Particular Interest

Youtube Video: "Susan Cain: The power of introverts"

Intro: Ive followed these stories of wonder and of wealth but it lead me here to this darkness My greed and my vanity brought me down I was tempted by the snake and now my words burn begging for help Chorus: Holding my head under the vision The illusion – I think I am what I was but I have fallen down the rabbit hole tumbling down-losing my self – im alone losing the space, the place beneath me I am nowhere to be found this is my ending and my final farewell Verse 1: My head down, I walk in the rain thing about the fear of all the pain I crawl in the ashes seeing everything that could’ve been Ive learnt it the hard way Verse 2: Ive got nothing left to lose and everything to gain Im struggling and fighting through the fire oh the pain I will stand now, no more kneeling This one small leap will take my best but with music at my side I can still get up and fight Chorus 2: Holding my head under the vision The illusion – I think I am what I was ...

Is there anyone there, am I alone, Is this heaven, hell, it’s all unknown, Waiting for Godot, asks me why, That after the world war, number II, Did we lose faith, did we even try, Did we believe in Salvation or Damnation? Samuel Beckett’s text, an absurdist play, Makes us think in our own special way, That after the bomb, the cruelty, the madness, We waited and waited, for soon it became sadness, To witness simply, our own unknowingness, Was God there? Were we doomed from the start? In a cold war period people started to question, The existence of greater life, even their own position, For if there did exist a god, why did he let all this occur? Why did he not intervene, or is death what he would prefer? This religious uncertainty and waiting was beginning to deter, Even the strongest of believers, but religion still persisted and people still waited Vladamir says, when discussing “Our Saviour”, “Everybody. It’s the only version they know”, and I wager, T...

I can see the abrasions, the cuts, the scratches; they jar the otherwise smooth and polished surface. They blend into the metal, as if it was designed in such a way, blurring the crisp and clear image. I twist my wrist around, my eyes shifting their focus towards the centrepiece of a new but worn amulet. The funny thing is though; I don’t even look at it for the time. Instead, I just admire its beauty, its history and its wear overtime. I make sure I keep the face pointed towards the light though, much like a sunflower following the movement of the sun through the day, turning and twisting to survive against its will. He made sure that it was solar powered before he gave it to me. He probably found my love for the natural world when I would wander away from the family on outings, when I was two, wobbling towards the nearest animal – I’d even chase after pigeons. That was the first year I met him; our first family trip to visit the relatives in China. I don’t like to say I choose f...