It happens while I least expect it, when I hit my solid state. It happens as I start believing that that dark maze was my forever home. It happens as I am naked and neglected, mistaking myself for a less than magic being.
Confused and bent, I thought I wasn’t going to stand tall again.
One crack at a time I hear bones mending, and veins connecting and intersecting. I suddenly stand, feet to the floor, a thrust of muscles zapping strength up my skeleton and a charge into my heart. It beats and I am myself again. It beats and I am no longer a failure; no longer beaten down. It beats and I am above the toxic city again. It beats my body into fire and crystal. My mind sets itself aflame and lights take me again. I thought I wasn’t able but I am. I thought I was numb but sedation subsides; yet I remain.
I remain after the storms and the earthquakes. I remain under rocks and inside oceans. I remain even when I want to disappear. I am invincible even when I think myself invisible. I am strong beyond my need.
Only when I almost destroyed myself and my surroundings did I feel the spark. Only when I believed in nothing at all but myself did I remember how it felt to be in love. Only when I closed all portals outside of my self and looked within did I trip over my very own core; my heart. Only when I stopped struggling, I found myself afloat.
I am not mad, I am not stuck. I am not down and I am never soluble. I do not melt and I do not fear this world. I am not slacking anymore. There is only me and my might right here, there is everything I am yet to become; there is this day and this moment. There is the magic and the human, there is the surreal and the fact. There I am again; taking what’s my own.
I am without myself almost every day. I walk towards and away from this, all at once. My steps are noise blanketing the quietness of a harmless emptiness I carry everywhere. Still and firm, faith washes ashore my disbelieving skin. I am impossible to water; my thirst is yet to be quenched.
Music to my vulnerable ears eases in and finds solace in a hollow corner I sometimes mistake for a soul. And in that corner, love grows it becomes humiliatingly filling.
I find myself awake at hours of the night unmistakably silent and anticipating. I find pieces of myself stranded in the dark and I rarely reach out and grab them anymore. The pursuit of definition as I have come to believe, is a sterile one. I am without myself after all.
My mindfulness is as elusive as my sleep. Come night time and an overwhelming dosage of anxiety rests it’s head on my chest. I am left weighed down by nothing and everything to ever exist. So I press my head deeper into the pillow and I drown myself in infinite thought. My breath softens and my words lose courage every time I come up for clarity. What does one do with finite nights and infinite possibility? How does one choose a single path, one life to account for an unbiased immeasurable existence? In that matter, there is one finite answer: I do not know.
I trust so little the aptitude of humans. I find it unconventional to stick to one belief every day. I shiver facing an ironic reality that change is necessary and inevitable. Change in all it’s forms is as terrifying as it is magnificent. I love with every regenerating cell in me the continuity of change. But I loathe how things never remain the same.
Walking on a tight rope, I challenge myself to not expect anything to lean on. I choose everyday to lose faith in my surroundings and detach myself from the illusion of eternity. I live each day reminding myself that I myself am a walking breathing example of entropy.
But I am a hypocrite.
I leap at any hint of divinity. I am spellbound by beauty and it’s repetition across the ages. I savor moments as rare as they come as though I caught infinity while it wasn’t looking. I fall uncontrollably in love and I allow myself the pleasure of delusion.
From where I am, whether I fall or stand tall; there really is no difference. From where I am, I live in many worlds. In some I care, in others I don’t. The fault in my brain is mended in the form of a heart. Maybe a balance exists linking and pushing my worlds apart. I carry it all with me, and I lay still on my back. I am miles away alone flaring a single match in the dark.
Maybe when you see that, your universe will finally have its light.
In a valley deep between two huge mountains i stand, wide eyed and embarrassingly caught in the middle. They look down and they meet at the tips of my feet, i am insignificant. They are mountains their understanding of fragility is ancient and forgotten.
In a valley so deep, i stand, i crawl and i scratch out my flaws. I am hard at work but i am no mountain after all, i doubt i can ever be. The pressure of greatness keeps the valley down and only makes the mountains seem higher above.
