Currently.

I do not feel challenged in my current state of being. No discomfort or progression seems within my reach of where I stand today.

A list to push & a mind with purpose is what I need to form. My perseverance has faltered over the years and though I seem to have lost a true reason for my existence, this does not mean that this reason is lost forever without any future of being formed.

Reminding myself that any day is a new day and every day I can begin again has been my true challenge. While I believe this in my mind, my heart has been the most dismissive of what I need within myself.

Wake up, work, go home, pray for death, sleep- repeat. I imagine the death of myself as easy as putting documents through the paper shredder, I’ll just hop in there too. Pronto- no more me. It’s not that clean, not that easy.

I wonder about how the news would travel if my death were to occur at this time in my life. Facebook. Maybe an Instagram post or story by some of my friends? But those known only to me, without any mutuals between us- how would they know?

Weird.

I’m not suicidal, and I don’t say that to convince you or myself. More of a reassurance to anyone reading this that probably shouldn’t be. I’m also not here to let anyone know that I’m doing okay or for this to be some outwards call for help. I know who to call if I need help. This is just for me.

I haven’t been writing because really, I’ve had so little to say. My thoughts have not been wandering to the depths they normally live and my heart hasn’t felt pulled in any direction outside of it’s own. I haven’t been worked up or talked down. It’s been a stagnant few weeks. I’m doing my best just to remind myself that a few weeks isn’t an entire life unless I allow it to be.

The thoughts of doing nothing and allowing my life to transpire within this stagnation are present and they are real but I am fighting. My largest hurt in these thoughts is looking forward to myself in ten, twenty years from now and seeing how deeply I sold myself out by not pursuing anything. Though I may not know exactly what I want to do, me not doing anything is just adding fuel to the fire that destroys my soul.

More than anything I want to provide myself with a future where I feel proud of myself and my accomplishments. Not like the fraud that I often feel like these days. Though I know my power is real and the talents I possess are in fact mine, I feel disgraced knowing that I don’t push half as hard as I could and as I should.

Discipline has escaped me and respect has started slipping.

Dreams of stress and betrayal have consumed by nights. Sleepless with heartache caused by imagined failures and impossible problems clouding my mind. My eyes are not open to where these feelings of guilt and betrayal come from. The souls I meet in my dreams are recognized and real- why have you come to visit me here?

Regardless of the dreams that come to me in my sleep, these are not real and they are not me. Let this serve as a reminder to self that I am, and always will be, my present self. All things past and future combine with my present to create this being that walks freely in her steps and speaks calmly with her words.

This is me and I am still fighting.

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Idiot or Asshole?

Maybe I’m just fooling myself by allowing to be fooled.

Allowing myself to be the weak one when that’s not the role I know how to play.

I just don’t want to be angry anymore. How do we get past that? We as in me, not you and me.

I wish more of my actions felt meaningful. Wish more of my life felt like anything. It feels so very close to nothing. I don’t feel like the person other people see.

I can’t stop pushing for things that are already on the edge. Already chipping and I can’t stop hitting with a hammer, ready to shatter myself before I let it go. Why am I like this?

Never always, but always particularly particular. Obsessed from anxiety- why am I feeding this?

Am I the idiot or the asshole? The more I ask the more I realize the two are not mutually exclusive. The more I see I am both, the more like both I feel. The more weight I hammer onto myself.

Choices. I make them alone. Never has my hand truly been forced. My challenges come from within and I am good at digging. Digging and burying. Burying all that I no longer want to see, no longer want to feel.

Feelings don’t work like vision though. You hide something behind the curtain, it’s out of sight. You hide behind a curtain, but still I can feel your heat. Like emission from a plant, I smell your scent, your existence in the presence that you carry.

Maybe lonely is all I am and heartbreak is what I use as my disguise. I’m always the rock with nothing to stand on. Holding strong for all I love while I continue to tumble, tumble, tumble down. People don’t seem to notice you falling when it’s what you’ve always done.

People don’t seem to notice your pain when you often feel it. That doesn’t excuse your lack of care. That doesn’t excuse the blind eyes you share.

I vow to never disappear as some have disappeared upon me.

For me and you. Not you, you, but you, all of you.

I vow to be stronger for me. But what does that even look like?

Maybe one day I’ll have the guts

To explain just how the way you’ve made me feel is the way you were made to feel. Showing in detail the similarities between how your effected pain caused actions to do the same.

Maybe one day, I’ll feel different but as the days go on, the more I feel the same. The more I realize what I don’t want to say.

And maybe it’s just the lacking realization of how we act and how we want to be, not realizing so often that they are not one in the same. Not seeing how often what happens to us is just more of what affects how we happen to others.

It feels as if I haven’t cried in years yet my heart has been aching for decades. Slowly the chips fall away to show not the strength in where I stand but the melting fortress containing my fire and sometimes this looks like strength but right now it feels like hurt and pain and no matter which way I look, I’m not sure how to move forward. I don’t know where my path is, if there is one.

The lump in my throat grows but my tears will not fall. I walked aimlessly through the streets this day when you left and I had no thoughts to share, no tears to fall, no pain to understand. And before I realized my silence, I broke. I felt deeply and strongly and my heart hurt. I walked faster wanting only to slam myself in the ground, against the walls, into the sun.

Instead I walked. Responding with kindness and openness, none of which I felt.

It’s taken me weeks to see what I actually feel from this- to understand that there is not only goodness where you lie.

