Tag: divine intervention

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The heavens of womanhood.

Revelations of my souls essence.

Emerging ashes saturated in a deliciously delicate black hole of grit.

You know, the usual.

And you?

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July 4, 2017

We’re back in Ohio. The short trip to New York has left me heartbroken with an immense sense of loneliness. Did I do something wrong? My whole life I’ve been called to New York and what I thought was going to be a trip filled of connection, bliss, fun. I am disappointed. I ask if I’m meant to be alone. Am I a fraud are my instincts and intuition not to be trusted? What happens now? So many unanswered questions accumulate in my mind. Waiting for answers. I question alot. I can’t go home. And so here I am in my van in front of X’s house waiting for a sign. I want to dig my feet into the soils and refuse to move until I hear what I need to hear. I need reassurance. Anything.

My sanity is under question as I start to see more and more of my father in myself. The thought alone puts fear in my heart. I tell myself things are different. Am I lying to myself. Am I being honest with myself. Am I being selfish for being distant. How to relationship. I have no healthy coping skills. God doesn’t care to give me one. Loneliness will be the death of me in this world. New York has completely mind fucked me. My spirit is broken. How will I heal from this. What did I do wrong? Please tell me. If I answer myself I will only fall deeper at the hand of my response.

I need to get outta my head. I stay in my head. I need to get outta my head.

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July 2, 2017

The past few days have left me in a state of confusion. I lay here questioning my sanity, my place, my purpose. Am I insane? And I not who I think I am? Who am I? What am I?

Everyday I feel more and more alone. This is a loneliness I haven’t felt in a while. I wish to leave, but I don’t know where. There’s only one place I can afford to go. I won’t be back. I’m struggling to keep my faith. I know I’d be dead without it. it’s all I have left. But what do I even have faith in? A new world? A spiritual evolution? Love? Myself? What is holding me back? Why New York? I wonder what would happen if I just ran. Ran to be by myself, away from society, away from people, away from this world. I’m alien, and not like the ones I see on the streets who’ve adapted themselves to this lifestyle of illusion. New York I hate you and you’ve brought me down to the dumps. You’ve kicked me while I was down. A reflection I don’t like. A spit in my face.

Two middle fingers up. I don’t know why people live in dense spaces like this. Trash everywhere, modern day slaves with solid fashion senses and smart phones. Gluttonous consumerist. drunks all over in the streets. I’m definitely bitter from my inaccurate expectations. Spirit I beg you to lead me, or let me go. I need some sort of validation to carry on.

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June 29, 2017

I woke up at 6am for the first time in weeks on my own and I gotta say I’m refreshed. Today X and I explore, waiting for something we’re not quite sure of. We’re near Chinatown and based in a nice neighborhood. X is adjusting; culture shock. Honestly I feel grounded, worse come to worst van life is always a backup plan. This feels natural. although New York truly lacks places of nature and alone spaces, I feel like I can quickly adjust.

God here I sit. I’m here now. Reveal to me my purpose; my calling. My arms are out stretched, I’m ready for what lies ahead. Also give X comfort in this big city. I know he’s overwhelmed and I ask that you release the pressure he’s feeling and allow him to loosen up, accept flow. I have faith in our purpose I wonder if he does still and if it’ll work if he doesn’t. I believe this is the first of many adjustments that’ll pull us out of our comfort zones.

Hurry up and find us, so X can breathe. New York be good to us.

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September 7, 2016

The first time I fell in love with another it was during a low time in both of our lives. It was long distance for most of the time. He would call me everyday even though I was sleeping, even though we didn’t have a thing to say. And I would write and send him intimate poetry every week. He didn’t understand it, but he understood me. As usual; after some time, we stopped seeing each other. And well, the phone calls slowly stopped coming as frequent, and my hands were too tire to write or feel. Our lives intensified. Soon silence.