You’re not going to always know if you’re making a conscious choice or you’re repeating an old pattern to protect yourself from feeling hurt – an irrational fear placed in a hypothetical future. It’s probably easier to hold your guards up. It’s probably easier to break your own heart until you learn that you are your main source of pain, not anyone else. Highly sensitive people hurt the most, but they also dream the most and and care the most and experience life more intensely. I think it’s important to not apologize for your choices, but to recognize their reason. The world is an immensely kind place, and the answers you’re looking for never lie in the past. As long as you focus your attention on gaining awareness, there’s a lesson to be learned.
Why I Stopped Blogging
Writing used to help me cope with many difficult situations that challenged my growth, especially on an emotional level. I could pour out every little “sad” in me into detailed increments, connect the pieces, and then calmly look at it from a distanced view. I pulled things out of my past and made sense of them. I was able to heal myself by taking the position of both the teller and the listener. This worked for me mainly because all the pieces of the puzzle that I was trying to assemble were staged in what I perceived to be “a past life”. The timeline was not the biggest determinant of what a past life meant to me, but the physical and mental separation from everything that past life entailed.
Continue reading “Why I Stopped Blogging”On self-exploration
We mirror someone else’s energy in a search for our own. We search for belonging in others, and we search for love inside of ourselves, hoping that this love will be strong enough to give our mundane life a purpose.
Beauty
At 9:45 am her phone alarm rings. Beauty looks at me with sleepy eyes and whispers, “morning.” I don’t reply, but I smile and touch her face. It feels soft and pretty. Beauty’s hair is still wet from last night’s beauty shower, where she bathed in orange zest, cinnamon, and moonlight. Beauty washes her face with spring water and gentle breeze. She then moisturizes with La Mer tears-infused balm. She makes a teapot of sunflowers and daisies, waits until it’s lukewarm, chugs her teacup it in one shot and pours me one. “I don’t drink” I say. “It makes butterflies grow inside of my stomach”, she says.
Continue reading “Beauty”A fragment that failed its’ purpose
This piece of metal (image removed) is fragment of a massive explosion that landed on my room’s balcony in 2013. I was laying on my bed next to a wall-sized glass door. I always sat there and let my body get soaked in the subtle sunlight, as I watched the clouds moving in the sky in a swaying rythme. I would lay on my back and imagine as if gravity is reversed and the blue sky is my ground; a thought I was often amused by. I felt so lucky being able to watch the sky from my own bed and more clearly and vividly, from my balcony. The sky might’ve been at some point the most exciting thing in that lifeless town I called Home.
Continue reading “A fragment that failed its’ purpose”Friendship timeline
My earliest memories of going to school was being somewhat sad and somewhat bullied. Bullied for having bad hair, being called stupid, called lazy, called ugly, feeling small and overpowered by mean kids. At that point I was still not fully aware of what friendship even meant. I had cousins my own age and I spent great times with them during the Summer, but school made me feel weird and disintegrated. In fourth grade I had a lot of school-related anxiety and became more aware of the exclusion I felt among my classmates. In fifth grade I met this girl and since the first time we talked to each other between classes I felt the most genuine happiness around someone. Soon after we became best friends. This was the first time in my life I knew how connecting with another human felt like.
Continue reading “Friendship timeline”Ghostly Visions on New Year’s Eve
We were madly in love for a very long time. Twenty-three days to be exact. It was the longest relationship I ever had.
On the twenty-fourth day, a pigeon crashed into Levi, while he was climbing the steep stairs to the apartment. He tumbled down, struck his head on the sidewalk and died.
I lost my soulmate and fell into a deep depression. I cried every day, for the next one hundred and forty-eight days. I started counting the days since Levi had brought me the flowery pocket calendar with fluorescent violet patterns on the cover. I got excited about it when we were passing by a storefront on a balmy summer night. Each day has an interesting fact printed on it.
December thirty-first says, The Egyptian sun-god, Ra, changed himself into a cat, in order to battle evil. Bast, the goddess of fertility and love, always took the form of a cat, with the body of a woman and the head of a cat.
Continue reading “Ghostly Visions on New Year’s Eve”Disconnected
Speaking last. Speaking least. Speaking loud. Words won’t come out. Saying too much. Writing more. Writing less. Wanting perfection that doesn’t exist. Is she my friend? Looking above. Clouds touching. Clouds dissipating into clear blue sky. Wanting perfection. Seeking perfection. Unattainable. I won’t be happy. I am happy. Sink within myself. Reject tenderly. Accept the average.
Fragment told by a seventeen year-old
I guess I didn’t think about potential. It didn’t occur to me that I’d have a purpose in life. Sure, I’ll go to school and graduate then have a job then die, either alone or in a horrific war situation. At one point my fear of not having one true passion scared me to death. I’m not sure.. maybe having a hobby gave me a purpose in life. I wanted to know that I did the best I could do at a given moment regardless of who I was surrounded by or whether I was surrounded by anyone at all.
Defying anguish
Life is full of tragedies. If you don’t see this then you don’t see the world as it truly is. I think being positive can help us rationalize things that are otherwise perceived as nonsensical and make us otherwise feel like we’re victims of the circumstances. While this particular thought is not entirely wrong as many people are living a reality that forces them to be victims of their circumstances. However, thinking of ourselves as helpless victims as a general way of explaining bad occurrences not only forces us to surrender to obstacles presented our way but also deprives us from the capacity of having power over our destiny. This leads to being ultimately unable to process grief in a healthy way.
Continue reading “Defying anguish”