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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April 18, 2015

We can’t afford to live like David Gandy

Filed under: My Work — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , — mitchellsmustard @ 5:28 pm

David_Gandy_by_Conor_Clinch_(2013)_-_cropped

In this day and age, for some unknown reason, most articles in which you read about mens fashion, health, and lifestyle expect us all to have unlimited funds from that rumored tree in the garden, and a constant day off from the sometimes overbearing rat race. I know we’d all love to live a lifestyle similar to Harvey Specter, you’d be crazy not to. But let’s be realistic here. Being a man of 32 years old, I’m one of few in a position of having very little depending on me. Most men at my age, shared with their partner, have a family to feed, bills to pay, larger financial expectations to fulfill. So it’s rare that today, a modern man like yourself, will flick through this months must have gentleman’s magazine and decide to treat yourself to this new seasons blazer that will cost the equivalent to your next months rent. Or maybe your new born baby can go without nappies for a week so you can pick up a pair of socks that apparently best compliment your new Italian leather loafers which last month put you in debt with your utility bills? What I’m asking is, because most of us live a realistic lifestyle, does that mean we can’t be seen as fashionable? If we can’t afford the luxuries of their advice does that mean we will struggle to look after our appearance? Do we have to follow the guidelines of these so called gentleman gurus that lead us to the temptation of being broke yet looking good with it? Of course not!
If you’re not bothered by the label that’s sewn into the garment then you’ll be just fine, sometimes people are more worried about the brand they wear than how the actual item looks. There’s an old and wise saying ‘Money can buy you a suit, but it can’t buy you taste’. We all know that person, whilst out for a pint, they tell you the brand and cost of every item they’re wearing. A man with taste doesn’t need to talk about what he’s wearing, where it’s from, or how much it cost. He’ll let his outfit do the talking.
What I’m trying to say is, don’t be fooled into thinking that the glossy dream on the pages of an over priced magazine are the instructions to a modern day gentleman. You don’t need to spend your annual income just to look good. The sooner we realise that we can’t afford to live a David Gandy lifestyle, the sooner we’ll be comfortable in our own style. Just remember, he gets paid to look that good! We all have our own style, we’re all that little bit different, roll with it.
Whatever you do, don’t let your baby go without nappies, if you do then that’s a clear sign that you have an issue that needs addressing and your dress sense is the least of your worries.

June 23, 2014

Lost Fragrance

Filed under: A Little Something — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — mitchellsmustard @ 12:47 pm

Her fragrance danced around the house like a whispered breeze, enough to distract but never enough to catch, to hold for a moment, to pull towards him and hope that she would follow close behind. The fragrance that’s missed but never lost. Voices of past conversations echo from wall to wall, but always in the adjacent room, a tease of his loneliness as he sat in silence. After all that had happened, it was the silence that strangled him, held him against his will. The sound of her singing in the shower, high pitched disagreements, her enticing moan as she straddled him, or her laugh that cradled. All lost without a decision to make, taken. The cruelty of her belongings still layered through his existence, he knew she would never return but he wasn’t quite ready to move anything in fear of forgetting. Every morning he was distracted until he absorbed the memories, seeing her medication in the bathroom, over and over he felt chewed up and spat out. Bitter, he blamed everyone, everything, he blamed the medication because that was the hope they had clung onto, a false hope that never paid off. Every night he was reminded of her frail body fall to the sickness that controlled her, consumed her. He had watched the disease wrap her up into an uncomfortable environment, pushing away and drifting off with exhaustion. Her pained facial expressions screamed in the silence of his mind. He felt lost, empty, and angry. He needed time, but that had slipped away from him just like her fragrance. They told him that each day will get easier, until then he’d breakdown, hiding his tears behind closed doors because the children couldn’t see him like this.

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