Wednesday, March 18, 2015

Hole

There is a hole.
A dark, insidious hole where my heart is.
With one look at the liquid ether before me, calling my name, taunting me,
I feel it all. I feel the darkness creep in, little by little,
Tickling and scratching simultaneously.
Before long, I am consumed by my demons, triggered by the addictive liquid I burn for.
I feel the change, I cannot stop it.
I feel everything negatively.
The light fades, I become the darkness.

Taste after taste, the cool liquid, against my burning lips, I yearn for more.
Nothing can stop me now.
I am not me, I am the darkness.
I can feel it all.
Consumed by evil, consumed by this addiction, an addict in my own right.
There is nothing else, only the pain and aggression I unleash on those I love.
I am not me, I am caged within, prisoner inside my own thoughts.
I see everything, feel everything, but I am merely a puppet, the liquid ether my master.
"Stop", I yell, to no avail.
My loved ones stand before me as the monster in me inflicts pain.
I watch, helplessly, as they're hurt and angered by my own diseased tongue, or hand.
They see me, but know not of the prison I'm encompassed in as the horrid events unfold.

I endeavor to fight, battle my demons.
The liquid ether has paralyzed me, dimmed all the light and damned me.
I am helpless as the liquid ether runs through my veins and infects me.
I am unstoppable, but not invincible.
My only cure is sleep, though sleep is temporary.
After the damage is done, I crawl into bed and shut my eyes tight and weep inside.
The morning breaks upon my sensitive face, I blink repeatedly, adjusting to the light.
It takes a second before most of the events of the previous night come flooding in like a waterfall in the middle of Winter.
I shut my eyes again, but all I see is the pain I caused, all I feel, just the same.
I have allowed myself once again, to fall prey to the liquid ether.
"Where is my will power?" "Why have I done this?"

No, It has to stop here. No more giving in, no more burning, yearning, consuming myself with the glass that inevitably changes my make up.
I need to, I want to stand strong.
Be the person everyone knows me to be,
Be the person I was born to be, the person whom I love.
Damn the monster to the depths of hell.
Burn in a fiery pit.
I am fierce, I am strong. I am more than this addiction.
I have dreams, I have people to love and inspire.
This is who I am.
This is who I was meant to be.
I am only human, I make mistakes,
but no longer will I give into this temptation, the liquid paradise that makes me bold, and sadly changes the person I have worked so hard to become.

The road ahead is long, but it will be easy.
I do not need my vices, I want my freedom.
I have my freedom..
Give me a chance..

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Happiness is waiting...

Truth is folks, happiness is ours for when we dare to embrace it. We crave happiness, satisfaction and contentment but what are we doing about it? Waiting around for all these gifts to come our way. We ask, "Why am I not happy? Why can't I be happy?" expecting intricate answers to simple questions.

Truth is folks... these gifts are at the tips of our fingers, within our grasp, for when we want it, truly want it. These gifts aren't something we sit around waiting, patiently, or rather impatiently, for. No, it will never consume us if we're lying in our bed, sitting on our sofa, kneeling on our shower floor, hoping or wondering "Why me?".

CREATE IT!

Truth is folks... we're lazy.

CREATE IT!

MOLD IT!

Make the effort to search within yourself, or the small beauties around you and work on it.

Create your canvas of happiness. Colour your life beautiful. Think outside the box, colour outside the lines, be fearless. Sing your song, dance your dance. Love the little things and accept the big one's.

Truth is folks... Happiness is ours. For when we want it. Truly!

Monday, November 17, 2014

Love Struck

"Come hither", the temptress whispers in his ear.
Tiny hair follicles on end. riveting. 
Exploding synapses as the sound pouring from her tainted lips, sings the tune of his soul.
"I don't want this. Be gone seductress! Be GONE!" He howls across the universe, speaking to Fate and Destiny and all who hold his course.

Breathless he keels over, hands to knees, knees trembling, knees to ground, hands sweating. 
"Why is life so unfair?" 
The ultimate question. His thoughts are a blur, a ludicrous fusion of all that was right, and everything that was wrong. A compass pointing every which way, but no place in particular. Morals, vices, virtue, infused into a beautiful chaotic accord - an accord that was too vigorous and too feeble simultaneously.

Of the pain he has endured, of the love he has felt, or the sensations that he's lived for, nothing compares to the agony of this kind of passionate affair. An affair that unhinged every screw that had been perfectly placed. The wall that was built, the emotion that was hidden in the deep crevices of the soul, were ripped apart and left bare for the temptress. She devoured his heart, as he did hers. They feasted on one another as kings and queens feast on special occasions. 

The odyssey they pursued was exquisite. They traveled places near and far, crossed oceans, indulged in Life's beauty and chaos, flew high above the clouds and soared as eagles soar. Gravity, though, or Fate and Destiny, or even the Universe herself could not keep them flying through the pink and orange hued sphere. The sun set, and the clouds tumbled in, along with the thunder, and lightening struck them down to earth, down further, to a heated pit. 

The love struck wanderers found themselves in a heat of fury. Blame was thrown, hearts were broken and fires were blazing. But even through all the pain and suffering, there was a love like no other. A passion that incinerated almost everything in it's path. A sensation, not of this extraordinary world. But alas, love was not enough. 
Love cannot be enough in the depths of a personal Hell.

