jeaneth

My song “Dear Friend” is inspired by someone who wanted so badly to show someone how much they cared, but they weren’t sure how. I think in these times we are in we need to be there for each other and show those around us how much we truly care. Sometimes the words don’t come easy to you when you see someone hurting, so here’s a song I hope will help in that. ♥️

There is nothing magical about having to hold a candle for a soul that wallows in their darkness.

The magic comes when someone is patient with you while you put effort into walking out of it. The magic is there when you inspire someone to keep going while they put one foot in front of the other towards what they need. It’s about walking with them through it, but knowing that if they choose to take the path to hell you don’t follow them.

It’s about knowing you can’t change peoples perception of life, you can only show them the good that is here. It’s about accepting that some people will go back to their vomit and it’s not your job to pull them away from it. It’s about realizing that you have come so far in your journey that to help someone who would rather drown is not your responsibility.

I’m not the most transparent person online. I keep quiet about my life. In fact, only a select few people truly know me and know my mental and emotional state of being. But this once I will tell you some of the truth.

There are days it takes everything in me to be present. It takes every bone in my body not to throw away what I’ve been given: LIFE. What it takes to breathe sometimes takes up most of my energy. The thought spirals go on and on until I hate the very thought of my existence.

Sometimes the tears I shed are for the reality I am forced to face everyday. That not everything you ask for comes to pass. You know, because “the world is not a wish granting factory” and God is not a genie who gives you everything you want when you want it. But it’s not just that, it’s the struggle that comes when you are handed a life that breaks you not once, not twice, but a thousand times over. And they say what doesn’t kill you makes you all the more stronger, and perhaps this is true. However, the journey sometimes makes you want to expire prematurely. And sometimes allowing yourself to heal is the greatest of all burdens.

I have to remind myself that I have purpose, even when I see nothing but a meaningless existence where I must wander through. I have to remind myself that there are people who care about me. I have to talk myself into climbing out of the pit I dig for myself day in and day out. The grassy fields of a childhood I do not even remember are laden with thorns and thistles. There are mornings when I wake and this is all I see, I do not turn to the patches of green that have grown in the process it has taken to heal this land. But there are moments when I look to the sun and let it tend to my wounds. I allow it to shine its light into the darkest parts of my soul. I do it because there is still a part of me that likes being here. There’s a fragment of me that accepts when a friend tells me I’ll be okay and that this is not all there is.

I write all this because I must. I write this because if I don’t it will fester and eventually burn out and become another pile of ashes in my soul. I write this because at least once in your life you have felt the loneliness and the magnetic pull of the shadows so much that you have wished they would swallow you up and bury you 6 feet in the dirt.

But all that we have experienced in this life is just confetti. In the end what you do today is enough and what happens tomorrow is for tomorrow to deal with. What has stabbed you in the past is buried with the rest of what has long since died. And if I can be the one person to speak to you and tell you there is still good here, even if it may be a singular crumb, then I will be that One. I will be the whisper that says, ‘You will rise from this rubble and you will turn your face to the sun and begin again’. I will be the arms that hold you and the hands that wipe your tears as you weep after you have tried to quiet your mind with something that would silence all your pain for good.

Because this is not where you end. This is where you begin. I know because I too have wept here. I too have died a thousand deaths. For a thousand deaths we must die so we will become who we were meant to be. For without the dark there is no light. You are not the sum of your suffering but may you become greater than all of it. And when the rains come, you will find you can stand in it and be washed clean from all the dust.

I am not who I was, who I am

Is not who you wished me to be,

Who you thought you saw as me

I am who I am, shaped into something

You cannot even comprehend in your

Minuscule mind, I have gained more than

I have ever lost, I’ve wilted and grown

Into something grander than what

You saw when you first set eyes on me—

I am not who I was, I am more, I am free.

There was a time in my life when how I perceived myself in the eyes of other people was extremely important. I called myself by other names and became something else, someone who ate the fruit of popularity and hoped I would gain something from it. These thoughts linger in the back of my mind to an extent. But slowly the meaning is losing its intensity. Because I see that it doesn’t matter. People will see you how they will. Your reputation will be marred in the eyes of those who only see you as your past self or as whatever their expectations are for you. But they don’t know that who you are now is not who you were then. Who you are is only something you can truly understand. No one can know you the way you know yourself. No one can fully understand your soul because no one can see inside you the way only you can.

Something happened in the midst of this noise and chaos. The walls of the kingdom I built burned to the ground. I was taken back to a previous time when people assumed things and made up an ideal for me. I was the good girl, the one who speaks when spoken to and is always polite, never dares to speak anything controversial. The bright and cheery one who is there for everyone and thinks of everyone but herself. I sunk into that. I disappeared into my innocence and caved when the snakes came to bite. They tore at my soul and left me for the wolves to eat up. But recently, I’ve realized that the ones who chase after you with the intent to tear you down are the ones who are the most broken and the most confused. They know not what they do. They are blind to their own whims.

I used to really hate myself. I didn’t always know it. But I did. Some days I still do. And you don’t see how much you hate until you are met face to face with the demons who haunt you. Some people ignore them until they are consumed by them and they don’t know how to defeat what has now become a part of them. They’re scared of the monster within. But I am not. You have to know what you are capable of to know how to become better than that. It’s the weak ones who don’t understand how corrupt and dangerous they are who fall and become the very thing they sought to destroy.

I’ve learned that just as kingdoms will fall, they can be built up. The walls of this place I’ve wandered have crumbled to dust just as the past must. For the past does not deserve our sentiments, and so I will not stay there.

So who am I now, you might ask? Well, I am becoming who I was always meant to be and the one who owns her name.

I’m cranky, send help.

No I don’t freaking care about the workings of the Paris sewers.

But now that I do I’d like to throw the remains of your corpse there.

Yours,

I walk along

hoping still

knowing today will

end, assured that

a new one

But the fires

burned up the

last of what