thorns.
I turn the handle of the knob so to alleviate any noise interruptions as I quietly guide my front door into it's closed position. With the world now on the other side of the divide, the raw emotions I had effortlessly hidden erupted like a pot of spaghetti sauce left on high and unattended. With all my weight, and the entire left side of my face, pressed against the backside of the door, I held myself in the lateral position, but the tears behind my stoic eyes surrendered to gravity's tug without delay. Here I was again, having just said my farewell to yet another lost soul that I had the pleasure of finding in this lifetime. A soul I loved from the first moment I laid my eyes on him. Scattered like the leaves of autumn, I pray we never forget this feeling of pain and beauty combined - like the most precious rose in the garden, unattainable because of it's many thorns.
dictionary.of.obscured.sorrows.
I admit, it’s perfectly alright to express yourself using only the words you inherited from your parents. It’s alright to put ketchup on everything, and only dance ironically, and never learn another language, and never fight and never make mistakes. It’s alright to go to a party and only talk to the people you know. It’s alright if you climb back down the waterslide, and wait ten years before you tell someone how you felt about them. It’s alright to die in your bed, leaving a vault of treasure that goes to the state. But if you listen closely, many of the words we use to keep our lives afloat are now hulking derelicts, rust-eaten and bullet-holed, piled up with so much baggage and barnacles they’re sinking beneath our feet. We should cut them adrift, set them ablaze and let them rest; they’ve done their work.
natalie.merchant.
Is she fine? So well bred? The perfect girl? A social deb? Is she the sort you've always thought could make you what you're not? Ooo, jealousy. Is she bright? So well read? Are there novels by her bed? Is she the sort you've always said could satisfy your head? Ooo, my jealousy. Does she talk the way I do? Is her voice reminding you of the promises, the little white lies too? Sometimes, tell me while she's touching you, just by mistake accidentally do you say my name?
divine.boyfriend.
Weirdo alert! So, 2015 has been the most incredible year for me as far as my soul is concerned. The shift has begun and I have stories of the divine's guidance in my life that have caused some to question my sanity. I'll certainly take the time necessary to share those stories, but I don't have that much time at the moment. With that said, I'll scratch the surface of my week and the message I have received loud and clear, via three entirely unrelated recourses. That message is simply "love yourself." It's a concept I've struggled with for years, but it's been made clear to me that if I'm ever going to be successful in this life I absolutely must resolve this issue. The universe has even sent me clues on how to get started. Several times last week I found myself preaching to my single friends that I thought I knew the answer - to become the boyfriend you desire. In doing this I figured you'd have less time to obsess over an undeserving boy whose affection you pine for, you'd developed a strong awareness of what you want out of a partner and will be less likely to settle next time, and lastly, you'll eventually attract to you the kind of person that you've developed within yourself. Not even a week later I was validated in my arrogant beliefs as two articles fell in my lap at separate times that basically summed up my aforementioned plan to become the boyfriend I wanted. Then, the third sign shook my very core and confirmed the divine energy of this vast universe was not only listening to me, but also talking back to me. I was turning down the sheets and turning off the lights at bedtime when out if no where my inner voice told me to grab the book off the shelf I had purchased over a year prior but had never read. (I remember when I purchased the book I had no clue why I even bought it other than I was drawn to it. It wasn't even along the topic of astrology which was my latest fascination and my reason for visiting the book store). So I decided to pull said book from my dark shelf, and as I turned it around to remind myself of it's title my mouth must have opened so big it could've doubled as a boat slip. The title was 'Finding The Boyfriend Within: A Practical Guide For Tapping Into Your Own Source Of Love, Happiness, and Respect.' I started reading it immediately and had to force myself to put it down an hour later so that I might get rest before sunrise. It has lit a fire in me and I have never been this determined to fall in love with myself. I now realize I can't spend another moment of this life complaining that other people's actions or inactions are the reason for my loneliness or dissatisfaction. Sure, that's the easy explanation and I could probably even convince you that I am the victim of other people's misdeeds, but I can't lie to the world or even myself anymore. I want to break these chains and be free to accept love and give my love to the one that earns it. I don't want to continue this cycle of snagging a handsome fellow, falling hard for him, then watching him walk away as I'm forced to pick my own self up off the floor. I used to get angry at these men and angry with this supposed curse I live with. My loneliness was my only friend most nights. But I'm thankful, beyond words, that my eyes have been open and I now know it isn't those men at fault. The root of my problem is I'm not happy with who I am. The source of my unhappiness is that I don't love myself. That changes now!
i.feel.
INADEQUATE: /inˈadikwət/ •adjective• lacking the quality or quantity required; insufficient for a purpose.
concrete.angel.
If I have a regular reader of this bleeding heart nonsense I call a blog, not only would I be shocked at how bored they must be to tune into the happenings of my topsy turvy life, but I'd be willing to wager a few shekels that a regular reader assumes I'm barely hanging on by a thread and always depressed. While that's an easy conclusion to draw, it just isn't true. I just happen to pull my sincerest creativity from the dark shadows in my life. If I'm not writing or creating art, the safe assumption at that point is that I'm content, or even happy with my present state. Having said all that, I am letting the words flow out of my core tonight that tell of a deeply lonely Cicero. I have a great job that affords me paid time off for holidays such as this Labor Day weekend. So one would probably beg to understand why I've spent most of my three day weekend alone. Or why I've been uninspired and vacant all day today. Or why I don't have plans to hang out with friends tomorrow. Or why my friend list is shorter than Britney Spear's 2015 VMA dress. If I were being honest though, I could be standing in the middle of the VMAs as they were being recorded live and I'd still feel this nagging loneliness. I pondered the reason for these less than favorable feelings and, while I'll never know the exact reasons for why the universe unfolds as it does, I have deduced that my innate hollow feeling is a result of simple abandonment issues. My mother left when I was two, as she feared her own death if she tried to take me from my father in their bitter breakup. Then my father has abandoned me three times in my adult life. Each time for several years, and most recently two years ago. My grandfather was my world growing up and losing him to cancer when I was 10 almost killed me. The slightly older friend I idolized as a young adult stopped speaking to me after 7 years over petty fuss that I struggle to even recall now. The man I considered my soul mate, the love of my life, abandoned me three times. I've whined about him enough in past posts, but I hope you are smelling what I'm stepping in. Almost everyone who ever meant the world to me eventually left. And while I'm standing here like a concrete angel, able to weather any storm life may toss in my direction, I'm left hollow and grasping for some purpose. Or just some greater understanding of how to survive this life while enjoying it as I journey along.
mundane.
Day 28 of sobriety is in full swing, and while I feel proud of my accomplishment, I feel like I’m lacking some of the characteristics I grew comfortable with. I no longer feel attractive. I don’t spend a great deal of time maintaining my appearance like I once did. I lack motivation. I am gaining weight, but not grossly. With some routine weight lifting and exercise I could very easily build a body I could be proud of. But again, I lack motivation. I don’t sleep well at night anymore. I have never had problems with falling asleep or staying asleep, however, since sobriety I struggle with both. It takes more sleeping pills than is recommended in one dose to take me down at night. Even then, I wake up at least five or six times a night. Sometimes more. I don’t suffer from anxiety anymore, but my circle has diminished so greatly that most evenings after work I don’t ever see another human being. I spend a great deal of time alone, and sometimes I hate this fact. I have very few people in my life that I feel add value to it. My heart doesn’t get excited about anything lately. I have much to be grateful for but I don’t seem to love anything. Everything seems mundane or grey. I’m bored. I need change.
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