The Anatomy Of Three Words

Scene 1:

Just outside your door, I coughed once. Adjusted my collar; took a whiff of my underarm: expensive cologne charms. Knock. Knock. Knock. You opened the door with your hair tied in a bun, and that dark maroon dress. Was it a blue eyeliner? “Shall we leave?” You grabbed my arms.

Scene 2:

“Love is overrated,” you said as you took another sip from a glass of bloody mary. Stranger is playing songs on guitar, idle chatter around the bar, your fingers tracing my lines of destiny: whatever happened to old-school romance. “You are way too sad, but I guess melancholy has its own charm,” you asserted with a half-seductive smile. “Come dance,” you dragged me. You were drunk enough to fall in my arms.

Scene 3:

“This is it, then?” you tapped the edges of the table. Tear-stained mascara, the stench of rotten past, and few memories too precious to reveal: we burn them all. “Listen to me,” you lean forward. “Don’t ruin us by saying it.” I nodded, and you kissed my forehead. I gulped down cheap alcohol, and you packed your belongings. I watched you go with a lump in my throat: too weak to admit; too fragile to just leave.

-from the Honest Musing via Facebook

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Thought Of The Day

Single people want relationships, settled people wonder if they’re missing out on something, traveling types miss stability, stable ones are restless, old friends want new friends, new friends miss old friends, and basically almost everyone my age has some dangling worry trailing around after them everywhere that they’re somehow not doing everything, that what they’re doing is not altogether the right thing, that they are missing out. Do not be ashamed. The doubt is natural, and everyone you know yes, even that person carries it sometimes too.

Allow yourself to be peaceful. Allow yourself satisfaction in what you have. If you really don’t like it, allow yourself permission to make changes.

– Lillian Schneider

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Harmony

My house is buried in the deepest recess of the forest, every year ivy vines grow longer than the year before. Undisturbed by the affairs of the world I live at ease, woodmen’s singing rarely reaching me through the trees.

While the sun stays in the sky, I mend my torn clothes and facing the moon, I read books aloud to myself. Let me drop a word of advice for believers of my faith.

To enjoy life’s immensity, you do not need many things.

– Ryokan

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Opaque

Some say I’m the quiet type
usually not the life of the party

I’d much rather stay home and
sip on a bottle of pineapple Bacardi

Reflect on life
and all of its meaning

Cook, listen to music
and spend all night dreaming

of what the future looks like
contemplate the afterlife

Don’t need to live rife
or excessively abundant

Don’t mean to sound redundant

Don’t need many friends
not quite sure how to trust

Hard to let down my guard
hard to adjust

my mind to the fact that
people don’t always act

with your best interest in mind
Will have you resigned

thinking they’ve left you behind
might have turned a blind eye

to all that you’ve given
over time

I won’t go into that deeper
probably because

I’m a peacekeeper
doesn’t mean I’m fragile

especially not a pushover

Doesn’t mean I’m a doormat
or someone you can get over

or disrespect in any way
shape or form

I’m out of the norm
don’t usually conform

to the thoughts and ideas
you might have of me

See

a girl like me
always knows

but doesn’t always show
or really disclose

how she feels

I’m like the calm before the storm
I like to keep the peace

but don’t think
you can get by with a wink

and a smile
Because after a while

I’ll put you on trial
and question your lifestyle

So even though
I’m the quiet type

I’m an original
not a prototype

Won’t stick to stereotypes
won’t fall for the hype

I’m just me
and I’ll continue to be

on this quiet path of happiness
where my spirit is completely free…

~Author: Carrie King

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To The Guy Who Thought That I wasn’t Good Enough…

Thank you you for making me feel that I wasn’t someone worth fighting for. Thank you for making me question and doubt every little thing about myself. Thank you for making me second guess my actions. Thank you for making me feel unimportant and a nuisance in your life.

Thank you for letting me down countless times. Thank you for keeping secrets that everyone knew but me. Thank you for constantly lying about who you really are. Thank you for making a big fool out of me.

Thank you for bringing out my worst side.

Thank you for showing me that you can change for the better for someone else but you can’t for me.

Thank you for leaving even if I give you everything I had. Thank you for letting go and reminding me that I was the only one holding on.

Thank you for all the times you made me feel bad. Thank you for making me regret all the years I spent loving you.

Because if you hadn’t done all these things, I wouldn’t realize my worth. I wouldn’t realize that I should finally stop settling for any less than I deserve. I wouldn’t realize that I want to find a love that would never make me feel the same things you did.

And I know I will, eventually. I will find someone who appreciates everything I do. I will find someone who will never take me for granted. I will find someone who will treat me the way I should be treated.

I will find someone who will do everything you wouldn’t.

For now, knowing that is enough. I am enough. I know I am, even if you didn’t.

Words by: Micaela Andres

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A Letter To The Mistress From The Wife

Dear Mistress,

I have something to say to you.

Don’t worry, this will be brief.

I really didn’t think we’d hear from you again. I was under the impression that you were gone forever. I thought we had dismantled your body and dissolved the remains. Yet, judging by the sight of your tear stains and the lingering stench of low self-worth, that is not the case.

