I'm for truth, no matter who tells it. I'm for justice, no matter who it is for or against. I'm a human being first and foremost, and as such I'm for whoever and whatever benefits humanity as a whole. ~ Malcom X
The feeling of smoldering lava, caught up between the chest and throat. A tension of the wrist as i lay down my pen and stare at the paper before me. Long have i sought to express all that is within, always taken back by the mellow conversations in my head. "There is wisdom in the tummy", screamed the shaman, but i notice the world turning it's back, starving him and earth's mystical nutrients of sustenance.
There is something wrong here, this dream. This dream is confusing and stifling. Melancholic is the mood as i see all the faceless eyes of today. No helm but a ditch. A sad abyss of failed dreams and the deluge of conscripted slaves streaming out from under the school yard and class halls. So many own mirrors but do not see past the sexist nature of primal needs. No view to the inner desires just the plain exterior they try to mask and keep secret. All seeking shudders with another throughout the cold black nights.
I see journeyman lost. I watch them stray far from their sacred paths into suits and ties. The pursuit for madness in oppressed cubicles. Too many walls in this one big open space. How are you? They ask - seeking not for a truth but a sentiment of false trepidation. Stand next, shoulder to shoulder, backs to backs, millions of us. This is how we hug...
The inverted smile; even that is missing. This place, where anger is wrong, yet polite hypocritical smiles attracts praise far and wide. Keep your eye on your numbers on a screen whom only you can touch... they might take it away. The thought of death, which once was a thing of beauty, lives now in burned ashes and retirement homes. What do we do with the beings whom can teach the ancient wisdom's. Nothing, a discard for convenience and maybe, kept as obligated guilt. So few i have witness, lives with deep reverence for the aged mystics, the gate keepers for our release of this dream state.
What do we hold as sacred anymore, truly sacred? I am ashamed of my decisions and time i have spent. Another day beckons, but i know no different will be the outcome, as it is so... Hope lives in the eyes of the blind, and i see this darken room, as my eyes have adjusted to the malcontent and misery. And i see, for the second time i see....
It's often too late to reconcile, myself from the history i have left, never in any regret for anything; No - "perhaps it could be different"; nor "if i did this, everything would have been better".
Now, everything is as it should be, and it has always been as it should have been.
I remember Steve Jobs, speaking clearly on aging and being older; that one connects the dots of the seemingly in-congruent choices, radical osmosis of youthful exuberance, of near death experiences and most importantly - really stupid financial decisions. All of which accumulates and is the sum of your present perfect situation.
Looking back at my insignificant time here on earth (26 years is really a short timeline in the grand scheme of the universe) i am no different from when i started this adventure, i still cry, poop and eat... But everything else is different. I think it was Heidegger who said the eyes are the window of a Man's soul, i don't know if that is true, but when i look into the eyes of the many people I've had the privilege of coming into contact with, i see a brightness, even the dark ones who live in romantic tragedy. They all have that same glow, just like the day they were born.
People intrigue me, they always have. I remember when i was a child, i used to just sit in silence and watch people. I didn't say a word to anyone, i would just look at them. That unnerved a lot of the adults and I always wondered why. The call to question existence and everything in it, took over my life when i was in secondary school, and that kinda got me in immense trouble with the teachers. I remember losing interest in school altogether by the time i took my O'levels. I just couldn't buy the notion that numbers on a certificate, would dictate my life's direction. It seemed stupid at the time, and really,.... it still does.
A measure of a man lives is in his ability to create, not in his ability to regurgitate information. That shaped how i would lead my life. Of course i was not able to comprehend life then as i do now, but i made choices that were fascinating and enriching to me, even if it got me into trouble in this society i live in. The trouble, simply fueled my passion to philosophize further and dwell into spaces my peers never touch nor knew about.
Outcast and misunderstood, i loved my journey of solitude; the days i spent in parks by myself, not going home, but sleeping under trees were the happiest days i can remember. The vast amount of time spent on thinking and writing, were invaluable. Looking back, I could have got a job, done more school work, made more money, but spending time being a hobo taught me more, then any class or course.
Now, life is clear, my direction is paved and my visions are slowly but surely crystallizing. I've stepped on toes, broke countless promises and disappointed too many people, in this journey, and i know that hampered many things, and for that i am sorry. Cause the fear of expressing my wisdom, and relying on self will were battles i lost daily. The repercussions of which are still echoing in my life of which i embrace, surrendering to karma.
