Remembering who I am.

With so many things happening around me I feel that I am losing a sense of myself. This is the very ‘self’ that I have worked tirelessly to rediscover, and the thought of losing sight of it is devastatingly cruel. I’ve spent days thinking about ways that will allow me to keep my identity in a society that seems so bloody hell bent of stripping me of all originality. I haven’t found the answer. I have discovered that even though I don’t know the words to many songs, and I don’t like bands, forget buying me an album it’ll stay in its little plastic wrapper gathering dust. I love music, I love the lyrics they resonate with me, they remind me of the past, they make me think of the future. Music is part of my soul, a part of me. Today i’m gonna share this song…

I love this song, the beat, the words, the memories. Everything about this song makes my soul sing.

This song reminds me of when I was a teenager, one specific guy, a wanna be biker who thought he was the bees knees.

I was maybe 15 he was 17/18. He had all the charm and a bike to match. A nice bike, a very nice bike all chrome and black he clearly thought he was gods gift as he rode along the country roads. Of course I was fooled by him at first, who wouldn’t be? He turned out to be a typical poser looking for a trophy on the end of his arm. He’d take me out on the bike to bars and show off his gothic girlfriend. I was young and impressionable, but I wasn’t stupid. It didn’t take long for the real him to appear, telling me to dress a certain way, wear my hair, just, like, this. Well we’d been dating a few weeks when he decided to make a pass at a close friend of mine. We had a show down, in a supermarket car park. I thought that was the end of it all. I got drunk with friends, laughed and forgot all about him, Till I got home. There on my couch balling his eyes out to my Dad was this guy. Telling my Dad that I was the love of his life, asking my Dad for my hand in marriage. Crying because mean old me had dumped him. My Dad looked up at me, asked what happened, I told him. I swear I felt the air turn blue and a static charge fill the air as my Dad laughed, and laughed and continued laughing, until finally telling the guy to ‘fuck off outta here you fucking cry baby, you wanna grow yaself a pair balls mate!’ Ha ha ha my Dad rocks!

I hear so many people saying that they wish they could forget the memories of the past, but, the memories are what keep me alive, they remind of who I am and who I am not. They are a key part of my evolution.

Published by

blossom666

Welcome to my blog! Here you will find different forms of creative writing, lots of swearing, erotic poetry, random thoughts, beautiful imagery, but most of all you will find a version of truth. My truth, this is the way that I see the world. However, all of my work is a form of creative writing, a combination of truth and fiction. I write to express my creativity, not my needs!

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