Rediscovered.

The ocean beckons me

into her loving arms.

The sky unfolds

copper ribbons and gold.

The wind carries my heart

And your soul.

Ah, your soul

It carries the wind, the ground, the world.

-g.m.

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I remember this quote going something like this, "One of the saddest things, is remembering in time when we were once happy." Do the tears come from us missing it? Nostalgia? Yearning to have happy moments like that again? Or maybe it's not to say that we don't have happy moment's anymore, but to have one's identical to once we hold so dear, is not a possibility. 

I often get mad at myself for being human. For having feelings. For feeling too much for those who don't reciprocate. For having faith in everyone and everything that surrounds me, and zero faith and confidence in myself.  

I've painted a lovely picture. A landscape of how I want the world to perceive me. But the image has been distorted lately. Because what I give to the world, what I show...is rarely ever how I'm feeling. For some reason my mind is weary and filled with loss. What once was soft, and glittering and pure, becomes unsteady and unfamiliar.  What i once held, slips through my fingers. What I once loved, I do not know. The things I held so close, are vast and obscure.

Don't get me wrong. I haven't become a pessimist...

The roots of my soul have feverishly begun to take residence throughout my body, striking every nerve.

I'm asking a few things...in a sea of thought

ive always wondered why people ask for advice, and then never take it. would it be better for them not to ask? and do something stupid on their own? or follow the advice of someone they asked and fuck up on that person's advice? there are so many rules. rules. and things that you have to do.....when a certain situation occurs, there is this specified response for it. a man made response for a situation that has been created by a person. why is that? why can't i act the way i want and respond the way i like? because....because....

it's not all about me. i have to consider the other person's feelings. but when i do consider their feelings, i begin to lose myself. i'm dragged in. easily.....never forced. and by recognizing their feelings, i've forgotten about mine. isn't there a win/win to this? but how can there be compromise when everyone reacts differently to a situation. some prefer to avoid conflict, where others see a "discussion about conflict" as fighting, which i, for one, see as communication. with communication there must come a sense of understanding. i can't understand how one can ignore the situation and pretend it never happened. doesn't that hurt you. doesn't your soul cry out at night, desperately waiting for someone to listen to you? when there's no one to talk to at night, does your soul go prowling at night looking for the stars to give you comfort? 

oh, but i've never seen myself as a beggar. but it's all i do lately. begging you to notice me. to speak to me, to respond to me. to see me. see into me. and i wonder, is this selfish? and i get upset with myself for being so selfish. because it makes that other person feel like she never says the right thing. but what she doesn't know is that there isn't a right or wrong thing to say. just say something. because nothing feels like a gaping hole in my heart being pressed up against the wind. nothing becomes lost between the cosmos and the trees. but i assure you you can make something from nothing. because when you say nothing, i feel like nothing.

the truth of my soul is....i'm a complete moron. i'd share some insight, but i have none. why oh why would i spend all my days analyzing my fucked up actions, when i'm curious about the way you are. i've therapy for that, and i'll sneak a peak at my file when i feel it to be urgent. at this point, there is no sense of urgency. maybe i'm lying. because. the urgency to explain myself presents itself daily. why why why why. why? i see things, i feel things... i could explain it as such: i feel as though my heart has consumed my body, like a tumor, benign of course, and it blurs my vision, my eye vision. if my heart had vision, it would agree with the feelings it holds. well if you're unsure of what i'm talking about. i can accept that. but foolishly i'll continue to try to explain. and so with my heart, crusading through my body, thunderous and turbulent, my mind, my logic, dies before it is born. it's an emotional genocide inside of me. fuck. i can't breathe. i do have exercised induced asthma and all, but the reason for my incapability to breathe is based on the common cold. common. and cruel.

continuing on.

is it fair to say that people misunderstand someone's intentions simply because their actions are out of the norm. is it a human instinct to distrust a person? to not believe in their love? to not believe in all of their truths? because right now, i'm exuding my truths on this page. i could tell you it all, or all that i know to tell. some truths mature later on.  i had a good talk with a friend of mine, who said: i guess it's hard to believe in someone who has interest in being my friend. i often think, what do they want from me? and i replied to her, sad and perplexed. i said i don't want a thing. i want to be your friend. but i think that when you are way too invested in being someone's friend, they become unsure and frightened of your intentions.  and maybe it's a bit of self doubt that we see. when you yourself are at times unsure of who you really are. and then here comes someone who wants to know me? 

because life is exhausting. but it's worth it. to be pushed down. to be burned. to hurt. to feel.

so if i want to be your friend. its for the right reasons. 

the world is (y)ours

my soul, damp at the staircase of your porch

It clings, 

Clings to your scent.

I swam so far, so far

to get to you.

It's afternoon

The wind grows thick

the birds scoop through the sky.

and after moments of wincing at the sky

the tip of my soul makes a sound

and the only elements on earth who understand

are the birds and the sky.

at night, before morning peaks out her head

thousands of fireflies twirl around my heart

bringing warmth and light to it,

as an attempt to revive it.

if you're so lonely

if you're so troubled

look for me.

She doesn't see me.

Noisy world

But for the most part maybe the noise is really in my head. Because when i venture out into the world, into the natural world....there are only sounds. deep, harmonic, and captivating sounds. 

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I'm particularly in love with nature because it is always welcoming. it has a soothing and familiar sound. I'm always overwhelmed with joy when i see or hear or smell something that brings me back. and makes me remember. like the smell of my Grandmother's lipstick. Lipstick. It has a scent. And there's nothing more brilliant than when the trees, and the grass, embrace you. To be remembered. It's saddening to think that trees, something so large and incredible are unnoticed on a daily basis. I assure you each tree notices you. And for me, I think that a tree is just like a person. Living, and yearning to be noticed. A tree is innocent, yet resilient. I've yet to find some striking differences between a tree and myself. 

But oh, how beautiful the world is. There's poetry in all things. Even the things we say we hate.  The beauty clenches my soul. My eyes have never been so lucky to live in a world such as ours.