I reckon I’m like a high density type of glass;
A couple of hits don’t faze me,
yet I seem to store that impact until a time comes when cracks form on my physique, the cracks turn into major tributaries feeding the mouth of a river…that river is my anger, my pains that have been growing like mold on spoiled milk…I am the spoiled milk.

Trust me when I say I have your best interests at heart, I’m constantly taking blow after blow in the background whilst your sorry ass is frolicking with needles prickling at your feet, you haven’t been stabbed yet…karma hasn’t hit you yet; she’s almost there…not too long, and when she finally introduces herself you’ll run in my direction, will I take you in my arms? Or will I turn away because you’ve always cried wolf, and each time I believed you; never learning from my faults, I guess they’ve become my driving force.

Hush now my heart, I see how she’s like fire…I’m like fire too. Do you like dangling off the edge of a cliff; knowing that at any moment your grip could fail and you’d mimic the movements of a raindrop falling from the sky, you’d hit the ground and fall apart or do you seek solace in the fact that I’m stupid enough to wait for you to fall into my arms; spread out like I’m calling the rain…like I’m calling to you.

I’m sorry for being me, I’m sorry for being so soft and curvy, so sweet, so round, so beautiful yet so distantly yours; I can’t touch you anymore…I want to, but my heart is torn. You know how we do this, it’s like our unspoken routine; your hot in the winter and warm in the summer, I’m hot and cold and a little bit of both whenever I’m met with your aura. I wish it was always winter because sometimes all I need is your heat to tame my uncertainty.

You’re pure, yet so tainted by your own evils, but I feel as though I’m always going to be here; your holy water, ready to cleanse you no matter how much it takes from my own purity.

There are times when I’ll wake up bright and early, ready to take on the world with nothing but my will to live, and there are times where my body won’t move from that bed; the one that has been my refuge, the one that whispers to my soul ‘the world doesn’t need you to rise for it to go round‘, the one that holds my tears and fears and dreams and every hope unspoken but yearned through my slumber filled thoughts.

There are times when I’ll walk through the crowds, shoulders back, head held high and that ‘boss lady’ look plastered on my face, while there are times when the mere thought of being around people sickens me, my knees go weak, my head spins and my whole being is weighed down by the constant fear of making a complete fool of myself.

There are times where I laugh and go with the flow of happiness where I am one with the world; loving deeply and unapologetically, while there are times when all I want to do is hide from the world and cry till the rivers run dry, when every malicious thought merges into one entity that feeds on my sorrow as I dive in deeper and deeper into the pools of my despair…such despair.

There are times when my high is above the universe, where nothing else matters except the things that give me inner peace; God, the trees, music, love…the thought of being in love. Other times my lows dominate my soul; I can’t feel the beauty around me, I can’t see the sun shining down on me, I can’t feel the warmth associated with tranquility of mind and the favour that’s always above me.

There are times when I seek a version of myself that isn’t plagued with the overbearing entity that is anxiety, when I seek a version of myself that has the power to disregard that voice that speaks negativity on everything i’m yet to do. However i’m stuck in a time where I’ve resigned myself to the inconsiderate grasp of disquietude. I am one with anxiety and anxiety doesn’t wan’t to let go of me!

Hello,

I reckon I’ve taken enough time off from this blog. I’ve been putting it at the back of my mind for quite some time… not feeling appeased by the content my mind deemed worthy enough for the public.

I journeyed far far away to a place that smelt like fabric softener, a worn out place that still held a beauty so divine.

I’ve been battling war, upon war, upon war with myself; trying to mediate with the constant wheels rolling through my mind, and sometimes my heart. Each time I unravel, a new diffidence begins to unwind from the creases of past fears I’d thought were long forgotten.

I am a remnant of something that once was and a premonition of something that is to come. I’ve merged time into one little sphere of hope and dreams; each fragment existing as the other and as itself as a whole…does that make sense?.

I think I rush through my brain sometimes, its become a race track and I’ve burnt the wheels of the car that is my strength, my willpower seems to lack, cause each bend represents the turning point to a finish line and the start of another marathon alike.

I write a lot about my thoughts; its where the real magic happens. when I’m lost in such a place I stare into the far distance, acknowledging the nature around me and swaying to melodies in my head. I resonate with the vibrations that speak to my soul, the beauty of simplicity unknown, but once you detach your person from the world, you become a part of an oblivion that feels familiar, an oblivion that feels like home.

I often wonder about you, a carefree soul you would have been, throwing caution to the wind and planting seed upon seed hopeful, yet certain your toil will amount to something.

You’d take your heart in your hands like you always did in your younger years -when Lion King was the only thing deserving of your tears- and offer it willingly to the one who hears and never steers clear of your fears but holds you near and whispers ‘your soul is deserving of my love my dear’.

You’d swallow your pride, and let your feelings guide you into a life where your happiness matters more, as opposed to when you hide it inside. Ride the waves high, get lost on cloud nine as time becomes a mere constraint of the mind.

You’re in love with your shine, even though it’s meant to be mine.

But no, I suppose I’m a selfish person for taking that away from you. You say I’m not to blame ‘he’s the one who made us this way’. I was exposed to our past; a defining past that existed before we came to be and instead of leaving it in peace I had to take you down with me.

I yearn for you to be free, without the burden that is me. You’d accomplish our dreams so flawlessly without having my negativity in it’s stead. But I Reckon you’ve come to accept why it can’t be that way; the baggage of our past has bound us together and made me the superior mast.

I Reckon you’ve had that feeling of not being yourself. You feel as though you’re a you whose an onlooker to another you that isn’t you ( I hope you understood that, its the way my mind phrased it).

Maybe you and I share this feeling.

Sometimes my soul withdraws itself from my physical body…not in the astral projection sense but in a way much less esoteric. During these times I become numb in a way, i’m left with my thoughts and feelings while my body sits limply against a wall. I watch how utterly miserable my body seems without a soul bound to it and then I begin to travel my mind.

I think about a lot of things, most of them don’t even need attention because they’re simply meaningless. For example, I think about how I was a book thief in my younger years and how I’d love to make a cupcake in a mug. Aside from that, I think about myself, the body that I observe and the soul that I am.

I think of how my soul calls out to me everytime, warning me of the dangers that life holds for me but also making known the fact that there’s something I need to do in this life, something way bigger than myself. My soul speaks of great things while my body is in a reccuring state of decline and revival.

My body and my soul will never be the same, I feel how strongly they respect each other yet they still oppose each other, I am my soul whilst my body is another me that isn’t me.