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ground zero

the tiles that adorn the ceiling of the coffee shop i am currently sitting in, i believe would look lovely in my bathroom. i would stare at them while i showered and simply think about how the vision initially formed during the sullen hours of my sulking. the moments, though daunting, will come, and if i let them, they will go. there is no need holding onto the feeling that sits in the stomach during those odd times.

Although I know I am not in the same place I was a month ago, let alone last night, the belief has no real substance. it doesn't stem from optimistic roots. it doesnt caress my thoughts of regression as they appear. i just know that im not where i was a month ago. its a limiting realization.

after parading around senselessly, aimlessly, with a shallow heart and a shallow mind, you will ultimately come to a decision on it. sooner or later, your legs give way, you hit the ground. and whether or not you like it, you'll have to accept that you only have a limited number of options and each option has its consequences. fortnunately for you, you get to decide what's worth it and what's not.

there is torment laced between the confines of one option, there lies less torment within another, and then, within the last option, there is a repetitive cycle of a loose, sharp pain quickly followed by the fullest of exhales. each option, regardless of personal belief, will affect everything that surrounds it. there is no escaping that fact.

grief is inevitable. nothing in this life is permanent, everything is temporary, life especially, and the act of prolonging the inevitable will most likely allow the prepositioned pain to sit and fester. imagine a softball pitcher, winding up their arm to achieve maximum speed. the release is inevitable. but the pitcher is the one who decides the impact of the ball hitting the catcher's glove.

Some things are not meant to last longer than the present moment. Some things are made to withstand centuries. sooner or later, the wandering must cease and when it does, choose option c.

#eyeofi #ijah #diary entry #the beginning of the end series

who would i be if i didnt write about love?

i wanted to start partaking more in the practice of meditation, so today i took music and a preroll and sat amongst the clovers and fallen leaves. led zeppelin's "tangerine" was on repeat and it had seemed as if it would rain but nonetheless, i sat and stared at the clouds. the sun would shine through for moments at a time, it's light warming my skin, and i stretched my limbs towards the sky like a flower in bloom. i placed my feet in the grass for a moment or two and closed my eyes. when i opened them, a busy bee flew past my face - it had to have been in a rush. just then i noticed a butterfly in the far-off corner of my backyard and i had remembed the butterfly that crossed paths with me earlier that day - yellow and black wings, it took its time while flying - and i smiled and crossed my legs. i rested one hand on my shin and held the other out in the open.

i've had many an experience with curious butterflies finding a resting place upon my being, so i asked the universe to send a butterfly so we can play together.

i closed my eyes, took a breath and sat still.

i cannot pinpoint the exact number of minutes that had passed but it wasnt long. i remained still, steadied my breathing and stayed patient, knowing the butterfly would soon fly by. i felt a tiny ant on my thigh, i heard the trees rustle above me, still i did not move nor make a sound. it wasnt until i heard the sounds of my mother coming outside that i opened my eyes. i turned to look in her direction and in the corner of my eye, i saw something move. gathering my attention, i turned my head and a monarch with gorgeous wings sat idle by. there, she sat on a blade of grass, but eventually caught flight and flew away.

at first i was stunned, then i smiled. hmm, i thought, a butterfly.

my mother was in the act of walking my dog, captain, when her presence shook me out of my session and she sent him over to sit with me. a playful thing my dog is, and he rightfully won my attention with a quick kiss on the cheek.

we played for a little while i sat and thought to myself:

meditation is the practice of reaching and staying in a higher frequency regardless of outside forces. this is why it is usually practiced in private/uninterrupted sessions, because its easier to reach and maintain higher frequencies when there are no opposing outside forces to rival it. in the act, you are balancing oneself and clearing energy before the peace of stillness can occur.

around 20 minutes pass and i decide my session is over. as i am about to stand, i notice something by my hand - the one that was initially resting on my leg. i would not have noticed it if i wasnt paying attention.

there it was. the smallest thing i've ever seen. a green thing. the tiniest of caterpillars squirming on my blanket below.

