You are a figure with no story behind her
A statue with a movable jaw
spilling years of memories
made by those long gone
Thoughts that carry on
in your tired breath
You wear the mask daily
even though you know
they’ll learn more from your tears
than a text book could ever teach
if you did not know
how to be
or what to say
when you held me close
and thought it was ok
You didn’t ask
and sensed the situation wrong
believing it was right
to hold me so tight
See I’ve been held before my friend
by those who thought taking
was a gift solely for me
unwrapped and unwritten
all within a minute
How could you know
this slate was not clean?
Today I want to talk about strangers.
We live in a world full of strangers. They walk amongst us, thinking all sorts of thoughts and guess what: You’re never going to know what goes on in another person’s head.
Just stop it, right now. Stop thinking that you’ll ever know anything outside of yourself. It’s an impossible feat. A task unworthy of your time and energy. When it really comes down to it, we are all strangers on a train to nowhere. Maybe you think they have got it all figured out. You know who I’m talking about. Them. They. Others. Not you basically.
Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.
Shout it out loud if that helps. The smartest person in the room is the smartest person in the room because you gave them that title. At this current moment in time I work in a profession where everyone is clawing for that title in particular. I sit in the back of every staff meeting watching the birds pick at each other, grasping for worms.
Sometimes, when the moment drifts and their voices mute I can see right through the walls to the trees outside. The wind scrapes against the leaves and wisps by my face with an exciting aura of unpredictability. That’s when I know they have no idea.
I’m back. I smile, and I know what really matters. Me. My thoughts. The mirror that makes me is the one I choose to look at, not the other way around.
As I continue to listen I am no longer afraid of my own voice. My mouth opens. I speak. And it really does not matter what these strangers fucking think of me.
I think the secret to life is defeating your brain. The one you never designed in the first place.
Girl talk is not about what we say to other girls
It is about what we say to ourselves
It is what happens when we see mostly mirrors
and stitch words into our skin
as though we were taught
right from the beginning
to wear the whispers of other people
On my way to meditation class I felt the urge to drive into a tree. On the way home I just wanted to drive.
Some days are like that. It’s like experiencing blindness with too much visual stimulation. Walking around as the ultimate contradiction.
Meditate. Strip it all away. Peel back all the pieces you thought really mattered and stop to feel the ground beneath your feet. Don’t just know that it’s there like some concept you can analyse.
At least once a day, find the truth behind all the ideas.
At least once a day, find some time to find you.
Breathing is easy
exhaling is hard
when the thought of taking the world in again
like a carousel going round and round
makes your head spin so violently
the ground becomes inevitable
-going through the motions
Quitting isn’t easy. Staying isn’t easy either.
One will make you happier tomorrow.
Trees do not symbolise peace
Planting them does
Eat oranges every day and glow. That is all.