Month: February 2018

sing me a song that come from the soles of your feet and reminds you of your boss’s favorite tie- the same one that hung him from the rafters

wear the jacket that makes you feel like a fallen angel, hidden in the hell of mortality right beside my brother’s broken heart

“Where did he go?”

watch the sunset and wish on the moon as it calls to all of the lost children staring up at the stars from their caverns of misunderstood rationalizations

hold your breath on sunny days and blow out the nectar of your mother’s sweet lies as you choke on the smoke of your grandma’s last cigarette

hear her voice and tell the man sitting next to you on the train that his father would be proud- complement his shoes

“I’m homeless.”

tell me about the summer you fell from a tree and couldn’t remember the color blue, but you knew the color of my eyes

stare at the car sitting in the parking lot-  remember when your mom had the exact same one, and you lost her favorite amethyst ring inside its heart for a year

“Just don’t drop it.”

you dropped it and her heart, losing both to your inability to hold tight to what means the most to you- was it on purpose?

ask your father why he doesn’t love you like he loves the amber in his cup, stop crying when after all these years his answer never changes:

“It doesn’t disappoint me.”

did your mother realize what she was saying when she told you to leave?  you came back- she never asked you to.

throw up the words you didn’t say when you had the chance, it’s too late, they don’t care anymore

“Neither should you.”

 

I wrote this while listening to a song titled “Rope” by DED, and it includes the line, “I’m not afraid of you, I’m afraid of what I might do.” This made me realize that I feel the exact same way for people in my life.

It’s always been difficult for me to make new friends or converse with people I have not known for a number of years, and I used to tell myself that was because I was terrified of other people. But I realize now that the real truth is that I was scared to get closer to people and open up to them and do something stupid like – I don’t know – trusting them? Letting them in and telling them everything about me and getting attached as I have found that I always seem to do? I’m afraid of what I may or may not do to those people I have grown close to because I have realized from past experiences that things are bound to go wrong at some point, and the end is usually not too far from the downfall. I’m scared of getting too close and being absolutely devastated when they decide to move on – of attaching my rope to them, only to have them tear it to shreds before the knot is completely tied. I always thought that I was afraid of them, but as it turns out, I’m afraid of the possibility of being deeply affected by their leaving my side – of over-reacting to a simple turn of their backs and wave of the hands.

I am terrified of people leaving me. Terrified of eating meals alone and being deprived of human interaction, which takes about a day to occur in my mind. If someone does not want to speak to me or spend just a millisecond of their time with me, then I immediately feel as though I have done something wrong to upset them and that I should try and figure out what it was that I did to try and make it better because I absolutely hate having people I care for not care for me in return. I always feel over-attached and as though my emotions are simply far too much that any other person would be willing to withstand.

Over the last couple of months, I have been on a roller-coaster of believing things are getting better and deciding they are only getting worse. I thought coming here would give me new friends, new opportunities to branch outside of the shell I have been hiding in for the last five years of my life. And it did exactly that for a bit. I was becoming part of a small group of people I was content with. But then, something happened – as usual, right? – and being the new addition, I began to feel as though I was being cast out. And honestly, it’s getting to the point where I’m not too sure what I can do anymore and so I just decide that staying away is best. So that’s what I’m doing.

Assuming that god is real, I think his biggest mistake was creating Satan.

We see god as  the light side and the devil as the dark,

therefore they are truly opposite which makes them truly equal.

Paradise is not always enough for people to give up their ways.

If you want someone to do what you want, you have to put consequences to their actions.

Majority of the Christians I have asked about why they practice Christianity they reply with something like “just incase He’s real”

and I know that He is not God.

Their faith is nothing more than a safety net.

But then again how can the devil even exist?

My parent’s church teaches that god is not a man in the sky.

God is what connects everyone and everything,

God is love.

God is what makes up everything,

which makes sense if god has been there even when there was nothing,

for what else would we be made of if not god?

If god is love then love is everything.

how could we get anything else but love?

how can there be hate when everything else is love?

where would it come from?

how could the devil exist in such a place?

how can you get vanilla from chocolate?

You can’t.

then how?

illusion.

where?

our ego mind.

what?

we are individualized expressions of god.we have to learn how to get back to him.

why would we be separated in the first place?

why?

why?

why?

what is it we are supposed to learn?

what is the point?

what is the point in being someone I’m not for someone who might not exist?

what is the point in making life choices for another life I may not even get?

 

 

 

 

deep blue // arcade fire

i’ve always loved looking at the sky. whether it was bright and full of clouds or dark and starry-eyed, i loved staring at it. my skies never needed clouds or stars to catch my attention.

i’ve never really figured out what i love so much about staring at the sky, even when there’s nothing in it to stare at. maybe i just love the expansiveness of it, how unending the blue sheets that encase us in our earthy bed really are.

maybe i love looking up and seeing nothing and everything at the same time. one little pinpoint in the sky could be a straight shot to the center of the universe–if there even is one. i can never imagine just how much is out there that we’ve yet to explore, but sometimes i like to try.

most nights when my family would be driving home from a play or a rehearsal or something else, all i could see when i looked up was deep blue. too many headlights on interstates or streetlights in neighborhoods for a star to be seen. but when we got home, when our car crept up into our driveway and i opened my door to go inside, i could see stars.

one good thing about small towns: the lights are never on when you want to look at stars.

i’ve always been able to look above my house and see orion. a stereotypical constellation, but one i love all the same. the first thing i do when getting out of the car after a long drive is look up. i can look up and see those three little stars that make his belt and know that i’m home.

there’s just something about the sky and the stars that inspires something paradoxical in me. they make me feel so alone and small on this little rock, but they also make me feel like we can’t possibly be alone.

when you look up and see stars that burned out eons ago, watching ghosts as they poke little white holes in blue sheets, everything you do almost feels insignificant. the universe is bigger than you or i could ever even fathom, even though all i can see of it from where i stand in my driveway is deep blue.

maybe in all of my isolation, in the suburbia that never found purchase in my veins, i found solace in the sky. i found solace in looking up at those little white holes, at orion’s belt that greeted me above my house every night without fail for seven years. maybe i felt alone at home, but i look at those stars that could be suns for planets we haven’t seen yet and don’t feel quite so lonely anymore.

i can look up and wonder what aliens see our sun and wonder if some faraway planets orbit it as they do their own sun. i can even wonder if my friends are staring at the same stars i am, and the loneliness i feel in daylight subsides.

i guess i find comfort in knowing that we share the same sky.