été absent


If you understand French to any degree, you’ll know that the title says “Been Away”, if you understand me to any degree, you’ll know that I used a translator to find that out.

The purpose of this post is to apologise for my lack of writing in the past few weeks, believe me this isn’t anthing to do with having a ‘writing-abstinence’, to put it simply I haven’t really had the time to post at all, but I have however been able to come up with many ideas, which you will see in posts in the weeks to come. Unfortunately my absence was partly to do with a ‘lovely’ thing called depression, and again, if you understand me to any degree, you’ll know that I’m not saying that it’s lovely but that I am indeed using sarcasm . . . but enough of these “if you understand x to any degree” contexts, and let’s get on with the post.

‘Twas two weeks ago, and all through the house, nothing was stirring, not even the house? . . . okay . . . no, it wasn’t quite that mystical. Two weeks ago I slumped into a moderate state of depression, I felt ignored, overloaded, stressed. All in turn played their part to ruin my mood even more, I began to feel tired, exhausted, from the sleepless nights of pounding my thoughts back and forth, as I tried to recover mentally. But to no prevail, if anything I was making the situation worse. I would go to school with hardly any enthusism, I sat down in home group as the rest of the class talked in their big groups, I angled my eyebrows downwards as the words ‘ignorant’, ‘pathic’, and ‘judgemental’ entered my mind, and soon was used to label each class member, one by one, with a 3 in 3 chance of being labeled as a participant in the careless debate.

Then, on Tuesday night, I was informed of a death in my family, my grandfather had passed away at 6pm.

I had thought that I was already on rock-bottom, but as the floor below me began to crumble, I realised there was more that you could fall, further down, the chances of recovering becoming just as dim as the light flare coming from the top of the hole, the cavern. What else could come of this? Would I sink into a state of limbo? Sleeping, no longer caring to any degree, no longer feeling anything or hinting towards my humanity.

But then began the recovery.

Sunday morning I rised to a change, I stared upon my room, conjested with clothes, homework, pieces of paper which had been tore up in disregard, my refusal of interest. Then, as I rose in my bed, sitting up and scanning the room with my eyes, I decided change. I cleaned off my desk, removed unwanted filth and then continued with the rest of my room. A large KNEX structure which I had built when we arrived at this house, was demolished in a couple of  hours, sigifying a psychological link, a connection, as though I was removing the stale life that I had once lived. You could say it was simply placebo, I believed that the clensing of my room was the clensing of my mind, but whether placebo or simply the excitement of something new, it worked.

Welcome back California! . . . no wait, what?

You can tell from my sudden humour that I’m feeling better.

So til the next post.


See ya!



It’s Time for Change

Warning: The topic of this post is very heavily debated, and some may be offended. Reader’s discretion is advised. Hello, and welcome to another Benaball blog post. Sit back, get some snacks. This will be…

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