work life musings.

I always find it strange to think about the frail yet dynamic nature of relationships, for all relationships; not just those reserved for a partner or significant other.

All it takes is a little time, sprinkled with a touch of space and your closest most bosom friend is now just another stranger.  But it works both ways, and I guess that’s where the solace lies.

I give credit where credit is due - thanks JVYN for introducing me to this little piece of gold.

I give credit where credit is due – thanks JVYN for introducing me to this little piece of literature beauty.

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Plywood, and other world intricacies.

I have an undiagnosed staring problem. I admit it.  I’m constantly looking at the people who pass me by, or over my shoulder, or simply scanning the room I’m in. So I’m observant, I don’t see what the problem is. Anyways, while scoping out my surroundings for potential safety hazards the other day; my stare grazed over a little boy sitting sideways on a chair, staring intensely at a wall. Although initially my gaze did not linger on him, I found it peculiar and did a double take. I looked at the wall first, trying to figure out what could possibly be so intriguing. I had nothing. Then I looked at him again, he was tracing his fingers along the differently coloured lines that made up the plywood wall.

Something simple and rather unremarkable to me, was complicated and intricate to someone else. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure. Perception here, is obviously the key. Everything is simultaneously simple and complicated, it really depends on how you look at it; which pretty much makes life one huge paradoxical oxymoron.

I was once quoted by a friend, it even made it to her Facebook profile (epic, I know). It was a statement made on what I can only assume was a completely inebriated night, as the details of it continue to remain fuzzy and on the periphery of my memory.

“The world is such a bitter place”.

But maybe, just maybe the world isn’t a bitter place at all. Maybe, I just needed some rose coloured glasses.

P.S. Does anyone know where I can find the poem: Love poem for no one in particular by Mark O’Brien?