I'm not a fan of writing and I would definitely say that I am not the most literate person you'll meet. To be honest, picking up a pen and physically writing stuff down reminds me too much of school, so I obviously actively try to avoid it. However I do love story telling. I love creating worlds that I can escape into, I love reliving moments and memories, and sharing my opinions and views of life.
So allow me to do just that, as I'm sitting beside the Shannon river at 7:30 am, writing what could well be my first blog post, written into an old notepad that I once "used" for college work.
So let me set the scene.
There's a pier that stretches out onto the river. At its entrance there is a small green, littered in daffodils and has a few benches and a picnic table so you can enjoy the view.
The pier itself is not too long and not too short. It's made of stone, and regardless of the road nearby, it's peaceful. At the furthest end of the pier, there are steps that once you descend them, you are presented with a view of the river from a platform only inches above the water.
I'll be honest, I love the place.
So before today, I had visited this place twice.
The first time I came here, I merely stumbled across it by accident when on the rare occasion I put down the joint I was smoking and my xbox controller, I joined my ex girlfriend for a walk. That day, I felt nothing towards the place other than this would be a nice place to show the lads and chill out. I was right.
The second time I came here, it was with the lads (around 6 of us) and my ex girlfriend again. We sat at the picnic table, in the sun and just cooled off and chilled out (it was around exam time). For me it was a day well needed. However, I can't specifically tell you what made that day so special. We drank, we had a laugh with each other, we took a load of photos.
Overall it was a better day than more. A good memory for once, considering the weeks previous to that day consisted of daily arguments with the ex (to which I now accept responsibility to).
On that day, I had fun, I loved my company, I was happy.
It's been 2 months since that memory and of course, a lot has changed.
College has finished, all the lads have gone home and my ex and I are no longer together. It's hard, but that's life.
So, this morning, I finished work and realised I was locked out of my apartment. No one was around, it was getting bright outside, and I had nowhere to go. The best thing for me to do was lay low until it was a reasonable time to attempt to get into the flat, and to just enjoy a time of day that I very rarely see; the morning, and what better place to enjoy it than the pier.
When I arrived, The daffodils were gone. They were replaced by freshly cut grass, and although everything else showed signs of growth, the flowers were gone.
I sat on one of the benches and within 5 minutes of being there I was joined by a lovely old lady. My guess is that she was at least 70 years of age. She greeted me and then walked behind me. I then heard something out on the river and looked up to find a team of rowers rowing past. I looked around me to see if the lady was watching too but she wasn't, She was in her own little world too, doing yoga on the grass. Within 20 minutes of her doing that she said goodbye and was on her way.
5 minutes later, I was joined by another person. A man, who after 3 years of living in Limerick had taught me that I should be wary of. It wasn't specifically this man I was worried about, but the look of him, his accent, and his tall figure. I greeted him like I did with the old lady and he sat down beside me in silence. To be honest, I was wrong about him. He sat beside me for 10 minutes, just sitting there, eyes closed soaking up the sun, and enjoy the morning as much as I was.
Now at this stage my phone battery was quite low, and I had no other means of contacting anyone should it die, so I turned it off and went into my bag to look for another way to keep myself entertained for the rest of the morning. I found my old copy and a couple pens and decided I'd doodle in my copy. As I pulled it from my bag I was approached again.
This time it was an elderly man, which afterwards I found out was nearing 80 years of age (his words). He was cool as fuck. He wore Ray Bans sunglasses, a paddy cap, camouflage trousers and a pretty cool shirt. He stood in front of me and greeted me with the Irish norm, "grand day today huh". I replied, and before I knew it, he was telling me how he walks past this place every day. How he only goes for walks because he has no one left anymore, and that he doesn't want to be stuck inside his house doing nothing. He told me of his past adventures in the marines, smuggling bras to Soviet Russia back in the day, and recieving jugs of vodka as payment. He was great to listen to, and I know he appreciated me listening too. When he finished talking, I shook his hand and thanked him, and he was on his way, off on his daily walk.
I returned to my copy book and decided I'd write down the stories I was just told. I knew I'd tell my friends and I didn't want to forget any details. I went to the back of my copy and hit a road block.
For the first time in a couple months, I saw my ex grilfriend's hand writing in a game of hangman. I remember playing it with her on a train back from Dublin at New Years. We enjoyed simple things. Maybe it says a lot about me, but I closed the copy and just sat there.
As I previously stated. A lot has changed for me. I'm looking back at my memories in a different light now. Things that seemed hard for me at the time; relationships, friendships, unemployment, college, they're all memories that I've learned to cherish.
