Barry Scollard
Bio
30 year old Irish guy.
The pen and written word shows me the truth.
The world spark embers inside me, this is my place to burn.
"Every story ever told really happened " The Doctor
Stories (7/0)
Forrest Bathing
I've just spent the morning forest bathing, or Shinrin Yoku as it is originally know in Japan. I was apprehensive about it, as I am with everything new. Especially things that are an alternative medicine, which is strange really as I almost always find them beneficial.
By Barry Scollard8 months ago in Journal
Addictive Thinking
The mind is strange and powerful thing. Mine is a beautiful whirlpool ever flowing ever cascading against the rocks of the world. Filled with creativity, wonder, love hope, compassion sadness, sorrow and despair. It who I am, its how initially process life and try to make sense of the world around me.
By Barry Scollard8 months ago in Psyche
Forrest
The wind screams; shrill and icy through the leaves of the ancient forest. As the wind rises the trees seem grow and warp, as though forming a cage to hide itself, from the silver rays of the moon. The louder the wind howls, the more the blacker the darkness seems.
By Barry Scollard9 months ago in Horror
Masks
Who are any of us really? What lies deep inside,burried in the secret places of our hearts? Do we even know? What dreams, hopes, fears and shame lay there hidden from even ourselves.When asked who are you? How do you answer? Is it a name, a role or an occupation that comes to mind? Is that all I really am? Am I just Barry the retail assistant and loving son? Well yes I am that. But I am much more too. What lies beneath these small names we use to describe ourselves. What is it that makes us truly us, truly unique and authentic. In part I believe its the masks we have chosen to wear, and even more so what is hidden behind them.
By Barry Scollard9 months ago in Journal
Betrayal
When you are the betrayer, you justify your action's, rationalise them. They hurt me, they would do it too given a chance, just this one time, I'll make it up to them, and the worst of lie of all, no one will know! But you know. If you have any humanity inside , you will carry this for all your life. You know the treachery you have partaken in, and the devastation it has left in its wake.
By Barry Scollard9 months ago in Journal
Pain
I am thinking a lot about Pain. I suppose it's natural as I'm currently in quite a lot of pain. Pain is a strange thing really. Sometimes I look back on times I was hurt in the past, a serious fall, trips to the hospital, servered skin, blood and bruises. Some healed quickly, some slow and for most nothing remains, but faint white scars. The body heals and my mind seems to forget the true extent of the pain. Recently I fell from a height. I remember seeming to almost hang in the air for a long moment. Those moments the whole world just stops, a second feels like an entire lifetime before I hit the ground. I knew in that moment it would hurt. I was full of fear and the sheer and primal panic that comes when I am completely powerless and have utterly no control, no hope of being saved completely consumed me.I REMEMBER those feelings I can bring them to me now as clear and fresh as if it happened this morning. They say pain has no memory, perhaps that's why I find it so difficult to recall what happened in my body next. I know I hit the ground, I know I felt my very bones crack and vibrations went from my toes to head. I know every pain receptor in my body lit up as the pain burned through me like fire in a hay field. I know I opened my mouth to scream and no sound came, just the silent scared tears of man temporarily reduced to infancy again. You see I know it happened I can tell the story, but the memory of the pain is dull and hollow, as though hidden behind fog. It has always been this way for me, my body forgets. It's a strange thing the way I remember pain especially physical pain,that perhaps is why they say pain has no memory. The pain that I feel today didn't come form an injury at least not a physical one. It's a deep Emotional wound. You see bones will mend but some wounds, the wounds of the heart,of the soul, stay with you forever. Time heals all they say! And to some extent I have found that to be true My body recovers yes but traces of the injuries remains a thin white scar, a creaky knee, a stiff back we all carry these marks as roadmaps of our lives. But Time has not healed the deep wounds of my heart. Sometimes I think some wounds are simply too deep and there is nothing to be done. Oh some of them have been dulled for sure that is true. And I do everything in my power to avoid facing them. But sometimes there is nothing to be done Sometimes in the dark of night, in the lonely evenings, in those desperate moments of self loathing and self pity and utter despair. I return to these memories these painful private treasures that I guard so closely. When I take them out of the secret places of my heart,the memories are still so sharp I must be careful not to cut myself on them, as I so often do. As I write this I realise how strange a thing that is to do to be Suffering and then recall the times I suffered before as if I need extra punishment. When really I should be trying to lessen my anguish. It's almost like a very insidious form of selfharm.
By Barry Scollard9 months ago in Journal
