I shed tears for my 12 year old self that didn’t wake up till she was 23.
I find it strange that I have full awareness and yet just a moment later I can be profoundly lost.
It’s like a wave of dumbfounding amnesia glazes over my mind and I lose all insight to what it is I need to do in life to achieve my goals.
Yet, there are moments of such clarity that if I could only hold onto them long enough I’d be exactly where I’ve always achieved to be.
Is this a form of the mental Illeness that have swept our world or am just dellusionary hopeful that my mind has the ability to process the path my life is on and for some bleak moments I’m able to see where and what direction my actions and experiences are heading?
I honestly believe it’s the latter only because I’m the ultimate observer to my life and I’ve seen the change within as well as my surroundings
Now if I can only focus long enough on the path when it becomes clear and have enough strength to proceed when it blurs away to continue on it then maybe, just maybe the achievable will be achieved.
Where’s my talent and where do I fit in?
The way my brain circulates the universe at lightening speed I get exhausted by trying to host a conversation with a stranger.
I ponder the purpose of my thoughts and talk to the stars as if they are devine beings that are helping me to ponder the results of my days as well.
I see friends as aquantances when they try their best to assist occuping the time I spend on this planet.
My feet seem planted but I’m flying past Jupiter wondering how a planet of gas can possibly be so big (what’s the temperature around Jupiter always?).
I yearn to make money so I don’t have to work yet I can’t seem to figure out where to place my talents to fit into this “corporate” world. I’m also to scared to screw the 9-5 and work for my own will.
The bed seems so comfortable and the internet seems so intriguing – mindlessly I search for answers to questions I haven’t thought of yet.
My brain doesn’t stop – even in my sleep I’m swept away in bright colors and realatisc visions that would scare the average soul. I use to be able to see the future until I saw my mother leave and she indeed did a few years later.
I heard my named called by an unknown source once and I’ve been searching for that beautiful hyme ever since.
It’s taught me how human I am.
I sit on a park bench staring at the world and I wonder – is this life just a long love story.
How much the world love us and the pain we provide it.
How much we love each other and the pain we give each other.
How much we yearn to understand the experiences we have and the ignorance we give the miracles.
I’m staring at the world on a park bench… there are so many colors, smells, the breeze is cool and sways me.
I’m listening to Elvis – why do fools fall in.
I vowed to myself long ago I’d never die bitter and even though I may have years or seconds to go before my death I find the flight to internal happinesss has to do with love.
No matter how far I’ve gone down the rabbits holes to life, love has reared its confusing head.
The more I contemplate on what love means to me the more I find its interchangeable parts. I see how love can change and evolve. I see how others treat love and show love in different ways.
For the longest all I wanted was love – that love I thought originally would only be provided to me by someone else. Either a friend, or a “lover.” But the more and more I placed that obligation on someone else the more heartache I received.
So the conquest of finding internal love started. I’ve had to look within and seek the love that has to be surely there and dare I say just accept people for who they are even with their unwilling or inability to love me the way I want them to.
It’s almost one of those selfish/selfless acts I’ve heard about.
At 32 years old there are days I’m to tired to go on this journey and other days I feel as jubilant as a 4 year.
Writing though has stayed with me even through the times I’ve ignored the urges to pick up a pen and paper.
It’s consistently allowed me to express myself and get the bitterness away through scribbles, rants, soggy tear riddled papers and now this blog. It’s helped me to understand that it isn’t the external love I seek but the missing/lost internal pieces within that I crave and need.
And for that I will always be grateful.
So as I put these childlike blocks together in what is becoming my life’s journal I’m beginning to see the larger picture. I can see that the love I so desperately sought has been vomiting out through my finger tips this whole time.
And just maybe through years of practice and patience I can truly and whole heartedly love myself and all that I’ve done.
What are those messages I heard?
Who spoke to me those years ago and why did it make sense?
I was on a slippery slope of pipes, booze, and tainted ideas of love.
Then one day like a break of a fragile twig my mind saw the street signs change… “dead end.”
I was at the end of the road of my bender.
And it felt like a miracle passed down from some higher power. I was being saved? Or beckoned to the depths of hell?
I still don’t know the truth but I know what I heard and I know what I saw.
For what felt like 3 months I staggered around listening to these messages telling me exactly what to do and to BELIEVE.
I promptly looked at the drugs in my left hand and threw them out of my car windows “fuck that” I thought.
I had lost my mind. Yet, something kept me just sane enough.
I remember riding passenger in a false loves car and out of no where a vagrant cries out “I know what you’re doing to her.”
Everything seemed to fit and in those moments of delirious thoughts and feelings of spiritual powers at work I became awake.
I was awoken to where I was in my path and I stopped. I stopped and turned around.
It was scary and frightening and I gave up everyone I knew to start over.
This new path is lonely indeed.
I’m walking towards something I’m not quite sure where it will lead but the more I ignore it the louder it calls.
The messages are not as frightening anymore and I’m beginning to notice them coming from deep within.
When this all began there was a night when I was asleep and as clear as day I was awaken by the sounds of a someone calling my name; clear as day. Only to find I was the only person there.
I listened again as I went back to sleep and again I heard my name just as clear as the first.
Something woke up my soul. All those lonely cries I once had suddenly didn’t feel so alone anymore.
There’s a spirit to this world if some want to be believe it now or not.
I experienced it and who knows maybe it’s just to tell the tale of delirium hap happenings or to cope with the mania that became so real it changed my life.
The darkness is as real as the light both blinding and potentially frightening. From what I’ve seen when the darkness encapsulates it’s hard if not impossible to escape from and that is where I feel blessed. For if it wasn’t for that glimpses of light that did shine through I would have never had seen the messy shambles my state of being was in.
So listen for your name, seek the light, allow the messages to wash over you – whatever you believe – wake up.
It’s been nine years since I woke up out of a stupor of drugs, sex, and loveless aquantances.
I saw a world I had never truly seen before. It was filled with beauty, opportunity, and hope.
Its been nine years.
I went back to school – obatained three college degrees.
I got healthy and lost nearly 130lbs.
I got married, had a child and am now welcoming a second very soon.
I look at the world from morning to night and see the movements of the other hapless filling the voids that the previous night brought as the sun begins to rise.
I feel stuck between knowing and unknowing of what else this beautiful universe could bring me. I yearn for the day I can sit on a bench with pen and paper in hand, with no regard/worry of the mornings eearans and just watch as the sun rises and people begin to wash in the morning as a seas of individuals coming into tide and wave after wave they come and go until the moon is high and the tide is settled.
The life of my mind never seems senseless.