Aug 6
I thought I was coming home only to find out I was already there. Now I don't know where I am and home has become everywhere.
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I thought I was coming home only to find out I was already there. Now I don't know where I am and home has become everywhere.
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 β’ No registration required β’ HD streaming
Things have been busy, even if that's only reading a book and eating cherries. Hope you're all enjoying the summertime! @nearsighted-calliope Thank you for tagging me gorgeous π₯°π and the ever charming and dashing @thischarmingman444 π«ΆπΌβ¨οΈ always including me (I saw it) and my dear friend @persephone-sighed 𧑠no time limits on tag games! π
Music! Seven songs on the summer radar:
Tag! Share some tunes! Have fun and remember, be good or be good at it. βπΌπ«ΆπΌπ€πΌ
Thank you for tagging me, @swiftthefox πΆππ» 5 more songs from childhood... that still get played today... alright, 20s it is!
If you're seeing/hearing this, TAG! You're it! 5 songs from a younger time π€πΌπ
Thank you @thischarmingman444 , @nearsighted-calliope , & @swiftthefox for tagging me for 3 songs in heavy rotation right now π₯° you've brought a smile to my heart! π«ΆπΌπΆπ»
9 songs it is...
Tagging anyone who sees this and wants to play. It's 3 songs practically set to repeat βπΌππ€πΌ
My memories were portals to another time and place. From aromas and odors, to feelings in the pit of my stomach. Thoughts, elations and confusions which arose during certain things said, done, motioned, left out. The way light hit and the shadows made. Curated and collected, all things carefully filed, diligently remembered. Crippling loneliness, fear laden day to day, never right and always too much while nothing at the same time hidden in happy carefree moments. An overlay of personified and isolated perfection; always chasing and hoping. One day, I stopped and sat; silent, resigned, unmoved and unmoving. Eyes wide open sans filters - self made or otherwise.
My memories are now faded and mostly gone.
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 β’ No registration required β’ HD streaming
It felt as though I wanted to be understood for as long as I can remember. Outwardly, it appears as though that want is suddenly gone but this has been a few lifetimes in the making.
The first impossible task was an attempt to understand everything and everyone else -- maybe in doing so I could understand myself more. While accomplished; there is no mastery without the losing of oneself, completely. It is not failure to leave something to itself.
This life I am living is mine not all else's so I gave up wanting to be understood and tuned in to understanding myself, instead.
The rude yet concise fact of how I was (am) written, word for word, in multitudes of therapeutic terms was startling. Suddenly narcmagnet made sense, begrudgingly, it is noticeable when you know what is being looked for. There are posts and articles and blogs and vlogs and podcasts and therapists, both pseudo and accredited, in which I am simply one of many 'eldest daughters' 'child of emotionally and physically absent' 'emotionally neglected, manipulated, abused, sensitive souls' 'cptsd' 'survivor of narcissistic abuse'.
I found myself understood then realized I no longer cared about being so in any particular way if at all. When all was felt, rolled about, and comprehended, there was nothing left to do but throw it away. Nothing I was holding onto held me in return. Once again, I left something...or nothing...to itself.
I began noticing and holding who and what held me kindly in calm trust and care. Spaces where reciprocity is known - not leveraged. Where healthy and toxic are not confused. Holding what feels good like sunshine on my face and heart. What has showed up and proven to be clear and aligned without force, harm, and confusion.
The aches lessen while my head remains high, held and kept there gently by truth, clarity, and love.
To trust the process is to trust yourself, respect yourself, and most importantly, love yourself.
In the Garden; a playlist
feralchaton
hoist us up from anchor's rust. our tongues are heavy, crew of our slight trust bending into sniffing salt-laden winds. our seas, our time. courage wore a simple hat.