Wednesday, March 18, 2015

Hole

There is a hole.
A dark, insidious hole where my heart is.
With one look at the liquid ether before me, calling my name, taunting me,
I feel it all. I feel the darkness creep in, little by little,
Tickling and scratching simultaneously.
Before long, I am consumed by my demons, triggered by the addictive liquid I burn for.
I feel the change, I cannot stop it.
I feel everything negatively.
The light fades, I become the darkness.

Taste after taste, the cool liquid, against my burning lips, I yearn for more.
Nothing can stop me now.
I am not me, I am the darkness.
I can feel it all.
Consumed by evil, consumed by this addiction, an addict in my own right.
There is nothing else, only the pain and aggression I unleash on those I love.
I am not me, I am caged within, prisoner inside my own thoughts.
I see everything, feel everything, but I am merely a puppet, the liquid ether my master.
"Stop", I yell, to no avail.
My loved ones stand before me as the monster in me inflicts pain.
I watch, helplessly, as they're hurt and angered by my own diseased tongue, or hand.
They see me, but know not of the prison I'm encompassed in as the horrid events unfold.

I endeavor to fight, battle my demons.
The liquid ether has paralyzed me, dimmed all the light and damned me.
I am helpless as the liquid ether runs through my veins and infects me.
I am unstoppable, but not invincible.
My only cure is sleep, though sleep is temporary.
After the damage is done, I crawl into bed and shut my eyes tight and weep inside.
The morning breaks upon my sensitive face, I blink repeatedly, adjusting to the light.
It takes a second before most of the events of the previous night come flooding in like a waterfall in the middle of Winter.
I shut my eyes again, but all I see is the pain I caused, all I feel, just the same.
I have allowed myself once again, to fall prey to the liquid ether.
"Where is my will power?" "Why have I done this?"

No, It has to stop here. No more giving in, no more burning, yearning, consuming myself with the glass that inevitably changes my make up.
I need to, I want to stand strong.
Be the person everyone knows me to be,
Be the person I was born to be, the person whom I love.
Damn the monster to the depths of hell.
Burn in a fiery pit.
I am fierce, I am strong. I am more than this addiction.
I have dreams, I have people to love and inspire.
This is who I am.
This is who I was meant to be.
I am only human, I make mistakes,
but no longer will I give into this temptation, the liquid paradise that makes me bold, and sadly changes the person I have worked so hard to become.

The road ahead is long, but it will be easy.
I do not need my vices, I want my freedom.
I have my freedom..
Give me a chance..

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Happiness is waiting...

Truth is folks, happiness is ours for when we dare to embrace it. We crave happiness, satisfaction and contentment but what are we doing about it? Waiting around for all these gifts to come our way. We ask, "Why am I not happy? Why can't I be happy?" expecting intricate answers to simple questions.

Truth is folks... these gifts are at the tips of our fingers, within our grasp, for when we want it, truly want it. These gifts aren't something we sit around waiting, patiently, or rather impatiently, for. No, it will never consume us if we're lying in our bed, sitting on our sofa, kneeling on our shower floor, hoping or wondering "Why me?".

CREATE IT!

Truth is folks... we're lazy.

CREATE IT!

MOLD IT!

Make the effort to search within yourself, or the small beauties around you and work on it.

Create your canvas of happiness. Colour your life beautiful. Think outside the box, colour outside the lines, be fearless. Sing your song, dance your dance. Love the little things and accept the big one's.

Truth is folks... Happiness is ours. For when we want it. Truly!

Monday, November 17, 2014

Love Struck

"Come hither", the temptress whispers in his ear.
Tiny hair follicles on end. riveting. 
Exploding synapses as the sound pouring from her tainted lips, sings the tune of his soul.
"I don't want this. Be gone seductress! Be GONE!" He howls across the universe, speaking to Fate and Destiny and all who hold his course.

Breathless he keels over, hands to knees, knees trembling, knees to ground, hands sweating. 
"Why is life so unfair?" 
The ultimate question. His thoughts are a blur, a ludicrous fusion of all that was right, and everything that was wrong. A compass pointing every which way, but no place in particular. Morals, vices, virtue, infused into a beautiful chaotic accord - an accord that was too vigorous and too feeble simultaneously.

Of the pain he has endured, of the love he has felt, or the sensations that he's lived for, nothing compares to the agony of this kind of passionate affair. An affair that unhinged every screw that had been perfectly placed. The wall that was built, the emotion that was hidden in the deep crevices of the soul, were ripped apart and left bare for the temptress. She devoured his heart, as he did hers. They feasted on one another as kings and queens feast on special occasions. 

