The Only Revenge Worth Seeking Is Recovery

manifesting destiny through emotional alchemy

[they-them-self-and-i]

They say the mind would be limitless if it were not constantly stuck within its perception of it self

The box of the mind: The limits of your own life experience

Am I capable of separating that bond; seeing my options as limitless instead of focusing on the problem and losing all of my power to manifest and live with intention and joy

Am I brave enough to be more than gentle strength

Can I be my own advocate and an advocate for others knowing what's right often isn't what's comfortable or easy

Can I confront the trauma that happened to me and lean into it and grow from it trust myself more forgive myself and believe my intuition

Can I trust and believe that it is okay and always will be and that okay isn't denial of circumstance it's acknowledgement met with resilience and confidence

I have survived my worst nightmares. I conquered them. I lived through them, and I came out still as loving and caring as I was before they abused me.

They broke me. I shattered; across time and space, but I as a collective whole am capable of recovery capable of creating my own future and my own present by setting an expressing my desires while enforcing my boundaries with the awareness that I deserve love, compassion, and understanding without owing someone an explanation of my trauma

I am more than my trauma so let's find out just who that is and great them with that same compassion and empathy you so easily bestow on others

Let yourself be wrong and make mistakes it's the fastest way to learn. Be open and never regret acts of kindness. You are everything you need to be you are a child of the universe and those reserves are endless and abundant. Have faith that you can actively meet your own needs and be grateful for those that help you achieve those goals.

[they-them-self-and-i]

You are trapped in your broken dysfunctional body and all you can do is scream, cry, and violently twitch dislocating things

All the while watched, judged, threatened to be recorded. Never given props for a good day but always reminded mid episode I’m a failure and failing and this is why you are giving up on me…

That cup of coffee that first smoke is a volcano… my hands shake my voice shouts lies mixed with insecurity’s and fears. It happens. Dishes although plastic for a reason clatter with cups violently into the sink as I lose control again.

I start over. THIS cup of coffee will work… I just have to stop shaking. I shout louder. I cry harder. I fall apart. I have a cup of coffee… but its comfort is absent in the chaos I created.

There’s no chance for apologies I’m already being screamed at for my “abuse” I sit out I stare at my coffee and cry.

[they-them-self-and-i]

Am I the best mess yet?

I need to know

Did I not use to burn with brilliance

Joyously casting dancing lights at your feet…

Did I at least break beautifully?

Was my fate predestined

Or a sick self fulfilling prophecy

I gave what I had

I gave till I had nothing

Still in loving sacrifice I broke myself

Into smaller pieces for you

Telling myself it was strength

Telling myself it was growth

Convincing myself my worth

While fragmented could still shine like diamonds

Just so long as it was you

I don’t know when it ended

Somewhere between I love you

And I thought you wouldn’t care

I cared and I cried

I pleaded and I begged

But at least I know now

Nothing I ever could have given would have been enough

[they-them-self-and-i]

I close the apps

I close the noise

I step out under the full moon

Ignite my enchanted stardust

The moon does not whisper criticisms

The stars do not write insults

The wind wraps me around rustling

Not chilling, embracing

The roar of trains and traffic

Are all that keep me grounded

I swirl with the chaos

I release care and worry

I welcome rest

I welcome what’s next

I welcome it all

While reminding myself gently

Tomorrow is a new day

[they-them-self-and-i]

Scattered like the night sky

I am observed and studied

Am I madness and chaos

Or can you trace my constellations

Find my design instead of my form

I was never meant to be observed in such a manner

You were meant to bask in my light

Not limit yourself to a handful of stars

I am vast and complicated

But I am not without reason

[they-them-self-and-i]

The Death of Art.

When did art become this subculture bullshit?

When did the artisan abandon his tools?

What did the greats do when they faced criticisms and hardship?

Well, half of them tapped out.

Traded their paint brush for a noose or a bottle.

Art isn’t about getting paid.

It’s about getting through the day.

It’s about telling yourself your shitty job is worth it;

Because you have dreams and aspirations.

It’s about making it worth it.

It’s that smile when you see something light hearted.

It’s that car door slamming shut.

It’s the roar of silence that swallows you whole.