Life was unbalanced. Actions were impulsive, emotional, without conscious thought. 
Passion turned to aggression, awe turned to spite. Love was love was hatred was hurt was agony was beauty was passion was pain. 

Love did not survive the fury of the passionate heart. Yet it still lingers as they move forward in their lives. Hope is ever present, however small it may be.

Sometimes hope is all you need to move on. Sometimes creating a new life, a new love and new passion with whats right in front of you is the best way forward. 

Love the small things, love the crazy things, love the adventure, the pain, the passion and all that comes with it, but love outside your personal Hell. Or love after you learn to love yourself. Because that is what this comes down to folks. You can love someone with every single, minute fiber of your extraordinary being, but if you do not love yourself, love will not be enough. It will never enough. 

The sad, truth can set you free. 

Free yourself from self-hatred and learn to love and live with yourself. Once you do that, you'll be amazed at what you can accomplish. 
star-crossed lovers. by FrancesHolly

Tuesday, October 7, 2014

dear Depression,



i write to you. do not judge me for my lack of grammar, i am not a book.
i do, however have something important to say if you'll lend me your ear for a brief second.

it is truly sad how we undermine you Depression. your name is thrown around so lightly and playfully at times even by me. i cannot fathom the destruction you have caused, the storm you have released upon so many lives. you are darkness with no light, no bright side. you devour us like a hungry wolf and still come back for more.

try explaining to loved one's the feelings pulsing through you during an attack by the ol' mighty YOU. there is no fucking explanation and yet we're regularly asked, "are you okay?" to which we respond, "no" though unable to explain why we are not okay. or we respond "yes" simply. easily. yet the turmoil buried deep within is rising to the surface. that black hole we run from is slowly catching up and all we can do is stop, turn around and let it consume us because we know there is no where to hide.

getting out of bed to face the day is burdensome. with a rueful demeanor we drag our feet to the shower so as to not smell of yesterday's defeat. repulsed by friends and family we avoid contact by any means and then wonder why no one's calling to ask how we're doing. do they not care? alone we meander through the motions of the day wishing it would end so that sleep would consume us and reality would dissipate for a few short hours. only to wake up to a light that burns to the core. and so we crawl back under the blanket and cry.

why, Depression, why? it is a simple question. how do you finger us out and play at our strings. you, the great puppet master. why do you insist on humiliating us? we hide our mirrors because our reflections reveal an ugly portrait of you. we avoid feelings because you've made it impossible to feel anything but horrible. ugly. disgusting. worthless. hopeless. tomorrow is not another day when you are present. tomorrow is another door to hell with our name's printed ever so lonesomely on it. lonely. alone. isolated. forsaken. solitary. the only friend we possess during your massacre.

but boy do i have news for you Depression. your lifespan is limited. although you do not see it you provide an awareness, a sense of expanded consciousness. you provide a realization of truth. because no matter how hard you try to gain friends during your massacre, you will always be alone. you either kill or give life. the former and latter leave you without, leave you wanting. there will come a day where we see a flicker of light, of hope. where we'll take hold of a loving hand and be encompassed by a warm embrace. our cold blood will run hot, igniting a passion within us. igniting a fire that was smothered by your poisonous affection.

ah, there will be a day. just you wait and see. you are alone old friend. you are alone. and we, we are awakened by your touch. though scars remain, memories etched, we have tasted hell but we now walk through the cancerous fire with a thirst for a life. we do have something to say. we do have lives to touch and children to birth. passion to be felt, loves to be had. without doubt we know we'll cross paths with you again, and though we may not be prepared for it, there'll be that flicker.

and that flicker is all we need.

sincerely,
anonymous.


Thursday, August 21, 2014

When Opportunity comes a-knocking


So, we are human. That's obvious. And being human, living the lives we do, we are often faced with problems. Difficulties arrive and obstacles are introduced and we, as humans, are taken aback by these trials. We tend to curl up into little balls of fear. Our canvas is etched with worry and "what ifs". We lose sight of our goals in the process of worrying about the problem we are faced with. I was taught to overcome obstacles placed before me, I was taught to be strong, but alas we live in a conditioned society and the world at times can be cruel.  We cannot always live up to what we have been taught when the world around us teaches the masses to think a certain way.

Our difficulties are our own. And we can overcome despite the deep-seeded fear buried within. 

Do not fear the unexpected. Do not fear the problems you are faced with. Instead ask questions. Brainstorm this difficulty that has presented itself at the most inconvenient time in your life - as it always does.

"A pessimist sees the difficulty in every opportunity; an optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty."
Winston Churchill
Is there opportunity within this trial? 
Is there a lesson to be learned? 
Is there any value to the problem you're faced with? 
How can you overcome and grow from this difficulty?

Every problem you're faced with has some sort of value, or lesson, or opportunity hidden in the depths of it's disparity. You have a choice. 

