“You’ll live to be a hundred if you give up all the things that make you want to”
Where does the mind go when our brains are busy pursuing a hedonism so vile and sweet that the only escape is autopilot?
Does it venture back into the heart to protect it from its own transgressions? Does it look for solace in that pumping vesicle…
As we try and seek excitement with drowning and drifting, and lifting our hands in the air, swaying our hips to the tune of “what is good enough?”
We are obsessed with the sound of the chop, chop, chop. Breathe.
We wish we knew where we were needed when we are not needed here. When do we go when its apparent that we aren’t needed now? How do we go? How?
“I raise up my voice—not so I can shout, but so that those without a voice can be heard…we cannot succeed when half of us are held back.”
Another one bites the dust. A potential companion swept under the rug by their own hand and their own broom.
What do I do?
What do I say?
What do I radiate that makes me not fit?
Some may say I am not pretty enough. At least not under this makeup.
Some may say I am not thin enough. At least not under these clothes.
Some may say I am too intense. When I haven’t taken my meds
Some may say I am too strong-willed. When I speak unashamedly.
Perhaps I am simply too loud.
How long have I been numb to my own insecurities? How long have I been bowing down to the pressure of ‘not good enough?’
Too long. Too long.
I am here. I am breathing.
My body is unique. It has marks, and bumps, and bruises, but there is no ONE like mine. My gift.
My voice is strong. My laughter fills up the room and reminds those around me that I choose happiness. My gift.
My emotions bring me colour. I have looked in the mirror and asked myself if I feel too much. I feel just the right amount. The question becomes acceptance, becomes love. My gift.
From this day forth I don’t apologize for the gifts I have been given, not even to myself.
I simply pass my gifts to others.
This is the post excerpt.
Thoughts, ideas, concepts, hours, minutes and seconds. Human. The consciousness streams forth from the fingers onto the keyboard onto the screen. HOWLING. Get it. Got it. Have fun with it.