Its sleepless nights,

Warm beer,

And hardening paint.

It’s turpinoid on bare skin.

And it’s dust settling in the light.

It’s also a peeling 25 cent sticker at a yard sale.

And you’re left numb and bitter, recounting “When I have fears” by John Keats

Well I have fears.

The greats didn’t know they were great.

They were just scraping and staging paint in a way that momentary soothed their souls.

Maybe it is our failures to connect that force this desire to be understood?

Seen?

To catch a glance,

and just maybe a light hearted smile!

[they-them-self-and-i]

The Narrator

The unraveling thread.

You, are a calculated risk.

Shrapnel, an afterthought, collateral damage.

You, are the forsaken.

Hunted, haunted, the damned soul.

You, are the sacrifice to an angry god,

of man made origins.

The discarded waste of order.

The pruned branch.

The undefined variable,

In an unraveling tapestry of chaos.

You, are the liability.

You, are a kinetic force.

The unruly weapon of uncertainty.

The implicit declaration.

The undefined parameter.

Are you divine? Or anarchy?

Is the evolution its own undoing?

Are you the cancerous growth?

An obscene mutation?

And undocumented alien?

Do you bleed?

Do you dream?

Are your nightmares conscious?

Are you an existential tear?

When you break.

Does she pull you from the wreckage?

Can you be repaired?

Are you still a danger when wrapped

In layers of tangible warmth?

When your hair is tousled?

When your forehead is kissed?

Does it muffle the screams?

Does it distance the pain?

Does history make a record?

Or will time wear it away?

Fate, is what happens between moments.

It is not the telling of the tale.

But the light by which we read.

[they-them-self-and-i]

My head rings with voices both past and present

My demise feels imminent and looming within the darkened clouds surrounding me

Do I even have my own voice?

I thunder. I rage.

I go unheard. I go unseen.

I’ve been searching through the darkness so long pretending these flecks of color are truly luminous

But I am sitting alone amazed at my OWN magic

I conducted every note of comfort and love

Just to awaken to a madhouse of discord

Never enough.

Never sought after.

Now numb and unreachable.

Still you say the storm is my fault

But I’ve pick up an umbrella

And I’ve walked out of distance of earshot

No jealousy just disgust.

No empathy just exhaustion.

Extinguished and discouraged I trudge on

I’m use to the rain now as it soaks and blisters my feet…

I remember just how often I’ve walked alone

And how much I enjoy my own company

[they-them-self-and-i]

Okay I just need to get this OUT of my brain…

Does anyone else have a specific moment they remember so vividly that destroyed your own confidence simply because in THAT second you didn’t own your truth… and then never really had an opportunity to do so ever again???

One of the first days on the job a coworker told me I seemed cool… that I reminded them of someone they use to know… but that person “went crazy and tried to kill themselves.”

I remember wanting to say something and just going quiet instead simply shocked from the bluntness… i lost my best friend to suicide and I live with severe survivors guilt from my own past attempts.

What everyone seems to never consider… is I did not intend to LIVE with the consequences of my actions OR make it THIS far… it’s still a sensitive subject… but I am not ashamed… I’m frustrated I didn’t speak up and defend others along with myself and own my truth

[they-them-self-and-i]

Hello, again, ego shell of mine, what ales you so now?

Why are you afraid of your own reflection...

When just hours before you enjoyed comfort in embracing the idea of letting yourself love you?

You’ve been training yourself for these moments of trial...

And yet at the first glimpse of your own shadow you retreat into the torn remnants of cast off ego deaths

Adorning tattered garments sewn from shame and self loathing and finding it fits so well deserved.

You do not belong here.

Why rest your head against these tombs?

You only spend your nights screaming in madness alone into the silence choking you.

You awaken to the madness and find yourself your own oppressor and are relentless in your own demise.

