Entry #15: I want to tell you exactly what happened to me today, while trying to leave the house + you should know this was not the first also psa I usually cry about it alone..

22 july 2019 at around 2pm – 230pm – Spring in late November.

I had built up frustration for months and feeling unsettled within myself, so I set out on this day, a Monday to self care by going to Dymocks at collins st book store to have coffee browse around, read and walk back and forth wanting to buy more books.

My morning started out pretty alight. I was still stuck with that type of uncertainty and off mood/ irritation but honestly I had been waiting for this Monday for a few days now and I was determined to leave the house and head into the city. So I meditated with the headspace app for 10 minutes before I did anything else, gathered my energy to getting ready for my self care day as planned. It took me longer than what I had decided on, I kept doing small things like changing what I was wearing, feeling conscious about how my body fit into my clothes, and wanting to take advantage of the winter sun I put on my make up looked at my eye shadow criticised it so I took it off and applied my foundation over it unhappy but still hopeful, and I packed up my bag pack ready to walk out the front door.

As I closed the door behind me, my headphones in walking to the station I started getting into this mood/ energy that was so strong it started to take over my body. I kept walking and thinking I just need to get onto the VLine and I’ll be fine, I just need to get keep walking I’ll be fine,once I reach I’ll be glad I did this for myself. I needed to believe this so hard. Because I had been staying in my own environment and started to feel stagnant and too comfortable with despair. I walked about nearly half way stopped in my path, looked down I wanted to turn back so hard, its as though my body was begging me with all its got to please turn around and go back and try again with another day locked into my mind. I felt so compelled, I went into the side turn not far from home, stood there and calmly walked back home. I opened the door and I remember thinking I miss seeing my dad, I missed his voice and his big hugs, his laugh and being next to him. So I walked into his space and sat on his chair positioned right outside a window facing our corner backyard. I heard my mum make her way into the space and ask me what was wrong unable to answer her I eventually started crying quietly with my headphones in and her hands wrapped around me. In that moment I knew why I was so upset, I heard words say “I can’t even leave the house” “what’s wrong with me?” my mum asked me again what’s wrong? this time with her eyes red and I just sat there and cried hearing “now you’re worrying her for no reason” I cried some more settled down and walked upstairs sitting on the floor with the sunlight beaming inwards. Mum asked me again something must be bothering you, is it a feeling talk to me I’m here for you is it a feeling she asks again. I look at her my eyes ready to cry again and I say “I don’t know, I don’t know. Im fine, I don’t know what’s wrong.” and I tell her it’s okay I’ll be fine for the fifth time, thinking and knowing I just need time to be alone for a while. And then I got hungry, so I went to an all you can eat with Nadren.

Fatma.

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Poetry: Melody of being Animate

17.7.19 – Making decisions for the life of you.

I’m thinking its left for interpretation, I’m thinking be assertive this way in other parts of your gratitude, I’m thinking we are human so no one is safe from broken connections, gusto waves that do not serve our highest beings are simply interchangeable, I’m thinking we all have a default, we all come made unknown, how some of us are curious about what closeness is and some of us couldn’t care less, how our values could be so different we are not human enough or merely human though we see the world in colours, taste in numbers, how some of us couldn’t care less about honesty and others care more about their own hearts, how there’s a way about it all, and there is, we are all the courage to be disliked and some are consistent on using words that change their lives, this way is how I also feel the world, the choice is both a conflict and simple state of mind, nothing makes sense or it makes too much sense and the fear to cower is shown into us, of how unknowing has never been so apparent into our homes this harshly first, suddenly the thing about self is that we are all living proof, some of us haven’t awakened our beats and the rest, well, they are dormant, some sleeping along side them touching heads and who are we,- I’m thinking about being locked up in libraries I could read here forever, this small daydream of mine, I am not afraid to brake or disappear one day, I have to accept this will happen with or without my energy well protected, I don’t ever want to stand still stagnant in how my life is lived, I want to remember my life as the protagonist that lived her own nightmares, the girl who battled her mind and chose life instead of existence, I want to be the person I know I am capable of resurrecting she is dragon bodied belly full blue flames and purple magic re-birthed alike, a brave act each time she faces her self she it met with forms of darkness, her life is the constant commitment of unlocking her own downfalls her courage is the fussy ability of turning them into weapons of intuition, she likes the intensity of the pain that comes with this type of healing, most will not see the importance of this healer, she does not shame her scars, it is the will of her that scars her skin this way the most, this is how she keeps the spark in her life, every word, narrative can be flipped she knows this too well,- So that when I die, I can say I have lived a dangerously envious life.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

