Congrats, your next opponent is... you
I have an headache. I dont know if its from the hot of the day, or the way my mind eats itself. I am pissed off. But- how can you "be" pissed off at something, if that "being" is you? I gave myself everything. Not only creating a meticulously curated physical safe-heaven in the scope of my abilities -a home, a strong and handsome protector, a dog, a garden with a lemon tree even (just like I dreamed in my childhood)- , I also learned the ways of how the human mind works both scholarly and esoterically; a lot of unnecessary diplomas just to learn how I can get even better and no- I didn't even stop there even if it took years from me. I dug deeper, faced darkness of my own and fought against the most vile constructs of it, all while beheading my own ego to chose love and light no matter what: and yet,
Here I am.
I have an headache. I dont know if its from the hot of the day, or the way my mind eats itself. I am pissed off. But- how can you "be" pissed off at something, if that "being" is you? I gave myself everything. Not only creating a meticulously curated physical safe-heaven in the scope of my abilities -a home, a strong and handsome protector, a dog, a garden with a lemon tree even (just like I dreamed in my childhood)- , I also learned the ways of how the human mind works both scholarly and esoterically; a lot of unnecessary diplomas just to learn how I can get even better and no- I didn't even stop there even if it took years from me. I dug deeper, faced darkness of my own and fought against the most vile constructs of it, all while beheading my own ego to chose love and light no matter what: and yet,
Here I am.
Yielding after I fought so hard to heal and simply exist just as "me", I had to write because there is no ease in simplicity if you have this.. thing. I dont know how to name it: That means I now have to excavate the part of me which I buried in the deepest layer of my mental dirt because it was leaking radiation -a force that is dark, invisible, mutative- and I cannot let it kill my loved ones even though holding it inside makes me extremely sick. A double edged sword that either way my palms will be cut by. I know I should only just fucking write without whining but this is something deeper and I have every right to whine if its out of my will. How can I explain.. Its like a calling from universe, no, more like a wheel of unfortune, except, it knocks harder and louder every second that I dont open the door: and I have been fighting my own hand not to touch the knob even, for almost ten years. Or, I want to romanticize it like an external, surreal calling because I can't bear the fact that my own mind claws me like this after I relied on it and trusted its strength above everything else. Imagine the consecutive decibels of each knock, fracturing all the renovated infrastructure already slightly unstable from earlier experiences. The cracks were always there, I only painted white over them and maybe filled some big holes with imaginary plaster to create a home out of this broken mind-shack but… the tectonic plates of my unyielding creative lava created relentless shakes on the surface of my consciousness and eventually tilted it like Pisa tower. I tried to delay the ruin of my own mental by holding the walls by side with my bare hands but none mattered. You cannot out-smart an earthquake if all you have is some… plaster.
