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.

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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.

Continue reading