I could call you a beauty, and you would shrug it off, for the world has taught you that ‘beauty’ subscribes to the feminine.
I could call you a gem, and you would shrug it off, for the world has taught you that ‘gem’ subscribes to anything that will get you feminine appreciation.
You, son of man, are a thing to behold.
In you lies beauty, gems and abundance.
In you lies greatness, conviction and chaos…for light and dark are solid.
So, I lie here, watching the rise and fall of your chest…counting days, moments, memories unknown to you.
If I were good with a pencil, I’d sketch you,
I’d curve you using this piece of lead, emboss you on a piece of paper, show you off on a wall, for the world to see.
I do what I can with words, so you reside in them.
You, son of man are a thing to behold, and when you rise to get yourself a glass of water, I see it, the weight of the world on your shoulders, running down your back like The Nile.
It’s the first time we’ve faced each other and my heart’s on my sleeve, my soul frozen in a moment long gone. I do not want this. You can feel it, the tension, the angst, the shards of glass you’re standing on…yet you continue, like it’s a cigarette, once lit, it’s gotta be smoked.
You take a long drag. I fold my knees to my chest. It’s raining outside, the kettle stopped a while ago, I’ll probably spend another evening in the dark. You stretch your hand, try to grasp as many drops of rain…and then shake them off.
I do not want this.
“You are not here, Love. I know, but I had to see you. I know…no, I don’t, and truth is no matter how hard I try, I cannot shake it off. It’s like there is a part of me that is missing and when I couldn’t take it, I just got on the bus and came here. This is a nice cosy place you have.”
I do not want this.
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You shrug your shoulders and continue, “You remind me of Howard Roark. I never wanted to read that book, but you insisted, remember? I cannot shake how symmetrical the author described him, but it’s not just his sheer will or pursuit of his life, it’s how he refused to be conquered. You have refused to be conquered Love, and that scares me…it scares me how you can choose to remove yourself from a situation without a trace of emotion.
How you bleed but there is not one sign of your pain reflected to the world. See, to know you, I have to look for you in between the lines you post on your blog, how sick is that? Even then, I can never truly say that it is truly who you are, you choose which side to show and to whom and for how long…that scares me. So, yesterday, the guys and I were hanging out and Marto asks me, ‘what happened?’ and I couldn’t speak. I knew what to say ‘I messed up,’ but even those three words could not come out of my mouth. I want answers Love, but the questions are not yours to answer and yet I demand them from you, how selfish is that? How is it that I wound you but I am the one who never heals? Look, are you happy here? Have you met someone? Is he good to you? Are you happy? I just need to know, maybe then…I’ll stop going round in circles, killing my lungs hoping to smoke your existence away. I did not come here to give a speech…maybe if I wrote you all this, you would remember every word. Then…you always do, I may even read it on your blog, you are great with words, but greater with pain and I’ve caused you so much pain that in so doing I have wounded myself. I do not want this life Love. I guess, I am sick and tired of paying bills, watching everyone I know have someone to call their own while I let mine go. You don’t have to say anything…you shouldn’t.”
“The lights are back, can I make you some tea or coffee?” I ask…and you shake your head and as my feet touch the floor, I see it…glistening on your cheeks and I know it, because I have been there, not once, not twice, not thrice but seven times Stardust…seven because to count the eighth would be to admit that I let you choose the value you placed upon me.
I walk to the next room, turn the kettle on and stare outside the window. The neighbor’s brown cat saunters into her house, drenched.
I can hear you…and even though my soul is torn, my heart knows not to show mercy, I guess this is what it feels like to be broken.
What I can promise you is that you’ll never die, I guess like every good thing, you’ll live on in my words. You’ll find yourself in between lines on every post I write, because you’re on your way to healing and I will not interfere with your wholeness…for you’ve learned that when you wound the ones you love, you are not spared the pain…this is my testament of love.
Oh, you who chose to stay when everyone including me, left.
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How is it that you smile given what you’ve been through?
How is it that in your scars dwell more light than in mine?
How is it that you who has been shattered dare comfort me, without hurting me?
How?
You smile, oh, Beauty, and say…”I have been through it all, will still endure some more, but the one place I’ve learned to make habitable is my home. I carry my essence, my being, everywhere I go, so no matter what comes my way…I’m always home.”
