A huge leap

Let me just give this post some context first before I bore you all to death with useless ramblings.

I wrote this post freehand 4 weeks ago, however I've kept a hold of it until the start of this week for very specific reasons, I didn't want to jinx a potentially life changing opportunity. I'm not normally superstitious but I was taking no chances.

I'll get back to this at the end of the aforementioned useless ramblings.


It's taken me some time to decide what kind of post to write to accompany my most recent poem, lately there have been very few text posts so I do feel a need to return to some kind of informative content past my poetry. I feel the need to explain what kind of purpose I put into my writing in general and underline exactly what I want to achieve.

My anxiety hit me young. Too young to be able to understand what was happening, too young to be able to ask for help. I performed well in school, one teacher told my mother to start saving for my university fees when I was only 8 years old.
Gone.

With anxiety came depression, another alien mindset, hellbent on confusing me into oblivion. Everything slipping slowly away, education a screaming passenger on an out of control roller-coaster yet still refusing to believe the now reality it had fallen into. All of this while not being able to understand, and me not being able to understand meant nobody else could understand either, to some I was an arrogant, ignorant child refusing to attend to their responsibility to learn.
The only thing I wanted to learn was what on earth was happening to my mind.
Those that had took pity, I shunned away for fear of letting them see how far my own mind had slipped.
Fear.

Then three laboured years later, a light. My educative environment had changed, a seemingly safer place to learn, away from the pressures of a mainstream schooling system. With it, a promise to see a child psychologist.
Hope.

What a glorified waste of time, I sought enlightenment, I gained what felt like a Rubik's cube of anger. What had they said when I wasn't there. If I had said more when I was there instead of fearing judgement of my parental companion, instead of having the confidence to ask to be alone. I felt as if I was promised the world and delivered an already devastated island, still uninhabitable, still bearing nothing of life. I had failed as a patient.
Reflection.

I think back to that whole scenario daily. In the right environment help can be there. In my youthful stupor and desperation, I wanted answers, to be told simply what was wrong and how to fix it. As practical as that sounds, I know now it's impossible. However, given the right environment...
Ambition.

I can't bear witnessing, reading, hearing of anyone go through the same torment so young. I just won't sit witnessing, reading, hearing of anyone go through the same torment so young. I feel all the mistakes I've made, all I have learned not just from experience but from therapy and research, I've developed a yearning. A need, to stop a serious problem that often goes unnoticed, so that nobody has to go day by day and be confused about why what and how. For the near future this is all I have, my own thoughts down on paper, typed through ones and zeros for people to read, and I'm pleased with the audience I've reached, I'm happy with what I've achieved through such a simple project and I love expressing my creativity through my poetry as well but where do I go next?
Onwards.

I'm not satisfied the audience I truly wish to reach is the one I can't just write to, this is all great empathising with those who've gone through similar, but those who are going through things and can't understand it? Where are they, past lost in their own minds looking for a way to understand? You don't simply think, this is what's wrong this is what I'll do, it's not as simple a taking a couple of painkillers and it'll be right in a few hours. At an age when minds are ripe for molding, an emotional upheaval is so, so challenging. I want to know more about why these things happen to us, what changes in our minds to make us feel such distress, and how to teach. Teach how better to prepare, teach how to understand, teach how to recognise.
Now I have that opportunity.



My next journey begins in September.
I'm going to enjoy having you all along with me as well.

I had intended on having a poem accompany this post, however after 3(finished) attempts, I couldn't find anything I was happy with. I feel the point of this post is clear enough without expressing any more emotion towards where I hope to be in 4-5 years time.

Supporting

To support mental health awareness week, I wrote a short one today:

The weight of expectation,

A burden of deliberation,

Understanding the assignment,

Feelings out of alignment,

With a specific job or task,

Yet every day you wear a mask,

What people see may not be too,

Thoughts of that expectation the same too,

Yet when the face you show each day,

Does not match with words you say,

Opinions people have can change,

They may think you strange.

“Two personalities?”

“He’s not the same as yesterday!”

One day, that’s all, you can’t close the door,

Do not fret for what they saw,

Is always you beneath the surface,

Always you behind the curtains,

You hide so they don’t see you cry,

You draw them as to close your eyes,

And think of how next to disguise,

The constant wherefores and whys.

To those who suffer, you’re not alone.

To those who help, thank you.

Continuity

I find myself restraining,
Feelings of sustaining,
Hatred, or love, it's all the same,
For each you'd kill and take the blame,
At a journey's start you have a goal,
A finish line that makes it whole,
And upon reaching the end of travel,
Feelings tend to unravel,
A seething spite you can't abate,
And an odd twist of fate,
In addition to a warped courage,
A chance to pay hindsightful homage,
To what once was and could have been,
And all the atrocities I've seen.


I must rest my weary mind,
Beyond attempts of being kind,
Forcing my hand to open out,
It's time to end this unjust bout.



Expect more content soon :).

