Wednesday

| 2019 | 04 | 17 | red |

life is a careful dance between the heart and the mind.

fighting, working, driving in tandem to push you forward but ultimately they have different goals.

the heart knows what it wants. the head knows how to get there.

right and wrong doesn't come into it.




april 17th had me bolting down the street.

i'd just been on the phone to my mum, complaining about some minor semantic error (i'm pretty hot on those atm), before realising - much to my error - i'd accidentally left my bright new flowers sitting beside my desk.

so there I was, sprinting down the road in my dungaree dress and denim jacket, clutching my bright red rucksack close to my chest.

it's quite iconic, that backpack. and something I'd recently pulled from the dead.

red, robust and very worn.

anyway.

back to the running.

it passed briefly through my mind that I wasn't even meant to be jogging - let alone running - before I truly ran out of steam and picked up a brisk walk to the other side of the road.

i was met by my boss (one of two) who refused to hand over said flowers until the identity of the sender was released.

I did my best.

but what this particular incident was interwoven with is the underlying trope of manipulative language. and how very often individuals do not realise the words they are using to reach the outcome they wish are devoid of emotion themselves.

gestures have meaning, both for the giver and the receiver. but when motive is unclear, clarity is required.

i want to know. i want to know if the drive if self centred or if it's truly to make me feel good. because the distinction is large.


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