But today, i experienced the uncanny sensation of looking at my own eyes, and seeing for the first time, a child. Observing him, and a-washed of feelings of being under my favourite tree, notepad in hand, and a smile on my face. Today i died, as i will tomorrow, and the day after. No different from the day i started to the day i end.
Wonderful is, the fallen leaves ellipse of her potted clay gray skin. I stare longingly into the green, on the edge of her yellow captured wing, of; plant named werewolf. She sleeps with the song of release, in her covered mildewed pillow. I cover my hands over her gentle silk, and feel for the first time, it's texture. Cold, akin to leathery skin i hold, in my being.
It speaks, without words as her stem moves me callously towards a gentle peace. I sense its whispers, calling out Prometheus, Prometheus, Prometheus. I shudder as she weeps into the cold dry night. Nothing i can do, as she sleeps and dreams of the wilderness, playing amongst the wolves - as i catch fish in the humming stream.
Alike ulcer the god; she feeds from me, as i let my brow drip into her bowl of dissolute, salty Garth. What is left is the false Jesuit second son, righteous and magnified ab-solvent it takes all nourishment's from, moving the soul, placid with zen waters - the self, loses the self as it grows without accomplishment.
Hurried into a hove, a concave shaped misspent hove. Cylindrical like a symphony frozen at it's crescendo, the architecture exemplifies nonchalance and stuttering ambiguity. All within a smog of aura, choking me into spasms of heavy coughs. A fractal seed, drawing me into it's surrounding perceived emptiness.
Regression hits me, with dirt particles at my precipice of thought. Hypnotized and in a stasis, i plough through this egoless, energy - holarchy; bringing me to the beautiful sky in my mind, where nothing exist through an existence filled with past memories. Hard is it to smile and find that inner label of nirvanic joy. I cringe as she blooms. Her flowers seed me, flagrantly in my entropy. I burst inwardly, the implosion berates me further into nothingness.
I stand still.
She the plant, the flower, the soil, the seed, the colour, the smell, the essence, the thought, the reflection, is perfectly whole and dear. I cherish my plant. For she is werewolf, and i am the sun. Now and forever, today and tomorrow, the chain and the ball, we dance - till the end and beyond. Sweet and magnificent, she kills me with esteem joy... and i love her for it.
In the midst of the pursuit of success, to be free from our fears and just trying to survive; taking time to breathe, to center oneself amongst the chaos has been a forgotten privilege. This microcosm of lifestyles we adhere too, what ever it maybe keeps us binded and trapped. We try to hard to have others like us, so that we can have the proverbial "pat on the back" that distant "Kudos" just to be admired in someway or another.
Self power is a disillusioned entity that lives in the self-help section of the many bookstores and libraries we visit. It is already within our grasp. There is no need to reach for it, to pursue that freedom all human beings long for. It is right here, right now - that tiny voice ever so quiet, urging us to follow the deepest calling, our truest vocation. To evolve, to expand, to be truly great only in our eyes is the most courageous act. To do what you truly want takes the greatest of courage. To stare fear, to look at society's pressures and say NO, i follow the music within, i step to a different drummer none of you can touch, will be met with extreme resistance, judgement and prejudice. Especially from the people who care most about you.
This life is indeed one big struggle, to evolve, and to be free. Yet it is to be enjoyed...
So take time, if you want - to simply be still and quiet. Listen to that small voice within. Breathe and expand. and let it inspire you.
Let your drummer kick.
"Why should we be in such desperate haste to succeed, and in such desperate enterprises? If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music in which he hears, however measured, or far away."~ Henry David Thoreau
Let the drummer kick Relations Creation Incarceration Determination Equation Humiliation Reincarnation Situation Elation Identification Retaliation Education Inspiration No substitution Solution Conclusion Let the drummer kick Relations (Apollo had to break 'em) Creation (It's a gift, a blessing) Incarceration (What keeps you down) Determination (What gets you out) Equation (When they said you could make it) Humiliation (What you feel when they say it) Reincarnation (N-A-V) Situation (Why we've got to sing) Elation (So many in need) Identification (Gives you the right to shoot) Retaliation (What would it do) Education (Gives you the right to do) Inspiration (What pulls you through) No substitution (No substitute) Non-inclusion (Just got to bust through) Drug infusion (For the chosen few) Mass confusion (When they say that they died for you) Delusion (Say that the dreams don't come true) Solution (It can take a hold of you) Conclusion
Inspiration (Is what pulls you through) Let the drummer kick (Inspiration) You don't even have to wait Let the drummer kick that
~ Lyrics from "Let the drummer Kick" (Citizen Cope)
It's been quite a while since i last sat down and deliberated my life's path. The constant ventures, the moving of home and the grounding of my being in my personal growth has not dissuaded me from my callings, but has been a welcome distraction.
