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.


December 17, 2016

Forever Sleeping

Filed under: A Little Something, Just a Thought — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — mitchellsmustard @ 12:56 pm

As he lay motionless I placed my hand on his side, never have I felt something so cold and empty. He looked the same, but different. His golden coat looked grey, a misty outline of life laid to it’s lost meaning. My hand missed the rise and fall of his chest as I sat crossed legged next to him. I pulled at the neck of my school jumper as a distraction from the tears that fought my childlike pride. I knew I needed to leave but I wasn’t ready, I hadn’t said everything I needed but I still couldn’t find the words. It’s expected apparently, loss binds you up and you rush to say the right things rather than say what’s actually on your mind. Sitting here in the hallway of my family home, too young to understand how to feel and too naive for what happens next. Brushing my hand over him, feeling his greying coat between my fingers for the last time. Stroking him and rearranging his hair so he looking clean and neat, I didn’t want him to leave feeling unkempt and unloved because he couldn’t do it himself anymore. I leaned forward and rested my head against his, my pride gave way and let my emotions take over.

   “You’ll always be my boy, I love you”.

   Those are the words that I found, those are the words I’m pleased I said, those are the words that will stay with us forever.

   He had given me a childhood of love, a companion, a hairy four legged brother. It was a hard way for a young boy to say goodbye, a vision that will stay forever. I have so many fond memories of his character, his presence. Laying with him for hours with my head on his chest, the power of his existence beating against my ear. He’d follow us like there was something to gain, but in hindsight I think he felt like he had gaining by just being with us, by our side. The one thing I shall never forget . . For us he was our brother, our family member but we had the luxury of other things in our life. We had friends, jobs, school, the outside world. . For him we were everything.

   It was painful, the way you left us. It changed me, made me view things differently. There’s parts of me that wished we had never found you forever sleeping in our hallway, but there’s also parts of me that wouldn’t change a thing.

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.

February 15, 2015

To rise above my stature.

Filed under: A Little Something — Tags: , , , , , , , — mitchellsmustard @ 7:13 pm

I did something big today, I’m not talking humongous, or enormous . . . . but, big enough to make a difference. I know in the grand scheme of things it’s miniscule, a step amongst the stairs. It will only be seen as big in my eyes, that’s because it’s towards my own personal goal. I wanted to tell you about it, it feels selfish, but, I wanted to hear your voice today, I wanted you to tell me that you’re proud of me, tell me that it will all pay off, and that I should keep plugging away, because you believe in me. That’s what I wanted to hear today, but, we don’t always get what we want. I can only keep pushing on, wading through, in hopes of that day coming true. Days like this will always be bigger to me, than it will ever be to you.
You’ve always been that distant silhouette, the shadow in the corner of my eye when I lay alone, encrypted messages I receive from you in the smoke I exhale. Hearing your wisdom in the music I listen too, the meaning is always distorted behind the truth, you’re not here, you never really were.
So, I’ll keep pushing on, keep plugging away, because I know that one day you’ll show up, share this moment with me, whisper in my ear the things I need to know, the things I need to hear.
I’ll never need your approval, I don’t want you to hold my hand, walk me through this path I’ve decided to take. As always, I’d rather beg for forgiveness than ask for permission. But, to know you’re proud of me will always make me rise above my stature, sometimes we all need that little push.

November 27, 2011

Personal Battles

Filed under: Just a Thought — Tags: , , — mitchellsmustard @ 9:21 pm

Maybe I should learn to live and forget, maybe close my eyes and clear the regret. Playing my part whilst roaming this moving circumference, pull all the good things together and make my move. Up and down like a chipped piston, I can move, I can dodge but I’m still looking for that final blow. Eyes open and alert for that one moment, it’s what I’m waiting for. I know something is out there, when it shows its existence it’s up to me to grab it by the collar and shake or run knowing I’ll never return.  There’s nowhere to run and nowhere to hide, sitting in a silent cell and I can still hear my own insecurities. I’m scared of the truth, tired of the lies and my own deceiving thoughts, in the end it will be ok . . . That’s what they all say. As the penny drops my ears bleed, I believe but will never comprehend. I need a tourniquet as I thrash and break, I need this silent cell so I can mend. The sun will rise and warm my tears to bring a new outlook to the horizon, it doesn’t matter how far I run I will never be able to touch it. Knowing me I won’t give up easily.

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