Release

Days go by

Winter comes and goes

I feel the ebb

I feel the flow

Scattered in my mind, 

Precise in my words.

I feel release,

Seeping into the world

Who

I think there's too much focus on who we are going to be, and not who we are... 

I am a billion different things,but I am just one. I cannot be all the things, all the dreams, all the aspirations, because I am me, right now. How is one supposed to know what he is supposed to be if he doesn't even know who he is, now. 

Hey

doesn't matter,

we're here.

keep spinning, 

do not fear.

your light is beaming,

keep it bright.

dont forget, 

about tonight. 

i'm stalling, 

calling

always falling.

your light is too bright,
don't fight your appetite
for change, for beauty,
that you deserve.

Meanings

Meanings are exticential,
they hold so much untapped potential.
Rituals forgotten,
useless words

Frequence

They come in all forms,
light and dark...
feel the spark.
Ungulating directions, whispering trajections.


I went hiking at Hocking with some super awesome friends yesterday and it was super awesome. I did yoga with Anna at noon, then Aya got stuck in a tree...legitimately stuck in a truck. She was like forty feet in the air...crazy girl.

Saturday.

Saturday's are a gift. Birds chirp at nine AM. Singing songs you only hear on good days.

Choosing yourself is the most beautiful thing you can do. Doing things for others is beautiful too, and we're taught that in order to be selfless you have to give up the fulfillment of your own self. You must give up doing things for yourself, you must do things for others. The truth is, though, that you cannot fully give yourself to anyone or anything unless you are first doing all things that you do, for yourself.


Daily reoccurances,
seem out of my control.
Surrender, Suspend her. Defend her. Arrest her.
Giving my all, all of myself,
for peace, for angst, for any chance at a glimpse of light.

I release my yearning to mend,
to fix what I tend to bend.
Flooding in, comes peace.
I only have myself, and I am in control.
Going inside, a trecherous path, at first,
until you stop trying.
Breathe, and move towards love.

Home.

I may go home to Indiana today.

I miss my soul family. I struggle with this.

Constantly absent, for things my heart aches for.
I'm here, planting seeds, I hope anyway.
Crucial synapses.
I am a link, in many terms.
But I can only take so much.

My heart aches for the love I am capable of giving myself.
Running to find it. Find yourself.

Personal struggles, old habits run down familiar paths,
but i am building barracades, detours, re-routs.
We can break it down.

Stand strong, it gets a little better now.

You just have to believe it's possible.
Come from a space of love, inside your own heart.

You are tortured, you are in pain,
so do this to heal your own heart.

I am not

I am not perfect
I am not yet wise, although wisdom lives within me.
I am not sure.
I am not a poet, nor a song writer.
I am not somebody who knows anything.

I have all these feelings, and emotions, inside my head.
I am indecisive.

People seem to look towards me for guidance.
I look towards you.

I used to want answers,
but I am slowly realizing that you have none.
You are simply following, the light that we both know to be true.
It's all obscure, and it makes no sense.
Every experience with these castles, those high appointed..
leaves me with more answers, but  more questions.
A paradoxical paradox.

It doesn't have to make sense to be beautiful.
Endless trickles of exasperated exhaustion.
Endless fickle of the imagination,
angsting for truth, but isn't it all truth?
What's the point in choosing dark spaces?
You don't have to fight for light, you just have to believe it's there.
Trust me, I know even that is easier said than done sometimes.
Why would your own mind beg for you to wither?
Whispers from your own pits, forcing you to fits.
But that is not you, your mind is below you.
Find your voice within.
Do it for yourself.




Today,

I am

Today, I'm starting a blog. I think this will be good. I used to have a xanga. Do you remember those? I used that thing as my diary for all of sixth grade. It was fun, a much more personal form of Facebook I think. Everyone seemed to share everything on there. Mine got deleted along with many of my classmate's at the beginning of 7th grade. I've always kind of been sad about that. I mean, that's one of the only times in my life that I was writing nearly everyday, and it was on the internet! I used to write everyday in high school, and I go back an look at my journals sometimes, but it would be super neat to get an insight to my eleven year old self via an archived blog. 

I am 21 years old. I almost wrote 20. I guess I'm feeling pretty immature today. 

I nervous eat. 

I'm eating tortilla chips, they're super good, but it's nervous eating. I keep a snack by my side so that I don't waste time going downstairs to the kitchen and opening the fridge 500 times a night, somehow forgetting that I did not go grocery shopping in the past fifteen minutes. 

This is my journey. My story. 

One time, 

i found myself walking along this path

I didn't really know where I was going, but I knew it was the right way.

I could feel the pulse, I could hear the voice, external.

I didn't really know what was happening, 

but I knew it was right. 

I listened, very intently. 

I followed, very carefully, 

because I knew it was right. 

Somehow along the way, 

I got scared.

I saw things, felt things, heard things....

I was confused, and while I could still hear that pulse, pounding...

fear found its way in.

Just believe these things are happening to you,

and fall into them. 

This is your life,

you are in control. 

I'm nervous eating again. I'm not going to even go back and read it.

Why have I never done this before? Wow...

When we were youngsters,

we thought the adults had it figured out.

then we get here,

to find that they were never there.

we're not here.

I'm ready to move on,

I'm ready to heal.

I'm ready to feel, real.

If there was something, just one thing.