Mitchell's Mustard Blog

October 11, 2015

Bricks and Mortar

Filed under: A Little Something — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — mitchellsmustard @ 5:36 pm

Dear you,

The reflection of the mirror never pays you justice. I sit there and watch as you get ready, knowing that you just can’t be replicated. Like that of a picture, beautiful, but never able to compete with the real spectacle. The glow, the desire, the overall being. I don’t know if this is real, so many questions. But none important enough to stop me admiring your presence. Believing in the tomorrow, the stars may not be aligned, but I’m working on that. I’ll roll my sleeves up and build the ideal setting. I’ll dig the tunnel, fix the bridge, pull your boat ashore. We are the river, not the drift wood. I’m not one for coasting, as long as I have strength, I’ll hold you high because I want to show you the sights. I have no interest in being your history, your regret, your once was. There’s no future in that, directionally driven and I wasn’t built with a reverse gear. Not born for games, the only match I’m looking for is one you can ignite, hold it under my heart so you can see me for who I am. In fear of the burn, but not enough to stop me from playing with fire. ‘Home is where your heart is’ they say, and I want you to be my bricks and mortar. Like a kite on a windy day, letting you down isn’t an option. We may dip, a little sway here and there, but there’s always the strength to bloom in the sky.
Because of you, I know that romance isn’t dead.

Me

October 9, 2015

The Cigar Shack

Filed under: Just a Thought — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , — mitchellsmustard @ 11:44 am

Holding light from times past, and a swirling desire for times to come. This little wooden pocket of memories, It’s filled with love. The kind of love you can’t buy, trade, or surrender. Tucked away in the centre of a city we love, a stone’s throw from the hustle, this little delicate corner always keeps the silence, for when we return. To step in and take a breath, to take a moment, an hour or two. There’s no busy clock hands, no intermittent reminders, all outside communication is sealed away in a bottle and thrown overboard until we decide to return to civilization. A little white china ashtray gripping our addiction as we pick at olives and pistachios. Cigarette smoke rising into a game of kiss chase, converging before dancing along the walls and running off into the night together, no looking back. As the evening starts to turn, the chill creeps in around the corners hungry for its first victim, only to be disappointed by the woolen tartan blankets that we find ourselves nestled up in. The contagious rhythms of Pink Floyd and laughter take over, folding the silence up, and keeping in a safe place for when it’s needed again. These sounds echoing around the walls before they become etched into the night sky. A delicate little spot that never seems to be busy, our own little find, tranquillity. The occasional interruption from the bar staff informing us of the origin and history from which our rum has endured. The ice gently singing a song as it taps the side of the glass, a sweet melody of partnership. Whether it sings for it’s own duet, or for us, we’ll never know. But we can always turn it into whatever we want, we’re both good at that, making any situation a good situation, our own. Eventually it becomes time, time to fold up the blankets, extinguish the cigarettes, let the ice finish it’s last tune. As we step away, we watch the lights fade as the cushions regain their original plump form. We know this little wooden pocket will be there when we return, for as long as we remember why it’s there, for us.

March 31, 2015

When was the last time you complimented someone?

Filed under: Just a Thought — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , — mitchellsmustard @ 12:19 pm

I’m no stranger to the occasional passing comment about the way I look, or especially the way I dress. When I say a ‘passing comment’, I don’t mean a compliment. It’s funny how people mainly voice their opinion when it’s negative, is this who we’re becoming? When was the last time you gave someone a compliment? It’s amazing how far a few nice words can go, can change someones view on the whole day.
I remember quite a few years ago, I was sat on a bus and noticed that someone had scribbled ‘You are beautiful’ on the back of the seat in front of me. The words looked worn, old, but they still held the strength of the day they were first written. These words were obviously penned for someone in mind, I hope they got them. It was strange, but those words made me smile. I know they weren’t written for me, and that wasn’t the point, it was the fact someone had written those words to make someone feel beautiful. It’s amazing how a couple of words can cause such an uplift. From that day forth, I made it a conscience effort to compliment, whether it was written, or verbally. To my loved ones, or even strangers that I have a conversation with. Something so small, yet something so powerful. Obviously there are boundaries with this, you can’t just walk up to a complete stranger and tell them they have a cracking arse! If you could, we’d all be doing it. Don’t forget that the main point of giving a compliment is to mean it, don’t just say it if you think it’s going to get you brownie points or it means nothing! A compliment should never be fuelled by personal gain.
It’s no secret to anyone who knows me well, I read a lot of books. What isn’t well known is that once I’m finished with them, before I take a select few to the charity shop I write a little motivational note in the front, such as ‘Today is your day’, ‘Smile’ or like the one that made me smile on the bus ‘You are beautiful’.
The importance behind this is how powerful words can be, something so simple, can mean something so amazing. But it can work both ways, words can also be painful, and vicious, so watch your tongue!
If you always have a negative opinion, you’ll only ever see negative results . . . I think it’s about time you went out and complimented someone.

March 20, 2015

No. 27

Filed under: A Little Something — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , — mitchellsmustard @ 8:02 pm

The pink and yellow petals merge the room together, a comfort blanket for the open minded. One room broken down into loving compartments, a collage of old and new, vintage and modern, love and hearts. All mirroring that of the beauty that resides. A creative mind that shines through in her surroundings, showing her touch, leaving a trail like a whisper, enough to know it was once created by her, and will stay that way until she decides otherwise. Scatter cushions and striped boxes, blankets and candles, all add to the surroundings that whip you up into a relaxed frenzy. Your personal nerves in battle with the rooms aura of comfort, standing on the edge while wrapped in cotton wool. Vacant picture frames waiting to be filled with memories and laughter, finding it hard to choose which smile from which day, they can’t all be on display, there are so many. A mesmerising clock hand, ticking in the background to remind you that time is still moving, but not for one moment are we in a rush. A brown leather sofa delicately carving the room in two, holding memories, heartache, and heroism. It will wrap you up in all occasions and remind you that taking a moment is good, good for you. Placement of ornaments that arouse thought, crystals to strengthen a mood and breed vitality into the room, all complimented by the faint hint of sage in the air to fluff and plump your negativity to a non existent state. The warmth and love between these four walls expelling any disbelief that this is a haven, a home, her home. A home of love, peace, and sanctuary.

March 7, 2015

A Smudge of the Retina.

Filed under: A Little Something — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , — mitchellsmustard @ 1:20 pm

A refreshing beauty, standing alone in a crowd, for all that surrounds is just a smudge of the retina. All just blending into nothingness, the air around, beaming ripples like a pebble in water. An oxygen pulse that pushes it’s own boundaries, to leave a state of breathlessness like a heavy side wind. A smile that cures any moment of insecurity, whipping that moment of existence into the mother of all storms, a storm that won’t settle until you part ways once again, and you’re left with the craving of destruction. Eyes that hold the appeal of a sunset over this city, will always stop you in your tracks to admire. A beauty that takes you away from a feeling of worry, to think, to see, to realise that you have a moment, a moment to exhale and believe, a figure that can mesmerise and hold your attention, to cause all that you shade your eyes from, it all just slowly becomes a smudge of the retina. And in the blink of an eye, this moment passes, just like this encounter. No recollection of time, it’s not needed, time will only ever be a hindrance, until you’re counting down the hours again.

Blog at WordPress.com.