Tuesday, June 10, 2014

Hello, Let me introduce myself

I am not a professional writer, far from it, in fact, I more than often am highly dependent on spell check, spelling is not my strength, nor is grammar. I considered myself a decent writer, in good days I manage to put together words, phrases that can be somewhat interesting, or perhaps insightful to the very least.

However, I am here today sitting on this desk, typing because I am aiming to begin a journey and I have an urge to be as transparent as possible. I am attempting to do what I have struggled to do for so long, communicate uncensored, unapologetically, and quite frankly stupidly if I have to. I am not interested in phrasing my thoughts and feelings in any way other than honestly, however honestly comes to be. As I write this I am being hypocritical, because it is the honest thing to admit that I have already on several instances made adjustments, rephrased and omitted from my free flowing thoughts. This that I strive for, is a process, I know, because transparency is never genuinely possible in a self conscious individual. Yes I am a self-conscious individual, I am aware that we live in a world of differing perceptions and at times I stop and criticize my own perception and compare my self to others. I am however, motivated by the insightful minds that speak openly and vulnerably, inspiring within me admiration and a desire for liberation.

Liberation, yes liberation.

Liberation from what? What binds me and holds me captive?

If it were that simple to identify than perhaps I would not be writing at this moment, perhaps I would be sitting in a coffee shop with a close dear friend, sharing stories of loss and renewal. Laughing at the comedies of life.

Instead, at this moment I am sitting here, alone.

What brings me here, actually let me rephrase that, what brings me BACK here, as this blog was created sometime ago as a half ass attempt to express my self proclaimed creativity. Well, I am back because I am in need, in great emotional need.

I am currently suffering of heart break, yes heart break. How silly that sounds when I write that.

“Oh you poor girl, you are inflicted with so much pain, having undergone such a traumatic experience!”

“Oh you poor girl, a boy broke your heart.”

Yes, let me be silly, sitting in my silly chair, crying silly tears. Let it be that I am silly, as long as I feel deep silly feelings.

Let be what is, as I do not want to be anything other than what I am. As what I am is never constant, rather always transforming, evolving. Here I present to you, whom ever you are, ME, MYSELF, with all my miserable imperfections, contradictions and nonsensical blabber.

Here I present my heartbreak, and let it take me where it will as I know permanency is an illusion. Loss and restoration, dance endlessly, as one can not be without the other, they are in fact soul mates. This will do for today.

Love eternally and deeply,



An altered heart, forever scarred. 
You took with you my dreams,
the dream where love conquered all.
Days ago I longed for something deep,
depths uncovered, shadows danced, taunted and exhausted.
Now I fight, I am starving but I fight.
I am hollow, with such deep need.
Life has ways, to teach us lessons. 
Life can be cruel, we can be cruel.
Is it weak to admit that I need you so much?
I throw myself on the floor, kick my feet and swing my arms.
I don't want this! I am a little girl shouting refusal.
I don't want this! Don't leave me here broken.

Have you ever seen the face of heart break?
Blood eyes full of anguish, thin pale green skin, veins perturbing,
Swollen tender eye lids weighing down on hollow holes,
Contorted mouth,
Wet face.

Have you ever heard the sound of heartbreak?
Whining agony, cries full of desperate longing,
screeches and whimpered utterances,
pathetic desperation.
How ugly it is to be real,
To reveal real pain.
To feel a deep emptiness that you can not escape.
As if your guts have been pulled out, a heaviness in your chest.
How grotesque is to sink into the darkness of your empty soul,
to cry dry tired tears and feel hate and rage, desperation.

How ugly it is to be real.

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