Now looking at the happenings in the world; even here at home, i feel drawn again to the battle; to the quintessential human struggle. Evolution has been a big word in the many realms of scientific and philosophical pursuits today, and already the esoteric's are calling this coming age (2012) the next stage of our reality - of what i truly don't know. But the cool thing is, i feel like i am part of that shift, that turnkey of which all will find it's place, and some sort of nativity will take place. (nope not in a christian sense, but of a spiritual plane that will move us internally)
My eyes take me back to that place, of despair and disillusionment. But this time, it doesn't feel personal, no anger and frustration in my core, instead a sensible calm, haha in fact a romantic sense of belonging steeps in. My wisdom has been uncovered, my tools are being sharpened and the process is leading me to the inevitable.
I remember reading a line from Ayn Rand's Fountainhead, about if any work is to be produced, it is mandatory, that is must come from within the deepest realm of the soul. "If anything is to be given, let it be your soul." A powerful resonance, that has shaped my life, recently.
So listening to a song today, (how god places great many things in my ears) i was brought back to my teenage years, the happy fight of protesting against the status quo, the rebel in me going against the grain, the questioning of formal authority and the dumb fucks that holds the system in place.
I smiled, and quietly chuckled. Naive, yet passionate. How good day's were, when we were young and stupid. :) Today however, i am back to the start, the end and beginning of that perfect circle. Wiser, mature and grounded in the realness of life's flow. More then aware of my flaws, and my pitfalls, i am complete and free...
Tomorrow is today and i am sleepy, and i know as i awake, the stirring in me will be expressed and i pray for the angels to lead me on. Cause if you really look at the world, and the behaviour of our species, you will be embarrassed and sadden by all the atrocities we have to fight and make better. Yes there are better people out there, but think about it. If we continue, or let continue what we have been doing and allowing;
I see the smiles on the screen, and i wonder if it is all real, not the disjointed reality i see. Are you really happy with all, or is that just a captured moment of fleeting bliss? Cause i see you differently, i see your anguish, i deal with your pain; so how can you smile and seem like it isn't there? The worst of each of us; somehow i know, lives in our smile.
Your eyes seem heavy, like dark pearls closed by the oyster's shell, shielding the truth. I stare into them and i get lost, the psychic maze shrouds me over and i somehow feel safe. Like the stain on a used sofa (wine remanence of a happier day, of memories of sullen faces but bright eyes) of a material so comfortable and broken in.
The antiquity of my memory, shows all the hidden pain behind all those eyes, with smiles on faces - the quiet fear, the mistaken portrait of contentment reminds me why i am here. I am that face, i am that smile, those eyes belong to me just the same. A mirror, a screen, a window; all i see is my pale shadowed reflection, screaming silently. Me with sullen face, curled down lips and that antagonized frown, but seeing with bright bliss filled eyes. I know the honor, the pride of staring at one's own soul and it staring back at me.
With that, now i know; that birth of a star, of that galaxy born within us, and i will never be the same. My breath has been taken away, so has my immortality and it's alright. I now understand what it means to be human, apart and away from my soul. That i have learned from staring into your eyes. I see your sorrow, but its okay, your smile protects you. But only with you, i can flow away.
In a small thumbnail, the size of a nail head. The smallish nature of this system, I am starting to notice my hollowness. Why I approach certain situations with pride, and reach for affection when I am rejected?
I wonder, if could it be my fear of being stood upon - my competitive reprieve? I do not have much gumption to hold myself that highly. I am nothing in comparison to many others, when a faculty is called into juxtapose.
No special place of my design.
Secluded I stand in the mean-time. The truth staring at me head on, with grotesque’s blood stained eyes- I cannot avoid. It’s my time to face up to choices of consequence I didn’t calculate. How one action/inaction affects the whole? It sits in wait… it knows I will fuck up, but my lack of expertise and knowledge/experience is a testament to my fatalistic ignorance.