i pick it up (regrettably) and i place it on the tip of my finger - the opposite of the one that i expected the butterfly to land on.

i watch in complete amazement as it nibbles at my skin, it bringing a slight tingling sensation where it stands.

there it was. the butterfly i asked for. just not quite how i'd expect it to be.

after watching it for a minute, i decided it had a long journey ahead of it, and i would keep it from it no longer. i placed it on a flower petal of a peach tree that's currently growing outside of my bedroom window. i gave it a blessing, blew it a kiss, and wished it safe travels on it's journey then i turned to take captain back inside.

once inside, i thought about how i asked the universe to send me love and it did. it did. i thought it resided in a lust-riddened sicko freak (i lower my head in remorse), but that's only because i was searching for it. i can wholeheartedly say i was wrong. it was more just lust with the word love spray painted over it in with dark eyes and a hatred for the outside world.

and for hours i've been thinking, had i not been paying attention, like i was with the caterpillar - i would not have noticed the love i asked for. it was not in the stages of its evolution i wished it to be in, but love came when i wasnt looking. love appeared during a rather unpleasant stage of it's evolution, but nonetheless, it appeared. and love was here. and love was here. and love is here. still.

i know i have to set you down and allow you to grow into the butterfly you are meant to become, and i know that when you get your wings, our paths might not cross again (or i might not be paying attention next time around), but for a moment, you were mine and i loved you.

so i shall set you down. i shall give you a blessing and blow you a kiss. and i shall wish you safe travels on your journey. for i asked you to come to me, and you did. you did.

#eyeofi #ijah #diary entry #the beginning of the end series #breakup

alext

"what would jesus do" - a poem by me

they found me weightless, restless

crying on my knees

i was falling half asleep at the altar

while praying for the merciless, the penniless

the riddled with disease

the motherfuckers tryna make a dollar

the clergy heard me stuttering, mumbling

whispering in psalms

singing to the angels from the east

they heard me cursing

conversing for all who’d done me wrong

but never heard a word mentioning me

the clergy asked me for my name

and asked me why I came

i told them i was sorry and couldn’t stay

told them i was losing track of time

and maybe so my mind

but i had the urge to read a verse and pray

they asked for a confession

i told them of a lesson

i learned when i was living life in sin

the clergy wallowed in my loss

then pointed to the cross

i laughed and said its all because of him

for he was weightless, he was restless

he was crying on the floor

when he begged for a different way to die

but i bet the prayer lay forming

for he knew that by morning

his wanting would be worthless in his eyes

so he prayed for the merciless, the penniless, the poor

the destitute

the devils and the such

and i thought to follow suit

then i bid them an adieu

said sorry, but im really in a rush

i looked up at the marbled man

who hung high from his hands

and wiped the wicked tears from my face

then i quickly rose to stand

turned my cheek and then i ran

knowing i’d never go back to that place

but i prayed for the merciless, the penniless

the riddled with disease

the motherfuckers tryna make a dollar

i prayed for the prostitutes, the destitute

the devils and the priests

but for me, i couldnt even bother

CONFESSION

I have a confession. It's very telling and gives a bit of insight into my perception of life and my purpose in it. For context, I must share with you a bit of information about where I am coming from.

Back in 2017 (I believe that's when it was released), Miley Cyrus debuted her first single off her 6th studio album Younger Now, a track titled Malibu. It was a rather shocking aural addition to her discography following her then recent repertoire, but it charted #1 during its first week, and it took the radio by storm.

In that song, there was a lyric - a misheard line, I should say - that at first listen evoked a feeling inside of my body. A mental note. Yes. Finally. Someone said it. Someone finally said it. The line:

I always thought I would sink, so I never swam...

was misinterpreted as:

I always thought I would sing, so I never swam...

This line resonates with my perception of life growing up.

