Stream of Consciousness

Emotions Suck


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.)

Stream of Consciousness

There’s Something Strange about being Weird

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

Stream of Consciousness


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.

Stream of Consciousness

Your Reason


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.

Stream of Consciousness

Say It


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.

Shadow Poetry

Swan Song


is exposing

the soft




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


to open your throat

bleed you out



is knowing better

handing them your secrets


heart throwing down

that gauntlet

head standing on the breaks

when you’re alreading

in the fast lane


it might be too late

to slow down


you might cause a head on collision

getting in the car



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


trying to paint you nails

in a sling

on a bus

in an unfamiliar country

where no one

speaks your langauge


is splashes

of paint

linking the cemetery




almost a silent prayer

don’t leave my heart here


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


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



and i’m saying



instead of me

love is like that

new neural network

which you thought came with schematics


an idea

a plan

scribbled onto a napkin

at the very least


a smile

into the vast


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


exposing the canker

and pus

so you

can pull it out

finding all your seems

picking at the ends

until the

mismatching thread



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



breaking the ugly dishes

you don’t know


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



now you can

wipe them away

I will sit in the

expanse of unknown

right beside you

and when they bring their


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


and you might

have to sew

its dead jaw shut

put it in a box

in the ground


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


never tell the





the moment

the very moment

you flatline

and the


you wake up to

By Daphne Shadows

Stream of Consciousness

Perfection Is a Myth

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.