I shall be so vain, helpless and in a deep addiction to covering my tracks. I am tired. I never knew, I never surfaced. My jaundice of natural wisdom, pleads a cleansing and nourishment away from a hedonistic whim. A form, a function of purity leasing me more time to move this machine into an archaical form. A new being perhaps, or the same old, with new clothes this may somehow ceases…or not.
I was browsing some sites i frequent and stumbled into an intrinsic question, which tickled my silly brain into some real activity (activity that has been stagnant for sometime now.) A harmless question that spoke and reflected my internal fears. I would like to approach the question with introspect, an added humility to my state of being. As its reality, poses a true test of character and perhaps poise of spirit.
"How many unwritten novels, unrealized campaigns, and brilliant ideas have never seen the light of day?"
A simple question; yet it probes malignantly at me, gnawing and taunting, cause it seeks a truth about our human condition, ultimately my own condition -
How many of us actually realize our dreams? How many of us, even know what our dreams are? (I have meet some people who actually don't even know how to dream.)
- we the majority fail.
Or do we?
I remember reading about "Mumia Abu Jamal" a few years ago, the ongoing struggle of the Black Man and him quoting Malcom X, "Don't be shock that i say, i have been in prison, we are still in prison". That's how i feel sometimes, this struggle; this life seems to enslave me further, the job, the relationships, the necessities of survival in this metropolitan society. It encases my spirit in a lackadaisical whim and i fold my cards, yes i fold, as it's what society expects anyway. Stop this childish dreams, focus on career, save money and settle down. Jeez... is that all that is to life?
Than i look deep within, the internal conflict of the longing of freedom and the purpose my souls calls forth - and i can't seem to find the balance between the three.
Freedom - Purpose - Responsibilities.
What a task, what a task...
I think it is a sick society we live in, where the Thais throw illegal aliens overboard to their deaths just because they have no space for refugees, dolphins are captured to provide sick entertainment, where; the powers that be, place little resources in keeping the masses educated and well informed, where to follow through on one's dream has to take a arduous path of self-sacrifice and frown upon as irresponsible.
How many unwritten novels, unrealized campaigns, and brilliant ideas have never seen the light of day?"
"Why do they always teach us that it is easy and evil to do what we want and that we need discipline to restrain ourselves. It's the hardest thing to do in the world - to do what we want. And it takes the greatest kind of courage."~ Ayn Rand
We rob ourselves and each other from living full lives...
It is our responsibility to chase our dreams, it is a right of anyone to ask for support and help as it is our duty as a society to encourage and provide the resources to make all dreams reality. Leave no man behind. To evolve, we have to shift our thinking and lifestyles completely - cause we are at the edge of destruction. We have fragmented ourselves to a point of misunderstanding, confusion and self-loathing loneliness.
It's about time, and i hope, dearly hope that with Obama leading America, change will come. But as we all know it starts with me. It is difficult, with all the repression society, friends and family provide once we begin the journey. (those who have started, this includes self-sabotage - you know what i mean) Most of my closest friends are awakened to some extent and are on the path of significant purpose and i applaud them, for all the courage, blood, sweat and tears just to have their lives turn out. All effort is with a tremendous amount of heart and bravery. But i question this.
Why does it have to be hard?
I recently read about homeostasis and it speaks about a deep seeded resolve to continue the status quo on a very primal and subconscious level. I also understand this in the context of the mind - That change is unwelcome and if so, must be in very small doses. The discrepancy of new information or environment will almost always cause a violent rejection. To quote Arthur Schopenhauer.
"All truth passes through three stages. First, it is ridiculed. Second, it is violently opposed. Third, it is accepted as being self-evident"
Therefore, change: if is not to be opposed has to come in small doses.
That brings me to me and my mortality. Being 26... a young man, with a pure heart, a clear mind and a passionate resonance of soul who seeks to uplift my own consciousness - finds beauty in the struggle. And i feel that is the point of it all, cause really there is nothing else to do....
The question, "How many unwritten novels, unrealized campaigns, and brilliant ideas have never seen the light of day?" is inconsequential. I think, a powerful question to ask is, "have i attempted pursuing and accomplishing my dreams and have i made life easier for others to pursue their own?"
"We live on front porches and swing life away We get by just fine here on minimum wage If love is a labor I'll slave 'til the end I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand."
I figure, if i were to assimilate myself totally to the social construct put forth by our plaintive society, is to seriously immerse myself into a barrel of acid. The sensibility and realistic responsibility they claim and stand upon in their hierarchical disposition, kicks me squarely on the head. The unethical and weak dealings we as a society try to squeeze from the very limits of our nature and from each other is blatantly primitive.
