My lenses bear the scratches of my past, dreaming of their removal.
Seeing my eyes glisten, free at last to see clearly the life that I’ve made.
To appreciate fully what I’ve been given & what I gave.
To show through my eyes what I’m not willing to say.
“I love you X I hate you”
The horrid days that refuse to leave me sane.
But I know! One day my dream will come to pass.
My happiness won’t be questioned by self. I am me, and I am happy, & that is fact.
Sometimes I may forget myself & lose all tact, but to be the joyful simpleton itself is the greatest of acts.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately on the topic of routine. Can you truly say that you love routine, if you don’t love what’s in your routine ? At that point you’re simply using the comfort of familiarity to justify leaving yourself in circumstances that don’t serve your happiness. However what if you do love what’s in your routine ? Then can you really say that you love the routine? When you love something it encompasses your mind and you work to better and improve it in any way. So is it really a routine at all ? These are questions that have recently circled my brain but due to a routine I myself have come to be in. One day I asked my manager these questions. How she worked in a strict routine as a person that doesn’t enjoy routine at all.
“I don’t work in the routine. I work in spite of it.”.
I realize now that I was thinking of routine too specifically. We all have a routine, though vague it may be. We all wake and eat, use the washroom and sleep. We all have a way to numb our mind when the day is long. We all spend time doing something we love, and force ourselves to do something that we hate because there will always be things in life that we don’t like to do. Doesn’t mean we can just stop doing them. I love my routine. Though I never before found meaning in those words. There’s things I want to change, and improve, but change is part of our routine aswell. We all change. And we do it routinely in its inconsistency.
In five years from today I’m going to send this blogs link to a friend of mine.
June 13th, 2024.
No one that knows me currently follows this blog.
I won’t share my name.
However one day when I’m 80 years old, I’ll have 3 foot long black hairs dangling from my chin. Dragons tattooed on both upper arms, flying as I jiggle my chicken fat whilst chasing hooligans down the street, naked save for a diaper and clacking tongs, screaming “I’ll get you for this”.
I will release my true name.
In five years from today I will change my identity as my current one becomes associated with this blog.
Then when I become that 80 year old woman, I will reunite with this me I am now, and I’ll address you lovely people once again.
Like an oak, unique and divine,
With beautiful brilliants, for eternity you shine.
Through growing roots across the dirt,
You spread beneath the earths hidden yert.
Over time yourself, and all, will truly see.
Across the world, you live as a piece of every flower, and every tree.
Happy Mother’s Day to the beautiful soul that is you. Love, your grateful daughter❤️
He speaks like there’s a river flowing south.
I can imagine it all.
The greenery behind his eyes.
The waterfall behind the drip from his tongue.
I smell the beauty of a garden cared for by a single set of hands.
Blooming through every season.
You can never truly see yourself like someone else does.
But I hope in some way,
I can describe this in a way he’ll understand.
He is the garden,
He’s infinite In the possibilities of what he can grow.
Around that finalizing bend of straight and narrow path where you can hear the wallows song.
The bristling hair rising to meet the wind caressing my skin.
The blues, greens, golds and reds,
Flaming past us like a current flowing down an unobstructed path.
I can feel the heart of nature beating.
Engulfing me like a drum sounding so audibly that you cant help but sync yourself to the sound.
My breath is distant with the tingling of the cold spreading over me.
I feel both whole and disassembled at once.
Like a dotted page that you must only connect with a thin line for the hidden image to become apparent.
Terrified to keep stride around that curve.
To embrace the unknown like a new pair of pants I simply need to slide into.
But oh man will it be beautiful.
I can feel the potential screaming in my bones like this path was engrained in me before me was a reality I was given.
I don’t have the luxury of hesitation.
So onward, because there is no more gain in moving back.
So gracefully I’ll dance forward to greet the incoming turn.
And oh man,
Let me tell you.
As I reach the time in which I await.
I’m so fucking happy.
Everything falling apart.
Realigning I suppose.
The person I want the most doesn’t want me,
And the friend I didn’t expect to return so soon,
Reappeared with a fire blazing.
I hurt so much,
But I’m so fucking happy.
And it’s scares me,
Wares on me,
That I can take happiness from such a situation.
But if it hurts so much now,
There has to be something beautiful coming.
Whether a day from now,
A week from now,
2 months from now,
Even if I’m Simply given,
The blessing of crossing the path of an animal everyday,
That is such a gift.
And this hurt,
That consumes me sometimes,
Is so beautiful.
I have never felt so blessed,
To be in pain.
I’ll have an even grander appreciation for life than I do today.
Then one day,
I’ll leave this reality.
However when that day comes,
I will depart with no regret,
No bitterness or spite.
I’ll float away with the effervescence of every beautiful memory I made on this world.
So Thank you love.
For all the glistening pain we shared.