can and can’t do, or who I can and can’t be.

Tonight we are enemies

Thursday 20th of February 2020

Question: Are you your own worse enemy?

Answer: Yes.

Question: Where do we begin?

Answer: Let’s begin with a love letter.

I need some advice. I have a plan, a self-appointed mission. I know what I want, who I want to be, what I want to accomplish, I even know how to get there. My problem is I keep stalling. It’s almost like I don’t want to do the work I need to do to get there.

Do you think it’s because I have a plan, this set date in which I need to accomplish everything by? Is it the pressure of having a set path that’s crippling me? Or do you think it’s that I don’t want to do it? Maybe I don’t want what I think I do and my subconscious is telling me this by throwing up mental blocks. Over and over again, I’m left asking the question, do I want to be a writer, or is this a leftover dream from childhood?

Question: Do you enjoy writing?

Answer: Sometimes. Mostly it’s like an exercise, a mental exercise. Like those people who exercise not to stay fit, but because they actually enjoy exercising. Right now, I’m not enjoying it. It feels like mandatory gym day, with an aggressive personal trainer. And all I want to do is sit down and eat a cheese burger, vegan, of course.

I think I’ve figured out your problem. Sticking with your gym analogy, imagine you work out five times a week, alone in the gym but everyone in the world is blind. The result is you have the best body of your life but no one can see it. No matter how much we say we’re doing something for ourselves, we’re not. We need contact with others, and we need validation for the things we do.

Writing really can be a very lonely experience and I think that’s what you’re feeling. You need encouragement, you need a reason to keep going. My advice is to start sharing your work, get input from others, get a little recognition for what you do.

Later:

Who else is singing ‘Eternally Yours’ by Motionless in White to a glass of bourbon tonight? No one, just me? Okay then.

I’m writing again. I know, right. Well, I was writing, then I got to the part of my notes that said: ‘The dream’ and I was like ‘What?’ What does that mean? What did I mean? So, now I’m looking to see if I wrote down what I actually meant somewhere else, because that happens a lot. Well, I’m not looking right now, I’m here chatting you up, so to speak. Just wanted to give you an update on the madness. ‘The dream’ what the actual…?

Jonah

Tuesday 11th of February 2020

‘When’s it gonna stop?’

‘When we see the big whale.’

I tend to nest when I’m due on, and it’s not the cute nesting of blankets, cushions and candles, it’s more magpie nesting.

Things begin to accumulate around me. Where before I would see mess and tidy things away, now it becomes comforting, like a protective wall or shield is going up. A shield in this case which consists of books, pens, pencils, notebooks, yes there are cushions and blankets too, but mainly it’s just clutter.

When my period ends I’ll clean and everything will become orderly again. Yes, clean, because even debris, dust and crumbs on the carpet becomes a part of it. Instead of looking at the carpet and thinking I need to hoover, the dirty carpet also become comforting. A dirty carpet roots me, connects me. It’s no longer dust and dirt, it’s dead leaves composting into the ground around me, it’s microbes and organisms, it’s walking through a field of life.

It also reflects how I feel at this time, it’s a mirror. The carpet is where I am right now, defeated, given up on, resting. I’ll get to it when I’m done.

After my period I’ll hoover, and that will be a reflection too. I’m clean now, I’m ready, I can go on fighting, I can start again. I’m reset.

American Angels and the Search for the Perfect Sentence.

Forgotten Poems

– 22th of March 2017

“… say the right words, with the right emphasis, at the right time, you can make men weep, or cry with joy, change them. You can change people’s minds just with words…” – ‘The Shakespeare Code’, Doctor Who.

I’ve had a streak of bad luck recently, first my phone stopped working, then my laptop. What has ensued is a technology black out. Example, I’ve been reduced to writing this with a pen and paper, both of which I embarrassingly had to go out and buy.

