Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

12.4.18
draft

Its always a question, a statement of assurance, how the things that learn to keep my body, how the heart is a misfortune in this world, where you find solitude in yourself and keep this body close, how you’re able to let others prey into your sweetest spots just so you can see if they are worthy, how the heart has also learnt to mend and brake at this attempt, you’re the breath of its moments, when you can’t hold it all inside anymore you test its limits and give boundaries no limitations, everything is a gamble now, when you’re this intoxicated on a mind you’re lost in thoughts of how to reconnect and spark its soul, I have always been the type of dreamer that fantasize about love when I feel connections with hearts that become vulnerable at my words, that learn some of my secrets, that know how to tempt me in ways not others can, I am left with questions when I feel this way and what does my body do, it convinces me that this confession is not the only honeyed truth I need, so I hold my breath and I ask, how is it that you’re able to captivate my entirety in this way I have to know, and then, I press send.

 

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Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

11.4.18 | 12.4.18
Unfinished

I know, but what if I was told that dreams are a reality, what if I didn’t watch others and watched myself, I know, what if I gave myself the same connection I crave for others to this healing body, this good body, what if I told the mind all my secrets and the heart joined in, or if I didn’t have to take medication, what if I understood just how important my mental health is, back then, now, I know, what about this body, what if I praised its reflection instead of giving it reasons to apologize, I know, I know but hear me out what if, I didn’t know what it felt like to want to watch myself tear a good thing away from this identity like it was this ugly thing I had mistaken for a flaw, like I knew how to crack this skin, brake my body open so it might have been easier for the pain to drain out of this body, I know, I know what you’re thinking, but what if I didn’t know how to fix me, what if I did, what if I told myself I’ve tried and that therapy isn’t working anymore and this medication is making me feel worse, and that my body has started aching again and all I want to do is sleep away this lifetime, forever, I know, but what if I told you I’m in love with this body, that every time the heart brakes its the first one to run to it rescue with chocolates and pep talks, that the mind has also learnt to kiss the heart in need, that slowly, we are learning to love from the inside, we are learning that to be whole is to bruise and ache so we know what we are worth, that we are always this worthy, that we suffer from this type of craving, to reach the most of ourselves, I know, I know what you’re thinking but what if I told you..

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

8.4.18

I haven’t had time stop like this for a while, I’ve been so busy with nothing and taking medication, it felt like clear and no feeling, been focused on the most strange, like things that feel light and heavy but there is no emotion, like things that make me forget like not forgetting maybe like being so present that my body isn’t present, like I was happy in the present but I couldn’t feel it, like I couldn’t think it, I don’t really know how to tell you, I haven’t had the time and space I need to myself and I’m starting to feel like I need to try something else, I have lost myself and I want to find her, I fell in love with her intensity and her will power of quarks.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

24.1.18

Lately, I’ve been finding myself in really strange realities, Im seeing and noticing things that haven’t happened already with so much clarity, and in the same instant losing sleep, and my apatite, Im starting to feel my whole body in this kind of outward gravity, like my body is trying so hard to exist in a kind of presence where I can already see what’s unfolding right before my eyes before it has even happened and all I can do is watch and be cautious of myself, my sense of trust and truth could not be any stronger, I am feeling words like chaos, pain, their feelings, them, the ones who interact with me, watching words that leave their mouth and how their body language acts, I don’t even listen to most of their narrative anymore its enough to watch them speak, I am much more patience in this state of mind with a sense of anarchy and sharp awareness for the way others self whether they choose to show me or not, these types of things are not constraint to me, I am so much more confident in my narrative, what leaves my mouth is absolute, my truth has never been this much voice, there is less body, I am so much self in this state of mind there is no balance just a different sense of lost and reality in the same being but never constraint to these words, I am the most believe when I am this type of self, there’s a strong yielding of bind that holds me, I am finding it really hard to sleep with all this mind, I am in parallels with different moods, realities, and myself where do I even begin to find stability in this actual resilience.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

13.12.17 18.12.17
Depression and anxiety. two mindful contradictions

I said, I must just have a really nervous body, the kind of heart racing sensation that doesn’t know how to pace unsteady, watch the simple things around an existence that has learnt to watch how others self but not mine, I have been this type of lost to my own care it has been so long since I have felt anything unfamiliar to anxiety that can shake this body to not want anything unfamiliar, he said to me, none of us are made this way, you have to learn self and detach from familiar, he spoke so softly to me and I couldn’t even look at him, I thought about how predictable we are all addicted to something that takes away the pain, how ominous to feel contradictions like they were happy pills for a way of survival, that we mellow out this pain but finding release in ritual that is driven by emotion and pleasure, how fear is not only an insecurity but also a super power, that we are always so close and hero, how we choose to see the sky depending on our set mood, vivid vibrations to the mutual intensity we can’t help but feel alive when we bask in glorious deeds, that kind of sensitivity that takes over bodies enough to fuel a curious mind, a captivated feeling a body that can smell where he has been even when he chooses to speak in white lies, but never myself, never this breath, Im not even sad about it anymore its to be expected because when you have spent gazes memorizing the air they breathe and their smell how could you forget, I won’t hope for more, I tell them don’t make light of me, I have breathed of you enough when you choose to be this kind of memory, want a love that can be sparked by the scent of flowers and rays, and watch anxiety and of that boy mist into the air, when you’re this way you start to find ways to let the ocean become kin, so soft and fragile you’re, this is the only familiar you’re scared of letting go, you don’t like the way this illness makes you this unbearable thing that you can brake and spit fire at love only to wish you could swallow your own words how irritating, you’re able to be this honest but forget to soften your tone, to only yell at the mind in code and feel the mind speak back saying you can try explaining it to them but it will only look like an excuse you can not come back from this, so when this oasis hits you’re your own company, and a black hole vacancy that is lost and found inside of its own fable.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

