Healing
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I’ve been pondering on writing this piece for a few days now, wondering if it is suitable, wondering how to express it, especially as it’s kind of simple. Full disclosure, I have been back receiving therapy since October, on that journey of remaking, regrouping and rebuilding. One of the revelations from it, was the simple…
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I grew up with a weird knowledge of bricks. Not that it helped me to create anything other than Lego houses, or follow the instructions on Technic lego, creativity beyond the lego house a rarity, I mean who didnt want a perfectly comprised T shape house roof with all the red roof tiles in the…
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Who is it speaking? And who is it listening? Who is it hearing? and who is communicating? What happens when ‘I tell myself’ Who is the I, and who is the myself and who is the one that sees this happen? Who is the I that thinks, who is the I and who is the…
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No not these ones. You know the ones I mean. Not the beach ones, the ones that get filled with sand, or get fought over by those who’ve paid the tourist tax to hire then on a British cloudy (but was sunny that morning) kind of day. No, I don’t mean these ones. Im thinking…
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I can’t write anything new That has never been said before 130 million books before me Words by the billion reverberating on the internet What price for originality What burden does it carry? Trying to be new Yet this heart is unique and these hands that type stem from it And they see you And…
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Writing words. It’s Started again. Writing. Writing. The mind goes clear, the fog lift and the words come out again. Truth. Hope. Love. Wonder. Words. Feel. Alive. Soul gives. Hope springs. Forth. Writing. Writing. Making. Shaping. Creating. Meaning. Trying. Giving. True. Soul. Energy. Life. Feeling. Bliss again. Just writing. Fingers pounding. Not making Sense, of…
James Ballantyne 