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Friday, 15 April 2011


Lately I have been stuck in this place between asleep and awake where I cannot differentiate between dreams and memories, or gossip and plotlines.  I only realise I am finally alert when my heart smarts, my throat closes and tears gather.  The brutality of my reality is too much.   

Sometimes I wonder whether I will ever have clear memories that are my own, not those I have accidentally imported from others, their thoughts and feelings bleeding into my subconscious.  Now and then, when talking, I will go to recall something that has happened recently, only to realise that the memory is in fact the bastard love child of my true memory and several potential alternate world fathers.  I get so confused that my memory infuses the two realities and recalls plot points from storylines as though they were my own.  

So, often, I wish to stay in that other world immersed in the rich, colourful reality of those characters. My world by comparison is bland, black and white with rough, angry, senseless streaks of red.  In the other world, time passing, the morning sun, the darkening night, the day of the week… it is of no consequence.  It is a safe place where I feel anything is still possible.  Here, in this world the merging and passing of time is marked by signposts of grief.  I watch my god-daughter become a young woman and realise that before long she will have left her childhood behind.  I watch my friends get married, fall pregnant, buy houses, start new careers while I am stagnant, in a waking coma.

I am here in my bubble, floating between two realities, an outsider and voyeur of both worlds, but never really a part of either.  In this territory between the two are the soul travellers, the interlopers.  We cannot physically explore the world, so instead we observe, and imagine and hope. 

One day I hope to be a resident somewhere other than this territory; but in the mean time I will take comfort from other soul travellers, share their war stories and feel them walking beside me even though I cannot see them.


  1. that bit about your god-daughter might have just ripped my heart out i think. you are a brilliant writer beautiful woman - powerful stuff.

    i take comfort from my fellow traveller marzi at the same time i wish she wasn't travelling this path with me. XXOO

  2. I think it was the spark for this series of dark moments lately. We are very close, but I haven't seen her in a year and in that year she has blossomed. A friend said to me, 'children are markers of time.' and they are and it makes my heart break.

    But I do take comfort from you guys. I wish we weren't all travelling this place together, but at least we've got each other. xoxoxoxo

  3. Marzi, I can totally relate to not knowing what was a memory from 'real' life or from dream - I too, often have that confusion, things in the dreamworld seem realer than real somehow, and when waking it's sometimes hard to differentiate.

    And I also relate to others lives moving on and special children growing up and me not being well enough to even hug or play with them. Knowing others share this pain makes me not feel so alone, but at the same time, I wouldn't wish this on anyone let alone those beautiful people (like you) who I love. It breaks my heart to know you and so many go through similar pain. It's cruel.

    Love you xx You write beautifully xx

  4. I too feel glad that others understand, but it really sucks that they do. At least we can take solace in the fact that we're not alone.

    It'd be nice one day to create a real memory, a physical one, all of us together.

    Thanks for reading honey.

    Love you too.
    Marzi xo

  5. amara , i don't know you that well in facebook land . but i know you so well in ME land . your writing is so powerful . it pulls me in . I joke a lot but under that all the realities of Me pummel like a fist on a punching bag (I'm the bag ) a very old bag--- That nether world where we dwell , where time is malleable , where reality is questionable , and where grief and pain are constant companions- thank you for reassuring me that others understand the Alices in wonderland that we can feel . bless you

  6. Thanks so much Di. Alices in Wonderland is so apt.

    Bless you right back xo

  7. BTW Di, just got the 'bag' reference... bit out of it, but if you are a bag, you're Chanel. xo

  8. hi marzi just getting round to reading this now, i had to start from the beginning. I KNOW one day you will be a resident elsewhere its just a matter of time, i know that might not be much comfort now but it will happen. x


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