Sometimes I’m convinced
my face is made out of the iron armor
soldiers wear at war;
for every inch defers
and protects me
from wounds of swords
that are words.
I’ve been bruised before
and I know I will incur pain in the future
but for now, when my
words have deserted me in my present,
I seek refuge
behind the shield of silence,
and the protection of a face
that only knows how to smile.
There is simply no tax or fare you need to pay for feeling too much.
Feeling too much is like drowning yourself in alcohol you know is not healthy to consume. Feeling too much is the nausea that comes after, curable, but time consuming. Feeling too much is the rent you pay for opening your arms far too wide for someone who does not love you back.
So when I say I feel too much, I need you to know that my insides are tangled up like reels of unbound thread soaked in gravity, raining from the clouds.
There’s a lot of slow, endless falling.
My lonliness is the long lost, abandoned marketplace with empty shops cramped together/ Walls against walls against walls against walls/ Empty vestibules filled with echoes of silence/ We trade emptiness here.
Today I learned that it will hurt a lot to have your own perspective of things. I learned that even though we might see our unique interpretations as something that sets us apart, they also pull us back to believing the illusion that everything we see is exactly what it seems; that there aren’t more parts to a story than the ones we choose to read.
But there are. In a world where every element exists in pairs: night & day, fire & ice, real & virtual, matter & antimatter, perspectives too, occur in more than one ways. I always thought I was capable of looking out of the box that limits me to my opinion, that I could see what someone else might want to take out of the situation.
I was wrong. You never really know.
I learned that a confrontation can help in more ways than it can cause harm. There was a lucid, brilliant clarity, a lightness that I felt about myself as I talked out loud about something that had been pestering me, lingering on in my conscience so ardently.
I am fine, to state my mood in the exact terms. I’m learning how to deal with difficult situations. It is a little hard for first timers like me, but it’s the lesson of a lifetime. I’m trying to keep my emotions in check and not muddle up what I feel and who I am.
So far, this is working out.
Things are changing faster than I thought they would. I hate change; I resist it, I try to stop it the same way insulators try to tame electricity.
Crying became my savior today. It could wring me out of my self hatred, of how much I was suddenly beginning to despise myself. It feels good when your body gets rid of poison. I was holding onto poison inside.
I do not want a confrontation. I’d prefer to run away, as always. Addressing the situation uproots too many seeds that transform into tiny nuclear bombs. In the end, we will be the casualties.
Who am I kidding?
We already are.
Now that I think about it,
I didn’t fall in love with you.
Fall is fast, and instant.
Fall is so quick in it’s circumstance that it’s occurence often becomes unimportant.
No, I didn’t fall.
It was more like descending a hill;
Step by step I lowered myself,
into the valley of loving you.
Towards the surface,
Relentlessly hoping for my feet to touch the ground, expectant;
for you to accept me as I arrive,
for you to love me back.
I had on all the safety equipments,
And a rope to keep me tied as I lowered myself.
For I could falter-
The rope could break, to hasten my descent
I’d find myself on the wrong route.
Life is fragile like that.
Steadiness preceeds disappointment, at times.
I will keep descending forever-
Hoping to draw in closer with each step, Everyday a little more in love with you.
Today was almost reckless. Like a sea wave that wipes away your scribbles in the sand. Pretty scribbles.
I woke up feeling as if something had eroded my happiness away. Somehow, I Won’t Give Up by Jason Mraz was reverbrating within the hollow chamber of my body, bouncing off of my bones. I almost found myself wishing someone would sing it for me. Someday. So I played it on my phone as I lay in bed: warm, externally but cold, internally. My shuffle playlist turned out to be great, so I began to feel better.
I gathered all my notes to finally sit down to study. Studying is hard because focus is not a choice. My mind flutters away like a butterfly, being the non physical entity it is; landing on my past at it’s whim, lurking over my present, with it’s cynical eye turned towards my future. I sit at my desk with the utmost dedication, but my mind fails to comply.
It astonishes me how nothing much changes itself around me, but everyday I wake up feeling a little different. Sometimes, like waking up as a new person. What I feel guides what I do.
But I do not know how to control what I feel.
I Won’t Give Up by Jason Mraz