Hey. We're back. Three years later.
Bizzare re-reading all my past posts, so many versions of me i barely recognize. But this version of me, a closeted writer only before my own eyes,
The last thing i wrote, i wrote because i met yet again with my shadows, unravelling burried truths. Blindsided by my own mind, i realized i picked out pieces to love— calling it the whole.
contrast. i keep telling myself it's contrast. and the reason for that contrast is to soon reach the light again, turning the shadows only into something to go through, to get over with, to undermine and throw away. light has become the goal, the destination in a map that doesn't exist. light has become the synonym of love, in my current perspective, and i— a nomad. but love, i feel, is neither light nor shadow, love is the eyes with which we navigate contrast— the whole. it is the vessel with which we embark on the journey.
what is 'the journey' anyway?
journey to the whole of who we are?
i thought i was there, finally, but now i realize, i've only ever been in love with my light.
as i experience the shadows time and time again, i notice i do with the promise of light returning, never truly accepting that there are things in the dark
that thing in the dark, that thing is me.
currently denying accountability to the declarations i so confidently make.
i love myself; caught off guard, for i didn't know i had conditions.
it exists to expand our vision.
vaporwave
origamiaround
turnnoffyourmind
yousharknotpass
dededos
areudirty
romaincrisis