August is Over

I'm just a guy who likes to write, often it is deep, most of the time I tend to post my inner most thoughts and emotions. Sometimes it can be rather dark, but I see no reason for censorship. I don't often post photo's, I tend not to re-blog. So if you should choose to follow me, follow me with the knowledge that in reading my posts you will know me better than anyone in my life does, but then at the same time not know me at all. After all this blog is anonymous, as theres always fun to be had in mystery.

© August-is-Over. Copyright 2009-2013.

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1 month ago with 17 notes

Tagged: prose creative writing

Fortress of a Heart

As a child I learned of the Great Wall of China, how it was built to keep invaders out and it fascinated me. And whilst fascinated, young and malleable I witness the person I loved most and adored beyond all else, my brother, have his heart broken. I had never seen him so broken and while he was a lot older than me I believed in my little heart he saw me as an equal. He said to me build your heart like a fortress and make sure nothing is let in easily. The thing is I knew he didn’t mean it because he met someone soon after and has now been married to her for nearly twenty years. But something about what he said, something about my young naivety meant those words resonated deep within me.

In the years to come I built a fortress within my heart, surrounded by wall after wall, each ever stronger and more impenetrable than the one before it, and it made me happy to think that no one would be able to hurt me the way I saw my dear brother get hurt. As I grew to love, I learned to let people in but never all the way. I always held back and that’s true of every relationship I’ve ever had. And the one I convinced everyone, myself included of loving the most, even her I never truly let in because deep down I couldn’t trust her, just like I can trust no other. I see those who make attempts to win my heart and my trust as intruders, my heart is mine alone, my anguish and my pain are my vices. I would never allow another to prop me up, to bear my struggles and that’s just the way this fortress was built.

I’ve always laughed at the term ‘stole my heart’, purely because I believed that those who could have their hearts stolen must have on some level allowed it to happen, be it carelessness or deliberate. The thing is you did just that to me. You came in an intruder and I never saw you coming, and you stole my heart like a master thief and I did not even realise until it was too late to do anything about it. I sit and wonder how this could be, given how fortified I kept my heart, how high I built these walls, how careful I was about every detail I allow people to know of me. But the thing is I let you in further than anyone ever before or ever again and the rest was your own doing, and the reason I let you in is beyond me because I love you more than I have ever allowed myself to love, I love you without restraint, and while every rational part of me being is screaming at me to retreat I can’t hold back. I don’t know how and I don’t understand why.

I guess part of me has always loved you for reasons unknown to me, but I’ve always loved you from afar and you’ve done the same. I had no idea that you loved me until recently, I had no idea you could even love me, and it’s when you said it to me I realised how far within my fortress you’ve travelled and how you’ve taken my heart in your clutches, and how ready I was to just give it to you, to let you keep it. And that’s when it occurred to me that our friendship had entered uncharted waters and it could prove to sink if things went wrong. And while I was still presenting my heart to you you backed away. And now these gates of this fortress are coming slamming down because I realise how lapsed I’ve been in regard to the access of my heart you’ve had. And it’s breaking me to think that the first person I’ve ever really presented the entirety of my heart to had it within her clutches and just walked away for the sake of a friendship we’ve both been far too heavily invested in, mostly because that was our only vehicle of communicating our love with great subtlety.

Part of the reason I built this fortress around my heart was because I understood the capacity I have to hurt another, and I understand that I have the capacity to hurt you and I don’t know if I were to do so, if you could ever forgive me. Or if we could salvage our friendship from the wreck of having hurt you. I knew this was messy only now in writing it down do I understand just how messy. While I know why I can’t have you, I can’t seem to let go, I feel like I’m still holding out my heart to you waiting on you to take it from me, it makes me wonder if our friendship can survive this because it’s killing me just being here, knowing that my heart lies in wait for you and in time you’ll likely the the heart of another.


1 month ago with 11 notes

Tagged: prose creative writing

I am not Afraid.

Fear, it’s an amazing thing. I remember not so long ago being afraid of so many things, from things we can all relate to like public speaking, the future, and what other people might think; to the most irrational things like being afraid that the people I believed to be my friends hated me. I feared a lot and I let fear rule my life, I became withdrawn and overly careful.

