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I try to rouse others to find their truths by writing about my own! Yoga, meditation and aromatherapy teacher. Author: The Reddest Rose Bleeds the Deepest.
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I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
— Pablo Neruda

Just three little words…

What’s the harm, right?

I love you the way the ocean loves the beach, kissing it subtly and privately, when no one is yet awake to walk the sandy shores.

I love you the way the birds cherish the changing of the seasons, as they migrate on to the next path of their lives — as if innately.

I love you the way a martyr believes in something so direly, he can’t stay alive…

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“It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought…

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“It’s never too late to have a happy childhood.”
― Tom Robbins

I couldn’t wait to get home and finish my homework so I could ride my bike for hours on end, until the beautiful Sun retired for the night, leaving me freshly rejuvenated and utterly exhausted.

I’d hop on my bike and ride around town, wherever the winds might lead me that eve, lest I become stir crazy sitting at home watching television alongside my pooped father.

Some days, I’d ride alone, whispering sweet nothings unto the alluring Universe that haunted me as a child.

Other days, I’d meet…

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“You cannot control the behavior of others, but you can always choose how you respond to it.”
Roy T. Bennett

I made the choice to live my life without the vaccine, and it has cost me hugs, laughter, freedom to visit family, and so much more.

It’s as if I have Leprosy, and I’ll contaminate those I love with my breath, my smile, my presence, my lending hand.

Didn’t you know it’s not all that contagious — being a leper? Ha!

It’s not so black and white, living in this world amid a pandemic. You get the vaccine? You take…

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“I am just a human being trying to make it in a world that is rapidly losing its understanding of being human.”
— John Trudell

Humans make mistakes, so it’s as if we’ve forgiven all sins, before they’ve even happened because we are just humans. We are only humans.

But we aren’t just human beings.

We are fucking human beings.

We have a machine inside of our heads that dictate our movements, our feelings, our curiosities, our findings, our beliefs, our innate selves. We have this machine that puts together sights, translating our perceptions from past experiences, biases, future comings…

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“I don’t want to die without any scars.”
―Chuck Palahniuk [Fight Club]

He kisses me all over — from my toes to my forehead — sending shivers up and down my spine, as if his lips glide over me like a light feather running down and tickling my body, my mind, my soul, my aura.

He stops breathing when he sees my scars, wondering from where they came, and if I gave them to myself.

The world around me stops spinning, as if time itself is set to pause. And then my breath stops, alongside his stiffening body, but he…

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“It is said that your life flashes before your eyes just before you die. That is true, it’s called life.”
— Terry Pratchett

Time is not linear. Nor is it symmetrical. Nor is it even real.

When we are born, this life force is breathed into us, as if by magic, but energy isn’t made of magic. It’s made of work — the ability to perform, exercise, transfer, move, and so on. Life is thus itself work. And when we die, this life force leaves us, as if also by magic, but it isn’t. It’s just science.

I often wonder…

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I was thinking about you before my dream-filled sleeps. And during. And after.

My bed was shaking, as if an orgasmic experience was about to ensue, and it did.

I felt calm — so fucking calm — but then I found myself in my car, driving on foreign roads that felt familiar, as if I’d been traveling in circles.

I woke up on the tile floor, cold as stone but rigid as a façade (or are false realities actually fluid, not rigid?), …

Photo by Kyle Cleveland on Unsplash

I teeter on the brink of depression. Alcoholism. Suicide. Anxiety that’s all-consuming. Psychosis. Normalcy that’s not the norm for me. Societal deformities. Freakish areas of grays and blacks and blues and… reds.

I see the egg shells.

They surround me in my mind, my friends, my environment, my frequent habits, my dreams (nightmares, more like), my closets, my car, my memories, my past life, my future goals.

I see them everywhere, and it’s as if they’re shards of glass about to cut me at any moment.

any moment

Sometimes? I avoid them at all costs, bouncing from cushion to cushion…

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“A million words would not bring you back. I know because I tried. Neither would a million tears. I know because I cried.”
— Unknown

I need you to lift me up, when the waters are too heavy for me to wade through, exhausting and depleting all energies I’ve mustered to just stay afloat, lest I drown in my own damn sorrow.

I need you to lift me up, when the gravity’s force is stronger than my will to live — live alone, that is — without you by my side any longer. …

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