23.10.17
don’t touch me, I don’t like to be touched in the same light that knows no truth about this kind of self, how I fear the things that come this close only to watch them crumble and lie in my eyes is the kind of perfection that knows what malaise looks like, has seen its tears and shed blood for its entrance, speak louder I can’t hear you when you’re this much mute this much hurt, isn’t it funny how I can’t keep opportunity for no longer than a couple of mouths, its all I need to show how much praise attention and compliments, there’s only so much this body can do until it notices its own cracks, see the way it hides self from them, see the way she smiles, she has taken you all for a fool, can you see her, can you see the way she cries about her health like she has control, like her body weak, like what is normal, like she is not normal, look at how she cries for nothing, silly, the way she can’t do life without others, without herself, the way she can’t do life, do you see, she’ll cry for your help behind your back only to tell you she’s okay and she’s done this before, how she holds everything in because her plight is still not understood for herself so why tell those close to her heartbeat, why say anything to anyone when she wants to scream pleas like don’t touch me, I don’t like to be touched in the same light that knows no about this kind of self-, but you never told anyone about this truth so what else were you really expecting.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

23.10.17
Sometimes I imagine being an empty shell, not being able to feel, speak or move, I imagine what its like to be something much less painful, something needed like the rain, I wish I was the rain so that when I feel like it I can cry and they’ll still (need me) call me beautiful and needed

Gratitude Diary Entry #ine

“Watch this space, watch her mind make chaos and her hero it back to a kind of superpower, she is the resilient nourishing flower, the sign of hope, the feeling of hope, she is her own hero to this kind of a body that knows very well how to personalize a type of noose, she is the begging saviour a rescue to her own survive, this strong, a type of moonlight, the twin hype to starlight dust, she is learning by herself so well, who else can say they have done this, who else can say they are surviving the smartest organ in their body, who else is this much self-care, tell me who..”

I get a lot of questions about why I go to the city by myself and what I do there, the simplest answer is because sometimes my body likes to be alone.

I’ve been doing this for a while now, and for me personally, its become a little therapeutic in a way. I mean its a way for my body to maybe find calm in its chaos, both inside and outside of the mind. Sometimes I come to the city sit in the library and binge watch anime with snacks like I was at home in my own room except I’m not in my own space. For the longest time now I’ve always found it so fascinating, and also challenging to be comfortable in my own skin, my own body and mental, basically to be my truest self, and every day I am still learning.

I find people intriguing so I go somewhere where there will be new people most every day, somewhere that is not always so familiar because familiar gives me anxiety too. I’m trying to teach my body a type of comfort and calm when I sense a breakdown, and for the first couple of months, I was really struggling to be around myself and come to terms with what was going on, and why I was breaking down. Even though I was not always sure most of the time, the times where I was sure made me feel capable and in control of my own body and mental, even if it meant it was a little or not enough. I started to reward myself for the little victories I made towards my own self-care, and this is how I’ve survived to where I am now.

Being grateful is a beautiful thing. But being grateful for your own care, love, happiness, body, mind, emotions, energy, wins, rewards, failures, existence, survival, space, mental health, your own sense of hope and beliefs is something to truly celebrate the most.

You’re as powerful, loving, resilient, kind and nourishing as your own practiced self-care. And trust me, they will notice it once you start to believe and practice it. You’re worth all the effort ALWAYS.

Today I am grateful for: Today I am grateful for my self-care.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

7.9.17

When your body learns to encrypt and put codes into the body to protect yourself from yourself you slowly learn that there has been a death in this body before, watch how close the mind likes to play tricks on the body trying to expert its codes to find release outside of this body, you’ll find this illness is fast between dreaming fable and lost in the present how confusing it much be to not see what is right in front of you, that we like to call these kinds of secrets evil, there has been malaise here for a long time now, we’ve become so familiar to the way it likes to hide so deep into the body make you forget who you are, and your memory is the blink of a second, only to look in the mirror and find traces of your bodies past its parts in the crators of the eyes, deep set skin aging with forgotten and hidden you didn’t know, you’ll look at the lines in your palms touch your skin like its familiar-, remind me of how much I don’t know about self, a being to this body that it is ill, that we have to write this way to bleed out its words, it has always been this way this was the only way since I was 10, can feel how tight it has been to breathe around here, still ashamed of being this kind of unpleasant, its not normal to be like this, talk to the body in second person, we aren’t allowed to be this weak, dreams that can be caught up in the mind are not the same as the types of malaise that are seen, that scar normally, have always been ashamed of being this kind of existing-, afraid that you’re a lie, that this is all just a dream, it has never been about sympathy, but rather empathy for what can not be completely understood.