When asked to write myself into my home, I can feel my anxiety flow through my body, the twins are awake now, my home has welcomed versions of myself, I am proof enough, those who know about this soul also know how it loves back, how it speaks softly into its name and firey into their homes first, I am a protector of heartbeats and each time they come to me I brave into a healer, a type of myself I have wished for the younger me, when I was younger, I cut my 4c the way I learnt to cut into my skin, learnt to fluently speak in poem then into dreams, it wasn’t until I forgave myself here, somewhere in my mind I had found a way into self love, taught my mouth how to care for my body, my body than taught a secret ritual to the soul, a half introverted half extroverted me, and in the middle of all my chaos, there, I found myself too, I was a born self taught dreamer, when I began to choose who I wanted to become I learnt the meaning of words without its terms, I closed my eyes, and changed the way I heard my blackness, changed the way I was being seen into a careless world. I swore, I swore this way was the way to never be, I swore to remember words like solitude in justice and how they meant out of my mouth, a black woman learning metaphors for the life of her, I swore to never miss mirrors, to never miss the way I stared into my 4c, it was never who I am to soften my hair, it was who I was becoming, to burn its roots, I learnt words that birthed bright colours, passed down recipes and double meanings, felt them in my mothers hands to my fathers voice, I saw my path crave words like carouage, like love, words like enough, words that meant more than skin deep, words that demanded my attention and more of my blackness, I found myself into a reality that taught me about nourishment, how to care for my 4c, how my coiled curls run so deep my mother sings your hair is rich and beautiful, how each time my mahogany was stripped away from me I claimed in right back, each time, and every, other time even, when my voice was chocked out of me upon stolen lands, I was a vision, claimed memories, learned them the ways it streams through me, my existence is the art of many seasoned generations, you can not fake this identity, you can not simply fake how my mother cracked her voice every time she cared to my 4c, watching her take time for my hair was an I love you, is was a take care of you, a forever feeling, her hands care taught me to love my hair even when I missed wash days, when I think about how it feels to have gotten here, how it feels to be this black, and this women, when I think about how my identity is questioned into me, like a locked home being forced open, their mouth speaking into pressed ego’s, like a joker game, I go blank, there is a truth heavy into me, when it comes to putting my soul into absolutes for them, it is only when I remember that each word are extensions of meanings I remind my soul that our home has never been one to follow rules or spectrums, rather acknowledge that they are there, and never the end of my written, I am a home that feels with the mind and listens with the heart, I am someone with contradicting senses there is always another way about my every extension, I know what it feels like to not belong, and to feel like you belong into a type of extension, I speak in only my reality and dreams, sometimes, a better me is growth, is spring in late November, meaning I can be this intangible too, is to accept me, is soft, is a love without trapped chains, there is always a way about everything, I know this, I know this because I know what it is to heal like you want to save yourself from yourself, I also know how my hair welcomes her texture into a room, how their hands have no welcome mat here, when I see my people being shamed for what they have had their whole lives appreciated first outside of my skin I remember why we speak so highly of us, why I speak so highly of us, why we love so highly of us, I know this, I know this because I know what it holds to be self and fire, my journey with my identity has always been becoming, has questioned my existence, a six part better self that begs a better me each day I am with, or without my depression-, let me sweeten your tongue for a life time, I am a Fire in the Rain, saga moja, in collateral beauty publication of me first, first, who I am, second, what I am becoming, third, when I become, forth, where I will become, fifth, how I will become, and lastly, why, I am becoming. So you see, my journey is a forever written.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

Burning Spring Love. (fell from the sky.) | 15.5.19

hey love, kiss me, tell me you can bring down the sky for me, tell me the stars ain’t nothing compared the way I make you feel like without this love there is no other matched to what I am with you. tell me how you found us, tell me all your hidden secrets, tell me you’ll listen to my silence even when its raining, tell me how much you love spring, the way it leaves us to love harder, how talks like this are the best kind of kink, I remember when you asked me what passion was to you, how you could taste it near my lips, how close we are to sparking these flames, nothing like spring in late November, write me away, use your words, tell your fingers to stop misbehaving next to flames this bright, tell me again how you can not leave my burning spring, how you’re not afraid to lose me, how we ache apart enough to close any lost words, sometimes we may burn buildings and ask the spring to leave, the way you understand how I love, how my hands are the place you feel the safest, how my voice is reason for it all, learn me more of your scars, tell me how you keep that voice, how you love so hard, we are both this way, both melting into each other, you don’t agree with me, we fight about how our voices both hold our love, how they cradle something this inherited, how we wind each other up, how we love to hear our love out loud, there’s nothing more dangerous than love.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

20.4.19 | Guest.

