Inshallah

I feel most fulfilled when I let go.
When there is no attachment to feelings.
Feelings like jealously, or nostaglia, or sadness.

2015. That was the year for ugly emotions. Comparing myself to others. Never coming close to even my perceived life.

Missing my family like crazy, wondering where they are in their life, if they even think of me, and why we all moved so far from being together (and not just geographically)

Finding out alot of my friends were not friends.

Learning the hard way to love is sometimes not the right choice, especially if it's not the right person.

The thing is I understand now. Everyone has moved on. Everyone is moving on. They are living their life because it is THEIRS. Because it's THEIR LIFE. Not mine.
No matter how much I worry, or stress, or wonder if I matter in other people lives is going to change my life. Because it is mine alone. And at the end of the day I can only smile with fondness when I see pictures of how happy all my loved ones have moved on, and nod past the ones of those who hurt me. Then I have to close my screen and go for jog, write some poetry, do something that reminds me to live. To breathe in every hour of MY life.

These sadnesses are all part of my past. And no matter how much it hurts to want to be loved, to be admired, to be seen, no one can fill that space in me, but me. I have to make this year about me. Not the slightest in a selfish way, but in a self loving way. In a self NEEDING way. I have so many years of self abuse and self hate to make up for, I think it's time I started mending now. I know this journey will not be easy or smooth, and yes it will be lonely as fuck (especially on those nights where I want to speed dial anyone to remind me that it's important I keep living), but I have to do it.

This is my last post in this blog.
Thank you to the universe who doesn't judge me, who gave me this platform to talk about things (no matter how lame or embarrassing). Thank you Divine Ma for giving me the occasional sunny day to make me feel alive again. Thank you universe for sending the few but golden friends I hope to continue to swear with when I'm 80.
So hears to the New Year and the possibilities of the infinite content. Because that is all I want. The contentness of inner and outer peace. In who I am. In who I can be. In who I know and believe I will become. I pray to God you hear me for all I want is you.

Here's to the New Year. May it be blessed with your overwhealming love and joy.
Inshallah.
 

The Trills That Fit

The only time I feel like I can be anyone, that I can be anywhere is when I'm with you.
You find way of sneaking in the cracks,
creeping through my cynicism,
you make me laugh even when I'm mad.

You remind me of what it feels to be sensual,
just with the way you talk
my body rocks
so attuned to your tune
I may as well devour you

You speak of violent love
of loving violence
either way
it makes me want to let my hair out.

You whisper me to sleep
or blare your horns in the morn
either way you end up being the first and the last
and somedays I'm reminded that, that in itself is a comfort.

You remind me it's okay to dream big
to wonder about things like my place among the stars
because down here, the cold florescent lamps make it difficult to believe in warmth of light.

That's what you are for me
a warmth, a hearth for my heart.
Tickling the bad mood out of my body
speaking to me through poetry so I remember beauty, even if it's just for awhile.

You know all my spots
You know the path down my hips
Down my belly
Down.
It's okay,
I want you there.
Because it's still part of your art of pleasure.
Still part of your skill.

You have my photobook memorized
you know all my memories (the embarrassing and the golden)
you know the triggers to hit, the trills that fit
and each one I am thankful, and each one I hate you for.
Playing on the exquisite torture of re-feeling, even if its too big for my heart.

I hope wherever I go, you'll still be there. One step with me. One step afar. Calling out echoes in the dark, leading me to the light.

Music.
My muse.
Where would I be without you?

Choice

Not having sex is hard. But the only thing harder than not having sex is having sex, but not with someone you love or who you're actually in a relationship with.

That very reason keeps me indulging.

I know one night stands are very easily available. But having men fuck me as their "carpe diem" for the day is not enough for me. I want to be adored by my lover.

But I'm not going to lie, abstaining is very hard. Especially after hitting a 6 month mark, you start to notice you're compensating for it. I found food is my go to. Mainly anything with fat, sugar, or even both. Some of the time it works, but just like dieting, no matter how hard you try and "think" that 'hey I really enjoy and like eating carrots instead of that fudge brownie', you're body is still like- Nope.

All this to say, I don't know how to navigate where I am with a partner versus where I am in my life. I'm still very lost, still haven't found my career path/passion (which drives me to get up everyday and also drives me insane at the same time). And I think hey, when I get my shit together, when I've got my "ducks in a row" I'll be able to have the luxury of having a mate.