During my childhood, I was bestowed a purpose. It was told to me, accompanied by size 14 combat boots and a loud booming voice. You're gonna sing. It came from my father. I remember standing in my mother's living room, no more than 4 or 5 years old. It was the apartments across from my future elementary school. The apartment with the steep staircase where I fell and broke my glasses. I remember my clothing; I was still in my school uniform. A navy blue shirt underneath a khaki dress. White socks. Hair in multiple ponytails. I remember what he was wearing. A black shirt. Khaki cargo pants. A drink in his hand. You're gonna sing, he said. It was a demand in my eyes. I took it as an absolute.

I carried that throughout life like it was a nametag. Name comma occupation, singer. I had the voice for it. A gift. A talent unmatched. I had the visual. My sisters and I, singing like our lives depended on it. And I had the urge to complete the mission. Do what he said I was created to do. Make my father proud.

With an absolute like that, what sense did it make to dabble in other affairs? Why distract yourself with anything else? There is a calling. It must be done. You're wasting time trying to be a cheerleader; you're a performing artist. You should be practicing with your dad and his band on Monday's like he does. You're wasting time developing a social life. You need to focus on singing. Boys will keep you from reaching the stage; stay away from them. You sing all the time. You sing day and night. Don't forget that singing is your purpose. You don't need a job. You don't need friends. You don't need to get a degree. It's all a waste of time...You're gonna sing.

This was an absolute. A non-negotiable. A literal box of confinement.

And mishearing that line gave me the idea that other people also felt how I felt. I always thought I would sing, so I never swam. I never ventured out into the vast deep. My knowledge of keeping myself afloat never really having a chance to be developed nor exercised. Never learning trades I had an interest in or exploring hobbies I might have enjoyed. What was the point? I was gonna sing. People who sing eventually go on to have yachts. You don't need friends, or a social life, that stuff will come when you're backstage at award shows. While everyone else was at the mall or the movies, I was forced to spend that time practicing instruments I had no interest in and practicing choreography in my bedroom. This led to no social skills at 20. Letting it be known that I wanted a partner. You want a PARTNER? Someone to experience life with? Someone to grow with, someone who cares for you in a non-relative sense? Someone sent to destroy you? You have your sisters, that should be enough. You're gonna sing. This led to me having little to no knowlegde of how to maintain non-familial relationships.

A demand. An absolute. A non-negotiable. A literal box of confinement.

As a child, I felt trapped by the conditioning used to enforce becoming someone I was told to be. Omg is this how Jesus felt?

Aw fuck, now I have to write a think piece on that.

FORGIVENESS IS OVERRATED

To clarify, it truly depends on the situation at hand. And for context, I read that title somewhere on instagram and it made me inhale. I will share my thoughts.

For lack of better terms, I will say that forgiveness is an inside job. Meaning no one outside of yourself could even administer the effort surrounding the act of forgiving. It has to come from you. Time does not heal all wounds, more so allows you to regulate yourself and grow around it. Around it. Think of the wound like a tree. Cut it down and you can see how many years it has grown. Now what if, during its growing period, there was a disturbance in its evolution. Surely, you would be able to see the distubance in its rings. If there was a disturbance during its evolution, do you think the tree would stop growing? Certainly not. It's nature. And in it's nature, it would learn to grow around it. It would regulate itself over a period of time. An exponential bulge in its rings would be substantial but it wouldn't hinder it's overall growth. The tree, by nature, would continue growing and you, by God, will go on to do the same.

There is some poor judgment surrounding the act of forgiving. Some say it must be done to free space in your heart. Others say it's for the best. I say it's bullshit and should only be appointed if the wound itself didn't create a disturbance in your growth. If the end result doesn't make you regret the decision. If the wound isn't still open. If the pain isn't still plastered on the walls of the ones who inflicted it. I say fuck it. No malice - no ill will is immediately condoned by the decision of not forgiving a person or persons who have caused an uproar in your nervous system, meaning you are not permitted to act like an asshole. Though warranted, that defeats the entire purpose of growth. You are simply acting in a disturbed manner. Choosing not to forgive is not equal to authorizing bad behavior in the midst of a hurtful situation. Take a seat or a deep breath, whichever suits you.

