so long, and thanks for the memories

three years ago.
that’s when breathenoah began.

it began as an outlet. an expressionary experiment. and little did i know at the time, it signalled the beginning of a journey that was so rich, so empowering, and so liberating that…. breathenoah now has to end. the journey is over and my brand new life has begun.

my life three years ago was very different to my life today. i craved something. something beyond the walls i’d built around me. i craved the rain on my skin. i craved light. i craved living.

i didn’t know i was on a journey at the time, let alone where it would lead. there were times of sadness. darkness. almost depression. but there were also times of hope. beauty. and love.

for me, poetry has existed at the fringes of emotion. and my journey has been full of emotion, and the search for joy.

well, i’ve found it.

in these past three years, i’ve made some real friends. in no particular order i’d like pay tribute to those friendships with a simple hello.

amanda. my first blogger buddy. hello.
rachel. a shoulder and a friend. hello.
brad. a great writer with a great mind. hello.
paul. blogosphere legend. we miss you. hello.
catherine. maelinat, my journey’s butterfly. hello.

and to the many others who have contributed, commented, supported and inspired, namely;

ebbtide, narnie, maxine, gabe, sarah o, thepilogue, cocoyea, jason, thecrimsonthread, fantasia, marian, jayvie, 1writegirl, and jaclyn.

thankyou.

and of course thanks to sara, who became my sole journey-ending inspiration. themostattractivegirlintheroom. heart.

the journey of breathnoah is captured in my book, “poetry, fluxus, and other lett’rous collections.” essentially, publishing the book was the end of the journey, and a neat way to close this chapter of my life. i’ll still be around. reading, writing, exploring. just not as breathenoah.

i am breathenoah and my name is mark.
my name is mark and i am breathing, life.

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why i write, by noah

hello,

i have not really spent time thinking about why i write. maybe i will spend a few minutes now and think about it, and write down what i think. (i won’t edit what i write either, so you can rest assured that this is as raw as it gets).

here goes

i write because i am motivated by beautiful things. i think that emotion, in all of it’s forms is a thing of beauty. i find beauty in the simple things. simple observations of people, nature, society, and observations about myself. i think that while fear, jealousy, love, hatred, joy and sadness are all unique, they are also all beautifully the same. they can draw out our best and can exist at the edges of our being. i write because being at the edge of my being is experiencing life. i only have one life and i intend on living it right. what more is there to life than experiencing everything it has to offer? and since emotions are there to be experienced and expressed, what better way to express them than with writing? since i am very important to me, writing of emotion and therefore my life’s experience is a concrete way to record my life – just not in the boring chronological mundane way, but in a unique (me) kind of way.

so there you go. i did some thinking about why i write, and that’s what i came up with. i will probably read it back in a few months time and think it’s all shit, but it’s real for now so that’s cool enough.

keep flyin’

noah

journblog entry one

this is shit, don’t read it

9.50pm thursday

i just realised that i’m addicted to planlessness, and i don’t even think that’s a real word. i could really use a drink right now, but i could really use a sleep even more. i’ll settle on a slink instead. there you go, another made up word. see, planlessness is really working for me.

this is shit, don’t read it

lots of awesome

i have decided that i am going to live until at least the age of one-hundred-and-seven. i think one-hundred-and-seven is a lucky number and i feel pretty darn lucky. that means that i will have twenty-five-thousand-two-hundred-and-seventy-three awesome days and two-hundred-and-fifty-five crappy days left in my life. that’s a ratio of ninety-nine awesome days to one crappy day. it’s a high ratio because it takes something really really reallyreally crappy to make my day not awesome, because i have lots of awesome things in my life, and i am awesome too. i have decided to make awesome my bff.

sunday june 20

there’s an unfamiliar winter morning sunning my lazy bones. an addict, i need another coffee. i relish being switched off and it’s all-wrapping quiet. sighing breaths coat my lungs thicker than i can or care (don’t want) to remember. my back hurts. i need another, another coffee. make this one ristretto, double and burnt. for every thousand festivals, there’s one solemn day.