∆ Neural Alchemist | Self-mythologist ∆
I miss being comfortable in my body. Every mourning I wake to discomfort and nausea that can last hours.
I miss wine. I miss being able to eat and not eat whenever as I pleased. This baby is taking away my freedom. I am a slave to my baby.
By choice with trust of course though.
Trying to remember how to forgive and be grateful to those who have caused me harm. They are my greatest teachers, though I pray for more gentle lessons, which I ensure by trying my best to learn and trust my intuition the first time. I will always choose peace, love, and safe spaces. I get it when they say “hate is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die”. I’ve drank that poison. I’m drinking it now, and also healing and actively retraining my brain to stop. It’s an irritating process that requires accountability and moral. Sometimes my ego tries to convince me to match energy. Don’t get me wrong I feel my real feelings and express. but when you know better, you do better, can’t sit in it for too long or it’ll consume you. I used to not mind being consumed, but it gets old when life goes on and you realize suffering is inevitable. Part of life, nature, balance. I vow to not be one of those hurt people that hurts people. Compassion is something one must continue to cultivate. It is a wisdom that contributes to a more positive community…. And now I remember.
“Be the change you wish to see in the world”- Ghandi
Woman body don’t give a fuck about that shit
Young self holds the messenger
Hidden burdens are turned to birds and
We learn to hold our sticks and stones and
We fold to break our own arms leading the way to pave
Make ends meet with woman’s meat
What a dog that eats dog girls
Woman’s bodies don’t give a fuck about rocking a foreign world
Key whispers from chosen Gods in dress
Remembering
Sometimes I catch a scent; smell something, and I remember having roommates for the first time. My own room. I used to paint my naked vessel and rejoice in what I thought was adulthood. Silly naive me.
Sometimes I hear a song. It takes me back. I feel my belly drop to my toes as my tear ducts instinctively fills up, releasing the sight of my being… In the psychiatric unit having a time. I’ve never felt so safe, so understood. I will never forget my time in X.
All the beautiful lost souls I met and loved. I pray they too found themselves again. My baby, I was so young. I used to feel so sad. I am free from all of that. Hurt, pain. I am sending love to my inner child always.
I don’t know where I’m from,but I’m dancin atop the lakes of MN. If my maternal cracks.
God bless us all.
Holder of safe spaces. I will not buy into the illusion. I’m not in love; I’m disgusted.
Woman from Venus. My North Star. She’s too sensitive for y’all mothfuckers.
I played hand and hand with death
Just for fun
Because I loved it
Milkyways and eggshells shadows glinted
I gravitated
I’ve been disassociating more this past week. Zoning out, going to different realities and freezing. Yesterday while driving I forgot where I was, where I was going, and what I was doing for like 10 seconds before I remembered. I was looking around frantically trying to grab hold of something I could remember. And while in the car with X he was handing me money and talking something I could care less about and I was elsewhere and I heard him but was unable to understand him. I’m neutral about it. Just observing. Curious to see what’s the root to my aloofness…
Today was a weird day and when I got X… and looked him in the eye. I felt grounded with his being, his golden beam. I locked eyes for as long as I could. And I felt home.
Freegrandmaa 