You can be pessimistic about the problem, anticipating only the bad, but where does that leave you? With undesirable outcomes?. If that is your way of over-coming, there is no judgement. Each to their own. 
OR
You can be optimistic when faced with a problem and know that the situation before you is of value to your life and your circumstances. Lessons can be learned and new outlooks can be established.
It is your choice. You decide whether you learn from the situation, move forward and grow. 
OR
You can adjust to the situation. You can view the difficulty for what it really is and be realistic about what is happening. 

Should you find negativity in the wind, you can either hope for it to change or adjust to it. Ultimately there is no right or wrong way of overcoming. Each of us is unique in our own right. We all function differently. If you cannot adjust to your situation then be optimistic about the problem. Every problem has a positive outcome buried at the root. Seek opportunity in every difficulty - perhaps the outcome will be that of positive value and lessons learned from pushing through or adjusting when times get rough.

You are worth more than pessimism. Don't wish for undesirables to come your way. There is always some value in every situation. Seek opportunity. Invite opportunity in when it comes knocking at your door. 

Overcome. Learn. Grow.

What would you do if faced with a problem? 


















Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Ego: Through the Fire & into the Belly of The Beast

Part Two:

Running is easy.

Sprinting through the fire and into the belly of The Beast is easier.

The days that followed my encounter with the Ultimate Casanova have been capricious. My erratic behavior noticeable and questioned.

Oh, the Holy Grail. Ego handed me a golden goblet filled with all-mighty destruction and watched as I gulped, greedily. His smile was laced with malevolence as he rubbed his palms together.

Now I stare into the hazel eyes of the one I truly love. My heart breaks, piece by piece, as the obliteration of our relationship continues.

I question him.
I doubt him.
I fear him.

Broken. His fragile heart.

Mere words. Murder. The world around us is deafening. The silence emphatic. It only took a juncture for the flames to rise from beneath our mangled bodies and burn our souls. The rambunctious words of total annihilation kept pouring from my tainted lips. I willed myself to stop, but to no avail. All I could do was cry.

Cry for him.
Cry for his soul.
Cry for his torn love.

I can tell you this. He loves me. Irrevocably. But to his detriment? To mine?

Ego can taint a person. Ego can change one's thought process. Ego can infect your immune system. Ego can alter you. But there is hope. There has to be.

I sit. Watching. Watching his every move. For fear of him meeting someone that'll steal his heart - knowing full well that his heart has already been stolen. I am surrounded by an ocean of people exuding happiness, anger, sadness. But none of these emotions matter to me. The noise fades into nothing as Fear consumes me and invites Jealousy to accompany us into the darkness that looms around the corner.

It starts in my toes, spreading up to my ankles, entwining around my carves like vines - creeping slowly, poisoning my synapses. The venom spreads throughout my body, corrupting and influencing every thought and every action. I lose control. All of me - contaminated by Ego's malice.

Ego, wretched Ego.

I drop to my knees, drowning in the crowd, surrounded by an illusion of people who are better than me, more attractive, intelligent, challenging. I scream inwardly. I weep tears of silence and imprison my unwanted guests - Doubt, Jealousy and Fear - knowing that they'll escape and attack in the unpredictable future.

One
Two
Three
Four

Days pass by. I endeavor to restrain my prisoners. I'm strong, but the uninvited are stronger. United they stand. United they escape. United they attack. Pouncing on their unsuspecting victim.

His expression drips with a thousand unspoken words. His hazel eyes saddened. His beautiful face is warped, he shakes his head in sorrow and disbelief as I attack him for reasons that I have created. Reasons that were artistically painted on a canvas of delusion with the help of my fellow artists.

My words cut like a thousand blades - laced in assumption and misconception.
Suddenly, I stop. I listen. I hear the insanity.

I whisper the words: "I'm sorry".

To be continued...




Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Can you feel it?

“The truth will set you free, but first it will piss you off.” 
― Gloria Steinem


A wound, deep
Jagged edge, blunt force
Stab me with your actions
Console me with words

Hiding? From what? 
Me? Yourself? The world, perhaps.

Time can heal, time can allow a wound to fester.
Time... is this and that
Can you feel it? Time...
It creeps in all around you
Consumes you.

What are you waiting for? 
Time is not waiting for you..
Time can heal, time can allow a wound to fester.

Truth, freedom, honesty
Words of the positive
Words that simultaneously hold a life in it's claws
Honesty spits out the truth that turns imprisonment into freedom

Freedom can heal, freedom can break your heart.
Freedom... is this and that
Can you feel it? Freedom...
It suffocates you to the point of breathing
Are you free?

Wednesday, July 2, 2014

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Ego: The Ultimate Casanova





Part One:

A soft whisper. 

Enticing to say the least, I remember it vividly. Sporadic words over years foreshadowed what was to be epic, though blind we were to this revelation.

Loveless, we found solace in each other’s intellect, silently spitting words that resonated emphatically, through two bodies that would later become one.

A fairytale began as quickly as it ended.

I studied the story excessively, disconcerted by the abruption that came to pass.

Was it possible to murder a healthy condition of the heart with a despicable act of adultery? Of course it was possible. It happened. It withered. The carnage that was to follow, found me cowering like a fearful child.

Forgiveness is easy.

Decontaminating the mind is complex.

