In wonderment

Have you ever thought of the essence of humanity.? What is that quality that makes us so unique.

 I am sure there are multiple answers to every question, at least the philosophical ones, but what is your answer?

For the longest time I was under the misconception that my answer was love. Love is the essence of humanity. It is our never ending want or our primal need to feel loved and to love someone back. Sounds about right. Love is beautiful, there is no other feeling in the world that satisfies that. The complete and utter satisfaction that emanates from your soul almost.
 I'm starting to think its expectation, or an amalgamation of hope and expectation. We are extremely resilient, more so than we ever give ourselves credit for. We get right back up, take another step and nothing can stop us once we do. What I am trying to get to, is, how is our ability to hope, fueled? Its by expectation, of others, of ourselves, of society, pretty much everyone around us. We put an immense burden of expectation on ourselves and everyone around us.

Sometimes it fuels hope. Often times it doesn't. Why do we expect?

Love, before and after.

He sees her,
before she even knew him.

His eyes,
are like laser beams seeing through her.
Every inch of her.

Scanning,
knowing,
absorbing.
He loves her,
before she even knows what love really is.

His heart is so open she tests the space with every curse she throws at him,
testing him,
trying to move him,
further and further away from her.

He pulls her back.
Like an elastic band snapping on your skin.
He refuses to believe her.

Screaming,
Yelling,
Criticizing,
Every little part of him.
They bounce off him.
Like little kids on a trampoline.

That is what her words are to him,
kids
on a trampoline.

Small,
Childlike,
Innocent.



His hair so beautiful, so brown.
She runs her hand through them, not understanding how her heart can be so heavy and full.
So full,
of him.

His face burned so deep, she doesn't even need to close her eyes to look at him.
He's there,
He's always there.

An arms length,
a word,
a breath away.

Always there, he knows her like he knows the inside of his own mind. Her soul lays bare  to him.
She is open, finally, just like him.




Love is  mirage, It doesn't really exist. It gives you the illusion of being free,
Satisfied,
Complete.

Yet you are living in absolute dependency.

You can't breathe,
as if your lungs are dwelling in your lovers body.
You can't sleep,
Your muscles are no longer controlled by you brain.
You can't eat,
Food isn't what you crave anymore.

You are a parasite, feeding your soul by another soul.

Love is like an LSD trip that wont wear off as long as your lover is close,
Taking you on journeys that peregrinate from the revelations of your hearts and minds.

No, Love is not real.
It feels like a dream,
and just like in dreams, nothing bad really ever happens.

You always wake up,
just as you're about to fall.
You are jolted,
just as the monster is about to grip you.
Just like in Love, nothing bad really ever happens.

You are just fairy tales constructed in each others minds,
You aren't real,
until,
Everything is over.
You never realize the monster living in your lover,
until,
you fall,
your trip is coming down,
wearing off.

Love is not real. Its a drug,
So conveniently disguising its elusive charms,
letting and enchanting the unsuspecting naivete living in all of our hears.

Enthralling,
affixing,
addictive,
Unrelenting.
We always want more. One taste just isn't enough.

Hello's and Goodbye's, all in a days work.

Today, I met a friend I hadn't met in six years. We didn't meet, speak, or even Facebook since the last three of the six years, no, not even Skype. Six years is a long time. He was in another country, living a different life, one that was very different from the one we knew each other in. We were a group of kids who knew each other since we were about 12 until our late teens, and then, life happened. As it usually does.

Its not like I was particularly close to this friend, we were as close as 2 people in a group can get. Yeah, we had inside jokes, LOTS of stories, but nothing that made our bond any stronger than the others. Yet, when you meet a friend who knew you when you were another version of yourself, before life happened to either one of you, before you become a person that now knows that we are made of 70% water because EVERYTHING in life is fluid, you feel a kind of joy that only good memories and sweet nostalgia can bring.

I am like a turtle. I constantly have a hard shell to protect the vulnerability that I hold ever so close. I do not let people in easy, but once they're in, I don't let them go. I have, time and again, caught myself, ever so subtly, living in my mind, rather than in my world. Off wandering in the meandering visuals that my consciousness can think up, and in these moments, I am always thinking of those people I hold close.

