Like a taut bundle of wire through my being,
my soul,
the alignment centers...grounds...elevates.
From my niche in the center of Earth,
my cord soars to the heart
of beautifully obstructive satellite.
Veiling Light, Moon accelerates unnoticed life.
My pillar perforates until it again finds Light,
flows toward the nucleus of Sun
and beyond - to the center of center.
Beginning connects present connects end.
Masculine is feminine
and feminine is masculine.
Ancient DNA frightened and enlightened.
Coronal fringes wisp and flutter,
midday twilight and encircling sunset
the only reminders.
Time stops -- no -- time disappears as Sun.
Time doesn't exist.
Time is still -
until the diamond explodes with delightful disappointment
and propulsion to blinding so-called reality.
The infinite two minutes and twenty two seconds again finite.
Energetic bundle still taut but vibrating with higher frequency.
Hastening healing,
Expediting enlightenment,
Intensifying intuition,
Accelerating awareness,
Enhancing empathy,
Flying fearlessly forward.
Heart(break)
It's amazing to me how much of a beating the heart can take. How much it will claw and grasp and squeeze to stop from falling off the edge and tumbling down to shatter into a million pieces. Only to then start putting itself back together, one piece at a time. Most of them in the right place.
My heart has broken a lot over the past couple of years. Yet somehow, it doesn't harden. After it repairs, it lets someone else back in. It takes a risk and lays it all on the line again, only to be denied, slapped out of my outstretched hand, and tumbles to the floor to shatter again.
Being an empath is incredibly painful. I feel other people's pain, yes, but good god, I feel my own pain like a scalding branding iron on my soul. It leaves a scar to remind me each and every time. I'm only 28. I've lost track of the scars...I don't even know how many there are any more, but they remind me of their existence when I need to be reminded.
So. I am single again. I am so tired of mingling. In pain and heartbreak like this, I always think of the lyric "I'm scared to death that there may not be another one like this." You know why? Because there isn't another one like this. There isn't another person just like that heartbreaker. Each soul is different. There will never be another one like this. That loss deserves ample grief.
Spare me the "he doesn't know what he's missing", "there's plenty of fish...", "he'll regret giving you up", "you're a catch, you'll find someone soon." I don't give a fuck. He DOES know what he's missing. We both know how big the ocean is AND how unique each other is. He probably will have some regret, but that sure as hell doesn't make me feel better. I have my own regrets, too. I'll find someone soon...sure. Sure I will. But I want him.
I have something I need to admit to the world. I MAY or MAY NOT be polyamorous. I don't fucking know. With some people I feel more monogamous than with other people. I'm figuring that out on a case-by-case basis now. This flip-flop was hurtful to someone I love and I need him to know how incredibly sorry I am for causing that pain. Please, please forgive me. I am so sorry.
I've learned a new word: demisexual. I don't really like the word, but I've read some insightful interpretations that resonate with me. I'm not "half" sexual like the word would make you believe. But I am taking this word upon myself to mean this: Initial physical attraction is good, very good, and very helpful. In fact, I need a fairly high amount of initial physical attraction. But. But - I cannot have sexual contact with that person until I get to know their soul and their energy better. It makes me a gatekeeper. Whatever, fine. It also makes me easier to take advantage of than I ever knew before. But now that I am owning this, I won't be so easily taken.
Grief. It doesn't have stages. It doesn't have beginnings. It doesn't have endings. Grief comes in moments of so many different forms: denial, anger, sadness, bargaining, depression, acceptance, unacceptable, hard-headedness, compassion, pride...the list goes on. But they are never in an order, and any can show at any time. Feel it. Cry. Wail. Scream.
A soulmate is someone with whom you made a pact before coming to earth. You and this soulmate agreed to teach each other something big. Actually, "big" doesn't cut it. You agreed to teach each other something monumental. These soulmate relationships quite often end in heartbreak. I met a soulmate in February. My heart broke in August. It was fast. It was wonderful. The heartbreak is painful.
My heart is in a million-minus-one pieces this time. This repair will be slow. This repair will be messy. I'll accidentally drop my heart 1,000 Times and have to re-repair sections over and over again. But you know what? It's still soft and open. I am the only one who has the power to harden my heart and I refuse to choose a perpetual hardened state. It'll harden for a few weeks...a few months...while the super glue cures. But I'll be back. Somehow. Somehow....somehow...
Mirror Mirror
"Trust is like a mirror. You can fix it if it's broke, but you can still see the crack in that mother fucking reflection." - SMT
How do you repair a mirror smashed into 64 billion pieces?
I guess the answer is: carefully...and with gloves so you don't cut yourself.
I forgot the gloves in my haste.
Once the mirror smashed, my first reaction was to hurry and put it back together as to see clearly again as soon as possible. But I cut up my hands and bled all over the poorly reconfigured puzzle. I couldn't see any clearer.
Crap. Now I have to re-break it if there's any hope of seeing clearly.
*smash*crash*crunch*
I can't do this again. I quit.
Trust forever betrayed.
Forgiveness never in sight.
Forever bandaging the wounds.
Never healing.
Always hurting.
Always bleeding.
What a mess.
Daemon of The Past
Photo by CodingNinja
Movies portray daemons in so many ways - some crawl, some swoop like ghosts, and some lurk faceless in the shadows. But the worst daemon of them all is The Past - unseen and non palpable.
The Past terrorizes the mind like the ghosts of asylum patients haunt the halls of their former home.
The Past is a liar. It fools you into believing a hologram. It's fake. It's a façade hiding your mind's eye from reality and The Truth.
The Past makes you angry and bitter. It makes you blame everyone...everything...except yourself.
The Past asserts you had no control. It was his fault. It was her fault. If only he didn't do that...if only she didn't say that...then things would be better for ME.
The Past is denial.
But at the same time, The Past is guilt and self-loathing. The Past is worthlessness and hopelessness. The Past digs a pit of shame and throws you in, spiraling toward the invisible bottom.
Photo by brownspoo
The Past enjoys being construed, twisted, and morphed into whatever causes you the most possible pain.
The Past then wants you to awaken its brother daemons in the people around you. Spread the pain and suffering!
The Past is a kidney stone of the mind. The pain is excruciating. It can even feel like you may die.
The Past makes you sadder than you ever thought possible. It makes your tear ducts shrivel. It makes your sleep scarce and strenuous.
Photo by F l S f a h .. ❥
The Past wants to break free and become reality. It will convince you its freedom will be your solace, when in fact, it is your demise.
The Past breaks free with death - your death. The escape from its torture lies in your own hands. You must die to alleviate the depression, pain, and tormenting anxiety The Past inflicts.
Of course this isn't The Truth. The Past destroys hope, butchers faith, and mocks The Truth.
But The Truth knows self eradication will only cause more pain - for your soul and those you leave behind.
Photo by lorrainemd
The Truth may not be pretty, but it's not a big phony like The Past.
The Truth is now.
The Truth is here.
The Truth doesn't dabble with The Past.
The Truth doesn't fiddle with The Future.
The Truth is grace.
The Truth is the escape.
The Truth is happiness.
The Truth is Love.
The Truth is health and healing.