Somehow over the last few months I’ve lost this deeply imbedded fear of so many things I’ve carried throughout my whole life. I fear nothing, and it might sound unbelievable, cocky even to say but I kid you not. And I have to say it feels amazing. I’m not entirely sure how it happened but nevertheless I’m glad it did.

I guess deep down I realised no good comes of being afraid. Whatever will be will be and you can give it your all and walk away proud. Or you can let the fear in you consume you, blind you and steal you of your moment, your proving ground, to demonstrate exactly what sort of person you’ve built yourself to be.

I am not afraid of you, of what you think, of the capacity you have to inflict harm upon me. I am not afraid of the not succeeding, of failing, of falling short of my goals. I am not afraid of my demons, my enemies and those that wish to see me fail. I am not afraid not any more, and nor shall I ever be ever again.

I guess part of this realisation comes from me having become somewhat of a gym rat as of late, I’ve had to literally break myself down to and build myself up again and in doing so I disposed of all the unnecessary. Fear is just one of those ills I can do without.


1 month ago with 8 notes


I can’t help but wonder at times if the Devil is real, perhaps God is just that kind, and that merciful he just can’t let us believe that he created us with the capacity for such evil, for the evil within all of us to be something that we produce and are in control of, so he lets us blame a being he created for the evils within our own selves. I don’t fear the Devil, not even with an ounce of fear. I do however fear man and the brittle existence in which we live. The violence, the brutality and the lack of humanity we see ever so prominently throughout the world. And this idea of peace that we long for more so than we ever did seems to just be getting further and further out of reach.


2 months ago with 9 notes

Tagged: prose creative writing

Friends & Lovers part II.

A while ago, I wrote a post about loving someone that I couldn’t be with purely because we were bound by the bond of friendship, and that bond is just to sacred to my heart to risk severing. Part of me was lying to myself, while I do believe our friendship was worth too much to risk, I was lying to myself because deep in my heart I also believed that she could never feel the same for me as I feel for her.

I was wrong. Over the past few weeks I’d been avoiding her because my feelings for her had grown too strong and I needed a bit of time and distance to allow myself to bury those feelings deep within until they surfaced again and required me to repeat this vicious cycle. Although I didn’t count on her needing me, and I went because my heart just wouldn’t allow me to say no, not to her.

It turned out she knew why I was being distant, she knew exactly what I felt and had known for some time. What I didn’t count on, what I never saw coming and what struck me by absolute shock was that she felt the same as I did for her. She loves me as I love her. We shared a kiss and a couple of hours of possibly the only true inner peace I’d ever felt.

You’d expect a happily ever after at this point and perhaps if Walt Disney had been writing the events of my life it would have been. But we both agree that what our friendship means is too much to risk and that neither one of us trust ourselves not to hurt the other and therefore ruin the friendship we’ve built over the past few years. Because to travel down that road would mean there’s no return to the friendship we value so much.

The thing is after knowing I’m sat here wondering how on earth I am going to be able to watch her meet someone one day, fall in love and marry, knowing that it could have been me because she loved me once the same way I loved her and possibly always will. To know that that kiss we shared is the one and only one there will ever be. Worst of all I wonder if our friendship can survive this, I mean I’m glad I know because I would have always wondered, I’m glad we kissed because I’ve always wanted to but I can’t help but wonder if we can come back from it all. Right now I feel as though I’m walking on thin ice just waiting for it to all shatter around me. I hope we can survive this and I hope we can move past it but right now I’m caught up on what could have been if both of us weren’t so afraid of the capacity we have to hurt one another.

Over the years I’ve come to understand the complexity of love as an emotion and an entity in itself but right now I’m learning that that complexity goes far and beyond what I had initially led myself to believe. Because as much as I do love her, as happy as I she would make me, to lose her forever would leave a wound too deep to heal.


2 months ago with 60 notes

Tagged: prose creative writing

Asked me Once

You once asked me why I stopped fighting for you, why we couldn’t make it work and why I’ve moved on so seemingly easily. And well the answer dawned on me much later, and it was remarkably simple.

I loved you with every ounce of my being. I gave you and us everything I possibly could and them some, and while I don’t deny that you loved me too, your love was not the same as mine. With every passing day I loved you more than I did the previous day, and with every day to come I looked forward to loving you more. The thing was you were always playing catch up to me, you loved me today as much as I loved you yesterday.