It is assiduous, endeavouring to make work, that which has been broke. Months, years of epiphanies, new horizons, only to fall face forward into the gaping hole of Ego. Once every fortnight or so, I fall. Down the cavernous darkness and into Ego’s open arms. Master of the Carnage of Happiness, I call him.  

He beckons, skeletal hand outstretched before me, “Come hither, sweet child. I have been waiting.”  

His eyes, white and bright, eager for me to go forth and sit beside him on his throne of utter loneliness. I could feel it creep in around me. My mind, playing tricks as the shadows lurked, forming silhouettes of past mistakes. Did Love really require such earnest drudgery? Doubts came swooping in and I began questioning my relationship.

Drat!

I sat, staring in wonder, as Ego held my beating heart in his emaciated hand and squeezed. The pressure was agonizing, my eyes, large, protruding from their sockets as I tried to find breath.

I felt Selfishness creep in first. The son-of-a-bitch took his time about it. Worming through every selfless, loving feeling I had. Then came Doubt – oh did he have a marvellous time. He enveloped the trust I had built and sealed it with a poisonous kiss. A moment after Doubt, came Fear. Fear consumed me, seeped into every pore, contaminating my blood stream, my thoughts. My freedom had been stripped in mere seconds. I was now at the Mercy of Ego and he loved it!

Ascending from the pit, I awoke with a jolt. Sweat dripping. Silence. A beautiful sound. He was asleep beside me. Beauty personified, he was. His lids fluttered as he explored the land of Dreams.

Alas, I was not the only one awake. I could hear them, feel them. Breathing heavily at the nape of my neck, hairs on end as darkness turned into nothing. Doubt was a trickster. Planting seeds in my head to grow a garden of implausible thoughts. Selfishness offered me a beautifully red apple which I whole-heartedly accepted, knowing full well that it would poison my selflessness, but it looked too juicy to resist. Fear, well Fear knocked me right off my feet as he played ‘Who Wants to Be a Millionaire.’


Ego had won this hand. A royal flush was unbeaten by a puny pair of aces. Ego's Poker game had only just begun and I was already drowning and overdrawn. I was consumed. I was selfishly doubtful and filled with fear. 

My feet were itching to leave. 

I got up and walked towards the door in hopes I wouldn't wake the man that was to feel my wrath in the morning. 

Just as I reached the door I froze to the sound of his angelic voice: "Where are you going baby?"


To be continued......

Wednesday, March 26, 2014

The Door-mat Society

So, here is a tiny piece of advice for you.


For all you boys and girls, men and women, and everyone in between, who find yourselves pleasing people and sacrificing who you are, doing favors - or rather feeling the need to say "yes" to someone who asks you a favor - this one is for you.

There is a difference between doing a favor for someone and feeling an unrelenting obligation to do something for someone, often at your own expense. The mind is a complex thing. It can be wired and re-wired over and over again. This can go unnoticed for years until one day you're absolved and you're able to pinpoint where you went wrong and work specifically on the part that needs love and care.

We are often slaves to our own minds, constantly hoodwinked into thinking a certain way, whether it be logical, emotional, implausible or obscure. People-pleasing often stems from lack of self-love, and there being little to no acceptance of one's self, thus the need to seek out affirmation or recognition in doing things to please other people. I think we lose ourselves in this maze of torment. Taking on different personality traits to please different people will hinder your sight of who you are and the person you were meant to be. 

Now, I completely agree, affirmation makes one feel good about themselves, and everyone does seek this out once in a while, however, be sure to tread the line carefully. The line can and often does become a blur. People come into your life, take advantage of your Door-mat status, ask favors of you, "need" you for whatever crisis is going on in their lives, in return you receive your affirmation,  but then they wipe the hypothetical dirt off their feet when exiting your life. It leaves an horrendous stain and pungent odor of disappointment. That is when the self-loathing sets up home and gets comfortable.

Don't allow favors to become your duty. You have a choice, you can say "no". Know the difference between a favor and an obligation towards doing something for someone. Once you do this, you can concentrate on loving yourself more and finding yourself. The liberation you'll feel when you finally say "no" is remarkable. 

Find absolution from the Door-mat society and learn to say "I love me", "What can I do for me?" I can assure you, it is not selfish, it is simply taking better care of yourself and helping those who need you without it being at own your expense or sacrificing pieces of yourself because you're afraid of the rejection.

Love yourself! You are an exquisitely unique creature and you deserve your own happiness! 

Thursday, January 23, 2014

To Be A Writer.....




There's a cool breeze around me, the smell of fresh ground coffee beans, so decadent, my mouth is watering. I hear the ebb and flow of the waves crashing against the shore, emitting a tangy, salty odor, filling my nostrils and fusing with the scent of coffee. It takes me back to yester-years. A little child ambling along the shore, finding debris the most fascinating thing. The sight of it, the feel of it, the taste, though often never what we  were expecting, but alas, still something that should be tried. When you're a child, the world is your playground, your wreckage. To dig, to explore, to stumble and fall upon anything and everything. Life is full of possibilities when you have absolutely no worries.