I like to believe they know who they are, after all, there are only a handful. I love easily. Although, I can not for the life of me understand how to express it effectively. Let this be a testimonial, to all those who are my near, dear, close, treasured and forever living in my heart. I might not keep in touch, I might not call you. Just know, I think of you, in times when I escape the world, to go live in my thoughts, just for a moment. You are the ones that decorate my happy place.

I am saying Goodbye, albeit just for a while, to another such friend tomorrow. Life is funny, re-unions and goodbyes must come together.


Sometimes, when I feel enlightened by my own insights, I curse at my lack of ability to emotionally express my self in person. I feel close to these people, but they don't know it. I think they do though. Sometimes actions speak louder than words, but feelings are felt the loudest. Vibes, resonate. Its pure energy.

Zen

People who know me personally, have often heard me saying this word. It has become my own version of 'self actualization'.

I have a habit of just writing down heavy thoughts whenever I feel them, and more often then not the only thing I have with me is my phone. I have started carrying a little notebook with me wherever I go, but I am a little shy and I feel pretentious when I whip it out and write in it. I guess we can blame technology for that.

So, this is one of those moments.


There are times of perfect serenity, when you accept, just for the moment, that the world is what it is and you are whatever you are. Small, but not insignificant, or even the trials and tribulations you went through don't seem so massive. Those are the moments that catch you SO off guard and make you realize that maybe, you are 'living it right' and sometimes doing the best you can, is in fact, enough. Its easy to believe all the criticism all the negative feedback in a heartbeat. The important thing is to let them go.

I've started a new 'thing' and I've grown to like it very much. I don't remember where exactly I read it, but fortunately for me I did. Every morning just as I wake up, before I jump out of bed or even begin to think  I'm late, or start going over all the things I have to do that day.  I take a few minutes, I stop, smile and I tell myself what a great day its going to be and how im going to get everything done, and done impeccably. It sounds like a giant cliche, I know, I am aware. Try it. Dont even sit up, do it while ur head is still on your pillow. Im not going to say it changed my life or anything, but it did make a difference, especially to those days where I woke up on the wrong side of my pillow.

War and Peace

I have been down in the dumps,

in the trenches of life.

I've returned with scars,with tell-tale signs.

I grew stronger,

 with every blow to my soul.

I'm back on call,

deployed.

Make good art.

What I love about writing is that innate voice that you hear in your mind whilst you're reading someones work. You can almost immediately hear this person. You can hear their style,their emotions,their mood when they wrote that certain thing. That, in my mind is someone who is successful.They managed to come across exactly how they wanted to,without actually being present physically.That, is what i hope to do. I want my voice out there.I want to be heard.

Viva la revolution

It is no coincidence that time and again I've been hearing the phrase "We are the middle generation". What exactly does that embody? We have to only switch on a news channel or read a newspaper or even a magazine these days to realize times are changing. What is your personal revolution though?What are you fighting for?

I had an interesting discussion,rather,a debate with my brother today,while he was helping me do the dishes. I don't even know how this conversation arose but we ended up debating the conventional roles of each gender and what "our" culture expects of it. This happens to be a regular on the lists of topics to debate over,at least in my home.Its something I've been told I'm doing since I was little.Well anyway,I thought I was going to "win" this little debate of ours,when I had an epiphany. To be honest my brothers' words lead me to this epiphany. He said I came across as someone that hates to be a woman. Someone who believes that she has been dealt a shitty hand,I was just about to retaliate when I realised,hes right. I had read somewhere that you have to pay close attention to how  people closest to you,see you,because this is possibly how you are portraying yourself. You might not mean it,but you're definitely coming across as that. I was taken aback. I thought about it for a second and it dawned on me,I love being who I am. I am proud of my gender.Now I know I'm going about this all wrong.In order to make a change,I must not fight it,I have to mirror it..

What is my revolution? Being myself in a world full of confusing and twisted agendas.Knowing that I know whats best for me.Doing what makes me happy,making a small,tiny,pathway in my "culture"  where one did not exist before.My revolution is an undomesticated woman.