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Blind Emotions
Blind Emotions
Blind Emotions
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Blind Emotions

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Blind Emotions is specially written for parents, mainly fathers and how they tend to go wrong while raising female children. It is a true story about a young adult. She has a bright future and a dark past catching up to her. She has never expressed her emotions to her parents but to a psychic. Irrational as her feelings can be, she is entitled to be heard. After all, to err is human.

Happiness is a young adult with a lot of darkness in her past. Her relationship with her father is a very strange one. She loves her father dearly and nothing can take that love away, but she also has been deeply scarred by her father. Her conflicting emotions are based on her experience with her father and how he raised her. She has her own perception of what and who a father is, and her father was never that when she grew up. She has emotional and physical scarsheartbreaking reminders of how badly she was brought up as a child. Although she had need for nothing, all the money, private schools, and beautiful homes was not enough. All she ever needed was the love, comfort, and friendship of her father. But life had other plans for her. She was a punching bag, a stress reliever, and that almost led her to her own downfall.
LanguageEnglish
Release dateDec 22, 2014
ISBN9781482804331
Blind Emotions
Author

Gomotsegang Daniels

Happiness is in fact the author (myself). The book is about me and my life. Therefore, I did an intentional self-insertion. I do not want anyone to know that the book is about myself.

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    Book preview

    Blind Emotions - Gomotsegang Daniels

    Copyright © 2014 by Gomotsegang Daniels.

    ISBN:            Softcover            978-1-4828-0434-8

                          eBook                 978-1-4828-0433-1

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    Toll Free 0800 990 914 (South Africa)

    Toll Free 0800 990 914 (South Africa)

    www.partridgepublishing.com/africa

    Contents

    Blind Emotions

    Paralised Emotions

    Hurt

    The Epitome Of My Distress

    Prison

    When Sadness…

    Trust

    Confussions

    Loss

    Lost Again

    The Norm

    To My Father, Part Of My Heart

    Epilogue

    Blind Emotions

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    They say a father is a constant rock in a young girl’s life. The thing that bothers me is that I have never known that to be true. I have seen friends with their fathers, happy and blooming; they have that father daughter relationship that is overwhelming. Being an outsider observing such affection makes you wonder why you didn’t get blessed with a father like that. A father that is your best friend, your guide, your strength and someone you can always take your troubles to and always know that you can count on him. I have two parents and both happily married but I have never embraced the fact that I had a constant father. He was more of an Egyptian king demanding respect and loyalty from his servants. That is something that I find very hard to understand. He is there but it always seems like everyone is trying to get away from him. Obviously not everyone but from my point of view and observations, it feels and looked like it. Of course I might be too naïve on that since that’s exactly what I am trying to do. Some of my friends did not have fathers, they yearned to have a present father, some fathers ran away and some fathers died but they still wanted that relationship. I understand that fact, but I also don’t understand it. I feel like I don’t have a father, I feel like the man I call father is someone who resents me and my being. Someone who resents me for who I am, and spends time trying to change who I naturally was born to be, into a puppet that will fall to her fathers will and wishes. Who regrets my upbringing and now that I am old and out of school and living my life, he wishes that I would disappear. See most young girls who do not have the kind of love that they need from their fathers (of course I might be naïve again) they turn to another male for comfort and love. Then the public will judge them when they fall ill or pregnant. See if something is missing in your life, you try to replace it with something else. And once you try to fill that cup, it can go either way, you find yourself a much greater love in your life and you begin to understand what love is or you find yourself at the bottom of a darkest pit. I try to understand why a girl would go through such extremities to try to impress other men out there, but I don’t still fully understand why. I have a friend who in her youth is just hungry for a man’s heart. And she is a very lovely young woman, but that love of a father that has been missing from her childhood is manifested in her adulthood. She turned her life over to men, being consumed by falling in love with the idea of love or the thought thereof. I never really turned to guys for love, I looked for it in friends, I looked for it in places and in experiments that I did as a teenager. Smoking being the operative word, even though I also used alcohol abusively, those were my only substitute for what I did not have or what I thought I did not have. But my dad was always there to pick me up never the less. Even when I’m passed out and don’t know what had happened to me. He’s always come to my rescue. And I understand when a child does such things she needs to be set straight but most of us have different ideas on how to set a child straight.

    Never the less my story has not begun yet. I’m sitting on a sofa deciding that if I go through with this, there is no turning back. I don’t want to make success out of another’s pain, but this has been my dream, to be a writer. Well…..#smiles… one of my many dreams. And if I have to write a first book, it had to be about something close to my heart, something dark and wounded, something bleeding and hurt, something needy and broken, and something real and contained, something CONTAINED, SILENCED and HURTING. I can’t contain it anymore. I don’t know how to, I don’t want it to turn into hate. I don’t relish in hating people, I’ve always forgiven, and try to forgive seven hundred times seventy. Hard as it is, I can never forget. Forgive and forget that is just a saying; I remember things in my childhood that I wish I’d forgotten when I forgave them.

    The difference is, without forgiveness you are bound, you are being suffocated and once you do forgive you are being freed. Forgetting I have learned to realize isn’t as easy, people have memories, bad and good. A scent might bring back a nasty memory, a place might snap it right up and a picture might do worse. But somehow you need to meet all those facts face to face, need to go back to that deep dark place, confront it in order to move on. Though in my case bad memories comes over time or in time. I’d be so happy and would have forgotten for a while but because I have not dealt with my past I cannot seem to move on and move past everything. Well let me not exaggerate things but the fact of the matter is that I feel bound not to move on until the object of my grief realizes that it is hurting and breaking my heart. Although at the moment I have closed my heart completely, not to be touched by the filthy words that try to bring me down. I have raised a wall so high that I feel like I’m heartless and when I start feeling far away from humanity, I lower it down and that is when I make the biggest mistake in my entire existence. In the spiritual realm it’s a demon and an evil force trying to drag my spirit to the land of the unknown, to the point of hatred and to the point of no return. I refuse to be a hater. I am a lover, I am a lover of all things good and bad, hence my name Happiness. I’m always happy, I am a smiley #laughs… But I have a demon of anger, pressing me time and again, the moment that I snap, I’m like a lioness protecting its cups or in my case, protecting the only person I feel needs protection from all the hurt in this world, MYSELF. I don’t like that but it goes back to not having that sense of direction in my life. I have a father but to me, he isn’t my definition of what he should be like. I know parents are not our friends, even though I would really love

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