Obsession

“When you live with voices in your head, you are drawn inextricably to voices outside your head. Very often the voices work to confirm your worst suspicions. Or think of things you could never have imagined! There are only so many hours of the day to hate yourself.” Emma Forrest, Your Voice in My Head
 
templeofdamneds

 Obsession, a compulsive often unreasonable idea or emotion. My obsession is a self imposed attack on my body that’s not only pervasive, but changes it’s angle of assault every 4 -6 months. My mind, whether from a comment, a look, a misunderstood text, or a bad day, will berate me about a particular body feature without mercy. After I became completely obsessed with it, even making unreasonable changes, the area of obsession would change. I’d literally drop all thoughts concerning that body feature or action and begin a new regimen of torture around the next perceived “fault”. This led me to believe that the problems weren’t in my body but in my self-perception and what I perceived others thought of me.  Most of the time what I thought they thought about me was wrong. That “look” that they gave was totally unrelated to who or what I am. My egocentricity caused me to believe that I was the topic of every thought process in those around me. The plain truth? Most of the time no one cares enough to think that long and hard about me. To take the offensive against my renegade thoughts, I knew I had to be happy with my body and refuse to interpret what I believed others where thinking (which likely wasn’t true). I recognized the futility of conforming to a constantly changing standard of appearance and found that happiness with who I am, is the greatest compliment to my being. Holding my head high, I’ll be confident and sure, no matter what I think you think about how I look.

01282012
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The Guise of Faith

“The easy confidence with which I know another man’s religion is folly teaches me to suspect that my own is also.” – Mark Twain

devil inside

lorelainw

Throwing the covers over my seething nature, I burrow beneath religion, hiding who I am. Pops said, “Religion is for the weak”, that may the case, but my reasons are that I’m fucking scared of who I really am. If my soul had a window, I’m sure there’d be a line to watch the horror show. Damn humanity, they love to watch insanity in action, paying millions of dollars to watch all kinds of degradation on the big screen and drooling, lonely, over their computer late at night. I’m sure people I know and haven’t known have stayed around only to see what kind up fucked up shit I’m gonna do or get into next. The guise of church and God is the ultimate facade. I really do believe in God, but I feel like I’m a fake when I act according to my faith, and almost feel like I’ve been duped when I “do good things” not because I want to, but because my beliefs tethered me into obedience. Being good is desirable, but only because I’m scared of whats inside me. I can honestly say that God is real to me and that I try to listen and obey, but (there’s always a but in religion) damn if I don’t feel like it’s a trick. I’m religious not out of love for God, but from fear of who I’ll be if I don’t “obey”. My soul is filled with many violent and revolting perversions, and most of my self destructive behavior comes through that realization. I don’t want to hurt anyone, to cause mayhem and destruction, I don’t want to be what I am. My detractors, the greatest of whom reside in my head, taunt me saying, “how can you write all these hope filled articles about God and His work in your life while being a whole different person inside. Your the ultimate hypocrite.”. It’ll be known when all things are known that my battles where never seen by humanity, and my greatest victory will be to go to the grave without fulfilling the deviant nature that claws at and through my robes of righteousness.

Evaporation –

“Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.” ― Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

uteenwolf
People are becoming an anathema to me. I drift farther away from compassion and concern, wishing to be left alone, weary from the drama that unfolds around me. I’m cutting off communication, slowly, to everyone and everything. My paranoia grows, beat back only by my deepening animosity for the general populace and the abandonment of care. Altruism evaporates, why waste my time being involved in the play by play drama being displayed by the second. I’m so tired of people, so tired of giving, so tired of caring, so tired of empathy. I’ve born the tears of thousands, lost on my knees in prayer, begging my unseen father in heaven to help these itinerants, the foremost of which is my naked and barren essence. I wash away the scabs of never healing wounds with tears that evaporate before they reach the outside. Depression and fear grow in the dark doubt of my soul, one way out I tell myself, just one way. Can you hear me God?
I can’t bear the cries of broken humanity any longer. Failure of my life to help even my family bears witness against me. I deserve to pray for nothing, if I can’t help myself out of this frothing mire of emotions, why call out in the fog to those adrift either by choice or captivity? The wolf chases me, he knows I’m weak, stumbling to get ahead of him. The panting steaming breath he breathes inspires me to run blindly ahead. There’s no help for me in this depression as I spend days fighting to feel happiness in situations where happiness should prosper, watching as it alludes my failing sight and clawing grasp. What would it be like without my festering insidious mind? I’m not my only enemy, there are spirits hungry for the kill that surround and howl. Come close as I gargle my last throttled breath and express my self deprecating disdain for the evil that has become the cancerous me. I don’t want sympathy, but only to realize that as this trees falls alone in the forsaken woods, that you may hear the snap of my aging trunk and know, if only for a short while, that I existed.
First published in Opinions Of Eye

