Self control soup. It’s very difficult to do. It’s slightly stupid. Why did I want to do this? To challenge myself and prove it– That I’m not average.
Anticipation is my killer,
Bewildering dreams over take me,
Charged by resilience,
Defeated by my own defense,
Emptiness has never been a problem.
Ferociously tumultuous feelings consistently interrupt these channels between my heart, my head, my fingers, my eyes, my toes because
Grandiose thoughts distort my perception of reality. I never feel safe.
Harkened by the past,
Juxtaposed with these silly, go big, feet-in-the-sky dreams,
Kindness gets lost in the mess of me.
Lucidly, I walk as if its all already happening with insurmountable greatness just a moment away. I am the walrus.
Maybe, Maleficent. Yes. I am the manifestation of a childlike empress slowly and begrudgingly losing her inner light.
Naively never say never, go big, go big, but then…
Omnipotence isn’t my color and it doesn’t suit my roots or dress.
Posterity has no hold on me but the present won’t abide, they don’t believe– they are rightly afraid and disturbed by my failed attempts, playing Boss Lady with no papers because the past cannot hide.
Quietly the world whispers to me that too much is not the right kind of stuff. Even the greatest of tables need legs to stand on, like, is it wobbly or nah? Does it mean anything at all that don’t want to stand up exactly straight but yet I want my head held high? Is it possible to wobble and yet stay strong?
Redundant as it may seem,
Something doesn’t come from nothing and nothing is the end of something.
Thousands of toppled projects mocking me while the fire burns inside causes the energy to manifest in impulsive battle after battle.
Undermining my own work and praise I cower into the darkness and paint my finger nails black. I want to dye my hair purple and braid my hair. But I can’t be 16 again.
Visceral as my past dreams may have been, today is new as am I. We walk together as untouched snowflakes facing each other while rest of the world watches discriminately.
Wandering vagabonds. Willowing travelberries bursting with the juices of fermenting determination against odds of a million designs.
Xerox my heart and read it out loud so I can know the stories more clearly. It’s all starting to get fuzzy, I’ve been so many me’s in so many places that I can’t remember if I am in black and white or color.
Yes-No-I-Don’t-Know is the answer that plagues every question of our identity as humans. While YES is my favorite answer. I find myself rarely saying it at the most opportune times.
Zeitgiest after itself I am propelled by these emotions falling yet running in mid stream thought like a raging river in a flash flood crashing into homes and never choosing one.
Self-control Soup. Its bitter sweet melody sings my newfound hopeful nod to accepting weakness and lack as beautiful parts of my tastefully undecided nature.