Apíat XIX

a·vow [uh-vou] verb (used with object) to declare frankly or openly; own; acknowledge; confess; admit. To acknowledge openly, boldly, and unashamedly. I've got no desire to teach anyone anything. I am one amongst many, attempting to understand this beautiful, petrifying experience. All I yearn after is expression. A platform to freely express my disposition, my emotions, my curiosity without having to suffer unforgivable yet inevitable interruptions. Again, I will reiterate what my purpose is not… I do not intend, even less, desire to teach you anything…If what I share you like, take it. Otherwise, leave it. There aren’t any confines, obligations to abide by. Simple. Love&Rawness Above All, Apíat zheyed.tumblr.com "All glory comes from daring to begin."

[goodreadss]

Success is liking yourself, liking what you do, and liking how you do it.

Maya Angelou (via goodreadss)

[avowzhe]

Don't hold me like you want to keep me.

Then I'll never leave. I'll invite myself over and stay the night. Just as I have for the past 5 months you and I have been "broken up." Don't hold me like you want me to stay. So tight your arms around me, Like you long for my skin next yours. Like you rest your head on my arm as you breath in the scent of my skin after a busy days work. Don't hold me like you want me to stay. Like your face touching mine so closely I can almost dream your nightly dreams. I almost cry to your nightly terrors. Don't hold me like you want me to stay. you look for me when I wake up and out of bed in the middle of the night because my chatty mind scared sleep away, Begging me to come back to bed because sleep is not rest without me. Don't hold me like you want me to stay. Because I return to bed. Next to you. Extending my right arm for you to rest your head on. I bring your face to the touch of mine and you inhale my scent into your heart, As your eyes slowly shut leaving the outline of the faintest smile on your cheeks. Don't hold me like you want to keep me when you've made up your mind.

[avowzhe]

Vida,

You are the most precious gift. 

  I’ve stated this plenty of times before, on countless different occasions, within an array of different platforms…because you are. For this, I am eternally gracious to you.

Expressing the extent of my unbounded gratitude seems impossible so I will continue my attempts until my last breath.

I sit here, today, on this tiny balcony. The sun peeping through the leaves is beginning to burn the skin covering my thighs. The soothing breeze sweetly balances the intensity of the heat. 

  (Maxwell’s beauty on repeat:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MykciEjYTVU there is something magical that manifests within me at 0:50-1:19)

    An oversized black mug filled with cool water and an already used  bag of chai black tea sits to the left of me. My cellphone to my right. My lt in between the two. My ipod sits on my laps. 

      Stillness:

  the essence of my existence.

  As fastpaste as I’ve taught myself to be, my true fulfillment lies in stillness.

  The tranquil serenity and peacefulness of the motionless state of the self, a time when I can thoroughly analyze my position in social matters and worldly affairs, as well as recognize and examine my prevailing tendencies/inclinations to further understand my natural disposition. 

I’ve taken the time to walk slow, eat slow, speak slow…easing through my day. 

  It feels heavenly, delightful, divine…

Beautiful.

  I am filled with unfathomable depths of gratefulness.

Thank you.

Love,

Zheyed

[avowzhe]

An Impression of a Feeling

When you’ve experienced it once

Will you

Can you

experience it again

in this life?

Be moved by it again

as you were swayed and rocked and tumbled and…

endlessly and euphorically moved back then 

when you were enveloped in the unparalleled magic of it?

Will you reach euphoria at the thought of it again

and stay awake because the thought of it is your favorite addiction

And the product is a powerless mind trusting love to take charge

And love becomes the subject, your mind has become the object.

Is your mind even capable of such addictive behavior again?

Love,

Will it ever be as terrifying as it was that one lonely single time

Will it ever control my every move that I forget how to walk straight and not tremble when I’m next to him

Will Love ever cause me feel helpless and stagnant because even if it’s not the greatest, it is the only place I yearn to remain

Will I ever fight to end it  all while fighting to keep it, save it, make it the greatest, again?

Will Love ever again be the freest space and 

Will love ever again be the most confining place?

Will it ever fuel me with the unappeasable desire to give, to serve, to take care of

Will it ever torment me with the unattainable need of him

Will it ever give me poetic moons and stars

Will it ever give me promising suns and skies,

poetries and promises I would never doubt, again?

Will the grass ever be as green again and will the tree ever be as strong again and will the rose ever be as fragrant again and will the crack on the sidewalk ever be as interesting again?

