Mitchell's Mustard Blog

October 12, 2017

Confession of an angry man

Filed under: A Little Something — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , — mitchellsmustard @ 5:57 pm

‘I have options’.

I’ve never been the easiest person to get along with, my armour is incredibly hard to penetrate. I don’t give anything away easily, my mind is a locked box of troubles and turbulence, tears and anger.  The inner me wants to see things burn, see myself burn. I’ve been like this since I gave up drugs. I’ve learnt to bite my tongue and swallow the blood. Sometimes I think I fear confrontation but in honest truth I fear never knowing which way it may go, how far I will go. I fear saying or doing things that can’t be taken back. I went through depression for a couple of years and came to terms with my troubles. We shook hands and agreed to stay on our own sides of my skin but every now and then I find myself questioning my decision. Maybe I should embrace my inner anger? I’m not too worried if people don’t like who I am, but I am worried that I won’t like who I will become. To meet me I have a calm and placid facade, jokes and tomfoolery. But like an old penny, I have another side, a side laced with melancholy thoughts, an anger that resides, kicking and screaming to be heard.    

But, just like that old penny I always remind myself that there are two sides, there are options. At any given moment I could go in swinging, frothing at the mouth, but I am thankful that I can compose myself. Walk away with my head held high while I extinguish the fire that licks the back of my teeth. I have options.

I understand that the voice inside that wishes to see my world in flames isn’t going anywhere any time soon, but I do hope that he eventually finds peace in the decisions I make because one thing he will never take from me is the other side of that old penny.

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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.

September 1, 2015

I’m in my 30’s, if I’m not happy with who I am now, I never will be.

Filed under: Just a Thought — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — mitchellsmustard @ 3:03 pm

‘I’m in my 30’s, if I’m not happy with who I am now, I never will be’ . . If you know me well, then there’s a high chance that you’ve heard these words come out of my mouth. I’ve always been a little different, a little bohemian. I get that from my father. It’s taken years for me to place it, an extrovert in my appearance, but introvert in new surroundings. In my 20’s, to be different, was to be judged. Especially when it comes to appearance. Growing up, I wanted to blend into the shadows, the faceless, in fear of being picked and pulled apart by those who seemed to preside. I’m not sure whether it’s now more acceptable to be yourself, which unfortunately I don’t think is true, or I’ve just grown to not care what others think. I remember a time when my confidence was lower than my heels, I’d be in a social gathering, surrounded by the local who’s who, generally an uncomfortable environment for me to be involved. I would hear someone laugh behind me and automatically think that they were talking and joking at my expense, I’d become anxious, reserved, and find that I would excuse myself from the rest of the evening. It wasn’t long after that that I’d excuse myself from the whole experience all together. The older I got, my confidence grew, to become who I wanted to be. I realised that if people wanted to have a negative opinion about me being comfortable in my own look, then . . I’d be comfortable and they can have their opinion, but that’s all it is, an opinion. I laugh it off now, ignore the comments, because negativity breeds on negativity.
Yes . . You might think I have a shit beard. Yes . . You might think I look stupid wearing skinny jeans tucked into boots. And yes . . You might think that I’m a blazer wearing wanker. But, I’m really not that bothered what you think. Full points on calling it a blazer and not a jacket though, well done.

One thing you can’t stop is that people around you will always have an opinion, and some will like to voice it. The one thing you can stop is giving a fuck what they think, you are who you are, be proud of that.

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.

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