A defeated person, inhibited from the inside and pressured from the outside can only take so much; a collapse is to be anticipated. I love collapse; freeing, truthful, and inevitable. Collapse is the truest form of expression, nothing is held back, nothing remains inside. You collapse to see yourself and your life as it really is. No more lies, no more pretending, nothing but the revelation of your insides to yourself and everyone around you. There is no shame in collapse. Even mountains collapse.
So collapse my dear, the excitement is excruciating and exhausting.
I dreamt about you the other night, it was almost real. Then i woke up and i realized even though i felt you in my mind, we were still on opposite sides of this world, in different time zones. I then closed my eyes to see you again and i did. You always said our unconscious is incredible; you were right.
Im imagining you reading this now, and its funny because you always complimented my writing even when it was terrible. I think it was your way of encouraging me to express my timid self.
I have so much faith in you, maybe the strongest belief springing from my core is in you. Nothing bigger than you in this world and nothing simpler. You encompass what life was, is and ought to be. Its insane because how can i ever come to know myself seperated from you when you are my source; my genuine soulmate.
I just want to tell you that you trained me well. You did your best and while you juggled being my mother and my best friend you somehow created me all over again everyday.
Everytime i catch myself feeling lonesome or down i remember how you would brush your shoulders off and tell me this is what we do. Then we pick ourselves up because we are that strong.
I know you have your pains and your struggles, just like every artist out there. Except, you are more youthful than you know, more beautiful than you admit, and more brilliant than you think. Your joy is my own and your pain is mine too. I will never stop pushing you, i will never walk out on you, because this is what we are all about.
I am so proud of you, when your strong and when your weak. You are my biggest truth.
So, yes as predictable as i am, this is how i try to make up for the distance.
I love you mom, thats what i’ve been trying to say:)
Under so many skies and genuine timelessness, existed a place on this earth. Fairytales and unicorns had never been there, neither had good music or pretty faces. It was burnt to the ground and nothing lived there. It dressed its death with white and colored its ugliness pink. The oil amongst that land was named water and the idiots who had given up their minds to that nothingness were called people.
That tiny spot painted its lands green when ash was the center of it all. Against that green, other colors looked better and so that place gained beauty and fame. That place choked on the inside but pretended that skies were naturally blue. That place got thicker and denser, yet the filth always seemed to seep through the fake moulds created.
The pretty faces were not real, the men were void of the truth and of honor, and the minds of both genders melted into extremes of dullness or pride. All the real information was drowned and out came the stupid quotes and the tarnished banners of love and respect for that place.
Then came the people who served a great power named God and they told the dim minded what to think about everything. They said different things to different people, when the main message was all the same. They promised those boys and girls the greatest worldly pleasures and they swore on their lives. Somehow it all made sense, only because they never really understood and they presumed that the others did.
Their pride then played itself out when they went on fighting who understood best. Many believed in what they fought for, they hoped that God knows their intentions and they died for him, leaving behind the greatest stories ever told. Except, God was claimed to have been in every story, and he supported each group for their worldly gains. Each group said that God was theirs’ and on their side.
There, came a voice asking. Simply and not rhetorically. Is God on everyone’s side? How is that possible? Then who are the enemies? Does God enjoy experiments ? Does God laugh at one group and with another? Wait, wait..WAIT. Who is lying here?
Everyone suddenly broke into silence, and instead of finding answers to all those questions, they laughed and stabbed the voice quiet. And then said, God is with us.
After fighting for a very long time, those dim minded people decided that they needed to talk and work things out. The biggest and strongest, the richest and most victorious discussed and cut up the lands on earth. They decided who takes what, but did not give their word, they kept all options open and invented a game called diplomacy.
And time passed then ended and passed again then ended, consistently time lapsed. The idiots who had become people, dressed better and talked better, they learned in schools and expensive universities. Others had poor lives and barely lived to be middle aged people. Yet they all believed in God, each in their own way. And until today, The truth rarely gets mentioned and that old voice barely gets heard.
None of those people considered that that voice, was God himself. He had rested his silence but they refused to listen, they killed that voice and played on their own. They spoke on behalf of God and it was never going to end. Not now not ever, because eventually and essentially, that land had always been empty and shredded apart. The skies were only bright when creatures were true to their existence and mortality. Pride ate the heads of the idiots and they really thought they controlled everything. They thought they knew.