Month: March 2024

I cry for you. I blamed you for it. I couldn’t cry for me because I wouldn’t for you, but I cry for you. I’ve been so angry towards you, I made myself forget the truth i SAW, I experienced with u, because of what others explained about my world. Their sight blinded my sight and truth about who u are, and who you always were. I was the only one with you, I saw it, and then the last near decade i made myself forget it. I let myself live making u an antagonist. But you never stopped putting me before you, and i just decided that that was u trying to weaken me, to control me, to keep me down. Every saint action, every act of love, i excused and wrote off as malice. Thats how sick i am. I let myself believe lies from others about you, than what I SAW AND LIVED WITH U. But today I remembered what actually happened, and i cry for you. Because no one could ever love someone that much and i don’t deserve that.

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I’m starting to see my threads, and I can see yours too.

We’re all moved by these invisible tracks, and when we’re half aware– we call it God.

Maybe it is.

Recently, I’ve been studying names– what they mean and beyond meaning, what nakshatra is associated with each name.

Before I changed my name, I was under mrigashira.

That constellation is known for searching– and that’s exactly how the first half of my life went.

Then, when I graduated hs, I changed my name to coincidentally, a bharani nakshatra ruled name– my ketu.

I lived out those life themes and am still living them out.

I’m not trying to make my life mean this, this happens to be the only explanation for it. Your own name holds the map to your life.

But even knowing or not knowing, you’ll move on time along those tracks, because everyone does.

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Do you ever look at the person you are and wonder… how? 

How did you become this? 

Doomscrolling online, I saw this wannabe artist create using gravity. 

He suspends in the air, BOTH his canvas and a bucket of paint, and then he drops each— and guess what physics does?

When you attach a paint can to it and drop it in a circular motion, It paints a beautiful pattern.

Not just a beautiful pattern…

A pattern so perfect, our shaky hands could never attempt it…

And somehow, it would result with perfect lines every single time, the paint can only proved it by recording its tracked motion as it fell.

So why is he not an artist? 

Well because I have standards, you buy what you want.

Here’s the point, if physics operates so gently on that canvas and paint can, painting the most perfect patterns til it reaches the end, why do we think we move free of those very same forces?

How are you so certain, somethings not moving you and, does it matter if you move with it or resist? 

Still though, if you could see your canvas you might believe something else made it…. because you’re not much of an artist.

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Hell is a Bedroom 

When are you naked, if not alone? 

The places we withdraw to, we withdraw in. Its like we remake our wombs and bathe in our own fluids to recover from others. 

Is there such a thing as never leaving, what happens when a born person never borns? Never alives? Most people exist, and barely.

If Hell is a bedroom, heaven is outside my house? 

P.S. it’s 333am posting on 3.13.24 holy synchronicity

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Even Spinning, Happens Forward 

Two fingers on my temple call me psychic, but I think I see the sum total of what makes up your life.

Tell me if I’m close.

In YOUR LIFE– There’s the things you avoid and what you do to avoid them. And then there’s the things you want and chase and how you do it.

In between that cycle, you have to figure yourself out too. 

Was I right?

Look, point is you’re never actually stuck. 

Even when you feel stuck in yourself or with yourself, you’re not. Because the person asking the question or feeling the feeling, that’s the person who moves you.

All you have to do is walk the direction it pulls. 

So… keep spinning.

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I’m half lying with that title.

You don’t control events, and to control others– call it what it is, they have to be semi-complicit.

But YOUR life, how it COULD unfold– that is something you CAN shape.

We’re all writers, but most of us– lousy and unoriginal.

YOU WRITE your lifes story.

Deciding it’s trash, makes it so.

Deciding it’s working for you, makes it so.

But why decide?

Dude– you won’t win hating life. No one does.

And trust me, I love the negative, dark energy, me vs the world type shit, but….

it’s really only helpful for survival, not creation.

So if you’re trying to make something new,

to do something different,

to go somewhere you’ve never been,

The only thing to change- is the story you tell yourself.

My world was hostile because that’s all I wanted to see.

I weighed darkness more than light.

And living on some care bear cloud of softness is not what I’m after, but I’m just gonna give Life the middle finger, tell it to FUCK OFF when it’s being a little bitch,

and move like I’m the creator,

Because

I am.

And so are you.

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All things have an end.

But you come from death not creation.

You are from remains.

What’s left after death?

The thing that doesn’t.

You are what you’ve always been, just born again.

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