The odyssey they pursued was exquisite. They traveled places near and far, crossed oceans, indulged in Life's beauty and chaos, flew high above the clouds and soared as eagles soar. Gravity, though, or Fate and Destiny, or even the Universe herself could not keep them flying through the pink and orange hued sphere. The sun set, and the clouds tumbled in, along with the thunder, and lightening struck them down to earth, down further, to a heated pit. 

The love struck wanderers found themselves in a heat of fury. Blame was thrown, hearts were broken and fires were blazing. But even through all the pain and suffering, there was a love like no other. A passion that incinerated almost everything in it's path. A sensation, not of this extraordinary world. But alas, love was not enough. 
Love cannot be enough in the depths of a personal Hell.

Life was unbalanced. Actions were impulsive, emotional, without conscious thought. 
Passion turned to aggression, awe turned to spite. Love was love was hatred was hurt was agony was beauty was passion was pain. 

Love did not survive the fury of the passionate heart. Yet it still lingers as they move forward in their lives. Hope is ever present, however small it may be.

Sometimes hope is all you need to move on. Sometimes creating a new life, a new love and new passion with whats right in front of you is the best way forward. 

Love the small things, love the crazy things, love the adventure, the pain, the passion and all that comes with it, but love outside your personal Hell. Or love after you learn to love yourself. Because that is what this comes down to folks. You can love someone with every single, minute fiber of your extraordinary being, but if you do not love yourself, love will not be enough. It will never enough. 

The sad, truth can set you free. 

Free yourself from self-hatred and learn to love and live with yourself. Once you do that, you'll be amazed at what you can accomplish. 
star-crossed lovers. by FrancesHolly

Tuesday, October 7, 2014

dear Depression,



i write to you. do not judge me for my lack of grammar, i am not a book.
i do, however have something important to say if you'll lend me your ear for a brief second.

it is truly sad how we undermine you Depression. your name is thrown around so lightly and playfully at times even by me. i cannot fathom the destruction you have caused, the storm you have released upon so many lives. you are darkness with no light, no bright side. you devour us like a hungry wolf and still come back for more.

try explaining to loved one's the feelings pulsing through you during an attack by the ol' mighty YOU. there is no fucking explanation and yet we're regularly asked, "are you okay?" to which we respond, "no" though unable to explain why we are not okay. or we respond "yes" simply. easily. yet the turmoil buried deep within is rising to the surface. that black hole we run from is slowly catching up and all we can do is stop, turn around and let it consume us because we know there is no where to hide.

getting out of bed to face the day is burdensome. with a rueful demeanor we drag our feet to the shower so as to not smell of yesterday's defeat. repulsed by friends and family we avoid contact by any means and then wonder why no one's calling to ask how we're doing. do they not care? alone we meander through the motions of the day wishing it would end so that sleep would consume us and reality would dissipate for a few short hours. only to wake up to a light that burns to the core. and so we crawl back under the blanket and cry.

why, Depression, why? it is a simple question. how do you finger us out and play at our strings. you, the great puppet master. why do you insist on humiliating us? we hide our mirrors because our reflections reveal an ugly portrait of you. we avoid feelings because you've made it impossible to feel anything but horrible. ugly. disgusting. worthless. hopeless. tomorrow is not another day when you are present. tomorrow is another door to hell with our name's printed ever so lonesomely on it. lonely. alone. isolated. forsaken. solitary. the only friend we possess during your massacre.

but boy do i have news for you Depression. your lifespan is limited. although you do not see it you provide an awareness, a sense of expanded consciousness. you provide a realization of truth. because no matter how hard you try to gain friends during your massacre, you will always be alone. you either kill or give life. the former and latter leave you without, leave you wanting. there will come a day where we see a flicker of light, of hope. where we'll take hold of a loving hand and be encompassed by a warm embrace. our cold blood will run hot, igniting a passion within us. igniting a fire that was smothered by your poisonous affection.

ah, there will be a day. just you wait and see. you are alone old friend. you are alone. and we, we are awakened by your touch. though scars remain, memories etched, we have tasted hell but we now walk through the cancerous fire with a thirst for a life. we do have something to say. we do have lives to touch and children to birth. passion to be felt, loves to be had. without doubt we know we'll cross paths with you again, and though we may not be prepared for it, there'll be that flicker.

and that flicker is all we need.

sincerely,
anonymous.


Thursday, August 21, 2014

When Opportunity comes a-knocking


So, we are human. That's obvious. And being human, living the lives we do, we are often faced with problems. Difficulties arrive and obstacles are introduced and we, as humans, are taken aback by these trials. We tend to curl up into little balls of fear. Our canvas is etched with worry and "what ifs". We lose sight of our goals in the process of worrying about the problem we are faced with. I was taught to overcome obstacles placed before me, I was taught to be strong, but alas we live in a conditioned society and the world at times can be cruel.  We cannot always live up to what we have been taught when the world around us teaches the masses to think a certain way.

