Quickly now, let's write it all out. I do not wish to sit here in my thoughts much longer. Breathe in. The tide pulls the water in. Breathe out. The waves crash upon the sand.
Breathe like the ocean dear child, for you are one.
phone calls at night tend to be a bad idea, why did you do it
step aside. listen. zone out. let her speak. what does she want us to say?
I'm hungry. I'm tired of talking about this. She exhausts me.
She wants to be seen as human. a person. a friend.
~~~
I have yet to decide if there is something wrong with me. In truth, there must be. A deep, crawling demon within me that screams and rages with intent to hurt and destroy. That can't be normal. And I fear it. I fear the possible origins as being not supernatural, but a product of my imploding mind.
And Holy One, how...who am I?
Odd that I feel I must pose such a question. I am yours. Yet, that fact is difficult to comprehend fully all the time. Some days, I'm amazed and in love. Others, I feel it with horrible indifference. All in all, none of those days grasp onto it and believe. Else it would stick right? My identity would be sealed in stone within me.
Perhaps it's my humanity. The constant balance between holy and unholy, truth and deception. I am yours. It's a fact. But my soul is so caught in this Earthly form that I miss that fact sometimes. That you, the creator and ruler of this Earth, chose me. Love me. Made me. Wants me. And you understand me, even that dark demon part.
gosh I really need to listen more to that ancient paths set before me, where you reside. Perhaps there wouldn't be so many questions if I walked that path so continuously.
~~~
Deep inside, or deep within. What type of being am I? Ocean or cave? Set before me are memories wrapped in lucid colors and dreams that blend in with reality. And there are no boundaries to my presence.
But there is, isn't there? My life does not, nor shall ever, contain those I love. I stick by myself, I stand by myself, and I am alone and am.
I am alone and am.
There is good in that, I suppose.
~~~
I didn't get the job. I thought for sure I had. But I didn't make it to round two. Stellar. Another denial.
Crying won't get you nowhere dear child. Sure, one can feel. But it won't change anything. And you want change. You crave it like it's forbidden. How am I simultaneously moving and at a standstill? Is this what it means to be human? To be a living controversy?
I hate it. I hate it God. Sometimes, and I apologize for this horrible truth, but I hate that I'm human. I do not desire to be you, not in the least. But I wish to be anything but what I am. And perhaps that is playing God.
see? a living controversy.
أنت تقرأ
Unwritten Words
غير روائيSometimes there's too many things to say. Sometimes there's not enough time. Sometimes using a pen can be easier than using my voice. So here are some words. For you. For those I knew. For those that carry me forward. And most importantly, for me.
