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@rachel-primaluce
Read writing from Rachel Clifton on Medium. . Every day, Rachel Clifton and thousands of other voices read, write, and share important stories on Medium.
Hello beautiful people.Â
I’m a real person, too.
I still write and I’m very much alive and I’d love to share this with you.Â
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Hi, is this account still active? Your story and poetry are very inspiring to me.
I rarely post on here, but I am very much alive, well and happy - yes.Â
Thank you. <3
Lol, mate - that really wasn’t cool.
How to get through life: a synopsis
1. Stop taking everything so seriously 2. Laugh more. At yourself, preferably. And at the world in general. Madness is relative. 3. Don’t let yourself expect things from people, but remain curious about and open to what they can give/offer. 4. Don’t give yourself to people who don’t deserve it. 5. Learn to be your own mother, father, lover, best friend. Learn to love yourself, full stop. 6. Learn to trust yourself. It, and you, are all you have. Listen. It’s a cliche, but cliches are cliches for a reason: the answers lie within.
The antidote to shame is share. - R L C
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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New Wave - R L C
How do you fall in love with yourself?
The same way you fall in love with someone else. Acknowledge the bad, embrace the good, and grow.
incoherence is bliss - R L C
Mother's Day: Love is not a Duty
This is a message to the silent ones: the ones who don’t express love with flowers, cards, chocolates or lunches because it doesn’t exist - and to pretend otherwise would debase the very concept of love itself. Love is not a duty; for whilst I was born by you - rendering me a product of you, literally and figuratively - I am grateful for the life I have been given because, not in spite of, the fact that this is not solely of your making. What makes my life worth living is that the path I am forging is of my own shaping; I am grateful not to you for giving me life, although of course that is what matters first and foremost, but to be alive - to be lucky enough to see the world in new eyes. To be free, relatively speaking. It wasn’t always easy; it isn’t always easy. I know this, yet this only affirms my appreciation; I love through pain, not in spite of it. The fact that I am able to love is redemption enough; I was so scared that I wouldn’t be able to, that I wasn’t enough - 'defunct’ and shamed by more than just my shame, but something tangible, something that separated me from others, something that made me different, a 'monster’. Whispers from the underworld. Seen and not heard. I grew up believing what I was told; I was told to distrust what I felt, but no more: the tides have turned.
I do not love you, but I do not have to. Love is not a right, nor a duty; yet nor do I hate you. I am learning, despite everything, to see you with compassion. You are, and were, 'damaged’, too - and in this way I am the lucky one: I can breathe again. I hope one day soon you can do the same.
Fuck this, I'm sad. I'm sad because I want. this is not the waste of expectation but the ache of desire. ironically, you probably think I'm frigid, toying with you, but I'm not or at least, trying not to. It's not in my nature to go out to hurt, to set it upon myself, I'm not that subversive. Contrary to popular belief (because culture shapes people, places, things perception of, being) I'm not interested in (playing) games - at least not like this. Never like this. this is a dull game. this isn't a game at all. I just want but it isn't you; I don't know what or who but I know this and that's enough. More than, even: confronted not with deficit but with mundane realism
R L CÂ
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If the world is a place you don’t belong, fear is somewhere to call home.
retrospect
and these are the moments
I'm in PAIN. I HURT. I ACHE. PRIMAL screaming small s, bigger sigh, no ellipsis just silence I don't want love I want CONNECTION how can you love me if you don't know me how can I love me if I am a stranger danger, and I am scared. hold me. someone, please whatever that means - I'm not sure. I get sad sometimes so sad I don't know how to breathe, I forget, I feel like I'm dying - "sad girl symphony" the breaking of the reverie fuck that 'beautiful tragedy'; this is not your trope, but my reality - have some respect for honesty, if not brutality; all I want is for you to listen to me trust is a whisper, a mystery she says seduce me more than complicit, but active she wants to be to believe faith not in love, nor fate but humanity
R L C
hello hollow I am there is something I can't quite place empty space, time, where do I fit I don't know, understand this all I know is I don't, I hope, I try, despair a slap in the face, buck up, fuck everything and everyone that's ever told you you're not good enough because if you don't, who will? sombre far too fucking sober but that would just make this worse and why am I so sensible, I'm only young, can't I just have FUN what is? tete-a-tete face-to-face I can't escape I try and I fail and I stop trying because trying is futile and I try instead to grit my teeth and learn to live but fuck it's hard and fuck it hurts and I miss something I cannot put into words so I'll say I miss you because it's easier it's not you, it's me I wish it wasn't always ego-centricity is king in this day and age but skin is prison and transcendence is limited and god only knows what where who he is; only god knows if he exists that's why I don't pray: I want certainty I just want to know that I can count on something, somebody beyond me. beyond the hollow of accountability. beyond "this is all there is" beyond the constraints of my - your - our - humanity beyond fuck-up and fuck-with and fuck-you and fuck-me and I just want to be loved, to fucking feel it. that's all there, I said it I put it into words. powerful
R L CÂ
craving, straining, wanting something / someone just to see just to listen "if there's any justice in this world, I would be your man / you would be my girl" possession, regression, protection deficit - the space within which I am lost, and acknowledge myself as such. in which I try to find something to hold, someone to hold me, in which I try to break free. the 'problem' is me - it always has been. but so is, so must be the 'solution' double-sided sticky tape clings indiscriminately I hold my body in both hands not because I can but because I have to; I am afraid of shattering - I will not let myself break. not for you, not for anyone. I am strong not because I want to be, but because I must; I have to be. if I am not, who will be, for me? and so, I am hollow. sometimes. idly by, the ticking of time, restless contemplative, another night alone show me your home and I'll tell you a feeling I don't fit, but I want to, there are gaps I am disjointed, fit through the cracks always half-and-half, yet never quite enough; I can't stay, but I want to someday. I don't know what it what this means but I know what it what this feels like: it hurts. I miss you and I don't even know you. I never did. the hollow realisation occurs amidst the picking up of the pieces welcome to mundane fucking realism
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
(finding) the (in)tangible (or trying to) grapple with your own flesh, your own fear the underbelly of, in your own physicality, grating breaking the desire to be weightless so you don't have to feel
R L C
I think last night was the best night of my life and we didn't even fuck