I come to you like a field of never ending scent that assails your nostrils.
You wander to worlds beyond whenever you behold my countenance.
It’s how you utter these words, like they’re the air you breathe…
It’s how you utter gold and act like dust that astounds me.
One hails from the other, but it’s value is placed higher than that which it hails from.
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I am Lavender, you say…
You want to soak me up, to relish in the presence I offer,
You want to devour me, as much as you can, for though I am Lavender,
I am the wind, I slip through your fingers even when you were unaware of my presence.
So, you churn these thoughts in your mind,
You say and do as you please,
You love and have as much as you can and flee,
Never staying long enough to receive the love you’d given.
It’s you that’s Lavender, it’s you that fills up a room with your scent and leave long before it fills up our nostrils.
It’s you that flees, a gentle breeze like the wind, a benign thought…a soul wandering the realms of this earth, unaware of how much love he’d get if only he stood still.
Years and years before the inception of the alphabet,
These people traveled the skies,
Soared on earth and relished worlds,
“How did they do this?” I asked.
“How did they know where to go without a map?”
“Oh…you silly child,” she said, “they knew because their souls knew where to turn left, right, where to catch a breath, where to lay down their heads and where to sprint.”
“How come?” I asked.
“Well, nowadays you have all these maps, all these signs leading you everywhere but nowhere. You are lost because you do not chart your own path…you strive to be like everyone else and what a sad life you lead…you take pictures to show strangers that you are happy, yet your own soul is unknown to you…all these maps…”
I came across this video on YouTube and clicked ‘play’ so fast you’d have thought my mind needed the fix.
Matt D’Avella shares his experiences, having gone through the journey of reading self-help books, living, working, stressing and yearning to improve the quality of his day-to-day life.
I love a video that goes straight into the topic and can I just add that those ad breaks always make me stop and open another tab to actually get some work done? This video doesn’t have that- and you can subscribe to watch many more of his videos.
So, he shares the following habits which I found quite interesting and I’ll tell you why, let me list them first:
1. Exercise.
2. Eat more veggies.
3. Read.
4. Drink water.
5. Stop buying stuff.
6. Meditate.
7. Build routines.
8. Passion project.
9. Declutter.
10. Journal.
11. Wake up early.
12. Quit social media
Would you say that the habits he shares are practical or can be easily applied to your daily life?
In my mind, I was like “Easy,” I mean- I have done these at some point and especially number two – seems like most of my life given that I do not eat red meat ( and for quite some time now, get an allergic reaction when I try eggs.)
Ever heard of the 5am club by Robin Sharma? I did that in 2018 and then my sleep cycle changed when I changed jobs.
I literally checked off everything including keeping a journal ( for I’ve been doing so since I was 12, and it’s got some great ideas for my writing).
You’d think I’ve got my life all together and truth is I don’t even know if together is anywhere near a description of my life. And I know where I missed the mark, it was in thinking that if I do any of these things once then that’s good- or by treating them like cold medication, and stopping when things seem fine.
I’d love to try being consistent and intentional with the first 11 habits for the next 30 days. I am currently working on success stories for the projects at work- and so, quitting social media would not be ideal at this point, especially when I’ve been put in charge of both Instagram and Facebook content development.
Let’s call this my October plan and see just how much I learn from the journey.
The Fountain Head by Ayn Rand. I find comfort in Howard Roark’s declaration:
2. Pumpkin Carving – what is your favourite creative outlet?
Writing.
3. Falling Leaves – changes that appear bad but you secretly love?
Attending parties. I love large gatherings in doses. When I say doses I mean, it takes me quite a while to get psyched into going out or simply hanging out with people at a large gathering, this sudden change from simply being in my own space to where lots of people expect my attention or are watching me, freaks me out-but I find myself transformed after a while.
4. Pumpkin Spiced Latte – something you love that others tend to judge
I’m with Sara on this one: Staying in. Oh, I’m like a cat, I can sleep for hours and it’s my favorite way of spending the weekend. Going by my response in number 3, let’s just say that I do my best to stay away from social gatherings.