I grew tired an weary of looking back to see you a step behind me, I wanted to step into the next day with you beside me. Not having to make sure you were close enough to allow me to take a step forward. I wanted to grow and let my love for you grow without restraint. But you never did catch up to me and it occurred to me that at one point I would take a step forward before you had taken the step to be behind me. And somewhere along the way I would lose sight of you completely.

They say to test the love within a relationship you ought to set them free and see if they return to you, if you welcome them back with open arms. I set you free and then I lost sight of you completely. You never did return to me.


3 months ago with 19 notes

Tagged: poetry

Smoke Without Fire

There is no smoke without fire
And there is no me without you
No shadow is cast without light
Nor is there life without air
There is no me without you.

I exist only as a byproduct of you
For there is fire without smoke
Light without shadow
Air without life
And you without me.


6 months ago with 13 notes

Tagged: prose creative writing


I haven’t written in a very long time, and it occurred that my absence from writing coincides with me taking antidepressants. The thing is I thought I was piecing my life back together and moving forward. And sure I’ve been happier and really moving on with my life. But I realise I exist in a state of perpetual emotional numbness. Where I’m not depressed but yet I’m not quite happy. I’m just moving along life’s path whilst emotionally numbed beyond the point of being able to feel emotions, to process them like we humans were designed to feel.


9 months ago with 52 notes

Tagged: prose creative writing spilled ink


I remember the very first time I ever laid eyes on you, as cliched as it sounds, your beauty absolutely took my breath away. I can’t exactly find the words to describe what I felt but I knew it was something unique, something that I had never before felt and never would again. I sat there staring at you for a good few minutes thinking, “my god, she’s absolutely beautiful”… And then you opened your mouth, and I filtered out everything else going on in that room, and as you spoke it dawned on me that your beauty was not your greatest asset, but rather it was the mind that sits behind those guarded bluey-green eyes accented by those warm fiery tinges of yellow and orange. In time as I got to know you for who you are I realised that this mind I believed to be your greatest asset only takes a distant second place to the heart that rests within your chest.

As we became friends of the truest definition of the word I realised that my life without you in it is like world without an atmosphere. Barren. But just as a world with an atmosphere is complex and exists in a fine balance, so does my life, and that is why I’ll likely never know if what you mean to me is anywhere near what I mean to you. I don’t exactly know what I feel for you, but I do know that it runs deep like the roots of a tree, you underpin my every achievement and in everything I do, I look to you to see if you smile with the grace of your effortless beauty, I look for answers in those beautiful eyes, guidance in your sharp mind and most of all, approval in that enormous heart.


9 months ago with 16 notes

Tagged: prose creative writing


Summer always reminds me of you, because my poorly maintained lawn becomes a field of daisies, in white and purple hues. Daisies have always remind me of you because I remember being seventeen and asking you what your favourite flowers were, I wanted to bring you a bouquet of your favourite flowers but to my surprise you responded by telling me above all you loved daisies the most. It was funny because daisies appear everywhere. There’s not much special about them, they are common and far removed from the rarity of you.

From that day onwards whenever I would see daisies they would remind me of you. And whenever I would read my favourite book; The Great Gatsby I would think of you. And when I lost you and spring would come around those retched daisies would haunt me wherever I went for two long seasons. And for a few years I wondered when I’d stop associating these tiny yet beautiful things with you. At one point I began to believe that daisies would always remind me of you no matter how much time passed.

But then one summer day came where I sat enjoying the beautiful weather with my best friend and me and her made daisy chains and enjoyed the weather and simplicity of our lives and it dawned on me after that day that I no longer associate those flowers with you, but rather one beautiful moment shared with a dearly beloved friend.

It’s strange how the significance of seemingly meaningless things can change over time, either gradually or by the virtue of one perfect moment. Either way that was the last thing that I held onto that brought you back into my thoughts over and over and now it’s gone. And I can honestly say I’m pleased because while feelings and emotions can fade over time, distinct memories are far more difficult to rid yourself of. Little did I know all it takes is one memory that you can look at with greater fondness.


10 months ago with 20 notes

Guess who is back on tumblr?