let's go celtics

So that was a thing that happened. Me kissing you senseless against a wall. Yeah. Wonder do happen. I suppose you wondered what happened to me. To be honest I don’t even know myself. I just wanted it, I suppose. Really much. So much I didn’t care what anyone would think. Yeah. Hm. It can have something to do with that the image of you in those pants drove me crazy, so in the end I really couldn’t resist grabbing you and shove you up against the nearest wall and just let go.

The flag of the Celtic nations.

Top left: Brittany (Breton: Breizh)
Top middle: the Isle of Man (Manx: Mannin)
Top right: Scotland (Scottish Gaelic: Alba)
Bottom left: Ireland (Irish: Éire)
Bottom middle: Cornwall (Cornish: Kernow)
Bottom right: Wales (Welsh: Cymru).

People often like to talk about their “correct” names, but their “correct” name depends on what language you’re speaking. The correct name of Wales in English is Wales. You get morons prancing about saying “Wales’ real name is Cymru” but for some reason they don’t say Germany’s real name is Deutschland or Poland’s real name is Polska. It’s the same thing. “Cymru” is the Welsh name for Wales. But if you’re speaking English, then call it Wales. That’s what it’s called in English.

There is similar confusion about the name of Irish. People often say its “correct” name is “Gaelic”. In English, its correct name is Irish. Like Spanish, or Polish, or Swedish. “Gaelic” is more a family of three languages than a discreet language itself. There are six surviving Celtic languages, divided into two groups of three:

Goidelic or Q-Celtic (aka Gaelic):
Irish (Gaeilge)
Scottish Gaelic (Gàidhlig)
Manx (Gaelg)
Brythonic or P-Celtic:
Welsh (Cymraeg)
Cornish (Kernewek)
Breton (Brezhoneg)

Scottish Gaelic is called Scottish Gaelic and not just Scottish to distinguish it from a Germanic language called Scots, which is spoken in the Lowlands of Scotland, and a few counties in Northern Ireland and Ireland. Scots is descended from Northern Old English.

The flag does not include Northern Ireland as a Celtic nation, even though Irish is still spoken there. As such it’s possibly belying a bias in favour of a united Ireland. Or maybe they just thought it was too complicated and seven flags would be awkward to stitch together.

You will sometimes see the six Celtic nations expanded out to seven, eight or even nine Celtic nations, because some people try to include Galicia, Asturia and Cantabria in Northern Spain. I like to call this “fucking stupid”. No Celtic language has survived into modern times in these regions, their languages are Romance. If you’re going to start talking about them being genetically Celtic then you might as well do a DNA test on all of France and Spain too. Let it go, Galicia.

The Celtic languages Cornish and Manx arguably died out in terms of people speaking them as their native language. But the last native speakers died after the deliberate revival had already begun. There are recordings of the last native speaker of Manx, who died in 1974, and full dictionaries. The languages were preserved intact and many children in Cornwall and Mann are now raised speaking them along with English.

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She smelled like a memory.
She smelled like a happier time.
She smelled of something,
I knew of once before.
She smelled of something,
I have long since forgotten.

And it makes me kind of sad,
the memory is there, but
I can’t reach it and this woman
has made me think of my forgotten past
once again, and I don’t know what to do.

I don’t have a clue, just a scent in my nose
not letting go.

I’ve not really been me since you. You are still a sore spot of a memory for me. I lost myself somehow. I lost myself there, with you. I’m still there. Even if you’re not there anymore, I’m left waiting for someone that never will return.

The me of now, is just a shell. A body without reason. I’ve really not been myself since you. But still, I wonder if I ever were me myself when I was with you even. I lost myself in your wondrous eyes, didn’t I? I lost myself the very first time I rest my eyes upon you. From there forth I was never myself again. Not with you. Not now. I’m changed. You changed me. It’s sad, I still miss you. Even if I probably shouldn’t.

I really have to find me again. Or perhaps reinvent myself. A new me. Yes. Perhaps I should. I just need to let go first. Let go of you. The memory of you. Let it fade. I wonder how long it will take. But I hope, I really hope I will succeed. In some hidden corner of this body of mine, I actually look forward to the moment when I, at last, don’t remember you anymore. Not your smile. Not your laugh. Not your strong embrace. Not the shade of your eyes. Especially not that. Not anything you.

When it’s done, I will seriously considering this reinventing business. But I think I will be ready. When that day comes I will know. I will know me, again.

—  @celtic-poetry, Reinvention