Confusion of the heart

There are moments when I find myself caught in the cross fire between my heart and my head. I often cant decided weather or not I should listen to the voices in my head telling me what to do, or my heart guiding me in in the direction of possible heart break. I want to follow the direction of my heart, but my head always stops me and poses the question of “what if”

So now when my mind is blank, the thought of the matter at hand will cross my previously calm mind. And suddenly, there’s a sense of panic that overtakes me and I feel uneasy. As if I am stuck with a decision that for one reason or another, my mind can not physically comprehend because my heart will still get in the way.

One way or another, my heart and mind play tricks on each other, but both only have the best of intensions for my own happiness. So there lies the conflict, when is it that I listen to my head, and when do I listen to my heart?

Is it worth the minor lapses of fear and judgment for potential happiness? Or is it that I should disregard both and simply try and play it safe.

Even that question is too grand to answer for myself. So I still remain to question decisions, or simply protect myself from a risk just to avoid the confusion of my heart. I consistently bombard myself with the age old question of “what if?”

But maybe someday, I will listen to the deep feelings being stirred in my heart and follow that, for it could lead me to my greatest potential happiness. Maybe I will rebut the question of “what if?” with “why not?”.

photo credit: https://allpoetry.com/

self-destruct

Why is it so hard to let myself fully fall into a relationship.

I may be passionate about the person and they hold a deep place of significance in my heart, yet I still struggle to let them in and take the walls surrounding my heart down.

I remain guarded, in order to protect the innocence and intensity of love from reaching me. Is it that I am not capable of feeling and accepting it? Or is it I’d rather stay safe and remain living a simple life of independence.

There are many times of questioned that. Where I think, could he be the one I decide to try and dive into love once again with?

But instead, I sabotage it, I turn the passionate feelings off, I shut down…

So why is it that my mind must do this to my heart which longs so deeply for human connection?

Why must there be something that reminds me of the joy I feel when I am a free spirit?

Maybe it is simply that I have not met the person that can match my sense of adventure and unwavering free spirit that can be overwhelming to some.

The problem is, I hurt people with this self destructive behavior of mine even though that is far from my goal.

photo credit: https://unsplash.com/

Racing thoughts

Often at night, I find myself just laying in bed and not being able to shut off my thoughts. There are so many things just racing through my mind. While I lay there, listening to the rain hit the roof of my room, I think about how funny life sometimes is. It can be amazing, you are happy and everything is perfect, and then the next day everything just comes crashing down on you. And when one thing goes wrong suddenly everything starts going wrong and it feels like you are drowning. But then there are those people that just pull you out of that hole. It might take a while to get out, but these people make it so much easier.

Honestly, sometimes you just need someone to listen to you. They don’t even need to say anything. It can feel amazing to just get everything off your chest without being judged for it. And once you make it through rough times you have so much to be proud of. You can reflect back to the times where you were at you lowest and look at yourself and say “I made it through this” and it proves how strong we are as a person.

So I lay in bed, and think about all the things of the past weeks, and I just think about how lucky I am to have people that support me in anything I do.

https://stories.jotform.com/the-art-of-thinking-5-steps-to-improve-your-life-and-business-da3a817903a5

Lost April

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A dove died today and I realized I’d lost April.

It was flying through the air at full force, I think because something was chasing it. It hit the window with a loud bang and fell to the ground below with a much softer sound, feathers swirling all the way down. It left behind a perfect imprint of wings fully splayed as they smacked into the inch-thick glass above my kitchen sink.

So Dad picked up its body and threw it onto the roof for the hawk on the telephone wire to see. If a dove had to die, he said, it might as well provide for something else.

The hawk seemed young to me when it came some minutes later and carried the other bird away. I looked up and tried to see where spring had gone.

It’s hard for me to tell days from other days when the sky is like this, the color of a dead dove and completely still. I can’t remember how many weeks it’s been and today I wrote that it was May.

