cry

A release of energy, of toxins

A contortion of muscles, a downturn at the corners of the mouth

The tenderness of your body, inside and out–everything is sharp, everything hurts

The feeling that this feeling will never stop

Until it does.

The waterworks subside, muscles relax, a few final shuddering breaths to renew the system

Do you ever think about how much you cried as a child compared to now?  I can remember crying almost daily as a child, and at the smallest of things.  I dropped a plate.  A loved or worshiped one shooed me away.  Someone made fun of me.  I fell and scraped my knees.  I embarrassed myself one way or another.  I’m tired and frustrated and don’t know how to express it.  I remember hating the fact that I cried so often and wishing I were an adult so I wouldn’t have to.  Continue reading

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earth angels

I’m actually battling some kind of sickness right now–sore, swollen throat and endless fatigue complete with spaghetti limbs and pinky cloud brains.  Should my train of thought wander, I apologize in advance.

Funny thing about kind honesty with no ulterior motives–it actually has returns.

One halloween about two years ago I was at a party with friends and the guy I was talking to at the time.  While at the party, I spotted the most beautifully ethereal guy I’d ever seen–alabaster skin, ice-blue eyes, them cheekbones with the perfect blush, and the most beautiful curly light blonde hair I’d ever seen. Continue reading

instinct

It’s taken me so long to get around to this post simply because my whole thought process cycled around once again and muddled the clarity of understanding I was building here.  I think I’ve got it now.

In the area of love, most of us are petrified of honesty.  I’ve been listening to a wonderful podcast lately titled Guys We Fu**ed in which the hosts refer to this phenomena, a time period at the beginning of any romantic relationship, as ‘the stubborn phase’.  It’s that phase where both parties are completely committed to their attraction to the other person but refuse to speak it aloud.  Rather, both people kind of dance around it until one person caves and says the words.  The funny thing about this phenomena is that in most cases the whole phase is silly–because, really, once it’s all out there in the open both people win.  It’s a useless war of common interests.

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3am microphone check

Rest easy

I fall in only to fall out again

to open my eyes and adjust to the false light

the false hope

the possibility that you care

 

Rest easy

my thoughts circulate only around you

my life

circulates, you are everywhere

in print, in color, in black & white

 

Rest easy

take this shape we call feeling

I’ve wrung it of the last drops

for you

do you carry the weight?

 

Rest easy

I’m somewhere between

hurt and angry

scrounging for tears, indulge

initiate the numb

 

Reset.

honesty

In my last in-depth post I discussed love.  This will be a continuation of that post for what I am planning to be a three-part series of posts focusing on love, honesty and instinct.

Honesty.  In the grand scheme of life and relationships, honesty has extremely high value.  Honesty allows us to learn about one another and ourselves through sharing, support one another, and get some of that hidden information into the ‘arena’ (see Johari Window ) to allow us to build relationships.  Honesty is that shiny little charm that gets lost in  the pocket rubbish that makes up the ‘games’ we often find ourselves playing in relationships–the pocket being the relationship (where did this metaphor come from?).  I’m in my early thirties now and over the last handful of years I’ve tired of these games.  What’s the point of them anyway?  It all goes back to protecting ourselves by not giving away too much.  But really, in the end it’s all a waste of time and energy–whatever will be, will be [que sera]; and sometimes whatever would have been you’ve ruined because of your stupid pocket-rubbish games. Continue reading

love

Love for another is a funny thing, in that it’s usually not funny at all.  It shows up in places we don’t always expect and latches itself to others we don’t particularly choose.  It’s stimulating, delicious, ethereal when it’s returned to us; bruising, heavy, viscous when it isn’t returned; and it’s deep, branding, and beautiful in both cases.  We’ve likely all had our share of both and carry around the markings left behind by them.

Love of family is one thing–generally lifelong and solid, but often messy because we must learn to love one another the right way while already loving.  However, if you’re lucky enough to experience such familial love, you also know that it is never enough and each of us continue to look outside of ourselves and our family to make a connection to someone else.  An outsider, a stranger who will grow a love for you that is as close to unconditional as the feeling allows; to become your adoptive family, to care for, appreciate, and understand you in ways family never could.  This is the love I continuously ponder.  This is the love I search for in others near and far.  This is the love I’m unsure that I trust.

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