friends

simple nights with simple friends doing simple things.
thanks for reminding me why I used to feel this way.

role models

are only good if you're still yourself.

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

some days i feel unchanging.

or stuck.

today for example.

i feel old.

older then my age.

in a unsatisfying way.

or somedays

i simply feel

crowded

and unloving

i find it hard

to truely like

anything.

i feel like i have a wall.

or a heavy surface.

and i hate it.

no one can simply break it.

even those who could before.

i dont budge.

as much i want to.

i cant let myself feel anything.

towards anyone.

i think im a broken bone.

or a scar tissue.

how they get torn and broken over time.

and they come back stronger then before.

larger and less frail.

less likely to be broken again.

but i dont want to be numb.

i miss being feeble.

shifting.

willing.

amicable.

stupid gloomy day

this day is making negative progress.

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hi kevin

hello

today i discovered something important.

i figured out i am a wonderful complex beautiful creature. i'm an intricate design in the artwork of life and a dancing bird of paradise in a gloomy grey world. i’m the light at the end of the tunnels and I’m the bumble bees and the butterflies in flower beds of yellow and blue. I’m brighter then the sun and I’m the holes in the dark paper that allows the stars to shine in the night sky. I’m the piano in the empty stage with noises that fill the air and I’m the dust dancing in the musty lights. I’m growing older but I’m not growing up. I’m not afraid of the world; I’m in love with it. I’m the magic that makes fireflies glow and I’m the summer heat that warms them! I’m the grass we lay on and the sky we make pictures with. I’m the ocean we swim in and the jellyfish who dance endlessly. I’m the butterflies in your stomach and the lump in your throat. I’m where the wild things are, I’m the catcher in the rye. I’m enchanted and delightful. Vibrant and glowing. I’m deep purple and bright yellow. Turquoise and lime green.

I’m not giving up. No I’m not letting go. I’m allowing. I’m freeing. I’m taking this away and I’m giving it back to me. I’m not dwelling, I’m enabling. I’m not unloving, I’m loving myself. I’m not closing doors, I’m opening the windows. I’m not missing out, I’m giving myself back all the things I deserve. I’m not taking the easy way out, I’m falling in love with myself again and doing all the things you wouldn’t let me. I’m dreaming with a broken heart. I’m allowing myself to have a simple, happy, beautiful morning. And I’m seeing it all the way I was born to be. Without you. Thank you for reminding me. This is the last time I’m thanking you. This is the last time your reminding me too.

I’m believing the best is yet to come.

paintings

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

skin stretched over your bones.

What I love about winter and fall is that you can see the bone structure of the landscape. The trees are not hiding beneath a layer of green or trying to out number the others with its colors and flowers. They are bare and exposed. There’s something beneath it, like a book with an underlying meaning or a subliminal metaphor, the whole story isn't explained. Some is left for you to tell.

However, the cold seems to bring out an incongruous effect in people. While our bodies go numb our minds take the feeling, long lost in our toes and fingers, and our emotions go untamed. Depression, anxiety, and eating disorders all go up as the temperature lapses. You can see the twists and the intricate, obscure, unsolved, twisted branches that make up the skeleton of human existence underneath their patterned and ornate leaves.

Maybe we’re feeling all the things we didn’t while our bodies had sensory overload in summer; with all its colors, sounds, and smells. Aren't our eyes just there to see who can see beyond them? They're just another world interpreting tool. Not the only one. Or maybe we weren’t made to withstand the deadness of winter. Maybe we were meant to fly south with the birds to avoid the grey skies they way they do. Or maybe even dream those days away like a bear. Our skin and our bones we're meant to last through this bleakness if a damn bears wasn't.

But as far as I know, I’m going to live through this winter.

So bundle up your fridged frame & make sure no inch of your skin is showing. Pour something warm down your throat to thaw your stomach. Dream of better days, ones decorated with life and hues. Or wonder if the grey skies and the polar air will allow you to rid yourself of the vanities of life and discover what’s true.

The unadorned and unclothed framework and barebones of life.

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

hour change

no wonder people get depressed in the winter

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]