Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

24.1.18 |Past and present. Collateral Beauty.

I told her, she is also the reason behind this mind, said that as a child where do I even begin, all I did was throw glass at myself, when she wouldn’t listen to my heart I went into small spaces and tried to put it back together, there were memories, where I cried about not being unsterstood and when you’re this fragile even as a child you stop speaking about how you feel because you start thinking this, is the way everybody must be, when we look at our parents as children, we forget they are human, when we look at our parents as adults we forget they are human, must be sometype of ourselves, how we headache into a state of sanity, forget about the complicated and simple things in life is to exist and include yourself in your own oaisis of this world, is to refuse to believe how cruel we can also be to ourselves, love, time, death.
dear love,
I have watched you in so many people and things that sometimes I don’t know where to place you in myself, you have shown me so much. I met you in my friends now, and the first, was a boy when I was 15 and I still think about him when you escape my mouth.
dear time,
Why is it that we want to consume you and not get lost in you. I have bothered about it too, however, in my reality, you’re not the issue but the answer. I could drown into your syllables and watch the world fall into my arms too.
dear death,
The first time I met you I was 10, my body has not forgotten how you wanted to show your mother your feelings we, are no strange to you. You have given me a part of myself I think I lose each time and this is when we meet, and you, show me, love. I am still learning about your malaise.

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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

18.10.17

I’ve come to realise somethings about myself, things that I knew but didn’t know how to explain, it goes something like this, I look at the world the same way I look at people, opportunities, there is never a right or wrong answer but the flood of mental health and personality, sometimes it feels like war between myself and these things, I think about how anxiety has me in this tight grip, noose so personal all of a sudden, how the few stability in my life can subtly be stolen away by something that wants to need this body like the air we breathe, have come to understand that my mental health is also my worst enemy as well as my first love, how it teaches me about self, and love in the same destructive dysfunctional health, the things I never knew about, how it leaves this body feeling weak, surround this being with such careless yet die-hard words that know so well to break this same body down, when you have things like opportunity its strangely painful to witness your body want to suffocate all the breath it has saved, all at once, your body goes into this alternative mode where you start to overthink things like your ability, like how long can you keep this up, like, can you even do this, like you can’t keep up, like, I know you’ve been doing so well that opportunity felt right, felt like opportunity used to smile at you, it felt almost like happy, but you also know how that word doesn’t belong to this body, you felt like for the first time opportunity was something you can handle, but now, you feel like the air you’re breathing is not meant for you, like crying is not a solution and you refuse to give in to such weakness, you start to fight for opportunity and not yourself, also what will happen when your body and the best opportunity for you right now is starting to feel like its slipping away, like in this kind of reality how many times are we meant to let the body win, how many times can we break this body to win in the present, how do we stay this much of alive and fight for opportunity when our body starts crying for help and you start feeling worthless, like mental health is the enemy when you’ve worked so hard for a kind of opportunity just to harshly surrender and fight your own body and mental health at the same time, how do you win when you don’t understand whats going on, when you start feeling sorry for a familiar body, feel each word make aims at the heart, slowly reminding yourself…

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

12.10.17 | Incapable of honesty

you know, I look at love and I see where their trying to come from, I see their scars right through their words, there’s this vulnerable intimacy just for a moment and they are able to tell the truth, I’ve noticed it a few times, how love likes to take hearts and hold onto them so that they can use it when necessary, I’ve seen it so many times, I’ve felt how they speak about themselves and such narrative is the kind that cuts through skin, the best kind, the honest type, then they use that same narrative to dip yours and their body in poison, how often they lie and think you do not notice don’t remember that you’re both human and instinct, despite this you also allow them to take over this body sometimes because it feels like a different world when skin and kisses are touched in a kind of way, they are just the right amount of dishonest still, they forget that you have done this before, we all know our worth is as much as our truth, so when we lie we can not expect the truth, when we tell the truth we can not always expect the truth back this, is how you also loose love, you’ll fall out of love vigorously, they don’t understand the unpredictable reality such is too much, and you, you like to take others words and ponder their actions, match the words see the way they lied in front of this honest body to them not malaise, a massacre of torn up recycled truth to them just words, and you, you can’t help but laugh now, because again, this has happened too many times, you’ve seen what it means to love a lie, when you’re not ready for its kind of intensity, when you have watched passion in eyes that wreck with false narrative and actions in case you liked hearing lies you’ll witness what it means when the hearts brakes into two even halves, feel it ache throughout the body that had been taken for a fool, think not much of it, it is a gentle intense reminder of worth in feeling, if you were the honest one you will not regret a moment of your words, to know that you were honest with this kind of body is to love harder and know how to love back, this, is so important.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

5.10.17
flowers..meaning hope

“Watch this season change, this air has a way about its feel,there’s something so captivating about watching the spring, even the rain has a different chime, a voice so sweet in tune with her melody of being animate, how it overwhelms and beautifully whispers its secrets to the rain, without missing a sound only to notice it raining down on her, this is her birth, her other lover is to watch the colours turn into her favorite kinds of adorn, her will is just as commanding, much more fearless than usual, come, a hidden secret that vines her body, listen well, her mental health isn’t so apparent this season, a well kept secret the way the rain loves her back is untouchable, the mind will come to understand that its moments like these that she breathes, she is all types of care free bliss, only this season can give her flowers.” _hope