[avowzhe]

Ahhhh,

The question is... where is life? Where am I? Where is my mind? Where is my heart? I try to fit as much of my body onto my tiny blue sofa chair. I stretch and fold and fail at fitting all of me into the confines of a space not large enough for my own... ah, for my all. But I try and I fail and as follows, I fail yet I try. I don't know the answers. I make up plans, goals to meet, dreams to dream... but I've no clue. Not a wink of clarity for all I've understood of life is its impermanence. To quote a younger self: Impermanence is the only permanence. Man the Buddhist did have many one things right. I don't feel disheartened by the reality of impermanence. On the contrary, my heart sings and dances to the infinite possibilities of the future self I am yet to meet. All the retrospective epiphanies that will soon bloom... all the self actualizations that will inevitably wither. Ah, what a sweet, sweet thought, is this not? How the human fashions oneself... being simply to cease to be and as follows become anew... almost reborn. Like a seasonal flower; the self blooms, the self withers, and the self blooms... and the self withers. A never ending cycle. But is this not life? For what other can life be if not constant change? Eternal transitions? A continuum of evolvement? Ah, what a sweet, sweet thought, is this not? Almost like the first sip of bourbon on my tongue... I'd assume this is the culprit of my inevitable uncertainty within my seldom certainties. But do I care about this? Do I find it worrisome, to any degree? Truthfully, I'd admit that I've very little fear to feel... on the contrary, I can willfully impart the life it births within my being! Life, what more may you be? Self, who else are you capable of becoming? Ahhh, what a sweet , sweet thought, is this not? Almost like the first sip of bourbon on my tongue... close enough to the burning feeling in my throat.

[avowzhe]

Liminality

And the dreamer dreams to become 

More than its conditioned norm

Yet all it attains is a probable form

So slowly it swallows the vague concept 

Its reality has transformed

Into,

Liminality:

The space that occurs in the ambiguity of being and not being.

Cloudy obscurity, it seems that security has

Withered away stealing the idealized array,

Pertaining to a sequence, a series of steps

Necessary guidance in order to attain

The reality the dreamer managed to refrain

To Herself,

In Her heart because the rest of the world would laugh.

Now the dreamer is transitioning into a realm of inconceivable emotions,

Fueled by undesired devotions

The dreamer cannot contain.

And as follows

The reality of the dream has become a plethora of grays. 

 Nonetheless,

The dream continues to exist,

Though distorted, and improbable for the original to ever be afforded,

it thrives

The dreamer is 

not sure

of how

but 

the dreamer sees it, kind of

and

the dreamer feels it, kind of

and  

the dreamer believes it, kind of.

[avowzhe]

If You Forget Me by Pablo Neruda

"I want you to know one thing. You know how this is: if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch of the slow autumn at my window, if I touch near the fire the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me. Well, now, if little by little you stop loving me I shall stop loving you little by little. If suddenly you forget me do not look for me, for I shall already have forgotten you. If you think it long and mad, the wind of banners that passes through my life, and you decide to leave me at the shore of the heart where I have roots, remember that on that day, at that hour, I shall lift my arms and my roots will set off to seek another land. But if each day, each hour, you feel that you are destined for me with implacable sweetness, if each day a flower climbs up to your lips to seek me, ah my love, ah my own, in me all that fire is repeated, in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten, my love feeds on your love, beloved, and as long as you live it will be in your arms without leaving mine."

[avowzhe]

Impermanence; The Only Permanece

Love blooms... Love withers. The Alpha and The Omega.

[avowzhe]

"Bet on a good horse or keep your money in your pocket."

Rage is his fuel, my mom needs god, me? Well I can say I'm still trying to understand who or what it is i need to motivate myself to continue forth. I'd like to believe that it is my faith in the good will of humanity, despite my inevitable cynic nature, within me resides unarguable faith and hope for the goodness that I know exists within every one of us. I am beginning to believe this truly is what encourages me... of course, it is endlessly challenged. Maybe I romanticize myself far more than I should. Perhaps I romanticize the metaphysical reality of our existence to extremities far from objective truth... and at this thought I stop as I remind myself that it does not matter how accurate my perception and assumption of my motivator and humanity is as this is my life and I can and should only live my life with faith in myself and faith in my fellow humans... for this is the only good faith there exists.

[avowzhe]

Four Roses Playlist

1. Chester French - "Interesting Times" 2. 4 Non-Blondes - "What's Up" 3. Amy Winehouse - "Back to Black" 4. Amy Winehouse- "You Sent Me Flying" 5. Sade - "Cherish the Day" Must always end on a positive one....