Cause that IS what having a partner it is for me. A luxury. The problem with some of my ducks is, some have their own mind, and I can't get them in line anymore than I can control the wind. With really bad physical health problems, I often don't get the luxury of choice. Getting the option to choose, and have options, more importantly the option to have a partner.

Sometimes when I see happy couples, it feels like a smug bitch reminder of something I don't get to have. I feel jealousy and sadness and every other bad feeling, because I don't know why God put me on earth if he doesn't allow me to love, and feel, and experience the good parts of life.

To which you might say, why can't you still do it? Why can't you still be with someone just cause you're sick?
Well, when I don't know if today I'll be in the hospital for my kidney, that I'll be able to sleep tonight for my insomnia, or that I won't feel suicidal because of it all, it makes it kind of hard to make dinner plans with a nice boy.

Sigh. Complaining doesn't change anything. I know. I guess I just wish I found someone like me, who could fully understand the pain of seeing others thrive while you just survive. It's akin to looking at people walking happily outside in the sunlight while you're stuck inside a muggy room. It hurts. The lack of choice hurts.

All this to say, Dear god, please, if you want me to finish out this life through, please give me back the ability to have choice.

We Butter Our Bread with Butter

We butter our bread with butter- an actual band name. A hardcore metal band name. This sparks a halarious full on discussion on the importance of butter vs jam and whether you can really not like that name or the fact that we all do really butter our bread with butter. I mean you can't say no to that.

"I can't believe we're still having a intellectual debate on this"

"Intellectual...hmmmm"

"haha, Okay true. "

"debate, yeah maybe.."

These boys are so funny.
Suave and Silly Liam Sweeny
Jiving Gyles Davis
Rocking Rowdy Ryan.

I'm reminded today what its likes to have fun. To act my age. To drink a beer with friends and feel attractive.  Even if it's just for me.

Had a good time tonight. Thanks Ma

Throwing me patches of sunlight, making sure I still walk through the woods. I get cha.

I get cha.

Part of Pain in the Pretty

You can’t take the sky away from me.

I thought it was dorky at first,

Some random non sensical quote to sell a tshirt.

And then I got it,

And I awhnned inside.

I’ve have a tough year, probably one of the hardest of my life.

My best friend and guy I was sort of “dating” cheated on me behind my back.

I told my father I knew he molested me.

My family called me a liar.

I stopped believing in myself.

I’ve fantasized about suicide. Like planning my will.

As if having things that I leave behind covers everyone is the most troubling issue.

I stopped talking to a guy who was my go to emotional crutch, but who really made me weaker.

I lost all my money trying to cover school and living in the city.

I lost my ability to want to pursue a career that I’d enjoy (even if it pays nothing).

I lost a stepmom as a friend.

So much.

I am honestly surprised I’m still alive.

But I hear a song,

Or I see love happening in front of my eyes over the room

Or I read a phrase that reminds me to dream big

“You can’t take the sky from me,”

and I can’t help it

I awhnn inside.

There is a reason they called beauty “exquisite,"

there is a part of pain in the pretty.

I am isolated.
I am so far from shore, I don't even see the light house anymore
I know I swam from most life
but because I could't stand the strife
of trusting someone who would only leave.

God knows I made bad decisions
leaving sun patches for fear of a storm
I did not even trust refuge.
It seemed a passing stop to death
in a lifetime of worry thats all you need
to heed
"Go it alone."

alone is part of loneliness
but then why is independance the only thing i have left?
that doesn't buy me boat or a friend or confidence

Worried worried
drowning in my own tears
which make me cry
which makes my ocean
just a little higher ahead.

heart cold
lost feeling in my feelings
scared that i don't exist without them
scareder that they are all who I am.

Ma, I've been alone for so long.
I miss you in the sadnesses
but I miss you more in the joys.
happinesses are only happy if they are shared.

I feel like you're a missing friend
who we don't speak anymore
but everytime something good happens
i wish I could tell you more

Where are you?
You are not in my bank, my health
my heart is bankrupt for things which I cannot store
so sore so sore
mental hurts keep score
scared
scared
where will i be if you don't love me anymore?

I've never been good at saying I'm wrong
because I've never been right
trying to feel like God is in the light
when all I want to do is put the shutters on at morning

will you still be around when I give up on myself.
will you be there if give into the night
the cool press of ocean tears
and the pull of sleep from the devil
who talks gently
like I can trust
peace in blackness
peace in something which is effortless.
peace in the kindness of relief.

i want to believe in something again.
even if it's a patch of sunlight
in a storm.

I don't want to be an interpretation
I just want to be understood.