I carry the torch I never asked to carry

It’s embers dim but it is the darkness I find blinding

It’s weight burns into my chest

Etched into my skin so deeply

My burning scarlet letter

I can not deter

The cost is too high

I must shake off these shadows

Allow myself enlightenment

These embers I must breathe life into

For they are of those who sustained me

One day too my embers will lead someone else’s feet but for now I must watch my footing

I will illuminate my own path

I will meet my reflection

I will not run at the presence of my shadow

I will not rest my head here

There is no rest to be found

So I rise my spirts and endeavor further seeking restraint from my ego

I am flawed

I am broken

AND I am STILL deserving of self love

For that was never the self I loved

[they-them-self-and-i]

Reframe your reference

Usefulness is determined by those who wish to use you

Function and skill is determined by how you are able to meet your needs and express your passions and feel fulfilled

[they-them-self-and-i]

I worry that if I were to become any “more forgiving” my life would be a giant apology.

I won’t let that happen.

You forget so quickly. You are only where you are, because I have continually “temporarily” sacrificed my pursuit of happiness so that you could reach for yours. Not knowing, this was one sided.

Like a fool against a weighted coin… I bet my life… over and over again ever the optimist… perhaps no longer

[they-them-self-and-i]

I have been trying to understand why I am so fearful and hesitant to record myself: mainly I feel extremely uncomfortable taking aloud as if to an audience in an empty room to myself… into a camera

It feels so unauthentic and unreal that I can’t seem to get comfortable with the idea EVEN THOUGH I have so much drive and encouragement to do this project…

I want to make art accessible to everyone make sure everyone feels included…. In a subject that’s so exclusive… I don’t feel like Iv been included in the community so how do I go about encouraging others…

The answer is simple but difficult: do it. Then do it again. Repeat until it feels genuine…. The universal truth about artists is we all want our work to speak for itself and genuinely enjoy the project and care less about “how it is received” we all want to be brave but still fear being given a “F” when we want to be FEARLESS and NOT GIVE AN F

It’s like a never ending cycle of trying to balance while falling forgetting to fly because we are afraid of the hitting the ground

Well let’s remove the gravity and have some fun instead “did you make a mistake? Let’s make them birds… yeah they’re birds now 🖕🏻🎨🖕🏻❤️!!”

xoxoxo K(dash)10

[they-them-self-and-i]

WDYD When you finish writing something with the objective of saying it out loud and taking away it’s power but you can’t even read it without crying

[they-them-self-and-i]

MORE Than Just A Teddy Bear

TFW… you realize something profound in therapy and your just like well FUCK

I was explaining my dreams and how Iv started having the most severe panic attacks about losing my teddy bear which makes me “feel” pretty ridiculous….. then after talking we realized my “teddy bear panic attacks”represents my fear of being denied healthcare and was reinforced by authority figures breaking or causing harm to the people and things I care about…

Looking at my Plush Friend with much more respect now 🥺 ty my friend

[they-them-self-and-i]

Okay… so Iv LIVED art my entire life… it hasn’t always found the right audience or been given a chance to be seen… Iv held back out of fear of judgement… fear of expectations… to the point that I stopped doing art for a while began to hide what I was working on… only show a more professional side of things and I’m just so over all of that… Iv lost the use of my dominant arm and that’s got me WOKE so if you are willing to join me on a journey I’m going to start a new page documenting some of the bad ass work Iv done and I’m not apologizing for any of it so no warnings no bullshit just my art AS WELL as me RELEARNING art with my LEFT HAND if you want to be a part of it like and share and join me in the chaos of loving yourself completely!!! Announcement soon for a new account going to be more selective on personal accounts and relentless on others 🤘🏻🤟🏻 #selflove #recovery #art #artist #disabledartist #relearning #chaos #community #unfiltered #authentic #unapologetic #transenough #🤟🏻 #🏳️‍⚧️ #🏳️‍🌈 #♿️ #woke #lifechangingexperience #nevergiveup #crps #crpsawareness #crpslife https://www.instagram.com/p/CnU6_8_uE59/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[they-them-self-and-i]

Does anyone else have dreams where you aren’t held back by the “physical” aspects of creativity? Where you suddenly in your dream can sit behind a piano and play gorgeous music for hours in your sleep just to wake up yearning to hear it again but having no knowledge of how to actually play a piano?

I do the same with other instruments… I choreograph whole dance routines and performance numbers… to wake up weak and sick and holding so tightly to dreams… that you feel almost grief??