I looked at the calendar to see that it was the 19th and finally I realized we are in April. An entire month has gone by and to me it’s felt like one very long day.

I’m hoping for blue skies tomorrow.

another diary from the shower

SCENE — 7:00am on MONDAY, JANUARY 2020 in OJAI, CA. SHE WAKES UP IN DISTRESS FROM A LONG AND GLORIOUS SLUMBER.

  1. It is absolutely freezing but it’s only 50 degrees.
  2. This shower should only take five minutes. Jump in, jump out.
  3. I found myself praying earlier this week but I don’t remember why.
  4. I find serenity when I look up at a blue sky underneath an oak tree to see the sun peaking through the branches. It reminds me of home.
  5. Gold is definitely my color.
  6. I can wait another day to wash my hair even though it’s been two weeks since my hair has seen shampoo.
  7. Clouds are still wild to me.
  8. There is another bruise… woah.
  9. My body hates me this week.
  10. I wish I was better at sewing.
  11. I love his song “Call it all for nothing, But I’d rather be nothing to you, Than be a part of something, Of something that I didn’t do”
  12. Periwinkle is an underrated color.
  13. I hope they are okay.
  14. I love that feeling of being completely out of breath after climbing up a mountain and getting to look out at the view = the feeling of accomplishment.
  15. Is she okay?
  16. I cannot be that person for her, I need to be that person for myself.
  17. This soap smells divinneee.
  18. There is nothing better than hot water.
  19. I am really gonna miss her.
  20. Jellyfish have a place in my heart.
  21. How long have I been in here?
  22. I really gotta go.
pinterest.com

The Smell of Rain

Every inhalation of Petrichor,

Every breath I take sitting and watching the teardrop water fall to the ground.

I am calm, grounded, grey.

I can’t describe the smell of rain in scents, only in feelings;

calm: an encompassing blanket wrapped around my shoulders and a companion sitting by my side. We are together, we are in love, we are safe, or at least we think we are in the moment.

brave: walking alone on an empty road. Only thoughts to accompany me. I am strong, I am powerful, I am one with the nature that surrounds me. Fuck the world, society, my responsibilities; I will walk until my legs give out. And when I collapse, my time has come. Like a wild rabbit in the jaws of a wolf.

sad: the sky is crying, so am I. But the sky’s tears feed the earth, maybe mine will too.

solitude: lonely, but lonely is not always bad. Today it’s peaceful, but yesterday it was harrowing . But today it’s peaceful

The smell of rain

One second it drizzles, the next it pours.

Ever changing.

Thunder follows lighting.

A bolt hits a tree, a fire starts

It is only natural.

Some days the rain makes me feel gloomy, somedays it makes me feel safe.

Today I feel thankful.

Thankful for the sun, thankful for the rain, thankful for the world, thankful to feel something.

Thankful for the memories.

The scent of Soaftsoap Milk and Golden Honey reminds me of kindergarten. The scent of petrichor reminds me of a time when things were different.

I can’t go back to kindergarten, but I’m starting to believe that I can go back to being happy.

Here I sit, watching the rain, breathing in the scent;

I feel gloomy like the sky, but I am grounded like the earth. my emotions are ever-changing just like the rain.

I am one day closer to jubilation.

I am breathing in the Petrichor

Image via Pinterest.com

Thoughts from a Balcony

something has changed.

colors are duller

even flowers look sad.

my eyes feel like a melancholy ocean,

and my cheeks the sand; waiting for the waves to rush on to them.

tears have replaced laughing,

smiles feel hollow.

my face has a different complexion,

more pale, more hopeless, less me.

my body feel lethargic, corpulent, and ignominious,

i am rotting from the inside out.

i have lost a part of me; the will to push, the will to continue, the will to strive

and it shows.

things that barely phased me are now barricades.

it’s hard to exist when you feel like you have nothing to live for.

oh me, oh life, oh self… where have you gone?

photo credit: weheartit.com

Poetry Based Off of Songs

The Beautiful & Damned 

The Beautiful,

a delicate rose.