 So sitting here, sipping my coffee and smoking a cigarette, worrying about what comes next and how this year will turn out and the bills I have to pay and my new health regime I need to dedicate myself to, I gaze ahead toward the ocean. My comfort, my home. There's a fog playing just above the horizon, holding such mystery and just then I am overcome with a harmonious sensation. I have allowed my senses to take control of my being, relieving my mind, body and spirit. A form of meditation perhaps? Perceiving life differently? Looking at things from a new and mysterious perspective? Truth is, we cannot worry about the things we have no control over. Living in the 'here and now" is our saving grace. Today is a gift, tomorrow a mystery. Why endeavor to know what the future may hold, when your time is now?

The seagulls are lurking near any discarded scraps they can find, some swooping down toward a fellow gull in protest. It's a war, a battle for survival. One needs to be dominant in order to survive.. Sitting around, waiting, never served anyone any good. You want something? Go out and get it. A philosophy I have only just learned to live by.

I have had writer' block for a while. It's been frustrating and damn near killing me. But a wise man said to me, just this morning, that I should right what I feel, hear, see and touch. A writer should be able to write about anything because we perceive life differently. A sound we hear or a face we see, a hand we touch can fuel a fire and become the greatest story ever written. So when I gaze upon the ocean, I don't only see water and sand, I see a vast ocean of opportunity waiting for me to grasp it with vehemence. When I hear the waves upon the shore, I hear stories waiting to be written, to be told. When I look at an old man buried in a worn novel, utterly captivated by it's content, I see a thousand lives lived, I see a story of war and love and life. When he forces his eyes away from the paperback and gazes at me, his face etched into a scowl, lines deep and full of worry, moulded that way from years of experiences, I  see the beauty of aging, a painting, perfect in it's own right.

There are many things in life we cannot control, things that should be left for when the time comes. The things we can change though, are our thoughts, the way we perceive life, the way we judge or even the things we hear from another person. Make up your own mind, control your fears, work through your thoughts and perhaps what you see, feel, hear, touch or smell will make a little bit more sense to you and open not just one, but many doors to greater possibilities.

Thursday, December 5, 2013

Bittersweet Fairytale

"But I'm a million different people from one day to the next, I can't change my mold" - The Verve

Once upon a time there was an average girl, living an average life, trying to be a different person for all those that crossed her path. In the beginning, it worked, she was able to subtly manipulate people into believing she was a specific kind of person so they would accept her instead of rejecting her. As time went on and the days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months and months turned into years, she discovered she'd lost her true identity somewhere among the falsehood that had been her life. Afraid, and alone, she battled to come to terms with the inner turmoil that threatened to erupt and tear apart the life she had built.

One fine morning she awoke with a heavy heart and realized a change was to come. The girl packed her bags and booked a flight, an escape from this terrible reality. She traveled to a place where she was finally able to find herself, but with every fairy tale comes the trial and tribulation that she was to overcome. Along her travels she met a "knight" in shining armor. Or so she thought. Months were spent questioning herself, wondering whether she was good enough, or even worth loving truly. She cried herself to sleep, until one night she decided to compartmentalize her life, to live completely void of emotion and pain. The plan was set into motion the very next day and so she lived happily for a few more months, never allowing emotion to take control of her life, except for the acts that required a piece of her.

After coming to terms with the fact that this man would never love her, with the fact that perhaps love was just a fairy tale, a myth, a fallacy, she met a writer. A young, dark man, with inner turmoil, just like her. They spoke everyday, and she fell in love, as did he. So alike the two were, however she struggled to open up to him. She'd been so lost for so long without the chance of being emotional or allowing people to see her true form, afraid they'd reject her, as she'd been rejected most of her life, that she found solace and escape elsewhere, not realizing that the truth would have set her free.

She'd been a million different people from one day to the next to help people in need, completely setting aside her own inner turmoil, that ironically it would be herself that would destroy her chance of true love.
She'd finally found herself in this man, her soul mate, soul twin, her lifeline and yet once again the questioning starts. Is she worth the trouble? Is she worth this kind of love? Is she worth the pain endured from such betrayal? Is she worth anything at all?

Doubting her self worth became another obstacle to overcome. But she knew she would be strong, she knew that although she had her own struggles to overcome and endure, she'd do so with a smile on her face, still making a difference and impacting the lives of those who needed her.
Alas, in the dark corners of her mind she still longed to be accepted for all her faults, all her imperfections, and her mistakes. She longed to be taken care of for a change, to have someone love her truly and wholly, no matter the circumstance.

And so one night, she knelt down before God and prayed for guidance. She prayed for forgiveness, for cleansing, for solace. She prayed for love and friendship and complete acceptance. For the strength to be who she was meant to be.

With tears in her eyes, she lay down to sleep and dreamed of an other worldly place. Of her knight, her dark, handsome writer. She dreamed of forgiveness, of the bond between them, of love and light and darkness simultaneously.

She is yet to wake up....................

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Selfish in Practice, though not in Principle

"I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle" - Jane Austen


I read something today which resonated within me. I related completely and wholly to the words I had read. Powerful and painful they were, playing around in my mind, as children would do in a playground. Bouncing from swing to see-saw to merry-go-round, tiring me out, and leading me to second guess myself - not necessarily a bad thing though. 