Couple that with the lack of our logic is frighteningly hilarious.
We kill each other --> to acquire resources---> to kill each other.
Yup, yup yup... nice isn't it.
At least the ridiculous zealots has stopped pumping religious propaganda up our asses. They don't lie about it anymore. "Give us your Love, money and youth - so that we can get more Love, money and youth. Oh and it's in the name of god... mind you." I'm surprise they haven't been able to just go to the banks and just get loans to hire Saactchi & Saactchi in designing posh ad campaigns. They already make billions in tax free donations, so why not just have them go public and float them on NASDAQ as well.
Hmm... Imagine City Harvest going IPO. You never know....
Oh don't get me started with the financial industry.... the largest manipulating religion there is.
I'm starting to think this the Financial Meltdown, is the best thing that is going to happen to the human race. Couple that with our re-approach to sustainable living and the timely appearance of civic journalism seems to bring fresh perspective and faith of the next decade. (i personally cannot wait for the 2012 prophecy just to see what happens)
Can you see, the duplicitous catastrophic helm we live in? The tone of which is absurd yet remarkably simple. Yes is No, Right is obviously Wrong and Pepsi is actually Coke with stronger food colouring. All of which is probable and the improbable simulacrum of this reality we have built for ourselves. How many times in my life have i heard, "Life is a paradox."
No you idiot, it isn't. That is the con. That is the menagerie of ignorance and assumption.
The upper echelons of human consciousness has seen and documented this. It is an illusion, our simple, narrow and egotistical minds cannot pull away from. We place so much trust in our arrogance of knowledge and understanding, so we can feel that false sense of "I am Special, I am Unique" we fail terribly in the use of our infinite wisdom, to expand and evolve.
We are but a language, a contextual fabrication of the loose meaning of reality we build in our minds. A conversation. Nothing more, nothing less.
So be like the rest, let the poor get poorer, let the hungry-starve and let the malnourished children steal bread from each other. You don't really have to give a damn. Be like everyone else, and blindly seek that magical moment for your life, where you feel satisfaction and pride, when peers pat you on your back and admire you for your intelligence and wit. Where you can finally deem yourself successful...(whilst the rest of civilization crumbles)
Peace be with you as your life is your own, but leave me and the other like minded "Idealist" you so proudly label; reinvent, revolt and redeem the honour of our species, of our heritage, of our brethren.
Mother of us all Place of our Birth We are witness To the Rape of the World. ~ Tracy Chapman.
No shadows, just snippets of peaceful dwellings. I seek to seek naught Serving as best i can and letting gravity take over. I sense no struggle - simple acceptance
There is "Nothing" to Get Always be there, this place i live in.
"If you would perfect your body, guard your mind."~ James Allen
In such notions of self beauty, a woman's mind i cannot fathom - surreal escapist leisure? Yet it affects her in profound measures; is it real - the fear or the chemical truth? Probably it makes not a sense - but of a need to self-appreciate? Replicate herself in perfection in the eyes - of flawed visions?
Clever she is, as i do not understand the masking and gripe of physical beauty. Neither will i joust and be beheaded for my intrusion into the feminist agenda.
Bifurcation of my Mind and my Body. Each a Whole and Part of the same fellow.
We are nothing more or less than Holons.
"Break away from the tyranny of custom, tradition, conventionality, and the opinions of others, until you succeed in walking lonely and erect against men."~ James Allen
A sensation brews from the unexpected. A new confusion seeks new solace. Subtle, my mind takes over. A fretful guile. Mechanized chartered suffusion.
Flow me sidewinder, Make me see, bring me to my knees. I am humble yet proud. To what is an extent to wonder - why and whom? Shall i proceed to my doom, a shattered nuance much benign? Callously i hope for less, to gain more. As quantity burdens me to retrospect with cloudless alien desires.
I want to... I want to be someone... I want to be someone's no one.
Shill, a tardy truth i hope to guild. Chained and Masochist, knowledge in misunderstanding? Joyously sharpened, these keys show me nothing new, just the same opposite of the same. Nativity of skin to flesh, akin hedonistic i swallow clouds.
The stick burns with sonic vibrations echoing reverie. I hunger for foolish epiphany, which escapes me as i am moved. Strange unknowns. When one 8 becomes two zeros....
A new rhythm emerges. It's lyrics speak close to who i am.
