For some reason, during the night, when it’s pitch black and quiet, my mind becomes it’s most transparent.
Writing can be so difficult when you have oceans of words and ideas in your head but you don’t know how to piece everything together, that’s what i’ve been going through lately, just something to note.
I’m still trying to find myself through my mental chaos. That is to say, i’m trying to understand myself and what i truly stand for. To translate and find peace within these screams and echoes of my past. I’m still fighting myself in all honesty, one second i want all of my memories to strike me at once, just to know i’m alive, then another second i want to desensitize myself and block everything out; become cold and numb.
To translate my feelings would be like trying to shake the earth and give meaning to art that will never be understood. I constantly feel like my mind is overflowing with words i cannot place together and emotions i cannot describe.
The best way to illustrate this feeling would be the want to bury myself within walls, the plaster and dust and hidden untouched details, between the mysterious outside world and the comfort and solitude of a home. To hinder these two worlds from burdening myself. Some people choose to do drugs or drink to get away from the world, I can think and it will have the same effect.
For people who know me personally, and what i mean by this is people who have seen my surface, you’d know i come off as a positive, humorous person. And i think that’s something i pride myself by. A lot of people over time allow the world to darken their thoughts and this leads them to become cold towards others. Yes i can hurt myself but i can also forgive myself. Once you hurt someone else, the damage is done and they will always think of you as that somebody who decided to take their misery out on them.
But i think life becomes so much easier once you decide to cast away your heart, when you hit the point where your wounds won’t open when you cast someone dear to you away, or when you hurt the ones who love you the most.
Casting away feelings of hate and distrust; your eye moistening, chest trembling, heart racing emotion. Sawing off these disintegrating bones of certain closet skeletons, avoiding red hot scorpions with intent to poison and cleaning dusty attics filled with scattered emblems in your head. All of this is what we were taught to do, ether though ourselves or others. But i ask myself, what’s the fun in that? I end up becoming so full i end up overflowing and my body cannot decide what to do. My closets look like graveyards, i grow attached to the home where i’m accused of being a hoarder, and people look at me funny when i tell them how much i love arachnids.
Even now, writing this cannot illustrate my thoughts enough. There are many different levels to myself, so many hidden doorways even i haven’t discovered, door that no one else is capable of opening, places i’m not even sure even i will come across. There are secrets hidden in the way i glance across a room, plans embedded in my fingertips. There’s beauty within me, this i know, yet i’m still embarrassed to talk about it sometimes.
I just feel i have so many holes in my heart, not in a bad way, but a sort of middle point, where passion and sensitivity continuously escapes and flows like rapids reaching every nook and cranny of my body and once i open my mouth to speak it all pours out at once. My mind screams.
I’ve dealt with self-image problems and have always had a hard time accepting myself, and i still do sometimes. I’m ether completely there or completely missing. But at the end of the day, if i had to give an honest answer, i know i’m beautiful. Not physically, not because of the clothes i wear or the softness of my skin, but because of how my smiles stretches for miles, and the thought that i could warm myself with my heart.
I crave emotion, intimacy, openness, touch. I want my attention stolen, i want new feelings and experiences, wether it be across the world or in my own closet. I want to completely immerse myself in things, to drown in everything i’ve ever felt and pour myself into everyone i come across. I want to pour, and pour and pour, because once i found out i’m mostly made of water, i realized this is why i crave to be free, for my mind to run, to be open and deep and mysterious. To be delicate enough to give life…yet powerful enough to break boulders when i wish.
Outfit: My Mum Made It
Heels: Luxe to kill