The Garden

It’s the beginning of yet another week, I know

I know the dark calls to you sometimes

I know you walk down roads you know you shouldn’t

I know you observe your reflection through a jumble of shards

I know you’re worn out, tired of reliving patterns of painful choices

I sense you feel hollow at times

like life is teasing you, dancing in front of you,

but escaping you somehow

i know you live in the disconnect between where you are

and what’s happening outside of you

i know how much it hurts to live there, in the divide

between what you feel you are, and what you wish you could be

The sun has kissed your skin and you have inhaled it with complete trust

and you sometimes move without knowing what’s next

at times it feels paralysing to live with yourself.

I know you’ve worked so hard to control the outcome of your life

that you forget to meet yourself in the quiet and breath yourself full again

that you live in the shallow end and you forget to go deep,

breath deep ujjayi

you forget there is wealth of abundance and trust in you

i know there are places in yourself that you do not love

the parts you wrestle away

you visit them them from time to time, hoping they’re not there

i know you long to live in bliss

and when you arrive there you are so alive as if everything around you

is telling you yes, you’re home.

but i know shadows come while you’re asleep

and drag you down the familiar landscape of fear

I know you wonder if the light will ever return

because you’re tired of this upbeat dance between the two worlds.

you’re learning to taste heaven, grown wings

you’re accepting the difference

between sun soaked mornings and dark forests

you are human my dear and are allowed to be in both places

you are not damaged

you are not failing

you are allowed to be lost in dark rivers

be gentle when doubt comes, when fear chokes

when darkness debilitates you

spend special care to cultivate the garden of love when you come across these dark corridors.

know that you are offered the chance to tend your garden

the dark offers you a chance to love all the places you’d never dare

all the places you curse

where we deprive ourselves of love is where we need it most

when the dark comes , tell it what it what it wants so badly to hear,

You are loved.

How anxiety feels like

He gave me this load to carry

it weighed heavy and left me winded

in my ribcage, my heart ached and slowed

all the while robbing me of my speech

It was several rough hands grappling at my neck

A reality that costed me my libido, my stamina, my cash

doubt was running down my face like sticky mascara

in the face of adversary, I pretend to be everything I’m not

It’s like my shadow was polluting the street

and my hymn was that of a debby downer

on one side life was handing out subtle coloured roses

on my end, I had sunk deep into dung

Cock. Screw. Trigger

eagerly waiting for a mail that ends it all

soon I realise, I can’t serve two masters

I’m left roaming like a wild cat

Today ends and tomorrow begins

but my anxiety stayed constant variable

realising how expensive joy is

even though I answer to it’s call

They said it’ll get easier, it hasn’t but i’m still here

how do you know when you’ve hit rock bottom?

when you can’t estimate the well’s depth?

It’s like a deaf married to a deaf and birthing a deaf child—– no really

That day will come, some day

I’ll forgot the worry lines that creased my brow

the tightening grip on my neck will vanish

the road i chose will become more familiar

Then I will be willing to speak.