I must admit though, as I sit and write this, there’s a calm and peaceful sense of nostalgia that’s radiating outwards from my hand and arm. The pen glides and dances a sporadic jig across the paper and slowly, I’m transported. It’s almost as though I’m sitting at a black bookcase sawed in half to make a desk, and…

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No Debts are Owed

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Thursday 30th of January 2020

Becoming invisible was the first trick I ever learned. The sad thing is, it was never a trick. That part was something I told myself to make it feel as though I had some sort of control. The truth is, I couldn’t make myself visible. The truth is, I was just ignored and unnoticed.

I thought that I was angry at one of my aunties for vanishing from my life. I thought I was annoyed because I didn’t get to be the one to say: ‘You’re toxic, I’m cutting you out’. Spoiler, I was wrong.

She had a breakdown and cut us all out of her life for the sake of her mental health. The part that hurt, and still hurts, is when I had a breakdown and, ended up in a really dark place, she made me apologise to her for it, for upsetting her, for inconveniencing her, for making her life more difficult. It feels like the world had to stop when she had a breakdown, but when it happened to me, what I needed went unseen, I went unseen.

Anyway, my point is, I’m tired of being invisible, I’ve done my best to keep myself small and contained to be loved by people who really only see themselves. Maybe I’m the same, but, I’m done.

I’ve done my best to avoid hurting people with my messy feelings, keeping it all to myself, what’s the point anymore?

It’s time to be brutal, it’s time to have fun, it’s time to make a scene.

I’ll be honest, this is probably just a reaction. This aunty, who cut us all out of her life two years ago, got on a plane, went to Dominica, put my grandparents in a care home and because she’s not speaking to anyone, didn’t tell anyone.

For the past two weeks, family members, family friends, have been calling my grandparents and not getting a reply. Everyone was thinking the worse, calling neighbours and other family members in Dominica to find out if anyone had heard from them, seen them.

A couple of days ago, my cousin, her son, caved and told us what had happened, saying he only waited so long to tell us because he was told not to. I won’t lie, this seems like a special kind of cruelty, people were losing their minds with worry. She couldn’t even send out a mass text?

So, I’m done. I’m really, really done at the moment.

Is anger really a negative emotion? I’ve been really thinking about this. In general, we’re told that it is, that we shouldn’t feel it, that it’s a deadly sin. But, are we just told that by the people that would be negatively effected by it, the people who would be forced to think and make changes, because of it? Is it just told to us by the people who would lose control of us?

What if anger isn’t a negative emotion? What if it’s a positive one? What if it has been the whole time? Anger pushes me, it makes me want to take action, defend myself, defend others, do better and prove people wrong. The last time I felt this angry at my family I wrote a book and got it published. Total plug. But also very true.

‘The Murder of Miss O’ written by me!

Anger is fuel, what will I do with it this time?

Being angry makes me want to live my life to the fullest, to show the person I’m angry at, that I’m doing great in spite of them, or to spite them, either way, the result’s the same.

Anyway, my mother’s been really sick today, the stress of everything has probably not helped her. I don’t so well with sick people, I’d be a terrible nurse. I turn into the harsh matron in those old movies that does what needs to be done but doesn’t take into account emotional needs. I turn into the. ‘Eat your chicken noodle soup and stop complaining before I brand you with this hot spoon’ kind of person. Not exaggerating. Luckily, the people who love me, love that about me. Everyone else, who cares?

The Genesis Pattern

Friday 10th of January 2020

There’s a beautiful impermanence to all things. Do you see it? It’s the nature of reality, the grand design woven into this tapestry. People aren’t meant to stay in our lives, abandonment issues aside.

There’s a duality that takes place within the relationships in our lives, within the people that come in and out of our lives. We become both teacher and student. As in, they have something to teach us and we have something to teach them, we have something to learn and they have something to learn.

When this exchange is complete, naturally, it’s time to move on, to repeat the pattern with another.

This exchange can take lifetimes, or a few weeks, you can grow with a person, become students together, or teachers together, or it can go back and forth, maybe forever, who knows.

My point is, my point was, moving away from someone isn’t necessarily abandonment, perhaps it’s just progress. Can all the people I’ve abandoned see it that way?

I’m done holding on to my abandonment wounds. Now let’s hope saying it makes it true.