Life's not always about looking forward to moving on to the next big thing, but more abut enjoying the now, enjoying each experience as it comes. Just like my time at the pier.
So allow me to do just that, as I'm sitting beside the Shannon river at 7:30 am, writing what could well be my first blog post, written into an old notepad that I once "used" for college work.
So let me set the scene.
There's a pier that stretches out onto the river. At its entrance there is a small green, littered in daffodils and has a few benches and a picnic table so you can enjoy the view.
The pier itself is not too long and not too short. It's made of stone, and regardless of the road nearby, it's peaceful. At the furthest end of the pier, there are steps that once you descend them, you are presented with a view of the river from a platform only inches above the water.
I'll be honest, I love the place.
So before today, I had visited this place twice.
The first time I came here, I merely stumbled across it by accident when on the rare occasion I put down the joint I was smoking and my xbox controller, I joined my ex girlfriend for a walk. That day, I felt nothing towards the place other than this would be a nice place to show the lads and chill out. I was right.
The second time I came here, it was with the lads (around 6 of us) and my ex girlfriend again. We sat at the picnic table, in the sun and just cooled off and chilled out (it was around exam time). For me it was a day well needed. However, I can't specifically tell you what made that day so special. We drank, we had a laugh with each other, we took a load of photos.
Overall it was a better day than more. A good memory for once, considering the weeks previous to that day consisted of daily arguments with the ex (to which I now accept responsibility to).
On that day, I had fun, I loved my company, I was happy.
It's been 2 months since that memory and of course, a lot has changed.
College has finished, all the lads have gone home and my ex and I are no longer together. It's hard, but that's life.
So, this morning, I finished work and realised I was locked out of my apartment. No one was around, it was getting bright outside, and I had nowhere to go. The best thing for me to do was lay low until it was a reasonable time to attempt to get into the flat, and to just enjoy a time of day that I very rarely see; the morning, and what better place to enjoy it than the pier.
When I arrived, The daffodils were gone. They were replaced by freshly cut grass, and although everything else showed signs of growth, the flowers were gone.
I sat on one of the benches and within 5 minutes of being there I was joined by a lovely old lady. My guess is that she was at least 70 years of age. She greeted me and then walked behind me. I then heard something out on the river and looked up to find a team of rowers rowing past. I looked around me to see if the lady was watching too but she wasn't, She was in her own little world too, doing yoga on the grass. Within 20 minutes of her doing that she said goodbye and was on her way.
5 minutes later, I was joined by another person. A man, who after 3 years of living in Limerick had taught me that I should be wary of. It wasn't specifically this man I was worried about, but the look of him, his accent, and his tall figure. I greeted him like I did with the old lady and he sat down beside me in silence. To be honest, I was wrong about him. He sat beside me for 10 minutes, just sitting there, eyes closed soaking up the sun, and enjoy the morning as much as I was.
Now at this stage my phone battery was quite low, and I had no other means of contacting anyone should it die, so I turned it off and went into my bag to look for another way to keep myself entertained for the rest of the morning. I found my old copy and a couple pens and decided I'd doodle in my copy. As I pulled it from my bag I was approached again.
This time it was an elderly man, which afterwards I found out was nearing 80 years of age (his words). He was cool as fuck. He wore Ray Bans sunglasses, a paddy cap, camouflage trousers and a pretty cool shirt. He stood in front of me and greeted me with the Irish norm, "grand day today huh". I replied, and before I knew it, he was telling me how he walks past this place every day. How he only goes for walks because he has no one left anymore, and that he doesn't want to be stuck inside his house doing nothing. He told me of his past adventures in the marines, smuggling bras to Soviet Russia back in the day, and recieving jugs of vodka as payment. He was great to listen to, and I know he appreciated me listening too. When he finished talking, I shook his hand and thanked him, and he was on his way, off on his daily walk.
I returned to my copy book and decided I'd write down the stories I was just told. I knew I'd tell my friends and I didn't want to forget any details. I went to the back of my copy and hit a road block.
For the first time in a couple months, I saw my ex grilfriend's hand writing in a game of hangman. I remember playing it with her on a train back from Dublin at New Years. We enjoyed simple things. Maybe it says a lot about me, but I closed the copy and just sat there.
As I previously stated. A lot has changed for me. I'm looking back at my memories in a different light now. Things that seemed hard for me at the time; relationships, friendships, unemployment, college, they're all memories that I've learned to cherish.
Life's not always about looking forward to moving on to the next big thing, but more abut enjoying the now, enjoying each experience as it comes. Just like my time at the pier.