Our difficulties are our own. And we can overcome despite the deep-seeded fear buried within. 

Do not fear the unexpected. Do not fear the problems you are faced with. Instead ask questions. Brainstorm this difficulty that has presented itself at the most inconvenient time in your life - as it always does.

"A pessimist sees the difficulty in every opportunity; an optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty."
Winston Churchill
Is there opportunity within this trial? 
Is there a lesson to be learned? 
Is there any value to the problem you're faced with? 
How can you overcome and grow from this difficulty?

Every problem you're faced with has some sort of value, or lesson, or opportunity hidden in the depths of it's disparity. You have a choice. 

You can be pessimistic about the problem, anticipating only the bad, but where does that leave you? With undesirable outcomes?. If that is your way of over-coming, there is no judgement. Each to their own. 
OR
You can be optimistic when faced with a problem and know that the situation before you is of value to your life and your circumstances. Lessons can be learned and new outlooks can be established.
It is your choice. You decide whether you learn from the situation, move forward and grow. 
OR
You can adjust to the situation. You can view the difficulty for what it really is and be realistic about what is happening. 

Should you find negativity in the wind, you can either hope for it to change or adjust to it. Ultimately there is no right or wrong way of overcoming. Each of us is unique in our own right. We all function differently. If you cannot adjust to your situation then be optimistic about the problem. Every problem has a positive outcome buried at the root. Seek opportunity in every difficulty - perhaps the outcome will be that of positive value and lessons learned from pushing through or adjusting when times get rough.

You are worth more than pessimism. Don't wish for undesirables to come your way. There is always some value in every situation. Seek opportunity. Invite opportunity in when it comes knocking at your door. 

Overcome. Learn. Grow.

What would you do if faced with a problem? 


















Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Ego: Through the Fire & into the Belly of The Beast

Part Two:

Running is easy.

Sprinting through the fire and into the belly of The Beast is easier.

The days that followed my encounter with the Ultimate Casanova have been capricious. My erratic behavior noticeable and questioned.

Oh, the Holy Grail. Ego handed me a golden goblet filled with all-mighty destruction and watched as I gulped, greedily. His smile was laced with malevolence as he rubbed his palms together.

Now I stare into the hazel eyes of the one I truly love. My heart breaks, piece by piece, as the obliteration of our relationship continues.

I question him.
I doubt him.
I fear him.

Broken. His fragile heart.

Mere words. Murder. The world around us is deafening. The silence emphatic. It only took a juncture for the flames to rise from beneath our mangled bodies and burn our souls. The rambunctious words of total annihilation kept pouring from my tainted lips. I willed myself to stop, but to no avail. All I could do was cry.

Cry for him.
Cry for his soul.
Cry for his torn love.

I can tell you this. He loves me. Irrevocably. But to his detriment? To mine?

Ego can taint a person. Ego can change one's thought process. Ego can infect your immune system. Ego can alter you. But there is hope. There has to be.

I sit. Watching. Watching his every move. For fear of him meeting someone that'll steal his heart - knowing full well that his heart has already been stolen. I am surrounded by an ocean of people exuding happiness, anger, sadness. But none of these emotions matter to me. The noise fades into nothing as Fear consumes me and invites Jealousy to accompany us into the darkness that looms around the corner.

It starts in my toes, spreading up to my ankles, entwining around my carves like vines - creeping slowly, poisoning my synapses. The venom spreads throughout my body, corrupting and influencing every thought and every action. I lose control. All of me - contaminated by Ego's malice.

Ego, wretched Ego.

I drop to my knees, drowning in the crowd, surrounded by an illusion of people who are better than me, more attractive, intelligent, challenging. I scream inwardly. I weep tears of silence and imprison my unwanted guests - Doubt, Jealousy and Fear - knowing that they'll escape and attack in the unpredictable future.

One
Two
Three
Four

Days pass by. I endeavor to restrain my prisoners. I'm strong, but the uninvited are stronger. United they stand. United they escape. United they attack. Pouncing on their unsuspecting victim.

His expression drips with a thousand unspoken words. His hazel eyes saddened. His beautiful face is warped, he shakes his head in sorrow and disbelief as I attack him for reasons that I have created. Reasons that were artistically painted on a canvas of delusion with the help of my fellow artists.

My words cut like a thousand blades - laced in assumption and misconception.
Suddenly, I stop. I listen. I hear the insanity.

I whisper the words: "I'm sorry".

To be continued...