I also strongly believe that people who are quick to forgive simply can't wrap their heads around feeling like they've been, in a sense, disturbed. They either can't sit with it or weren't able to truly harp on how they feel during certain situations. Forgiveness can and is often used as a means of avoidance. Maybe during their formative years, to keep the peace, they forgave like it was a handkerchief held out to someone coerced with the common cold. Maybe forgiveness was withheld from them, causing them penitence and self-condemnation, therefore signaling an urge to skip to forgiveness when it was finally their turn. Maybe the shame or the guilt eats at them - people pleasers, y'know? But forgiveness, if unconditional, can sometimes be a transition of power.

I forgive you for stabbing me in the back. No boundaries. No change in behavior. I welcome you to do it again. I forgive you for treating me that way. No change in behavior. Time heals all wounds. Please, do it again. I forgive you for doing something you had no knowledge you were doing. You did not know it would have long-lasting consequences. Neither did I. No mention of the damage. No boundaries. No change in behavior. I forgive you. I let you do it again. Nowhere in those scenarios was there even the slightest mention of how the disturbance actually affected the source, nor the time frame meant for regulating AROUND the disturbance. But all is forgiven.

For my religious folk, the text says be slow to anger and quick to forgive. Blah blah blah. Yes. But forgiveness has more value than some might believe, and it shouldn't be given unless the source itself has not only regulated AND recovered from the disturbance, but is not disturbed as it makes an effort to grow AROUND it. Forgiveness, though often granted at the door, is not a welcome mat.

That is all.

Listen close and listen well

The unhappiness derives from your lack of evolution as a person. There has been no foreseeable growth that has taken place over the course of the last year. There is no difference. That's why there is sorrow in your saliva. You reek of regret.

There's just no doubting it.

The days are the same because you are still the same person that has these issues. Crying over that wasn't even necessary.

It's a money thing, by the way. Remove that factor from your forefront.

serenityprayerr

Picasso's "The Lovers"

I have a framed portrait of Picasso's "The Lovers" in my room, perfectly positioned above the mirror of my vanity. It caught his eye the first time he walked in and many a time after that. Sometimes I would catch him staring at me while I sat at my vanity, and he would play it off, claiming to be staring at the painting. "I'm looking at the lovers," he would say. "I'm looking at the lovers". Little did I know, he meant our reflections in the mirror. He was, indeed, looking at the lovers.

#poetry #diary entry #the beginning of the end series #breakup

quotefeeling

“You deserve to be with somebody who will drive three hours, just to see you for one.”

— Guidelines For Finding Someone Worthwhile

i love sheet music when the page is full and messy and tantalizingly beautiful, it just makes the piece even more exquisite

evastratt

I am a friend to all cats. Yes even the mean ones. They have their reasons.

shisasan

close the gate energetically; your presence is not to be approached casually. only those who know how to honor a temple may enter yours. 🜍 ⟡ ⟢

towerofglass

"What inspiration. All I want is to feel a madman's love. Something higher than a drug could ever get you. I want deranged yearning. Something scarcely found in my time. I want to be someone's muse. I am beauty. I am grace. I am the embodiment of pure love. I exude a sense of passion only found in books. Only explored during lust-ridden daydreams and looks shared on lover's lane. A kiss on my shoulder blade. Calls during the daylight hours. Ageless love. Lust. Eros. Take me for I have always been yours. Have me as I will have you. No one knows how desperately I want to feel. To be seen. To be known. To be touched. Taint me. Make me forget my own name. I will engrave yours in my head for days after. Let me explore you. Explore me. Discover all of my attributes. All of my scars that hold the stories of my past. Run your fingers across my birthmark. Spell your name in my mouth with your tongue. Let me live and let me love. God. Let me live and let me love."

#eyeofi #ijah #diary entry #the beginning of the end series #poetry #breakup

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