I Want to Write

I want to write. I don't mean that I simply want to empty my mind of all the words it carries, I mean true writing. I want more out of this hobby of mine and I want more for it.

I want to draw paintings with my words. I want to create pictures that you can see with your eyes using nothing but generic little letters strung together. I want those letters to dance to a symphony that is the sentences they make and I want them to merge together into a portrait with more dimensions than should be possible. I want all those wordy images to move against each other with the fluidity and grace of dense mercury.

I want my words to feed off each other and become more than mere words. I want them to say more than they were created to say and I want them to scream magic louder than voices were ever meant to scream. I want my words to be art and power intermingled into letters that hit you right in the heart of your soul and make you feel against your will.

I want to write so when you break the lines apart and see what ink made the words you find mind, spirit and soul. I want to write feelings as though they are a language I am explaining to the deaf and blind. I want my words to radiate passion and I want them to ignite inspiration as they burn through and through. I want them to scar their way off the page and I want them to leave irrevocable trace.

I want to write the way writing was meant to be done -I want to write art that inherently imprints change. I want to write. 

Let Go

I learned a while back that whatever we feel, we usually make ourselves feel it. If something feels difficult, yes the world might have played a role in making it feel difficult, but ultimately it's us.

We choose how to perceive things, we choose to hold on to our discomfort and we choose to see the negative among all the positive. The contradictions that we feel we usually bring to ourselves just because we can't let go enough to enjoy what our minds want us to feel and enjoy.

We have these ideas in our heads of who we're supposed to be and what we're supposed to be like. I hate comfort and human contact, I am strong and I should never fall apart, I am this and I am that. We hold on to those ideas so strongly -with everything we have and we bury those parts of us that need and want more.

And then when those tiny little parts that feel oh so much, and are hurting oh so much, and suffocating oh so much finally manage to break to the surface and make themselves known. We're too caught up with who we think we are to let who we really are out.

We find ourselves conflicted and we ask what's wrong, and all that's wrong is that we can't let go. We're in our own way. We can't break free of our ideas to let what is true come out.

But once you realize that's what the matter is, once you understand that you are holding you back, that you're the reason for all the conflict and all the contradictions, then you can slowly begin to unbind all those silly little ties and start letting go enough to feel what you need to feel, however way you need to feel it.

You have the power. The complete and whole power and you can break free of whatever is holding you back and you can finally breathe. All you truly have to do is remember to take a breath and feel the wind in your lungs. All you truly have to do is let go, and inhale. 

I'm Afraid

I'm afraid. 

There, I said it. I put the words down, and I can't take them back. I can't delude myself into thinking it isn't true, and I can't hide in my safe little corners of denial. My fear is real, it is overwhelming and it's threatening to win. 

I'm afraid. Of what? Ask me what I'm not afraid of, that would make a better question. But I will tell you nonetheless. I will write my fears down, and hope that if they slip out through my fingers and into actual words, they might lose some of their strength. Perhaps if I write them down I can win. 

I'm afraid of what might come next. I'm afraid of my own weakness, of my own lack. I'm afraid of not deserving good things, and I'm afraid that I can't handle the bad things I deserve. I'm afraid of not being strong enough. 

I'm afraid that everything I fear will come true, and everything I hope will blow into smoke. I'm afraid of breaking and falling apart, and I'm afraid that this time I won't be able to put the pieces back together. I'm afraid of a shattered mind, and a soul so torn apart there won't be coming back. 

I'm afraid of a future similar to my past. I'm afraid of disappointment. I'm afraid of .. I'm afraid of failure. I'm afraid of being afraid. And I'm afraid that I'll never stop being afraid. I'm afraid that I allowed myself to be so hurt, so broken that fear has etched itself into my cells and integrated itself into who I am. 

Dear God, I'm afraid. I'm afraid grown up fears that can fight their own battles. You can fight away the illogical, but when fear becomes logical, that's when it threatens to win.

I'm afraid. 

That & Those

That laugh that turns into a sob.
Those unshed tears that turn into rocks.
Those unspoken words that bind and lock.

That confusion that turns into loss.
Those loud instincts that turn and toss.
Those restless feelings that turn into chaos.

That strength that turns into dust.
Those ignored pains that refuse to be hushed.
Those soul clenching fears that cannot be crushed.

That laugh that turns into a sob.
Those unshed tears that fall and drop.
Those unspoken words that are free to throb.

That confusion that turns into loss.
Those loud instincts that turn into thoughts.
Those restless feelings that speak and talk.

That strength that can't turn to dust.
Those unignored pains that have been hushed.
Those soul clenching fears -with hope are crushed.

Vortex

There's an emptiness within me. A slow spreading disease that is nothing, working its way inside of me, consuming everything it finds in its path. I can feel it changing me, coloring all my parts in a hue that is a non-color, painting me with it and dipping me in it whole. I can feel it sucking the life, the particles, the positive and the negative out of me, and undoing them until nothing is left but a lack that is absolute.

