sometimes
when you don’t know things you NEED to know
or you feel things you DON’T want to feel (or at least, you probably shouldn’t feel them maybe possibly i don’t know)
(i mean, emotions are also awesome, but ugh.)

Explore Your Soul
sometimes
when you don’t know things you NEED to know
or you feel things you DON’T want to feel (or at least, you probably shouldn’t feel them maybe possibly i don’t know)
(i mean, emotions are also awesome, but ugh.)
What is something about YOU that’s weird?
Do you like it about yourself?
We’ve kinda demonized the term, ‘weird’.
Of course, there’s a big difference between quirky weird and creepy weird, the latter being none too healthy nor pleasing (or helpful).
But being weird, isn’t automatically a bad thing.
Typically, it simply means you stand out from the crowd. You divert from social or cultural behavior of the majority surrounding you.
That doesn’t mean evil, bad, wrong, or stupid.
Yet, that’s often how we take it.
Are you a goth in a school that idolizes jocks?
One of those special human beings who walks about in the world with no socks on (how do you NOT have blisters?!)?
Do you have a speech impediment?
I bet you’re considered weird. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Or you.
Being goth is perfectly fine. Also, your makeup is amazing. If you’re someone who doesn’t wear socks, I don’t know how you survive, but there’s nothing wrong with you. And a speech impediment didn’t stop Winston Churchill.
I guess what I’m trying to say is, stop bloody worrying if people call you weird.
What’s weird in Japan might be normal in America and vice versa. It doesn’t mean anything is inherently wrong. Wrong, is when you cause harm. And that’s got it’s own term…. wrong.
Being weird isn’t bad. In fact, any time the subject comes up, I always think of this poem. I’ll leave you with it. So first, just know that your oddities make you, YOU. And you are a beautiful human being. Don’t hide. (Unless you’re in a situation where taking my advice would put you in danger. 😉)
“She had blue skin,
And so did he.
He kept it hid,
And so did she.
They searched for blue
Their whole life through,
Then passed right by —
And never knew.”
Shel Silverstein
is bloody scary.
I guess trust brings up vulnerability. It takes into consideration if the person or situation is trustworthy. If you, yourself are trustworthy. It brings up risk.
Trust isn’t easy. Nothing worth your time is.
My question for you today and every day of your life is… do you trust yourself?
In the same way, I’m asking you, do you think YOU matter? Do you think you’re valuable? Do you think it’s important to do what you say you’ll do – for others and yourself? Do you think it’s important to SEE yourself and be honest about that?
Do you trust yourself?
If you don’t, don’t hate on yourself. That won’t help.
Start building trust with YOU.
Make some promises to yourself and keep them.
Trust me, its important.
Why?
Why do you do what you do?
Why do you not do what you do not do?
Why do you do things that you wish you wouldn’t?
Why can’t you seem to do things you wish you would?
Awareness comes before you can implement change. We’re odd little creatures. And we almost always have a “why”.
Figure yours out.
Know yourself.
Trust me, it’ll help across the board.
Focus on being a human being.
NOT a human doing.
Sit with any uncomfortableness. Sit with who you are. BE who you are. BE.
Be.
You deserve to exist. To thrive. To be aware of you.
I ACCEPT ALL OF MYSELF.
Have you ever said that to yourself, about yourself? Out loud.
Try it out. Seriously.
(Accepting yourself. Loving yourself. That doesn’t mean approving of things you don’t like about yourself, like bad habits or addictions. Approving and accepting are two very different things.)
So why not try feeding yourself a new idea… that you accept all of yourself? Instead of letting everyone outside of you brainwash you into believing you’re not enough.
You are, by the way. Good enough. Don’t forget to talk to yourself like you are.
love
is exposing
the soft
fragile
fleshy
belly
and hoping they don’t
tear into it
it is a mad dash
to expose your throat
before your head reminds you
you’re made of paper machet
all it takes
is a tiny little
blade
to open your throat
bleed you out
again.
love
is knowing better
handing them your secrets
anyway
heart throwing down
that gauntlet
head standing on the breaks
when you’re alreading
in the fast lane
afraid
it might be too late
to slow down
now
you might cause a head on collision
getting in the car
shrugging
love
is unzipping the skin
from your bones
while standing
in a live minefield
abruptly aware
your neck is on the line
moments to decide
moments to decide
but your thoughts
are not
thinking right
lungs can’t remember
the best way to
breathe
trying to paint you nails
in a sling
on a bus
in an unfamiliar country
where no one
speaks your langauge
love
is splashes
of paint
linking the cemetery
you
keep
visiting
almost a silent prayer
don’t leave my heart here
again.
waiting just under
the over hang
one person’s smile
making your umbrella
seem ridiculous
stepping into the rain
faith that the rain will
stop before
your courage runs
only
now you find
it’s not rain
it’s hail
the size
of fists
opening the cardboard boxes
you duct taped
into your closet
but funny you should ask
my closet never had any
water
damage
and i’m saying
you
again
instead of me
love is like that
new neural network
which you thought came with schematics
blueprints
an idea
a plan
scribbled onto a napkin
at the very least
something
a smile
into the vast
void
simmering underneath
your eyelashes
in between your joints
settled in muscle tissue
and decorating
or maybe love isn’t decorating at all
it might be
it could be
perhaps love
is raking desperate claws
down your
wallpaper
exposing the canker
and pus
so you
can pull it out
finding all your seems
picking at the ends
until the
mismatching thread
becomes
obvious
so you can buy
some new colors
let the old ones go
taking all the dust
in your vaccum
making a pillow fight
out of it
so you can sweep it outside
this
time
breaking the ugly dishes
you don’t know
why
you kept
they have cracks and memories
in them anyway
now you can
make new ones
from star dust
and black and white stills
burning all your trophies
so you can finally
see they were chains
flaxen cords
oxen’s yoke
keeping you tied
bound to ghosts
causing cold spots
and nightmares
it’s okay
love states
i killed them for you
they cannot stalk
cannot hook your collarbone
to grave markers
cannot stuff your comforter
with lead
not anymore
i removed them for you
they cannot stain
cannot moan into your ear
while you drift into slumber
cannot speak your name
and pull you under
not ever again
i will guard the
holes in your armour
it’s okay
love declares
they will never own your
sobs
again
now you can
wipe them away
I will sit in the
expanse of unknown
right beside you
and when they bring their
pitchforks
and reason
i will hand you
your heart
from within my chest
so you can battle
your demons
with the truth in your gun
one in the chamber.
love is
trying to forget
what love is
because hug it close
now
and you might
have to sew
its dead jaw shut
put it in a box
in the ground
again
love is
creation and decay
and the moment
the moment
you recognize
love’s seed
you have
a moment to decide
a moment to decide
ironic little moments
they
never tell the
full
truth
love
is
the moment
the very moment
you flatline
and the
forever
you wake up to
By Daphne Shadows
Stop trying to live it.
Life is messy. Everyone makes mistakes.
If you aren’t making mistakes, that means you’re not trying to grow, learn, or become.
We have such a nasty stigma surrounding mistakes. It’s as if we think making a mistake is the same thing as failing. Or being bad, wrong, or flawed somehow. As if making a mistake means we aren’t good enough or worthy.
Which is a ridiculous notion. That I totally struggle with.
Next time you make a mistake, don’t be mean to yourself.
Instead, ask yourself what you can learn from it? How it can help you move forward more effectively.
It’s a learning curve. NOT a stick to beat yourself with.