Once Upon September 2018

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I love a lot, myself perhaps and a couple of undeserving people. I believe I've mastered myself, more so every month. I've learnt to say to myself that I understand what the world is about but find it suffocating to share my thoughts with others. The difference in experience is a major contributor. I ramble a lot about inner sense that makes less sense, and by that I mean, sometimes I know what I'm talking about but I hardly understand it. This week the devil of depression is knocking hard on my door. All I want to do is cry. I have a fear for knives but believe me that I'm the cook of the house. I'm strung out on images of the possibilities of things going purposefully wrong. I can excuse my behavior but I'm tested everyday. I wake up with nothing to look forward to. I don't open the curtains until 1 in the afternoon, because from 8am to 12pm I plot on where to find the courage to get out of bed. I dread going to bed at night knowing that morning comes, another day to think, to see the same walls, do the same things, look in the mirror and find a thousand standing imperfections. These days seem to go by so slow. I can no longer convince my mind to remember that Monday was just a few days ago. I cried today, and I almost didn't stop. It punched a hole in my chest, the realization that the music wasn't helping. This is the first time I'm writing in a while. I'm supposed to know how to describe the way I feel. I'm fearful that loving myself maybe so far from me right now. My spirituality seems in shambles. I might not trust myself. I cannot dilute my reality because I know of it. I'm haunted by flashbacks of what was my life. They said I couldn't move on if I carried my past into my future. Nobody helped me with it, so it is friend to me. I was just thinking how people just read, only to realize a cry for  help when the spirit is lost from the earth, but they never say a word of it when they've seen the ugliness of your mind when you share it... We are a "This was a cry for help" society, and I can't imagine a bigger tragedy.

Comments

  1. typhonreincarnatedSeptember 26, 2019 at 4:51 PM

    I can only imagine a greater fix... can confide in me, what I lack in experience I make up in cliché and spiritual understanding of life, true bliss comes from within dear sister, nothing outside of you has any power over you, the only thing outside intervention can do is show you the way and if you choose to walk it, peace of mind is inevitable.. embrace the divinity, the divine spark within.. know thy self

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