How do you follow me into my home, I’ve been thinking about what manifestation is, what it could look like in this state, I’ve also been talking out loud trying to remember how to use my words when I am this unexpected, I have always told myself that it’s always going to be okay, that you’re allowed to be here too, when my depression visits it brings all the ache with out the twins, knows how to flood in memories, this type of meeting has always still been this way, has always felt like the very first time, and like the last time, what do you call an insomniac with dreams, an unstable mentality into a life, how do you call it again, I’ve gotten so used to being lost that the word its self has fooled both meanings, everything in me is preparing to shutdown, there are two of me here, what is that name again trauma, healing, these words buried so into me I can’t help them out of me, sometimes I’m scared about it all, I don’t exactly know when its going to end, I’ve been holding onto my pieces picking up its shards my hands bloody, I know there are guests of who I am living here, coming in out as they please, they are sloppy, careless and misunderstood, so caved into harsh words that have never belonged here, you tell yourself not to bring that kind of talk here, we did not agree on these types of unnamed chaos too, my existence feels like its on pause again, somewhere I can not even give myself the permission to do anything but breath between these four walls, this has always been beyond a feeling, I know what it feels like to heal, I know my breath has done gone been here too long we want us back so hard, we still do not like the process of understanding everything when guests are this rude into our home, I still have dreams to bring me back alive and well, want to break all these pieces into more pieces and say look this is how I am made it here too, I am learning courage in so many conversations, learning there are more than two sides to every word, I am teaching myself that it is the best thing to fail and hearing my own plea’s is me condemning me to come into myself as I step outside of who I am, to look at all of me and hand my trauma the key for next time.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

19.3.19

You know I get it, we get so caught up into spaces and sometimes its so easy but so hard, like hopelessness is inside our norm I get it, sometimes its a life, there’s something to be said about time when you feel like these outcomes are not matching up to who you are, who you could be, I’ve been there before, where you feel like there is no space for you, you’re are not allowed to do what you want what you need in order to live up to your own truest self and, we get stuck on mindsets that really know how to break down whole bodies, sometimes breathing is not enough and I always secretly hated being told to breathe in and out for every broken part of my whole, it was never a start for me that way, I wanted to look for quick fixes and that was the first time I learned some of my triggers, they are always changing but I have also learnt to give them time, to reflect often into thoughts, I needed time, my own space, away from home, sometimes I ran away from home because it feels all too familiar, I am not one to ever give up this way too, I had made my choice the times I chose myself over everything that yelled at my body, I am untold fire, I am the secret story, I am the story that is still choosing to be written I am my choices of everything I have created of me, so anytime anything comes at my home and wants to break in I am ready with all my pain and love for always choosing to survive the ways in this life too, you can not break down a door that is safety in numbers, there is no one who can tell me otherwise I won’t even dare you, that would be me putting a knife at your soft spots carefully hidden asking you to have a conversation with the secrets you’ve been running in cryptic circles from your own home first, I know, and this is just the beginning.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

It’s a nice idea, but it doesn’t exist: reply| 19.3.19

I want you to think about this for a moment, think about it the same way you hold yourself, after you having given yourself permission, the same way you crave your own attention, I want to you to think about how you let something so untrue into our being when there are words like humility, trust, like honesty like dreams, words that had no meaning until you assigned it its divine correlation, how often you smack your mouth in the name of words like healing, words that had no specifics until they aligned with your intentions until you found its meaning, how careless are we enough to believe things if not for who we are, for ourselves first, can we not seek this much, I hear this statement so often and I wonder about the love they have in them first, the dreams they have given life, I remember moments like the milestones we take deep breaths after, how close we are to achieving something we have manifested for so long, how good this feeling is, that it is both real and out of this world, when we mention words like love and someone else why is it so hard to see, I mean like we tell ourselves it doesn’t exist when we are seeing it come to life in so many people, we must understand outcomes like timing and love, see its attention to detail and notice its perks, who says these words know the bitter taste it leaves in its mouth, between clenched teeth, has been here before, is both unrequited and swear to leave this feeling alone, to never know about its meaning, when we question words like love in all forms we are confirming notion of its opposites, we are denying facts based on heartbeats, on a changing person, we are allowed to change, we are allowed to heal and move, love is not conforming it does not have strict synonyms it will eat the alphabet alive then rearrange its meaning just for you, be careful with perception, the mind is both the truth and a liar, your heart is both armor and silly, trust in your intuition, be honest with your body, you’re coming out of a closed state this way too, lean in to learn yourself to choose love over its definition too, can you hear me okay back there too.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