It’s A Long Way Back –

The Edge… there is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over.– Hunter S. Thompson
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“Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before. – Edgar Allan Poe
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butterflist

Its a long way back from the edge of life. I knew when I followed that path to the outer limits of my experience, my emotions raw and excited with newness of knowledge and feeling, that the price for this wonder is the journey back. It’s beautiful on the way to that edge, my soul being easily amazed by pleasures which offer no sure guidance and seduce me with their passion. This excitement is the elixir of madness offered by my wayward senses to lure me beyond the wise and sure. I have recognized the most painful of these experiences are the ones that offer extreme pleasures that lead me away from safety. There are many secrets out on that cliff, many of those secrets are taught on the journey back from the precipice. Run to the edge with reckless abandon, gather your pleasures of knowledge and lust, and know, a price will be paid. I’ll see you on our way back…

Also published in Life As A Human Magazine
Also published in Broowaha citizen newspaper
Also listed on Stumbleupon

First Published in Opinionsofeye.com

12022011

         

The Dust – Apathy exposes your cracks

“Even when I try to stir myself up, I just get irritated because I can’t make anything come out. And in the middle of the night I lie here thinking about all this. If I don’t get back on track somehow, I’m dead, that’s the sense I get. 
There isn’t a single strong emotion inside me.” ― Banana Yoshimoto
 

 

 

You see beauty everywhere, your supposed to be happy. Your not.
You see people laughing, your supposed to be a part. Your not.
You see tears falling, your supposed to feel. Your not.
You see beauty everywhere, your supposed to be happy. Your not.
You see people laughing, your supposed to be a part. Your not.
You see prayers offered, your suppose to do that. Your not.
You see tears falling, your supposed to feel. Your not.
You see life passing, your supposed to do something. Your not.
And worst of all, you just don’t care. I mean you really, really, don’t care. About anything.
It’s death you feel in every little crack of your soul.
Like dust collecting, this death accumulates in the small areas of your life.
But wait you walking dead! Be encouraged!
There’s life again, a spring cleaning as it were, rising from the dust of death in your life.
You must quiet yourself and stop running to the next thing that will numb you.
You must quiet yourself and wait to hear the voice of your maker calling after you.
You must quiet yourself and pray to the one who has the love that will make you whole.
I’ve felt the death that living life can bring, and I’ve felt the arms of my Father,

Those arms have made me strong enough to live and be safe from the dust.

 

Also published in Broowaha Magazine
01082011

Never Forget Me

“I am enough of an artist to draw freely upon my imagination. Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world.”
Albert Einstein

 

fairies-mermaids-and-unicorns
Explore my world, many facets of reality
Explore my world, many inspired moments
Open my palace of imagination
Open my spontaneity of creation
Experience my ride in the heights
Experience my flow of movement
A sound will bring me to you
A breeze will bring me to you

You will never forget me

07012011

Un-circular Reasoning

“We are dying from overthinking. We are slowly killing ourselves by thinking about everything. Think. Think. Think. You can never trust the human mind anyway. It’s a death trap.” – Anthony Hopkins

media

I followed my thought,

I just knew it was true.
It led me down the way,
I loved it straight through.
When I arrived at what
I thought was the end,
it spun me around
to start over again.
So the circle continued,
long day after long day.
My thoughts ran me ragged
They were more than I could pay.
At that moment of decision
confused but now I know,
just because my thoughts lead me,
doesn’t mean I should go.

Also published in: Broowaha

11082011