I am changing. My body, consumed by the emptiness, is turning into nothing but a black hole. A vacuum, a vortex held in an illusion of a person. I can feel it spreading and taking me over, like a venom coursing through my veins and working its way between my cells. How do I stop it? How do you stop nature from taking its course? How do you reverse what has already begun?

I am frightened. The vacuum slowly begins to pull the people surrounding me into itself. It tries to draw them into the emptiness. To infect them with what I am. I keep trying to keep it locked and safe so it has nothing to consume except me -except itself. But how do you keep people from getting pulled into a vortex when they keep reaching into the emptiness? How can you keep them safe when they won't step away from the edge?

I wish I knew. All I know is I am losing my battle. The black hole has nearly sucked me into myself whole, my particles are gone and I am a non-color. I can see people being pulled by the vortex that is me, and I want to save them. But how can you save others when you couldn't save yourself? How can you save others when the danger is yourself? It's simple.. You try, but ultimately, you can't, and you don't. 

The Simple Things

I love walking. I love that I have legs and a body that can keep up with how much my brain needs us to walk. I love running as fast as my too slow legs can take me, and feeling the wind in my hair and leaving my worries in my trail. I love feeling my heart pulsing in every inch of my body, and for those few minutes feeling alive and beating.

I love that I can enjoy my own company. I love that being alone doesn't scare me, that I crave spending time away from the world more than I crave being with it. I love being in my own little bubble, away from the pull of everyone around me and feeling unbound and safe. I love hearing my own thoughts as I breathe in silence, and seeing the images of my mind as I revel in the darkness.

I love reading. I love that I have an imagination that allows me to create worlds out of books and to live in them. I love how engrossing a book can be, and how willing I am to let go of reality and surrender to the beauty of fiction. I love that I don't need a ritual to read, all I need is a book and my mind and I am gone. I love that I can read for hours on end no matter where I am, or what surrounds me.

I love that I can smile. I love that no matter how much my brain is weeping inside, I can always find it in me to smile and laugh. I love that tears and worries don't break me, and that I can always chase them away with a happy thought. I love that I have enough positivity in me to outbalance all the negative, and I love that when I feel like screaming I can smile instead.

I love that I rarely get bored. I love that I love picking up new skills. I love that I am independent. I love that I am fully self-serviceable and functional. I love that I have amazing family and friends. I love that I can be as evil as I am nice. I love that I am ocpd, and I love that I can control it. I love that I can list so many small things that I love about myself and my life. I love that I can probably go on listing forever.

You have to appreciate what God has given you. It's the simple things that we take most for granted, and they are the things that truly make or break us. Sometimes you just need to stop and appreciate all the things you have, and smile to yourself and let the words el 7amdlillah come out honest and true from deep inside of you. El 7amdlillah. 

Stirring of the Soul

I feel inadequate. I feel like my life, who I am, everything that I love about myself is wasting away instead of being put to use. I feel a strong urge, no, a need, a primal basic need to become something of importance, to leave an imprint in this world, to influence change, to be heard, to be somebody.

I feel frustrated and mad and sad that I am stuck where I am, shackled to this point in time and space and life. I feel.. I feel nostalgic for something I never had, and for half-forgotten dreams that loom broken in my subconscious waiting for something, but what? I don't know.

I feel like I am missing out on my own destiny. Like every cell in my body knows that I am meant to have a voice that ripples through this world, that I was made for a greater purpose, that I was created to make a difference but I am not and my body, my cells, my very soul ache for that destiny.

I feel impatient for this plateau to pass and for me to reach those heights I am meant to reach. I feel smothered by myself, like a part of me is holding the rest of me back and I don't know how to let go and break free -I don't know how to fly even though I was born with wings.

I feel that and so much more, and it is always triggered by stories of great people and inspiring events. Like being in close proximity to such things gives my soul a brief flash, a tiny reminder that this is what you were created for. And in return my soul writhes and twists, agonizing over being hidden away from our destiny. But that is ok, it's ok to pine after greatness. If what you see doesn't affect you in any way then are you truly living? If being in the presence of greatness doesn't make your mind itch for change then are you truly ever present?

I wish so much that I could find it in me to get unstuck. I wish I had the creativity, the genius to move along and start living my fate. I wish I could fast forward to that future I miss so much, and my nostalgic soul could finally rest knowing I am doing what I was meant to do, I am who I was always meant to be. I wish so many things but all I can do is wait, bide my time and find it in me to trust that this rut is where I need to be right now, so that tomorrow I can be where my soul needs to be.

The dull ache of all those heavy feelings and desperate wishes is and will always be a part of who I am, burning through me like a gentle, constant reminder that this lost, shackled and voiceless girl will grow up and leave her mark.

2013