glory! : however..

washer

Goodnight my love Remember me as you fall to sleep Fill your pockets with the dust and the memories That rises from the shoes on my feet I won't be back here Though we may meet again I know it's dark outside Don't be afraid Everytime I ever cried from fear Was just a mistake that I made Wash yourself in your tears And build your church On the strength of your faith Please Listen to me Don't let go Don't let this desperate moonlight leave me With your empty pillow Promise me the sun will rise again I too am tired now Embracing thoughts of tonight's dreamless sleep My head is empty My toes are warm I am safe from harm...

Wednesday, March 27, 2024

however..

ill word this as if this was my last post to comfort myself. depends on the night i have. i plan on drinking some maybe. ill see if i get bold and do it. i dont mind not saying it properly. a lot of people will not understand this statement. my family will know why and the only person close to me will know as well.

i have no one on my side here, nobody understands. i belong someplace else, i was born in the wrong body, wrong species, wrong planet. i was meant to be placed somewhere kinder. i cannot keep holding myself up to the same standards as human beings. im immature and i will never grow any older, i have stumbled into a deep well and my cries for help and aid sound like gushing water to the outside listener. my bones are broken. i was gifted with immortality and put in an iron casket, thrown to the sea. i was forsaken by God it feels. i prayed so hard for guidance and strength. but today i am more lost than i ever have been. weaker. i grew so weak over the past few. im scared of the future. i think i need to make a run for it. they are banging on my door and will soon break it in. i have to choose now, the window or their hands.

i have to choose now. i am with no hope for the future, i am abandoned to the sake of the wilderness. it is getting darker and the heat is discipating, and the cruelty of the forest wakes at dusk. but i am ready to go into the stars.

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sylvia plath, the bell jar

I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.

Psalm 18: 6-11

In my distress I called upon the Lord, And cried out to my God; He heard my voice from His temple, And my cry came before Him, even to His ears. Then the earth shook and trembled; The foundations of the hills also quaked and were shaken, Because He was angry. Smoke went up from His nostrils, And devouring fire from His mouth; Coals were kindled by it. He bowed the heavens also, and came down With darkness under His feet. And He rode upon a cherub, and flew; He flew upon the wings of the wind. He made darkness His secret place; His canopy around Him was dark waters And thick clouds of the skies.