In the calm

​Greeted by a wave
In a midst of a hurricane
The feelings came back
Flooding back
Light striking
Fading black
Earth shaking
Tree breaking
Feel as if the world is making
Sense
When nothing seemed real
Rawness was a type of shield
Swallowed up
Anything
Or everything
Left it blunt and dull
When all I ever wanted
Was to finally feel full

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Calm

There comes a time
When the stars align
And the world is fast asleep

Noises fade
Masks comes off
Nothing left to keep

The moon comes out
The sun is south
And darkness fills the air

Burdens are lifted
Worries are shifted
All is calm and fair

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Nostalgic gears

“Short stories are tiny windows into other worlds and other minds and other dreams. They are journeys you can make to the far side of the universe and still be back in time for dinner.”
Neil Gaiman

A long time ago I stopped writing short stories
I never consciously made the decision to stop
Rather, I preferred to write about deep complex characters with long back stories that I knew absolutely everything about
But as I began to write my first short story in probably 4 years my chest swelled up with nostalgic happiness
I used to get an idea and write down as much as I could so I could remember and write and move on to my next project
I had too many notebooks to keep track of and far too many characters and plot holes to maintain
But I was so happy
Each character and each plot hole was filled with so much imagination because of the freedom I had to write about absolutely anything
I like my long stories, my poetry, and my blog posts
But I really love opening the part of my brain that produces short stories
It’s the first time in a long time that the gears in my head are turning as much as they used to and I cannot believe I’ve missed it so much

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Thank You October

Dear October,

We started off pretty rough, I’m not going to lie. I had just spent an amazing week with three of my favourite people and suddenly I was landed in a month where nearly nothing made sense anymore. October you were probably my most difficult month, but I also feel like you were my month of healing. I gave myself space to think. When a dark cloud loomed over me I tried to get out from under it. I kept reminding myself of all the good things in my life because there was plenty of them. You were my month of healing because you were my month that I found the negativities in my life and tried to reduce them. My frustration of nothing going my way was outweighed by my mind finally wanting to be at ease and accept events without an obligation to change them. For some reason October, you were a very thoughtful month. I tried to beat a few habits, and failed, but I still felt your warm encouragement each crisp afternoon. I explored a bit more and learned to say no a bit more to things I didn’t want to do. You were a weird month this year. Usually, there is the fun fuss of halloween with an overall cheery eery atmosphere filling the air, but I concentrated on something else this year. Don’t get me wrong, I had a fun time when I wanted to. However, October you are the reason for my heavy heart to mend a little because although Halloween is in the air, so is the welcoming autumnal embrace. I’m a bit disappointed in not keeping up habits, but I’m not discouraged. October I learned a lot with you. It was fun, but now your warm welcome is fading and your bright colours are getting diminished. However, sometimes this isn’t a negative thing. Thank you for your help October. My mind has grown in size with your encouragement, and my soul is beginning to build up some self worth again.
Thank you October.

I’m looking forward to returning to your orange glow once again.
Eimear.

P.S. I definitely ate too much on Halloween and I already regret doing it next year

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Shaking it up a bit

Exactly a year ago I decided I wanted to keep a schedule on this blog. For 52 weeks I have not missed a post and well… I’m kinda proud of that! I had never kept a schedule before and I wanted to challenge myself to produce something every week for year. It encouraged me to write, to not write, to give the opportunity to guest post and overall just to prove to myself I can stick to something for a year.
Buuuuuut I didn’t decide not to post last Friday. I knew I had a self deadline…I just knew it had been a year and if I didn’t feel like writing I would give myself the week off.
It was strange.
For the past year I posted every Friday at 11pm (Irish Time) and received constant feedback, and love, and likes, and comments that I loved receiving. It was strange not waking up to that on Saturday morning, or any other day to follow. I don’t know if I missed it, or if it was just strange.
For a while I’ve been feeling like I’m causing more distance between myself and what I post weekly. What I’m producing each week isn’t really an accurate depiction of my writing, and I don’t know how I feel about that.
However, I liked writing weekly, but I’m going to change the day of publication to a weekday…..which I’ll eventually decide on.
There’s a few things I’ve learned about myself in the past year through my writing. These include such life lessons as poetry makes feelings easier to cover up, I like writing to and recapping on the months, likes are not an accurate representation of how good my writing is, the sea is very easy to write about, and I really like the Oxford comma… just to name a few!
Here’s to the next chapter of EimzPink
Thank you for the past 52 weeks ❤

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Searching for the Sun

 

Joy found herself in a slump but, not in the usual way.
Everyone has their down days, and this isn’t something she’s alien to.
This time it was different.
It wasn’t the usual sad cry over a puppy or worrying about something blown out of proportion. For those situations Joy is prepared. She has her happy playlist of songs. She has saved videos on YouTube that inspire her. She has her creativity as an outlet. She has people to share with and support. Joy is completely aware of all these things.
Yet, this time it was different for Joy.
It was different because she didn’t want to listen to the songs or watch the videos or talk to anyone. She wanted to remain sad, which scared her.
She did the opposite of what she usually does. She listened to sad music and watched sad videos, stopped engaging online and faded out of her social groups.
She doesn’t know why.
I don’t know why.
I don’t know what has caused the different hormones and stress levels and chemicals to react the way they have to create someone I don’t recognise.
I’m scared that I’ll remain this way.
But I’m even more scared that I’ll want to remain this way.
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