Friday, April 9, 2010

Flashing Blue Light.

Flashing Blue Light.
You deviously pierce through my closed blinds and erotically dance on my walls at night - like a mirage that is in the distance, only really there to haunt me and to tease me. You force me to imagine my life as it were - before you started to disturb me, to hurt me. Seeing you makes my heart stop and cold blood run through my veins. Your presence scares me. Intimidates me.

You are like a signal to my soul, the thing that tells me to "get over it" to "move on" and "let live" - you are that image in my mind whenever I wonder if I have made a mistake. You are the thing that angers me and saddens me. You are my own personal sense of denial - the thing that makes me wish I did things better. You make me wonder what I did wrong to deserve you here. I don't want you here.

Luckily you are now gone, the nightmares and the sadness have subsided. I no longer feel that I am under your power nor do I feel vulnerable in your presence. I have left you behind. You are now but a mere thing of my past for you are a product of her. Of her car. You can have him for I have moved on.

Thursday, April 8, 2010

Pre-Exam Combat

The pre-exam jitters are already marching throughout my body in their attempt at creating an impenetrable battalion of nerves and angst. My stomach serves as the base-camp where the jitters have strategically forced the defending troops into retreat. It seems inevitable that my defense is down, that my own body can't even suppress the combative parts of my world. My brain is being poked, prodded and shocked from all angles - the amount of information that it is required to retain is extensive. At the end of a long day it feels as though there is a platoon of terrorists alongside the jitters - strapping my brain into a homemade bomb.

It is just like me to sacrifice all I can for another, to save them from a burning building, a hostage situation, or trench warfare - to suppress my own feelings and openly commit to the needs of others. Maybe that is where my so-called defense lies. My selflessness is to blame; Or perhaps it is the blood of a true Canadian that runs through my veins that influences peace and prosperity in my little soldiers. I am strong, I am proud and I am true - but we cannot let the jitters overcome us!

We will do what it takes! so, launch hot maple syrup bombs, coat your sore bodies with RUB A535, soak their combat suits with itching powder, bite, scratch, pull hair, spike their morning Timmies with laxatives; smoke bombs, chlorine-gas and rabid squirrels are a must.

Prepare for warfare my brave little soldiers, prepare to fight back. Prepare for bloodshed and pain. Raise those flags high and gear yourselves up for this monumental moment of defense; and remember: show no mercy!

Colleen Wilkinson