Small and light in a sea of others,

Bright and beautiful,

Photo Credit: defiantart.com

silky-smooth petals,

like a gentle caress.

The Damned.

Crimson red like its fallen petals.

Damned in the colors of rust and blood.

Tainted with thorns,

hidden in the layers of the silk petals.

Sharp and deadly,

Hidden in beauty.


Colorless (Colors – Halsey)

Side note: i wrote this poem for an english assignment where I had to write a poem using words from a song.

You’re colorful like a saturated sunrise.

Glowing with red, orange, and pink,

but like an overflowing sink.

Your colors seep

and it covers me in blue.

The same blue as you.

The blue of your pills, hands, and jeans.

Photo Credit: paintings.pinotspalette.com

The same blue as you,

but unlike the day’s blue sky

and the night’s starry light.

Your blue’s dark,

a starless night,

an empty sight.

And like a black and white book;

Your mind’s the pages,

your thoughts the ink.

And they’re grey just like your dreams.

Your body’s the pages,

tattoos the ink.

But they’re grey, just as you think.

And I rip at every edge of your masterpiece,

but you’re so devoid of color,

you’re colorless.

we make our own waves.

photo credit: images.fineartamerica.com

He told me this:
“I make my own waves.

I make my own waves when
I don’t need to.
I make myself angry when I don’t need to be!
And it’s not good for me,
not good for my health.

I see you do the same thing to yourself.
I think it’s something you inherited,
like it’s genetic, maybe. And I’m sorry.

It has taken me my whole life,
fifty-some years to realize that
I am the only one who can control how I feel,
that it is me, and not other people, who changes
the way I feel.

I see you do this to yourself,
you expect people to think the same way,
and to care and to try the same way that you do.

It’s taken me my whole life
to realize that, and I still
don’t know how to fix it.

If you could learn this now,
so early on in your life,
you’ll be so much better for it.

You’ll be just fine.”

I make my own waves too, sometimes.

But the thing about waves, is that even though they can be destructive, they can also be spectacular.

So, I think that it’s okay to make waves in our lives, but we have to decide which kind they will be.

 

Welcome to My Mind

Welcome, close the door behind you if you would.

Sit down or look around, do as you please, but don’t break anything. Welcome to my mind. I haven’t let many people in here, in fact, only about three, but I don’t want to get into that for now.

This is a quiet place with music you can hear. It’s colorful, mainly with primary colors, aside from the green swooshes that you see flying through at times. That’s my creativity and it usually comes and goes.

Photo Credit: ink361.com

Over here is my bookshelf. You know, I don’t really like to read, I much rather make up stories of my own. God, look how many I’ve written so far! They’re all in here, of course, never on paper. It would probably be a waste of paper, if I’m being real.

Over here is my picture wall. As you can see, it is almost entirely filled up with dogs (they just make for the best pictures). And my friends, of course, all of them or most of them. The good ones, that are still in my life today. The other ones, I threw out. But the good ones, I’ll keep forever.

Oh, don’t look behind that door; that’s where I keep the things I don’t wanna be reminded of. Most of them are just plain embarrassing, but some of them are sad. Well, I have a couple of sad pictures on the wall still, but I think I’ll take them down soon.

And there, in this cabinet, is my motivation. Not much in there, I know, but the stuff that’s in there is good. You’ll see.

Down here, underneath this trap door, of course, are my fears. Please, don’t open it. I’m not in the mood to get them back in there again. Sometimes one of them pop out to say hi and make me worry about stuff, but usually they’re fine down there.

And here, this I’m especially proud of. This is my love. It looks like a pot of flowers, but it’s a lot better because I don’t think it could ever die. If it can, I don’t want to be alive to see it.

You can stay if you want; you can always come back, too. I hope I gave you a good tour and I’m glad you stopped by. Goodbye for now! Hope I’ll get to visit yours too sometime.