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Still Filtered

Filter and control are marvelous things that can make you lost in your own mind like no other.

Introspection on what I have thus far written has recently made me realize how filtered all my writings are, how fluffy. Even in madness, I need to find a beauty, a rhyme, a metaphor that makes all the ugly go away and only touches the monstrous rearing head of those negative feelings that lie beneath the surface.  An old friend once told me you’re too controlled, your writing is like you: beautiful, witty but guarded-avoiding what really bugs you, afraid to let people know the side of you that’s not always sunshine and roses, to let them see there’s a human behind the smiling imp. A human that feels things probably more than most.  I didn’t understand him then but now I do. Life IS gritty and while we can control emotions we can’t control our situations or avoid them forever.

And sometimes we can’t control our situations OR our emotions. But it’s always a scary thing, trying to open up and feel, trying not to avoid, trying to let people know you feel so intensely because it takes away a power. A lonely power that eats at you, but a power nonetheless. Honestly, if anyone’s reading this, there is no end to this rant-no summation that ties my thoughts up in a nice bow- it’s an errant collection of thought accumulating to a bunch of sentences I write here. Mostly because right now my thoughts are all over the place, some metamorphosing as I write.

At this point, I don’t know how to go from here from fluffy to reality but acknowledgement is the first step right?

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A Letter to You, from Myself

Dear you,

So I have decided to make changes in my life and I have decided these changes have nothing to do with you. Why? Because if they did then I would have to deal with bigger things than changing my tiny leather couch which forces me to lie in a bent position or moving the hanging bookcase from atop my bed so as to avoid gravity’s ire. These are rational changes stemming from a desire to better one’s standard of living not from an irrational fear of potential embarrassment that you will see my sparsely decorated pad and judge. These are not the decisions of a woman who has found out you are coming back in town. They truly are not. And if you have-in the off-chance- heard I have renewed my gym membership AND began to hum in the office, that’s not about you either okay? I never canceled my membership to begin with… I just thought it’s time I start going again, AND the humming is inconsequential as it IS the holidays. It’s got nothing to do with you. Also, haven’t you been going to the gym all this time to, in someway, illicit a reaction from me? Were you not annoyed last time when I didn’t react? So there. At least this mess is making us healthier and helping to make better life choices.  Cheers to silver linings.

Sincerely,

In Denial and Renovating

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Promise

Lately I feel like I am in a bubble

One that I created by myself

And I don’t know why.

What am I running from?

Who am I punishing?

Why am I putting myself in situations

Where I feel less than?

Why am I isolating myself to a point

Of no return, letting go of relationships

I hold dear and then hating myself for it

What’s with the stupid punishment?

Let’s take an oath to love ourselves,

The way the people around us do

Because if you and I can’t love ourselves

All that’s in the world is time passing by

And us waiting for the day

When time starts to slow

And we regret all the time we spent putting ourselves down

While we should have been bring ourselves up.

 

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Cages

What they don’t tell you about the process of metamorphosis is that it is never easy , you’re constantly trying to break out of your cage all the while trying to stay safely tucked in it. From the mother’s womb and beyond, we are in a constant state of trying to break free and become humans. Granted, some do a better job than others (although how do we determine the quality of someone’s humanity when it opens up the can of worms aptly titled objective versus subjective ‘facts’), we all partake that journey- hopping from one cocoon to the next until we reach our graves, back to the womb of the Mother (Earth). Metamorphosis of the physical is irrelevant as we are born from a womb and at the end of the days we are returned to another- that of the planet. It is the metamorphosis of the mind that profoundly changes: from the moment we take our first breath of air to the moment we take our last. The cages we live in are within our own minds and to get out of them is never easy.

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The Truth About Forever

The Truth about Forever,

Do you really want to know?

I can tell you, if you want

But then I have to

Let go.

 

What’s forever? Does it exist?

Will we ever know?

I can tell you what I think,

But I have

No evidence to show.

 

Forever is a word, a concept,

A time.

Forever, for me, it’s not worth­­

A dime.

 

Even if we live forever,

What will that do?

If we live, you and I

Not, me and you.

 

Forever, forever,

I will never complain,

If today we live happy,

And tomorrow

We remain.

 

The truth about Forever

Is that it’s a lie,

Because in the end

All things are meant

To die.