Maybe one day I’ll have the guts. To share truly how I feel. Maybe I’ll leave it here. With some slight faith that you don’t have a complete disregard for what I stand for.

Unfortunately at this point, I have proof of few things. Love is not one of them.

~~~~~

I’m finally losing grip of the comparisons I’ve held. Finally letting go of the expectations I’ve mastered

My empty hopes have been bled dry. My heart can no longer hold on to the ideas of what could be within your distant heart.

I am screaming at the top of my lungs. I am burying my head in the sand- head stands. Suppressing all that I can while nothing in my heart allows it to be. Nothing in my soul allows you to pass or stand or disappear. You are not present. You are not here.

I want heartache and heart break so I can FEEL something- anything – let me feel. I am calming myself with love in the fact that what I need is not what I currently want.

For what I want is to be ripped open and torn apart and sewn back together- with and without. But see, there isn’t one with the strength for me- not now. See I’d have to lessen myself- my heart – my soul – in order to let anyone even close to the goal. And that’s not what I need- that’s what I won’t allow.

These days, I don’t make myself smaller, I make myself stronger. I make myself more me and less of what you think every second I stand. Every second I breathe.

I’m not afraid to be ‘extra’ or ‘dramatic’ or ‘crazy’ ‘too quick, too soon’ ‘wrong timing’ ‘wrong words’.

The boxes we create for our love, our relationships, are the ultimate death for any real love to ever transpire around you. Standing on the ledge, too scared to jump, but not to compare. Not to judge what love should look like from the eyes of someone who won’t even allow themselves to see. Won’t allow themselves to feel without eyes. See without touch.

The weakness is you. The crazy is your own idealizations holding back anything real that could be birthed within your soul.

What could be is still an imagination but there’s no imagination to be had if you are not what is. Wake up and breathe. Wake up and fight.

Wake up.

This I Know

I’ve never feared being forgotten. See, I’ve learned over time that there are some things you do not forget. They embed themselves into you like your imprint in a shoe. Part of you like the new freckles on your nose.

The memories that never cease when the winds sweep you so. You’ve got to see the power you carry to feel it as deeply as you give it. To understand as strongly as you possess, you must awaken to the awareness of yourself.

Yourself who loves to the deepest of seas, the darkest of clouds. She who seeks not what’s lost but what’s left to gain. What can be salvaged in the chaos will be the light that illuminates what no longer seems within grasp.

The abyss that screams back louder than any scream you could ever give. She welcomes your light like a challenge. There is no weakness in pain. There is no strength in suppression. To feel and to feel deeply will be my greatest accomplishment.

Like soup on a plate, I falter- I spill. Still, like the first sip of water, I want only to fill you up- with light, with fresh. Like a flower standing tall to the sun, gaining inches with droplets- I want not to take from you.

You who thinks all my you is about you. You who never knew my you was really you. My you’s for you and you and no one, sometimes.

See, I don’t fear being forgotten. I’m aware of the weight I carry. I’m present with the effects I cause- the emotions I fuel- the imagined worlds I create. I know I am not forgotten. I know I could not be.

Not Your Muse

Here’s a contradiction for you:

I can inspire, but I am NOT your Muse.

I don’t serve you & I’m not here for you.

I am not your gift. I am not your salvation.

No see, I am that to me, and me alone.

I will feed you but I am not your food.

While I will water you, still I am not your source. I am not your life.

I will not hold the burden that is your creative mind.

I refuse to shoulder your darkness while allowing my light to overtake yours.

What I give, I give endlessly but I do not give without thought.

With honesty I can speak with you but I will not sit on the pedestal you build.

I do not belong there.

I am not a marvel, a statue to be examined. To be dissected as an alien of your form.

I am a loose leaf in the wind. Forever moving, forever changing.

I am not what you want me to be.

Not how you imagine to be. I am not what you seek for what you seek is the myth within the stories. The melody of the song.

See I am not the myth, but the legend. I am not the melody but the meat.

I am not here to serve you. I am not here to carry the title of Muse.

I am no Muse. I am me. I am fulfilling and I will take it all back as quick as I desire.

There is no you in me.

35mm film

To Me

In total transparency, this is hard for me to write about. Love. Lust.

Love with lust and love without. Lust with and without. Which do you prefer?

I’m floating in a daydream where one moment had is on repeat so I can imagine myself still there. Still present in the moment of eye contact and body movements. These I want to soak in.

Similarly, while I believe this is love with lust, I have felt love without before and I can find it again. Create that again. Pushing down, ignoring the rising delights of what is not present. What is not where we are.

I’ve wrote about you a million times and I feel only gratitude that through every time, my words have come from love and with care. Never bitter, never hateful.

I’ve learned in these times what honesty really is. How to wholly move forward with openness and without resentment. To be vulnerable because the receiving end is just as trusting and worthy as the giver.

Moments of seeing, where eyes are met. Serendipitous.

Such high soaring joy, that brings. Such stinging strings of heart that pull.

Unlike a seed in my throat, I want not to swallow the truth of this. Me. You. Every bit. Sighing to ease.

This is not a piece of reaching or fighting for something that is not but could. This is more my soaking. Soaking in the joy of every bit of what is there.

The strength of friendship. The mesh of personality with the flow of conversation and bond of love. I love soaking in this.

So, I’ll keep this one short- but sweet. Here’s to the memories because I cherish every one. Here’s to what’s next and who we each become and watering that bond as we move along.

This friendship has forever changed me. I am incredibly thankful. And I write this here because I already tell you so often. This is for me. (Thanks for listening)