Updated: May 28
Sometimes I feel there is no one who knows me as much as my own self. I can just burst out in laughter and just a second later I can break into tears for no reason at all.
True that each of us is unique, but I feel I am a blend of many such unique of them around me. No one has taught me to live, I learned it on my own and trust me I have a bucket of the pain than pleasure from the lessons learned.
It’s so weird that sometimes the saddest moment, where I was extremely vulnerable in life turns out to be one more added to my favorites, because its then I feel different about myself and that I am a human.
I feel so numb when I realize that its high time that I stop pretending that I am strong or make sure people stop perceiving me as someone like that and that the inner weak/vulnerable hideout of mine has to come feel some sunshine. Life when turned back and checked on, looks like it was all tangled with words from the English Dictionary – determination, aim, desire, focus and so on that sometimes I feel that I have missed to enjoy the ride and never found myself a space to feel life, raw the way it is.
Pain to me is now like a drug, too hallucinating too addictive that now I push myself to that aura that’s broken and I am sure will hurt me. Pain is the most beautiful feeling, nothing can go as deep as it does. It’s so pious, gentle, subtle and straight, that even you don’t realize when had it actually start running through your blood. Now that I long for it, I yearn for that feeling to be happy after the storm settles. Don’t take it otherwise, I ain’t mentally ill – I am just happy because I found tranquillity in the pain that came my way. I never want to destroy them, nor regret any. I would always carry memories of them, as raw and fresh as they were, with that vehement smell of my own blood, perfectly imperfect and beautifully seasoned to fall right to the texture I have masked myself with.
Some broken souls have repaired my senses, some have added colour to my life, some were fun to watch, some have built a tiny Rome in me, some walked along my path to push me to find what I was capable of – broken pieces of a shining mirror that I’d myself forgotten that existed.
There is this really interesting art that I perform, absorbing pain from the space around me, precisely from auras that cross or more accurately clash with mine. I read through them, dissolve it and drink it with a glass of water to exhale some purity out of it to my mother nature. And yeah trust me, broken people are the strongest.
It isn’t easy to do what isn’t realistic in usual contexts, but yeah I find strength, or maybe I discover some power in handing out help to those who may not deserve it, in grieving for ones who are devils alive and in forgiving those who have done all that they can to impart pain in me. And I am happy because I don’t really expect.
I can just be happy for no reason, I can listen to a crossbred playlist of songs that vary from west to east, I can randomly think of a very old memory and create a new perspective on it, I can simply stare at a beautiful flower or just glance something that moves me from within.
Sometimes I feel the fact that I am brutally honest about life and the pain I go through that makes me impregnable, inviolable and unconquerable, just an invincible soul.