We as human beings on this vast plane, living day to day in this universe, struggle with emotion, we struggle with selfishness. Our struggle today is the recognition of the depth of our emotion and the "Great Wall" we construct around ourselves. Selfishness being one of the main factors contributing towards the bricks cemented on a daily basis. People enter our lives for a reason, however is that reason solely to assist in the constant construction of the wall or rather the renovation of our lives, the deconstruction of the walls that have been built up over years of being disappointed and let down by people closest to us. Is that then why we close ourselves off? Why we have become unemotional, yet deeply emotional beings? Why the world around us seems to be falling? Because we cannot seem to demolish the wall, feel empathy and sympathy to the state of the world and it's crumblings?

The question is.... Do we want to feel? Or would we rather continue on a journey of inner emotion, never revealing the inner turmoil bashing and banging against the "Great wall", dying to be released and heard.

Emancipation from pain would be my saving grace, but then would I prefer to feel pain, rather than nothing at all? Would I prefer to be empty, void of emotional substance, than feel pain from those who I allowed entrance into my "Great Wall"? I often feel detached, unemotional - selfish to those around me, because I cannot give them the emotional support they require. It's a flaw, a fault of mine, but I cannot seem to catch wind of endeavoring to slowly start the renovation of my life, my "Great Wall."

I am selfish in practice, but not in principle. I was brought up with morals, taught right from wrong, learned about selflessness, and supporting others in their endeavors. However, the world around me seemed to strive on selfishness and so, unwillingly, I gave into the emotion - conformed to society around me. By no means was it intentional, however, realization has dawned, and a revelation came about, perhaps I am just a selfish being in practice, even though my principles are selfless. 

The revelation is poignant. I am jaded by whether or not to demolish the "Great Wall" and place unyielding faith in my fellow beings. But perhaps it is time to feel afresh. Perchance the time is now. The deconstruction of the "Great Wall" may take time, and that's okay. Ultimately we will take it step-for-step, as long as we continually strive to reveal one emotion after another. Perhaps then, selfishness will dissipate and selflessness will reveal itself, making home in all our hearts.

Sunday, October 20, 2013

A Suitcase of Memories

"What is a friend? A single soul dwelling in two bodies" - Aristotle

Friends-Sisters-Soul Mates

My dearest friend

I long contemplated what it was that I wanted to express to you and the perfect words to explain the depth of the gratitude I feel for you. I was in two minds about whether or not I should publish such a personal letter, but I was impetuously reminded last night that the time we have on this planet is sadly limited, and I knew then that I would certainly regret not publicizing the depth of a friendship you and I share and how you saved me - and would undoubtedly save others on your awe-inspiring journey.

I carry always, a suitcase packed with memories, a guitar on my back and a photo in the pocket of my heart. Memories of junctures I hold dear to my soul. A guitar to strum the melody of life. A photo - a frozen moment of a spectacular woman that shaped my life, and that constantly inspires me to be better.

Although we have certainly had our differences, no amount of time, distance or difference has driven a wedge between our ever entwined souls. My past, my present and my future, have, are and will be made richer because of your astonishing presence.

When my time of need arises, I have you to thank for easing my soul. You shine light on a dark crevice in my mind. My demons are laid to rest because your presence is so vehement. I live each day knowing that I will walk an inspiring, ever-changing journey with you by my side.

In life it is so very rare to find a connection like the bond you and I share. Overcoming trials and tribulations, basquing in complete and utter bliss, meeting different people, learning about new cultures, healing broken hearts, entertainment during those deathly times of boredom - which I must add are few and far between.  You have tattooed my life and it is this message I'd like to convey to you.

In art, as in life, we begin with a blank canvas. A vast array of options and materials lie before us and it is our choice as to which method of creative ardor we choose to move forward with. When we begin our vigorous life journey, we already have a set plan in mind. A set artistic way we've chosen to embrace and travel along with. However, it is this norm in which we find our struggle, our artistic block. Not realizing that we can change our minds, and change them again, we find ourselves stuck and praying to the divine deity to give us some inkling as to which direction we should go fourth with.

The choice has been ours all along. Our sight was blinded by unnecessary caution, caution that should ultimately be thrown to the wind. Our moral compasses will surely guide us on the right path and our inner creative fortitude will unleash the splendor of our unpredictable lives. Once we realize this, our sight, our minds, and our souls will know a true freedom. A freedom of fear of the unknown. A freedom of fear from judgement. A freedom of fear from time.

I ask of you, my dear friend, do something that brings joy to your life. Find what makes you blissfully happy, find that which gives you butterflies in your bum, find your passion for life and do everything in your power to embrace it and indulge in it. Fuck the rest! Life is too short to second guess yourself, as you and I very well know. Life is too short to spend our days sleeping it away. Our very own Bucket List awaits us. What are we waiting for? Better days? The better days are here and now. There is no better time than the present.

Pursue your happyness!

I'll be there every step of the way. I'll catch you when you fall. I'll wipe away your tears. I'll celebrate in your achievements. I'll basque in your love found. I'll be standing beside you at the alter. I'll be in the delivery room, holding your hand. I'll forever linger in your soul as you do in mine. And even in the next life, I shall paint canvases of memories I hold close to my soul. I could leave this world knowing with every fiber of my being that I had the most epic friend, sister and soul mate in you.