Impressions, mimics and reflection

The most impressionable people on the world, children, are molded by that which they are exposed to. I've spoke at length about how I feel and that which I do due to what has happened yesteryear.

Rewind 15 years, Labour are in power. The Queen Mother has just passed away. Arsenal football club are about to start a short period of dominance over English football.

I, an open eyed, analytical 8 year old, in the midst of a barbecue party, sit inside on a scorching hot Saturday afternoon to watch an FA cup final. On the television, the afformentioned Arsenal.

Now to paint a picture, I come from a very passionate football family. My grandparents, with whom I had a season ticket at the time for my home town club Sunderland, were not too far removed from a playoff final defeat at Wembley, before plans for remodeling, to Charlton.

This day however, Arsenal were stage center at the Millenium Stadium, and Chelsea were the villains hoping to upset my unashamed mesmerity at a quite frankly mind blowing style of football.

That day, I was an Arsenal fan.

Ever since then, I have been a Gunner.

My childhood henceforth was lived inside dreams of imitating Bergkamp, Henry, Pires, Ray "It's only Ray Parlour" Parlour. I celebrated the invincibles, raged against united after that Rooney dive, laughed at Tim Lovejoy, have been heartbroken after Paris, mourned the loss of the King, and that of Highbury which I never had the opportunity to visit, shed tears against Birmingham, and more recently a different kind against Hull and Villa.

Our better years are very clearly behind us, but the beauty of football means you can't rule out the best ones being ahead. This is a fact of life as well.

Whatever happens tomorrow, Arsenal will not dissipate in how they affect my life. Whatever happens with Arsene Wenger, Arsenal are still the same club, and a future should never be decided on past performances, even if control is handled by the same person. Football has evolved to a point, on and off the pitch, to a point where a manger's job is almost moot. Arsenal and apparently Arsene's recent failings say as much, players can answer for themselves, the manager still attempts to deflect the blame... the cycle continues.

When team cohesion, morale and work ethic win you games, titles and respect, a manager has a minimal effect on the eventual outcome.

This is by the by, and maybe a discussion for another day.

I sit here, wearing the yellow of the Arsenal, as we're going to Wembley.

Remembering past joys, an infatuation that developed to love and then complete adoration and worship.

I know whatever the outcome I will feel emotion.

Reminding me I am human.

Reminding me I can love.

Reminding me there is good with every bad.

F-Off Anxiety

Does everything in life hold a meaning?
It's true everything you see and do will trigger an emotion, whether it's anger or content, and emotions towards an object are what gives it meaning to you.
But in turn what does all of that mean?
Justify a object by an objective view, an endless search for validation of what? You don't look to justify the means, you are only ever asked to justify the emotion that triggered the means, and it's your own subconscious, that you can't control, that triggers the emotion.
So you're asked to explain the un-explainable, Describe the indescribable. To look for a meaning behind the indeterminable cause.

I think this is the main reason behind my anxiety, over analysis. To search for the meaning behind the object, you open a door to walk through; but why do you need to be on the other side?
There's no simple acceptance that it's an end to a means.
You close a door to keep something out, but why do you want to be boxed in?
It's almost like a never quenching thirst for pointless knowledge.

To understand that everything is just something with no need for expansion, that I can only dream of.
Now, you yourself might be wondering at this point why I'm waffling on about objective nonsense.

This is something I don't need to question myself on. There are acres upon acres of trees in the world that nobody understands why they are there. Just like there are millions upon millions of people in the world that nobody understands why they are suffering.
So for you to perhaps make steps to understand me, and realise it's not stupid, it is in no way silly, and it's effects are deeper than the foundations of some homes.
There are other people, who suffer in silence; frustrated, fearing, and fleeing from their own figurative thoughts.

I want anxiety to #F-OFF.
Only together can a society stamp out the stigma that surrounds the subject.


I am open to suggestion,
Ask me a probing question,
I'm an open book, I'll try to teach,
How to put your worries out of reach,
Yet I don't take note of my own word,
I scream and shout, but never have I heard,
Am I alone in this myself?
wallowing in misery and filth?
Or do I also have a shoulder,
As I lent to you, growing older,
Maturing in age and mood,
If only I thought I could,
Move past what seems a great expanse,
A desolate and lonely trance,
I don't want to admit that I am weak,
But I must face facts and look to seek,
A deeper form of understanding,
Of an aircraft almost never landing,
Of a state of constant suspense,
Leading me to feel this way, and hence;
I plea to you my faithful friend,
That we stop trying to against fend,
The laws of unknown emotion,
The source of this unruly commotion.

Legion: A Review

Last week I took a week off work in anticipation of the latest expansion to World of Warcraft - Legion. After reaching the new maximum level cap in little over 24 hours from launch, I have since experienced most content currently available at the current point of the game. In my review here, I will discuss the content I have played through, detailing my thoughts on each part of the game.



Introduction Quests:


Although these were available quite a while before launch, eventually climaxing on launch night, I felt it pertinent to discuss them here. For the most part, after running through them more than twice, they became long drawn out lore-fests. They were enjoyable for the most part the first time around, luckily they did become skippable after launch, cutting down severely on time required to get stuck in to the new content.