5. Bonfire Night – what makes you explode with joy?
Pencils
6. Fright Night – favourite scary book or film
None. I am not a fan of scary books or films.
7. Halloween candy – favourite thing to eat
Chocolate cake
8. Scarves – your autumn ‘must have’ accessory
Travel mug fully loaded with hot coffee!
9. Fire – a book or film that burns your soul
I can’t mention just one.
10. Toffee apples – a book or film that seems one thing but really has a different inside
I’m not such a huge fan of films so this right here has me at odds and ends.
Since I jumped in on this tag, I’ll leave it open to all the Book Lovers who read my responses, feel free to tag me in your responses, who knows…we may indeed be birds of a feather.
You once asked me “would you keep a secret from me?”
I answered, “yes, I would…everyone reserves the right to hold back some things even from themselves, isn’t that why the unconscious mind seems to unravel mysteries or depths we never thought we had?”
You laughed but I could see the war waging inside of you because like me, you go from zero to one hundred in a flash. I never cared to know why or ease your mind.
I should have.
I came across a shirt…a piece of clothing I once borrowed from you because I love my shirts as baggy as they can be, and my jeans…well, I never knew I dropped two sizes until I got a pair of skinny jeans.
So, here I am, wearing this shirt…unraveling every conversation we ever had and smiling as I drink my second cup of tea tonight. You had me undone, while I was a mystery even unto myself, to you…I was a puzzle and could easily be solved.
So, here I am, wearing this shirt…unraveling every conversation we should have had and smiling as I drink my second cup of tea tonight. You had me. Now, a part of me holds onto the only piece that still remembers you like you are right here, and it is telling me that I am okay, that I am alright…that I cannot keep my hurt hidden.
So, here I am, Stardust, saying thank you because in this lifetime…I still can’t believe how come I never got you to drink coffee!
Not at your wounded heart, neither your pleas nor touch would make me reconsider.
I refuse to travel back to the point where you wounded me.
Stardust, how is it that we orbit each other only to wound ourselves?
How is it that you who knows me all too well can break me when I am whole?
How is it that when I decide to leave, you draw me back?
I refuse to look back Stardust.
So, we stare at each other…I am seated directly opposite you and she is somewhere in the next room doing her best to locate her clothes.
I like her.
She’s got a warm body, beautiful smile and more so because just like me, she fell for your charms. The difference is that she let you trail your hands over her body…while I struggle to let you linger…a touch is like a prick, and you often say “these miles you’ve set between us will one day set us apart.”
I have asked her to stay. She’s not at fault. She’s as shocked and worried as you are, because she does not understand how you would drop her like hot coal for someone who is just a friend.
Stardust, you deserve the world. I lay it your feet. You win.
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How then is it that I ought to come to you as ‘yours’ when you relish everyone else? Oh, how the world is your buffet and us minions but snippets of delicacies that you may or may not relish.
I refuse to look back Stardust, so now we are at an impasse- my feet folded beneath me on this couch, my eyes, an ocean of hurt and your soul, gone…
I refuse to look back Stardust because I know in doing so, my heart may blossom at the moments you made it soar and it may just ask me to stay.
Do not ask me to stay.
Release me Stardust…I deserve the world, so curl your feet, let me pick it up and walk into the light.
It goes something like this, “once upon a time, years before the gods made man, there lived a being unlike no other. Her heart was the sun and her smile the moon. She shone brighter than every light known to the gods and in her presence there was glory.”
I know of a tale.
It goes something like this, “once upon a time, when man thought it wise to take another, he left his home and went to another being of beauty. Every day that he spent away from his home, his beloved’s heart grew cold. It grew so cold that when he’d lost everything he had; he came back to find a fortress around his home. He called a passer by and asked “who built this wall here?”
The passer by looked at him and shook his head, “don’t you know what happened? Some foolish man left his home for another and this wall right here is what remains of his wife’s heart. The poor woman died of a broken heart.”
I know of a tale.
It goes something like this, “once upon a time…”
I know of one tale right now, being of beauty, shine as bright as you can, dim the fear and doubts that try to cloud your light by saying ‘you are not good enough.’
You are a galaxy, being of beauty, in you are eons of splendor, own it!
nilichoandika 