Having one of those nights
the kind when sleep seems like the only escape
but tomorrow feels just as frightening.

Nothing is ever as it seems.

just when you think you've figured out everything, when you feel the tug of reigns pulling within your grip, that's when the road bends and your footing gives. how odd false security can be. how odd it is that when you finally stop feeling threatened by the world around, the threats begin to grow inside.
control is a word my children will never know.

she tried to close her eyes to the sound. perhaps, just maybe, that physical movement would translate into a disconnection between space and time and cause a break. something. anything. it was wishful thinking, she knew it all too well. her thought had always been wishful. she'd learned to aim low after so many years of wishing. in this moment her greatest wish was for silence. but wasn't it the sound of this silence that was driving her mad? everything had become so convoluted, who could truly know? there was a place she disappeared to at times like these. a memory that was so deeply burned into her flesh that recalling took such little effort she could bring it forward even in the blurriest of chaos. she hated to do it, she hated to fall back to this. yet, sometimes it was the only reminder that she'd ever been a living entity. and in this moment she tried to remember when pain had become the escape.

A couple months ago you asked me why we stopped being friends. i told you the truth, as i understood it then.
but tonight i really uncovered the truth.
the ignorance felt better.

some days words are a waste of time.

insomnia is an odd thing.
it's productive in the most counterproductive of ways.
mine always seems riddled with self-criticism.
doubt.
frustration.
and, yet, things get done. conclusions are reached.
then i blink my eyes
and it's tomorrow.
i think that some nights i'm just afraid of the potential for dreams.
there is a thick grey haze between black and white.

the world spins without stopping, just like the clock.
it's amazing how everything behind disappears when you're walking forward.
only when you stop, turn around
does it creep back into vision
every now and again, when you take a sharp turn
catch a glimpse from the corner of your eye.
nothing chases the earth
she spins...
it's a wonder how bits and pieces remain under the flesh
motivation and fear in their own turn

i've never been this important before.

just sitting here in my room, television on, white noise
mind wanders
lucid.
and i realise, i've got the biggest smile
spread across my face.

and there came a moment when i realized that i no longer wanted to run from my problems.
instead, every last ounce of my existence desired to run at them, head-on, kicking and screaming, wielding an arsenal of lessons learned and mistakes made.
and i wondered. is this growth? is this freedom?
it was my heart that answered. "this is faith. this is confidence. this is the moment when you truly understand: you are worth fighting for."

i turned and faced the sun, letting the heat pass through me.

sometimes, when you navigate by the stars, the days can feel a bit daunting...

and you kissed away the fear...

and unanswerable questions begin to answer themselves. the why's, the how's...
there comes a moment when the mind opens wider than the eyes
and somewhere inside, where darkness reigned, a light sparks
and you realize that this moment could have never been without the pain
and the weight of those sleepless nights
and a million fallen tears
slowly fade into gratitude.

we provide for the universe what we desire to receive
without veils and pretense
only the truest of intentions are rewarded.

when she opened her eyes, nothing happened. nothing changed. the world did not stop, the skies did not fall, there were no ashes, there were no flames. and still she existed. and there she laid, unharmed.

and then something breaks
something inside gives
the ledge falls
and for a moment you are weightless

Last night, for the first time in over a year, I actually laughed in my dreams.
Maybe this is what healing looks like.

Sometimes it just grips you and takes over.
A prison built from within.
You know it will pass, eventually.
But in those moments, it's terrifying.





i haven't left my room today.

I can visualize these words as they pass your lips.

The universe is an interesting beast.

sometimes i look at photos of the life that once was mine.
i can see the holes.

there's a lot i can see these days.

Sometimes I feel like a train.

Solve et coagula.