Leveling:

There are only four zones in total to level through in Legion, however don't let you fool this into thinking there is a lack of content in each zone. With the exception of Azsuna, and to an extant Val'sharah, each zone tends to have a small set of introductory quests, explaining the story behind each zone (Azsuna inflicts this knowledge onto you whilst flying into the zone). Ultimately, specifically in the case of Stormheim, these are the downsides to the zones themselves. Highmountain, which regardless of what I'm about to say is still the best leveling zone in my opinion, also has a few filler quests, which seem forced upon the player in order to extend the zone in line with experience gained from other zones.
Every enemy you find, no matter what zone you're in out of the four outlined, will be scaled to your level, so there's no worry of having to give up on a zone to move on via outleveling or gearing a certain area.

Dungeons:

This is one part of the expansion I cannot yet cover as a whole. Overall, the new dungeons seem rather linear in layout, overloaded with trash monsters, with new(ish) niche mechanics on bosses. Many of the new mechanics have been carried over from the invasion events that occurred pre-launch. Normal dungeons scale to levels as with zones, so if your friends are lagging behind at all, you can still easily play with them to experience the content together. From what I have experienced of heroic dungeons, they do not bear the same challenging resemblance to very close to post-launch as Wrath or Cataclysm, but still offer an ample challenge at the current point in the expansion.

End Game:

I will split this part into two categories. World Quests and Suramar.

World Quests:

This piece of entirely new content (to WoW at least) is the jewel in the already gem laden crown of Legion. World Quests are your source of daily, sometimes bi/tri-daily, reputation, gear, order resources, gold... Everything you could possibly imagine. It will be interesting to see how World Quests develop given the gear it offers are oft better than that available in heroic dungeons, although quite whether an elaboration at the moment is even needed is very questionable.

Suramar:

Suramar becomes your hub for end game questing content, opening up an entirely new faction to develop, and gain reputation with. The quests that arrive with Suramar are on a somewhat new level for WoW, very involving and entertaining, but you could say the same for the majority of the expansion, particularly Class Order quests. The zone itself is quite honestly one of the most beautiful creations to take place on Azeroth. Suramar is by far and away the zone you'll find yourself in the most come maximum level, so brace yourself before taking on it's introductory quests, it can be quite hard to stop once you've started. One single quest giver can often lead to a chain, from the same NPC I may add, of 5 up to 8.

So there you have it. A masterstroke at first glance, and although we're only a week in, it's exciting to think what may be around the corner. Indeed if the new content patch's teaser trailer is anything to go by, we're in for a joyous ride.

If you'd like to follow my progress through Legion, you can follow me on Twitch.

I hope to see you out there on the Broken Isles.

The Cost of Admission

I'm about to tell you a story. A story all about how, my life got flipped, turned upside down.

No.

In all seriousness, this will be one of my more lengthier posts. I started this blog to showcase my poetry, nothing more, and although my poetry had a certain depiction of my feelings at the time, it wasn't necessarily an open heart process. However, recently I feel I have put more effort into an explanation of why I write the post as a whole rather than the lyrical content. Similarly, I have begun to wonder what kind of direction that step is in. On analysis of the situation, it's more an admission than an escape, My state of mind in a particular moment, held forever in a few words of rage or fear, and  hung out to dry for the whole world to see.

But for the whole case of admission, it is still my escape. There will always be those who sun the concept of "airing dirty laundry" (if that applies here) or laying myself bare, however that is merely an opinion. I won't let a narrow mind stop me from expanding my own, as selfish as that may sound. There always comes a point where a person is close to breaking. No matter what emotion caused such a situation, for it will always be reaction not action that is the cause, there will be a way for that individual to cope. 

I write, some fight, some forget, or at least try. Everybody has their own antidote, to their own poison. However the time taken to find either is more or less equal.

To admit a fault is the first step to finding both. And so full circle.

I've admitted a lot here over the past 2 years, and only recently have I discovered writing is my one true escape.

With that, I intend to expand, an escape should have many routes. A single winding road tends to require more care and attention, such as it is, to upkeep.

So I am open to suggestion, this began with poetry, and will probably end with poetry, but wherever we stop on our journey, and what we accomplish on the way is unknown.

However I am excited to find out.

So you say you've seen it all before,

You know the score,

A negative is counted as a loss,

A line you thought you'd never cross,

Anticipation, trepidation,

No consideration, consolation,

And you still hold that expectation,

That time will pass without degradation,

Rust eats away at even petals,

And the strongest of all metals,

For all that is cosmetic,

Is enough to make me mentally sick,

I try to lay back and see,

The reasons behind my beliefs,

Is illness only selfishness?

Cries of pain for attention, no less?

Chastisement of my own being,

Is this the blind finally seeing?

Or another needless relegation,

To my feeble, crumbling self frustration,

I crave that finally realization, 

A world without this wild constriction.