Random Gothic Anthem

Crest

I spy with my eyes

An unmistakable whiff of cheap cologne

persists, lingering on my philtrum

grows wider than spaces between lyrical innuendoes

Odysseus walls

somersaulting ruins

I cannot unlearn my inevitable mortality

even if I cried sunshine and peed rainbow

Rose coloured Polaroids

I remember when I used to mope around

Waiting to recover my vitreousness

rummaging the things that have been shipwrecked

Love

Hate

Hate is not an equal to love

I love the things you hate the most

Wring me dry

wring me plaid

stretch me under your adventure boots

as you sail from high to low tides

Stand still

It is quintessence that flows to the brink of surrender

eccentric little goldfinch blushing in pitch darkness

Silence recruits ravens to unearth ethereal promises

Shattered fear

a seed of poison drawn on the lips

Winter colour muse from a sardonic artist’s heart

A brothel couldn’t hide you behind it’s wall of cigarette smoke

Labyrinth

bodies hidden between the corridors and cracks

to be made whole, I must be found

to be found, I must vanish behind a random gothic windowsill

Remember to make yourself whole

“Remember to make yourself whole again”,

That voice so dauntingly vivid says

Remember the trees that cast a shadow on you while you were wounded

Remember the spring that brought fresh water to your heels

Remember the face in the sky that day that looked like a beguiled doe

The Icicles that clung to the roof of a shack that was bastioned by the forest

Everything is just how you remember

It is as clear as a mirror in your mind

But it is in the other side of the mirror that you live

A upside down dimension that is tipping over

This is the reality where everything has changed

Where the sun peaks at midnight and sets at daybreak

Where ashes and splinters are the remains of the tree

The bones in the river lie waste at midday

The faces in the sky, how orgulous they’ve becomee

now that a forest fire has ravaged the botanical lush

Therefore you do not recognise your safe place

the twinkle in your eyes are one of oblivion

You cannot hear the wildlifes jolly prance

You cannot sense sand fall to the bottom of the hour glass

and your body withers along with the surrounding

“Remember to make yourself whole again”,

it’s merely a fleeting whisper now

but on the other side of the mirror there is nothing

No life

No trees

No shack

by now perhaps you’ve started to realise,

that you do not exist too.

Toxic People with Toxic hands

You lost your childhood somewhere at the corner of Cleveland avenue to toxic people with waddling hands. They sunk you deeper into the clouds.

You reappeared here. Waiting.

Waiting for poetry to be read. Waiting for the trees to bear fruits and the seams of summer to sprout at the stems of a sycamore tree. For some reason, that was where you were looking for yourself. For your ego.

That was where your spider senses were leading you. They said it was bad luck to yell your dreams out of the window at daytime. It was toxic even, but you already knew that.

You are not surprised by the storm. You have seen it brewing from a distance. It’s been getting stronger. More acidic like grapefruits being fermented to alcohol. This is how we are, you and me you see.

All your senses know the toxic hands grappling your shinbones. An endogenic heat spurring within you is begging to release your alcoholic nature, but when the night disguises the sun and the days turn bronze, all you are left with are;

Toxic people with toxic hands.

Nevertheless, you are still waiting. All summer-long, you stood still. You feel your torso sink further into the clouds of toxic hands. The trees bleed violet. Your senses melt. You forget the reason you were waiting in the first place because a woman with an oversized ears pointed at you as she poisoned your mind with a toxic snake.

You breath yourself back to stillness. It will be okay now. The sun will shine again at the end of autumn because they can’t take away twice what you’ve already lost once.

The Involuntary experiment

It is not unusual for the internet to give out every once in a while, however I do throw a little bit of tantrum for the first few mins and then grab a book. Normally in just about the time it takes to feel really weird tension about the situation, the internet is back. If the internet outage lasts longer, I would have to practice mindfulness and honestly, who wants to do that?

Last week we had terrible internet service. I’m talking every other day lasting for at least one hour . I felt so dishevelled and uneasy and basically resolved to the most weakest action imaginable, complaining.

And then the situation escalated.

Sundays my routine starts with our fellowship. Lunch thereafter and when we get home I stretch across the bed and read blogposts till I doze off. However, sometime in the early evening of last Sunday, the Internet gave out. Luckily there was a festival in town which I didn’t want to visit but given the lack of internet, I figured by the time we’re back, it’ll be all dandy—- except it wasn’t.

It extended to nearly 3 days. In this period, I went through at least 4 stages of emotions

Impatience

Have you ever seen something you really wanted but it was at the other side of a densely thick glass? My best analogy would be when our dog occasionally meets our bunny . they are separated by a large bunny cage, so the dog begins to whimper and quiver.

He then lashes out and barks. This was me between Sunday evening and Monday. I couldn’t help being bratty which resulted from my impatience.

Fake hopefulness

This is when I got silent partly because my husband spoke to the company and they assured us they were working on the problem. Albeit it was more soothing to hear that other houses with the same internet provider in and around our vicinity was affected too. I know that sounds wrong but I believe it’s also wrong to suffer alone.