So I thank you from the depths of my soul. When you first allowed me a piece of your soul you saved me. We had no idea what would become a friendship that had started out so rocky, but we certainly have a suitcase stacked with memories - good and bad. Lyrics to melodies of our different yet similar lives. And photos of junctures frozen in time for a lifetime of remembrance.

Chok dee ka my friend, my sister, my soul mate. Here's to another sixteen years of firsts, lasts, heartbreak, arguing, crying, adventure and love!

BUCKET LIST
1. Travel the World
2. Write a novel
3. Ride an Elephant
4. Be blessed by a Monk
5. Skinny dip beneath the moon
6. Get a tattoo
7. Learn a new language
8. Help change lives
9. Let off lanterns
10. Sleep under the stars

And these are but a few of our 365..
I will be there every step of the way my dearest friend.

Let the journey continue!



Friday, October 18, 2013

If Only for a Juncture

If only for a juncture, I’d give my last beat to gaze into your eyes
Feel your breath upon my skin
If only for a juncture, I’d elude all time to hear your voice
To melt under your caress
Your beauty is unrivaled, your soul is resplendent
Your words are my undoing
All that I am, is yours irrevocably 
Should I not see the day that we were to cross paths
I could let go peacefully, knowing my soul found its counterpart in yours
That I had moments of truth
Moments of knowing that you had all of me and I had all of you

I long to marvel at your smile
To breathe the same air as you
Though I know tonight we gaze upon the same moon
And as I close my eyes to basque in this thought, your face appears as a portrait
The light casting shadows, causing contours of sublime tomes which are etched into your being
To behold such a statuesque illusion is unequivocally tedious, knowing I cannot place my hand upon its splendor

I clutch my heart in agony
My lips parting slightly
Whispering to the divine deity, I heed as my words flutter through the cosmos
Letting go of all my inhibitions in hopes they’ll lead me to you
My eloquent knight, you are riveting
The divinity I behold when I gaze upon a frozen moment is ardent
But the impetuous realization that we are worlds apart is rueful
Though, never will I relinquish hope that one day soon you’ll stand before me
I implore you dear Knight, do not dwindle off course
For our two halves were meant to be whole
And as the Phoenix rises from the ashes
So shall our ever-waiting love, once lost to an ever-changing realm
Travelling lifetimes to once
again beat as one jubilant entity

If only for a juncture, I’d stand before you and bare my soul
Naked to the world, but home in you
If only for a juncture, I’d paint a thousand portraits of you
Sitting before me, eyes smiling, no dismay, no qualm
Because all that has occurred has lead us to this point
A realization
A sudden dawning
A moment of truth

For you, my soul, my heart, my love
I am everything and nothing simultaneously
For a love like ours does not want for anything
It is not jealous, nor is it boastful
Our adoration exudes humility and grace
A truly handsome fortitude 
Between two strangers that were chaperoned by a divine intervention of our souls 

If only for a juncture, I would love you for a lifetime and another still





Forbidden Fruit - An End to a Beginning

A look,
An electric touch
As powerful as the heat of a thousand suns
A sensation that too scorches
Ignites a fire
A world of burning desire

A morning
An eccentric evening
As the sun bids farewell to the rising celestial crescent
A thought that too sings of valediction
Spawns a new era
A world filled with contemporary fervor 

And as we walk through the valley of a new found glory
We tread along paths that have yet to share stories
Oh smile, ye of little faith
Fear not for we will win this race
Though life may be fickle, she can also be kind
A great contradiction Mother Nature is nigh

A lesson
A professor of faith
May we be the ones to ultimately create
A world that too is built on credence
In the classroom we yearn
For the power of knowledge we so wish to learn

And so 'tis the end to my fictitious fable
An unpredictable conduit to which we are disabled
Through perjury emanates the gilded truth
To which naught will be exempt from eating the fruit
Hope will hoist us into the new
For this is how it ends, albeit this is how it begins too






Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Through Eyes of a Stranger

Fragments of her were scattered across a world that she had not yet discovered. She, who knew no boundaries. She, who lost herself through gateways of infinite pleasure. Broken destruction encompassed her, swallowed her into an ether of burning desire. She drowned in their love, she suffocated beneath them. Their harsh yet tender touch caressed her womb, caressed her soul - lighting a fire she so wished to smother.
The insatiable act was worldly but alas, her eyes closed and she lost herself.
"A dream, a nightmare, that's all this is," she wept silently.

She pleaded inwardly and bled at the surface. Heady were the sensations her body had come to know and betray her for. Vehement were the acts between kindred souls.

The familiar tug battered the breath from her rigid lungs, beseeching their master for release, pleading to escape from the moment it had been captured in. And as she lifted her lids, she disconnected from within. Burning embers bore into her - a desire scorching.
She could feel it. A piece of her escaping. Another piece that would be lost to an unworthy opponent.
The suffocation came slowly - the zest for life she once knew - now weighed heavy on another.
As she lay surrounded by fragments of herself, the tormented shards of her soul, the depth of her life - were ripped from her, leaving her bare. Cold, shaking, she stared at herself through another's eyes. Her bruises evident. Fractures at the seams that were once home to her passion for creativity.
This beautiful carnage wept for herself. Her once-whole heart bled for a love she'd never know. She was powerless against Mother Nature's disappointment.