[avowzhe]

The Drunken Soul Speaks: more clearly and more loudly in the darkest hours of the day... 6.01.17 @ 2am

Chopin with frozen strawberries and a dash of lime juice... along with #blackeyedpeas hit "Where Is The Love"... pondering life, Human existence, the subjective perspective and all of its idealism and bias opinion... I ask, what truth really is... and what does truth Really look like... and are we even capable of identifying truth when it lies before us? Can we even understand truth? Is our human brain selfless enough? objective enough? Honest enough? Can the self truly become detached of the self's human experience to make the "truthful" judgement? Some days I find wanting myself to be so in fire with my passion that I strike and with counter arguments vanish anyone who challenges me... Other days I want to be sooo middle ground that I'm so cool and calculated that I completely go under radar. Other days I feel ashamed of wanting to ever be middle ground, lukewarm, one leg in one leg out someone. Life is complex. We are complex. I am complex. Multifaceted... multidimensional... a truthful myriad of multiplicity... I tell myself. But is this truth? But is this subjectivism? Is subjectivism to a lie? Or is the truth as equally complex as the individual? Can collective good ever be achieved? And are we ever really fighting for the "greater" good? Or is it that our "greater" good is led by self-interest? "Too young to understand" I'd like to quote and leave it at this. I hope it is in fact true and age will inevitably make me wiser. Alright I'm off to reading Bukowski... somehow his disconsolate tone fills my void-creating queries.

[avowzhe]

[avowzhe]

Goodbye

In some very peculiar way, I’d assume

I wanted this conclusion

All along

And in some peculiar way

In an alternative place

Where I am strong

My cowardliness would not hold me back

From accepting

And at the very bare minimum

Admitting

To my heart

My

Peculiar truth

That in some peculiar way

I have once again

Found peace

And joy

And excitement

Within our conclusion

[avowzhe]

The un-American America

Othering has been a key political strategy within Trump's campaign. To paint the other as so different from the self to the point of having the American people believe that there exists insurmountable amount of threat to fear. In other words, othering is a rhetorical device for fear-mongering. As follows, this camapain has exploited specific issues to the point of polarization: creating an us vs them, a good vs evil in which unsurprisingly the "American" people symbolize the good and all others symbolize the evil. (I use quotes because it appears that the American people Trumps campaign 'fights to protect' has a very particular look that many of the American people I've met, do not fit) Makes sense why majority of those I've encountered feel such patriotism when defending Trumps agenda and become terribly defensive when told they are more likely to be killed by their own furniture then to suffer a terrorist attack. (Based on expert risk analyst research: 1 in 20 million chance that you will meet your doom in a terrorist attack. You're more likely to drown in your bathtub or a car accident than to suffer a terrorist attack). Another thought comes to mind: Darwinism. It's been achingly present in my mind since yesterday while watching The Founder (a pitiful triumphant biopic that broke my idealistic heart). In order to achieve whatever we deem important, riches or in this case a false sense of "safety", we are willing to inflict harm, pain, chaos, and potentially throw people into the hands of death simply to attain that which we deem significant... the game of survival of the fittest. My heart aches at this thought and at this reality which is what has driven our capitalist nation forth. 💔 Humans, we are more alike than we will ever be different. If only we could remember this. I understand, too many thoughts into one inconclusive caption (if we may even consider this a caption). Perhaps one of these days I'll elaborate. I'd like my concluding line to be an optimistic/sincere one, my heart jumps and rejoices at the immediate action taken by our American people to stand in protest and solidarity demonstrating our unwillingness to allow such inhumane ban from moving forth. TOGETHER WE WILL ALWAYS STAND ❤️💛💚💙💜🖤

[avowzhe]

Master Plan

Life doesn’t have to “have” meaning… it’s one thing I’ve repeatedly learned.

Occurrences, occurrences… occur for no “rhyme or reason” other than to Occur… perhaps times and memoirs and stories we will one day be able to Share,

Impart to our loved ones… that is all.

Perhaps the lessons  are for another to learn.

Perhaps they are correct when they said, “The Master works in mysterious ways”.

Perhaps the Plan was never intended to expand today’s self’s ways…

In all matters I give up…

Life is strange and intriguing and above all, promising in its own way…

No need of mystery or planning.

I shall find my way.

And if I ought not to, I shall be okay.

[avowzhe]

"We are all neophytes in Love"

“This thing divorces us from our wits and our dignity. Our purest instincts are undone. We become strangers to ourselves."

What a beautiful idea…

[avowzhe]

I've arrived as fickle as they come.