Judgement

Over the past couple of months I have come to question the morality of my behaviour; a scary prospect of life to deal with.

What are morals?

I feel morals are rules we assign to ourselves as to not bring harm to others and ourselves. Morals keep us from raging down a self destructive path, knocking down everyone obstructing the way for the sake of our own emotions. Yet I question what stops my morals being very different to yours. Maybe I think killing small animals because they are an inconvenience to my life is acceptable, yet you think it is the most selfish, condescending and immoral behaviour known to man!

I am aware that I am highly emotionally attached to others judgement. Could this reflect my desperate attempt to get every one I know to love me, at risk of my self esteem plummeting? Except, when the judgement is rained upon me, it doesn't make it right. I state this and not question it; nobody wants to be told they have acted wrongly. So why do "we" take what other's think, say, feel, so personally? Maybe you don't. Shall I meet you in hell?

HELL! If what they say about God is true, then I'd like to humbly assume my opinion was valued. I'd like to think the almighty won't condemn me to eternal pain and suffering, just because I believe drinking until blindly intoxicated is acceptable. I'd like to think me and "him" could agree to disagree at the very least. All I am proposing is, if one man, woman, thing, spirit has the power to decide what is right and wrong and what punishment is therefore deserved; it's time to start re-evaluating what purpose we have on Earth.

This post is short and dull. Much like how I feel when I listen to others spreading their moral beliefs and judgment as something we should abide by.

As always- Klinkmillie x

Saddled with you for the afternoon.

We've all experienced it. The dread of being confined in a small enclosure with a sibling. The mere feeling is enough to make you feel repulsed, trapped and overly claustrophobic, because what is worse than a brother or a sister? I know. Hating your brother or sister.

It's mostly understandable that the feeling of wanting to be least reminded of home when all you're trying to do is fly away from it is present when you're growing up. And yet that inescapable feeling hits you hard when you remember all the times you looked your sibling in the eye and told them they were not wanted. The wave of guilt drowns you when you realise you destroyed many memories with these few fatal words. Does anyone really know why we try and push the very thing that holds the family together away? I'd love to meet you if you do.

I have divulged in many past experiences with my younger brother and they seem so vivid and current in my memory. It's as if the brain locks them away for safe keeping until it believes you're ready to emerge yourself in your minds own mysteries. It's as if the past speed and determination of one's wish to simply be alone is replaced with an overwhelming urge to make up for lost time. Ironically, my brother is still too young to feel the wrath of consequence and I find myself feeling frequently helpless; my punishment for my past disasters I suppose.

It is not as if I am a bad sister or a selfish one. I would never consider myself to be a bully of any sort. The thought now occurs to me that it can't be all bad that I feel this way. At least I have a conscience? I challenge anyone to look back on their childhood and not feel any regret as to how they sometimes treated their brother or sister. I proudly quote from 'Brothers' by Andrew Forster "I ran on, unable to close the distance I'd set in motion." Forster, I simply couldn't of put it better myself. Once you have turned your back on your sibling, even momentarily, the action can never be taken back; regret never quite rid of.

So each time you feel forced to take that family trip just remember, you can't pick your family. Stop the distance you set in motion before it is much too late.

Inspiration: 'Brothers' by Andrew Foster

Kind regards,

Klinkmillie