Darkness fell upon the Emerald City. The Yellow Brick Road had been eradicated. This home she once knew was dilapidated now.

Life was unexpected, unpredictable. She was floating in an ocean of aberrations, no horizon in view. She floated - arms stretched out - waiting patiently. The silence was deafening. Louder and louder the silence screamed until she could bare it no longer.

Then came the inevitable moment.

Sinking into the blackness of the ocean that enveloped her. An ocean of lies, deceit, betrayal - aberrations belonging to her and her alone. Responsible for her own fate - tainting the innocence of the sea with scarlet. She could taste death at her lips - it was bittersweet. Because albeit her life was at it's final moments, she was relieved. A tsunami of images washed over - a sensation so vehement it clouded her mind and a life of torment dissipated - swallowed by the depths of a vast, hungry being.

Suddenly her mind was as clear as a daisy-filled field on the first day of Spring. Her soul felt like that of wild horses roaming free, no cares, no worries. Galloping on to new horizons, new adventures.

The Emerald City awoke from it's slumber, the Yellow Brick Road mended and now paved with hope. A dream, undeserved, but pursued with gratitude and fervor.

A second chance had been gifted to the wounded soul.


Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Riding with the Moon

I long for a fairytale love
I long for a Knight on a white steed
The facade I wear is cracking
And I cannot pretend any longer
I cannot blink away tears of a faltering hope

I am young, I am old
Time is but a luxury that cannot be wasted
On a search that may possibly destroy dreams
Dreams of a scared little girl
My dreams

Blue orficases lurk in the distance
An out-stretched hand I glimpse is out of reach
I scream
But the silence is deafening
The voice that would have been is not heard

The song has now come to end

And so I fall on my knees
My tear-stained face turned upward
Toward the night sky
My hands clasped toegther
Against a withering organ

The celestial sphere above, twinkles
Yet I can see the tiny flames slowly flicker and fade
Like the hope I had for a love that remains unknown

I pray
Angels lead me to my knight
Lead me to where my heart belongs

I'm suffocating
My soul is on fire
Though I fear the flame, will too, flicker and fade
Then all that I am, will die beneath the night sky
While my knight stands just out of reach

On my knees
Hands clenched
Praying for a miracle

I dream to put my arms around my beloved knight
And I hope to do no wrong unto him
Instead, fill him with the love reserved for he who makes me whole

My love
Answer my plea
So we, two halves, can be whole
So that life may begin

And on my knees, I'm frozen
Jaded by an unyielding search
Dampened by relentless tears
Transfixed by the sapphires
That search my face
Worry etched into irises

Come to me
Come to me Knight

Darkness closes in, enveloping me
Green blades, damp with dew against my cheek
I breathe Mother Nature

I breathe
I pray
Angels lead me to my Knight
Lead me to where my heart belongs

And as the last tear soaks into the soil
So my lids grow heavy
Consciousness fades into unconsciousness
Dwelling between reality and fantasy

His hand touches mine
The sensation ardent, so vehement
I take with me the solitude of the moment
Enraptured by the feeling of my skin beneath his touch

I feel his lips at my ear
His luscious words my undoing
"Wait for me my love. Do not give up"

Though the morning light blinds me
My eyes are open for the first time
A new morning
Blessed with a new day

I grasp the gift of life with both hands
Cherishing it
My heart is filled with love
As I await my Knight

My Knight that rides with the moon
And sings the morning song of the early bird
I wait
I wait
I am happy
For the love I have will be vehemently encompassed by a worthy opponent
And my mind will be challenged by the eloquent Knight
In search of his light
In search of his half

To once again be whole
To once again be whole

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Abstract Pain

The ear-shattering silence that envelopes me is unbearable
I find myself weeping for a loss I know not of
Past moments flicker by like lightening during the sunrise
As I reminisce of a time I no longer bethink

The Sensations that encompass my trembling body are nonsensical
Though I comprehend them all too well

A rhythmic pounding begins in my chest
Playing a familiar, lonesome symphony
And as the darkness writhes in
And the silence becomes deafening once more
I hum a new tune,
Unfamiliar to my ear

The realization has now set in
All feeling subsides
Numbness spreads throughout my tender frame
My head bowing to an abstract pain

I sit in the corner of a circular room
Encased by darkness
Shedding light on a lone inky tear that falls to my pale knee
Huddled against my chest
In hopes of binding together the ever-splintering organ that was my heart

And I sing a melody that has no words, no tune
I sing out loud, adding to the silence.
My nails scratch against a wall that isn't there
Leaving behind etches in the troublesome sphere

For the longest juncture of a short time
I remember
I dwell on memories that are not my own
Memories that play merrily in the dark abyss of my insane mind
And although sanity prevails, insanity wins
I am forever a contradiction unto myself

Two minds alike
Two souls entwined
Within one vessel
Inside my mind