Embrace the Chaos

Sanity becomes of processed insanity.

[arcturusmind]

You walk with a kind grace,

racing through the world

at a slow,

smooth,

steady pace.

With my eyes I follow the architecture

of Your face

as Your laugh makes this

my kind of place.

In purple and blue

light shines bright,

emanating from You;

healing;

giving.

You

have seen me

when I could not be seen and

You

have loved me

when I could not be loved and

You have found me

when I was raised

not to be found.

I will give You this life,

for my soul aches for Yours,

intertwined in

spiraling upward flight

as husband

and Wife.

[arcturusmind]

Inhale, wayward soul,

for you are not alone.

The pain you feel will bring new light;

the desperation will tell you what is true.

Follow your feelings, follow your sight,

and know that the sounds you hear

tell no lies.

The mind may fight, but it will lose

as long as you can find the world

as it tries to speak to you.

[arcturusmind]

She walks next to me still,

though I am imperfect.

She finds me when I lose myself,

an angel that transcends the myths.

The leaves return slowly,

pressing out from wood,

straining and daring to be free.

[arcturusmind]

Spring breeze caresses as the cold fades,

gone for months, or years,

for who are we to tell the earth

what it might do?

The forest calls,

where blankets of snow have frozen our feet no more,

and the water yields cool relief

instead of ice in our veins.

I will go there

and find myself where I was meant to be,

an animal that takes not more than he needs

with the privilege

of following striations in our galaxy

as light leaves.

[arcturusmind]

Smoke and mirrors

green buds are interferors

booze for the snooze cruise

I forget who I am

and so does

everyone else.

[arcturusmind]

Death can be alive.

There's a distant man in the mirror, watching himself ruin the relationships with those that deserve not what he brings.

A mirror shows corneas but not soul, a pair of eyes that for awhile seemed to have nothing behind them. No brain, no vision. Only collapse as the door is shut in the black. Fear has taken over, and possessed his body.

Rebirth may come, or it may not. Some fall further and further into darkness. Some drink to forget. Some lie. Many don't make it out alive.

...

I have died twice as I still breathe. I have lost myself in the pools of tar and black ink, clawing and gasping for air as I pulled myself down.

I have become anew twice. Many are not as lucky. When you die and you're seen dead, it always takes time to convince the perceptors that you live again.

...

I can see it burn pure blue for the first time. It lies on the beach of the ocean of my irises, burning with campfire peace. I will never let that flame die. I will fight for it, and work for it, and make it grow.

It will give warmth to others, and only warmth. It will bring the unity of the stars to the soil beneath my feet. It will freshen the air around me as I breathe.

I will bleed. I will cry. I will feel. I will love.

But I will not fear.

[thepowerwithin]

Be who you truly are and you won’t need anyone else to complete you.

Nicole Addison

[0kaey]

[svenson777]

My faustian dilemma.

[arcturusmind]

https://youtu.be/FXUIO5tjtB0

[arcturusmind]

I can choose to grow in wounds, or I can choose to grow in wisdom.

[arcturusmind]

"The only thing we have to fear is fear itself."

FDR

[arcturusmind]

Fear cannot be quieted with fake certainty.

[kiramalibu]

i’ve learned that majority

if not all of us haven’t

healed completely,

we’re just broken pieces

of who we used to be

we’re fixations of the people we

want to be

and maybe i should be content with this

i’m not fixed, but i’m not broken

and that seems to be the only

thing that gives me hope these days

kira malibu

[thoughtkick]

“Close your eyes and imagine the best version of you possible. That’s who you really are, let go of any part of you that doesn’t believe it.”

— C. Assaad

[thoughtkick]

“You can’t stop being afraid by just pretending everything that scares you isn’t there.”

— Michael Marshall

[arcturusmind]

There is no reality in which four months of distortion can be remedied within forty eight hours.

[arcturusmind]

There is no reality in which twenty seven years of distortion can be remedied within four months.

[arcturusmind]

Who is he, the little boy curled in a ball, convulsing and hiding in the black with wide eyes?

What does he think? He feels nothing. He sees nothing. He hears nothing. When others approach he claws out with sharpened nails. He must survive, he must fight.

He cries out often, expelling the energy he coils inside, twisted, wretched, and cold.

Darkness surrounds him. He fears that which he is. He fears that which he has realized. If he gains enough power, he reaches out of soul and into life, pulling back in and drowning men in lack of light.

In the black, others grow distant. The warmth of the sun feels like wilting, drying. The love he once felt is trapped inside and becomes impure, festering and dying. He feared to lose it. He fears to lose everything. He fears the failing, the gasping, the crying. He fears himself.

As he curls tighter, the world is wisped away. He must be pried open. He must be healed.