"I am not ashame of who I am today."
A single insight, perpetuated by guilt, stems from a moralistic judgment, somehow taken off tangent. No harm, no foul as they say. My agenda for today is the same as it has been for awhile, to step up and create the reality i want for myself. No easy task, but a grand vision nonetheless.
I stop and look, i find and i see, i breathe and i move, as i sit here and ponder an existence profound. I'm ready for the rivers to wash over me. I awake, knowing where i'm going, knowing what i have to do. No incessant hurry, no magical fuel, just a love for my people, a step a day i journey to my oblivion.
A life unified by the mind, body and spirit; the trinity of discipline impeccability i reach but do not touch. My dreams seemingly unattainable at this moment, i hunger for the need of not needing. An abundant truth scarce in nature, i bring my all.
Trusting a divine who has stop speaking cryptically, but with new urging, sending me forward to sights unseen, to realms of disproportionate frailty and a luster of passions sent by friends indeed. Spurred onwards to the now, i value my insanity, my courage under fire. Solid soliloquies of agape and eros, bemuse my heart.
Till all is done, my rest will have to wait. As i come around.
Like a confused picture, i hold my views of my life in check. All sentiments of hope is thrown out the window. I am back to where i have begun. This journey has come full circle, almost to a completion. The old replacing the old. Nothing new, except more equipped and wiser. So few understand my plight, my incessant joy of the challenge, the struggle.
Carlos Castaneda said it so brilliantly, "The spirit of a warrior is not geared to indulging and complaining, nor is it geared to winning or losing. The spirit of a warrior is geared only to struggle, and every struggle is a warrior's last battle on earth. Thus the outcome matters very little to him. In his last battle on earth a warrior lets his spirit flow free and clear. And as he wages his battle, knowing that his intent is impeccable, a warrior laughs and laughs."
My life as so far, been an endless struggle just to survive, to live and build my dreams, to have others be free and empowered, to dance and play, to be serious and corporate, to simply explore the depths of me. It never ends and i want to be someone that "Lives" not just surviving and merely existing.
But at this juncture, i feel the lowest i have ever been. Everything seems crumbling around me. This alienation is bewildering. I feel lost and confused about so many things, and my future is dark and unclear. I know what i want, but the new question which is what scares me the most, is; how do i reinvent myself to get there?
Reinventing the fabric of who i perceive myself to be. Have I been so megalomaniacal, that i forgot that i am just a space, an energy to do as i please, to create as i see fit? That i am nothing more, than my intent and the conversation in my head? Have I sought answers to questions yet defined?
Who am I? I am simply, "I am".
JUST A DROP IN THE WATER.
So i guess thats what I'm to be, do and have. 1. Explore 2. Breathe 3. Love 4. Create 5. Enjoy 6. Write 7. Bliss 8. Appreciate *Random Order*
Farewell my readers/friends. You are my everything.
"To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children...to leave the world a better place...to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.”
A strange urge grows within. A seminal truth I am not sure quite to believe. Is it a moment of clarity or deception? A smoke screen thats bright and clear but shielding me from the perfection of the abode?
I am Loved? I am Free? I am Clean? I am unloved? I am bounded? I am soiled?
Trust the Sun and the Moon. My mystic totem, hears my truth, of what is still, a contained secret kept from me.
I am tired of this reality, I am tired of me. This is not a depression, but an underlying conversation I have with myself. In all innocents, I do not know any truth, just concepts of this existence. In which it's covered depths I have barely scratched , let alone explored. This odyssey is internal and eternal.
A loss seems to be a gain sometimes. No poems here and now just honest truth. My time to just bare it all. A shock and rude awakening that always seem to plague my life. Always when I'm climbing and striving, a moment changes my path instantaneously. I remember a poem which i wrote when i was 15. A phrase that stands out in my memory.
"God you give me strength, just to have me fall, so that i will have strength to fall again."
This time round, God, she interferes with my progress. A behemoth decision for a little waywardness, can only happen for divine reasons. But I'm quick to open my crown and see what it means and what impact it has. A sadness of an idea which made so much sense. It's amazing how a moment changes everything.
What i used to love, is left behind and this chapter is closing, however it is not fully shut as yet, but its almost there. And i am loving every single moment. My awakening is unfolding before my eyes. My journey of this foundation is almost at its end. The new journey of exploring who I am is about to begin and it will be intense, beautiful and sublime.
I just need to be patient with who i am. And let it flow.
