Oh to be scared.......

I want to be scared

 I’m fascinated by the ability to scare, to be scared. Sometimes my expectations are dashed by whatever it is I’ve seen or heard or read, if it has failed to achieve the desired effects. I fear that perhaps I raise the bar too high. There was another world, where being scared came easier, when the world wasn’t quite so black and white, where things seemed more opaque.

 No God, no afterlife, no consequences

 We believe in nothing, we fear nothing. We have nothing to fear from the dead for we know they can’t come back now. There’s no God so why worry about consequences? There’s no price to pay in the hereafter for we know there isn’t one. There is just the now, just here in the present, with the past firmly behind us and the future straight ahead.

 Are we starring in our own horror?

 Perhaps that’s the best horror film of all, the world we’ve created for ourselves, and we’re acting in our own technicolour screamfest, each one of us playing a starring role. And like the characters in those old horror flicks, we’ve no idea we’re being watched. We don’t know what’s lurking behind us or ahead of us until we hear ourselves scream.

 Life in the 21^st century – horror at its best

 

“Unexpressed emotions will never die. They are buried alive and will come forth later in uglier ways.”   Sigmund Freud

Unedau gwag

Mae tu mewn I fy mhen yn ngwag
mae tu mewn I fy mhen yn ddu
does ddim byd arall yna
dim synadiau
dim meddylion
dim byd ond tywyllwch
tristwch, dagrau,
meddyliwn hyll
meddyliwn ddu

Hedd Wyn

Hedd Wyn was born Ellis Humphrey Evans, a sheep farmer from Meirionnydd whose interest in poetry had led to several competition entries in the Eisteddfodau. He was the eldest of 11 children.  When the Great War came he joined the army along with nearly 300, 000 other Welshmen. He joined the Royal Welsh Fusiliers and within a month of joining he was killed in the Battle of Pilken Ridge. In the same year his poem Yr Arwr won the coveted chair, but as he'd been killed in battle the chair was simply draped in a black cloth as the audience was given the bad news. Yr Arwr has since been described as one of the best winners of the Eisteddfod in the 20th century. Most of his poems focused on the horrors of war, including Rhyfel (War) and Y Blotyn Du (The Black Spot). The name he chose for himself is Welsh for white peace.

Yr Arwr


WYLO anniddig dwfn fy mlynyddoedd
A'm gwewyr glyw-wyd ar lwm greigleoedd
Canys Merch y Drycinoedd - oeddwn gynt:
Criwn ym mawrwynt ac oerni moroedd.

(There aren't any great translations of this poem that I could find, if anyone knows of any I'd be grateful for a link)




Y Blotyn Du


Nid oes gennym hawl ar y ser,
Na'r lleuad hiraethus chwaith,
Na'r cwmwl o aur a ymylch
Yng nghanol y glesni maith.
Nid oes gennym hawl ar ddim byd,
Ond ar yr hen ddaear wyw;
A honno sy'n anhrefn i gyd
Yng nghanol gogoniant Duw

http://www.firstworldwar.com/poetsandprose/wyn.htm

The Black Spot
We have no right to the stars,
Nor the homesick moon,
Nor the clouds edged with gold             
In the centre of the long blueness.
We have no right to anything
But the old and withered earth
That is all in chaos
At the centre of God's glory.

Hedd Wyn

Rhyfel

A gwaedd y bechgyn lond y gwynt,
 A'u gwaed yn gymysg efo'r glaw

"The shouts of the boys is in the wind
and their blood is mixed with the rain."


Gillian is a freelance writer and copywriter, her contact details are here www.taith.net/

Granny leave? No thanks

I have to say that I'm not at all keen on the idea of the unflatteringly titled "Granny leave," whoever coined that phrase needs to think up a better one. The idea of course is Harriet Harman's, who believes that grandmother's should be given special leave from work so they can look after their grandchildren, when their own children have gone back to work. This is because of course, looking after children isn't the responsibility of parents at all, it's the grandparents, because their lives are over and that's what they should be doing.

Why, may I ask, it is it incumbent upon Grandmothers, and I emphasise the word Grandmothers here seen as the word Grandpa has been left out of the equation, to look after the children when the parents go back to work?  Surprise, surprise but women are left once more holding the baby, never the husband and never the grandfather, but the mother and the grandmother. The grandfather of course will have far more important things to do like play golf and huff and puff while joining endless committees and worthy courses that no one else cares about.

Some things never change do they? It doesn't seem to have crossed Harriet Harman's mind that yet again women are expected to look after the babies in later life with no mention of the grandfathers. I find that ironic seen as she is meant to be "championing older women."

I'm not a grandmother yet, but when I am I'll look after my grandchildren when I'm asked, I'll babysit and more than likely enjoy it, but I won't be made to feel that it's my duty to do it because I don't have anything else going on in my life. When grandparents have spent their entire lives working and striving to pay the mortgage and raise their own children, surely they're allowed to spend some time at the end of it all, reaping the rewards of years of hard work while they still have some degree of health and fitness?

Why is there an automatic assumption that as people get older they're just there to play out what's left of their lives as a footnote in other people's lives with no regard for their own?

I realise that there'll be plenty of grandparents out there who'll welcome the proposals, but there are many out there that won't, (myself included when the time comes) who won't welcome the added pressure that'll be placed on them to take the granny leave and stay home with the grandchildren. Having had to do it once already with their own children, perhaps they have now carved out a career for themselves in later life, have money of their own and are enjoying the fruits of their hard work. However, it'll be pretty short lived once daughter or son pop out a baby and fully expect granny to take the leave, the baby - and get back to the kitchen.

Don't make grandparents feel the pressure, they're already facing the prospect of having to work until they drop without having to take on the responsibilities of young children. Great for those that want to, but for those that don't, it's nice to have the choice.

Swn gwyn

Pobl yn siarad ar y we am hyn ar llall

Am dan eu hun , storiau byr a hir

Straeon grim

Straeon  ddigalon

Ymlaen ac ymlaen

Fel swn gwyn

Byth yn stopio, yr un un peth

drosodd a drosodd

Tynu sylw at eu drama

Tynu sylw at eu hwynebau

Tynu sylw at eu bywydau byr

Ymlaen ac ymlaen  

Fel swn gwyn

"People can try to reinvent themselves. I don't think you can really change who you are, though, because who you are is pretty much where you came from and what you've done up to now."

Eminem

Wise words indeed from the forty year old rap artist.


 I like the idea of reinvention; to change myself completely, to try out a little metamorphosis and become another being, to slip out of my old skin and become something quite different. To jump out of my very own cocoon and come out as something quite different to what I was before. Perhaps it isn't necessary, you could just reinvent parts of your life, little parts that could be changed into something completely different, perhaps your history, your past. Then if you believed it enough, you could make it true. It would be real because you made it so.

If you believed it enough it could change everything, self belief is a powerful thing. I believe it therefore it is true. I am this, I am that, I am whatever I want you to believe I am. I think people already do that, I don't think I'm making revelations, I just think that some people are better at it than others. Being candid, wearing your heart on your sleeve can be very endearing, but sometimes it might be better to lie and let people see what you want them to see, that way you can leave the reinvention to them. They can recreate you in their eyes and you can just nod your head and go along with it.

I think that's what I shall do, as long as they don't change me into something I don't like.

The above picture is of a piece of artwork by Kate MacDowell, more of her work can be seen on http://katemacdowell.com/index.html I think the picture suited my mood. The one at the top of the page is called "The God of Change" which I thought was rather appropriate.

 

 

"Everything that kills me makes me feel alive."