This emotion is similar with impatience in that it is ego-driven, that’s why it’s fake. An overgrown ego (and the telecom) telling me that it will be over soon. Except when it’s not, I’m back to square one, complaining. A little unhealthy psychological projection here and there.

Acceptance

By the end of Monday till Tuesday, I had made peace with it. I used my mobile data more knowing that it could finish any moment and I would be in complete amish mode. I came home in the evening and there was still a network interference so I shrugged, watched a series on my phone and slept.

Anxiety

Right in this moment that I’m writing, I feel anxious although I woke up to stable internet service. I’m anxious that It could go off at any time. But more-so that if it does, I will start from stage one all over. I preferred stage 3.

Subject B’s reaction

My man on the hand, kept his composure the entire time and wasn’t once tempted into using his mobile data to watch anything that wasn’t on social media. I want to say that it’s because of the European Championship game. Our tv wasn’t affected. Maybe he would have felt the impact if he couldn’t watch his game, or maybe he’d have gone to a friend’s. Either ways, I never want to find out.

One thing about me is that I feel the emotions projected by people. Yes, tears drizzle down my cheeks while watching movies even though it’s not real. That’s why if he had been upset as I was, I would have been a wreck altogether. His energy kept me calm and brought me to acceptance quicker.

Final notes

On reflection, there were other sub par, hardly distinguishable emotions. Yet these four, I couldn’t ignore even when I tried. I also did learn about patience in these dreadful days. That’s a word that keeps coming to me recently. I feel God trying to force patience into my life.

Thanks for stopping by. Been a minute since I checked up on y’all. I hope you’re having a chill mid-week. Let me know if you’ve ever had to go a day or a week, voluntarily or involuntarily, without internet and how you handled that in the comments below. Chao.

An Introvert’s Handbook

We always have the heartiest laugh

in a room full of people

we adapt to living in the moment

It will be over soon anyways

Battery drained, energy depleted

Just need an hour,

Just need a week

and an empty bottle of elderberry wine

Take the dog for a walk

and do yoga outdoors

when we feel a buzz to explore nature

It could all be so simple

Club music, screaming teens aches the soul’s ears

felt this way since age 22.

Maybe tomorrow. Maybe a month’s gap

“the farther the better” is forever the motto.

ask me to come join you at 9pm

I text back at 8:59

Body feels heavy and my bed’s tucked me in

it’s massaged me with a soothing balm

and pecked me sweet dreams

A day at a time

helps us unravel our insecurities

we’ve sailed through time

stopping at every port of our mind’s evolution

Watching oneself grow without changing

suffocating under knowledge, experience and migration

Running away from a place that feeds off light and innocence

away from the alley of despair and self-abandonment

searching earnestly for peace

but peace finds us on a rainy night

beside our bed with a mug of yogi tea

grooving to jazzy pop and stroking our bunny’s tum

Today we’re bubbly, fun, ready to go

but you’re talking over each other

and I can’t hear myself think

instead I’m absorbing everybody else’s emotion

I’m done before the night’s even begun

Let’s try a do over

at the one place where anxiety has no territory

so long as you don’t move anything

or poke prying questions

I’ll get the Hors d’oeuvre and listen

you sit over there and relish the honor of being invited

into the organized maze of a chaotic mind

This amazing illustration by Yaoyao Ma Van of https://introvertdear.com/news/illustrations-introvert-living-alone/

Today

Today I woke up

to the soft whistle of a hummingbird

serenading me on my window pane

The anaesthesia is waning.

my exhausted joints wrung with pain.

But, I turned on the stereo

Happy thoughts only.

I sprang to my feet

Revived.

 

I went for a stroll, today

my heart was azure, like the sky

the air smelt of pine cones and lilies.

I spilled coffee on my blouse

came down with the flu

my banker told me I was broke

and I got a concussion from a flying ball

 

 

Naive

In the littlest ways,

I exercised the patient I never had

Today was perfect.

 

 

My  temple rests on satin pillow

I saw myself today

Another fitted piece

Tidbits of a congregate picturesque perspective

All that I am,

and all that I am going to be,

knowing enough.