2.3.19 |cherry

You know too often we get caught glancing, chances thrown at us and we can’t help but ignore them, and I’ve been thinking, should we always risk these kinds of forces, I mean like how often is it we get to make a choice that could give and take so easily, you know what I’m talking about, the ones that are not always as clear or empathetic when it comes to these people, you’ll meet a part of yourself that is telling you to listen to your body knowing very well your mind feels and your heart thinks as if this couldn’t have been anymore simpler, late last night I was looking at planets from bed, closed my eyes for a moment your name in here is this another way to uncomplicate and this just got even more painful, carrying uncertainty is almost like dragging a body, is also like telling yourself you’re worth care and love without the self, still honoring its tradition giving hope with no strings attached this the last effort for your mind to breathe at ease, ready to call home, selfish reasons for you, sometimes, they have to learn what its like to live without a loving mind and careful heart, the ones that claim it are appropriate to this type 4, call home and ask them to hold the door open for your return this is the final downpour, ask the sky to rain down on you, beg it to scare, so you learn to never go back, to drown far from this feeling for something new, treat yourself to take your own breath away you already know what to do, don’t let me repeat it mindless times, go, now.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

Moving on, and letting go (interlude ver) | 6.3.19

Adjective proposition, in narrative motion, both a bold statement and a wish or three away, this is a sitcom of stolen words to help with heart on love, I don’t think there’s a word for what that is, actually there is a word for that, its love, when you care about someone beyond all rationality and wanting them to have everything they want no matter how much it destroys you its love, and when you just love someone you just, you don’t stop ever, even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy even then especially then, you don’t give up, because if I could just give up, if I could just you know take the whole words advice and move on and find someone else that wouldn’t be love that would be, that would be some other disposable thing that is not worth fighting for, this open dialogue I tell myself then remind them who I am of all the affirmations is this true love, also, in this begins a strong heart is needed, a mindful presence of identity customized self worth bring out the two souls roam your body and feel its presence, the thoughts and emotions you’re are looking for are all surrounding your emperor nobility take it, it is all yours, this whole life time, fall in love with intangibles and show off its love, boast about how close you’re to a feeling that is learnt through a soul, you know exactly what I’m talking about, your body has a wellbeing of untouchable enticement, you say you love, let go, you’re a dependable flame to this fire oxygen first, people say they are going to change and it never happens and people go back to old ways and old habits, move on, its not that simple.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

Gratitude of love (healing us ver) | 6.3.19

How careful, we steal hearts and glances the way we breathe, we use words to never use them in front of each other and sometimes ourselves how often do we wish to stay this soft a greedy us, are so misguided even to our own who gives us permission first, do we only ever seek words that gratify us from all the misfortune we confine our selves in, could we cry us all the oceans in our blue planet the irony is both intended and a learning effort, how determined are we to fail at love until we understand how close we are to its warmth so we say always, want this kind of love first from the beginning before we give it control, when we are a disciplined flame the smoke carries our sky and we get whispered away by worn down hearts trying to heal themselves too, what are the selfish rules we must come to closure within a body that has both bruises and love, they say what they want, there is no wrong way to love someone, that letting go clears the air, the date spent with a returning body, do we devour in perfection our existence close, in order to let go, how much does it really have to hurt until its all over, how do you let go and move on when oceans are irony of a false affirmations, is this human enough for me, how long does it have to heal, is this way of confrontation in narrative too, from healing people too, healing people with unsure love can they only still heal too, I swore I would not repeat him again so why does it still hurt so much, the catch is either you or not them don’t fool yourself any longer, leave this karmic air alone, set us both free, this is how we belong together too.