You’ve somehow crawled your way out of that dark, abandoned hovel where we banished your memory.

You must have been waiting for the perfect moment to reappear.

When everything seemed to be so promising and so pleasant.

When life was flowing effortlessly in our favored direction.

When we felt free to inhale and exhale with only the sweetest of breaths.

Well, I can’t say that it’s good to see you again.

But, perhaps it is.

Because now I can finally tell you what I really think of you.

Now I have an opportunity to put you in your rightful place.

You see, mistress, this is not your place.

You don’t belong here.

You don’t belong in this void in which you have wedged yourself, somewhere between approval and rejection.

You don’t belong in the pause, the haze, the in-between.

You don’t belong in the maybe, the I’m not sure, the until something better comes along.

I know it may seem like this is home. But this is not your home.

You’ve just gotten used to these paper-thin prison walls.

I know you.

I know that you willingly give your love to those who can only toss it aside. Because you are terrified of what would happen if someone actually loved you back.

I know you only get involved with men who treat you like a pitstop on their way to greater destination.

I know you blame them. But they are not culprits, monsters, or the evil manipulators you may want them to be.

You are the only one responsible for putting yourself here. You are the only one to blame.

You are not a victim to anything except your lack of self-consideration.

Life will give you more of what you give to it.

If you show disregard for that heart that beats through you and as you, life will only bring you those people who will do the same.

Because while you may pretend that everything is okay as it is, while you may project a false air of self-reliant indifference, while you may act as if you don’t care for the ones that share your bed,

I know that you are lying.

I know that you want more than what you’ve been getting.

I know that you want something genuine, something reciprocal, something real.

I know that you want to feel loved as I am loved.

It might be scary to ask for it, but I know you want it.

And now I need to tell you, since you clearly don’t believe it:

Mistress, you are lovable and you are loved.

You are no one’s second choice.

You are no one’s back up plan.

You are no one’s side gig, part-time hole, some time hearth.

You are not a convenient object of use.

You are not a casual hobby or a passing fad.

You are not a receptacle for emotions, worries or bodily fluids.

You are someone to be admired.

You are someone to be adored.

You are someone to be sure about.

All of you is desirable.

Mistress, all of you is lovable and all of you is loved.

You do not have to settle for bits of fickle attention.

You do not have to hold onto scraps of false affection.

You are deserving of an entire feast of love.

Sweet talk will coat your ears and rot your heart.

Promises mean nothing when not intended to be kept.

You can learn the difference between authentic and illusory.

You can learn to trust your instinct.

You will never again have to feel used.

You will never again have to feel needy.

You will never again have to coerce, pressure, or force someone’s commitment.

Because mistress, you are lovable and you are loved.

You are always loved by the infinite presence that created you.

Call it God, call it the Universe, call it whatever you will.

Life created you just as you are.

And it loves you just as you are.

You can feel this love whenever you want to.

It is always present and it is always yours.

You are connected to all of life.

When you have love for yourself, you have love for all of life.

And when you love all of life, it will love you right back.

In a way you always hoped you’d be loved.

In a way you never before have allowed yourself to be.

Remember and live this truth.

Life will always match you at the level of your truth.

And at some point, life will bring you another person who values you as much as you value yourself.

When you truly feel this—when you trust this like you trust your pulse—then you will find yourself in the position in which I stand

Contrary to what you may have thought, I don’t hate you. In fact, it is quite the opposite.

I only hold the highest of hopes and intentions for you.

Because I was you and I am you.

Because I love you and I love us.

With immense respect and an infinity of gratitude,

~ Wife

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Text via Elephant Journal

Timely

We are a generation that replaces, that doesn’t repair, that doesn’t try, because we are busy in the race of life. We are too cool, too rigid, with “I don’t give a fuck” attitude, and we are too confident that, we can find other people who will be so much better than these stupid people who once were an inseparable part of our life. We break up on text messages, we end friendships by a whatsapp message followed by un-friending, unfollowing on every social media portal. I mean, seriously? Texts, the most fucked up form of communication that only and solely causes confusion and communication gaps!

I am not saying, keep chasing, keep running behind that person, but at least give it one shot? Drop them a text, place a call, and talk, try to figure it out. I know it’s easy to find yourself new cool chaps to hang out with, go grab a drink with, and dance the weekend away, but don’t you think for all the times you people were there for each other when no one else was, do you think you’ll be able to find someone; who you’ll run to when your heart is breaking, who you’ll run to when you need to approach that guy you’ve been crushing since forever, someone who you want to share every tiny detail of your day, who you run to when you need those arms to heal you, who you’ll call when you have no words to explain what’s happening in your head and heart. I think, “your person” should be given one chance, what you shared should be given one chance. The numerous emotions, memories, etc deserve one chance?

-by Divyar Rikhari

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Unspoken Thoughts

I’m afraid that one day, you’ll get bored of me. That I won’t be as attractive to you, my personality won’t be as interesting, flirting with me won’t be as fun, spending time with me won’t be as special, you’ll have less to say when we talk, you won’t touch me like you want me. There won’t be anything new about me that will surprise you, and then you’ll start to look for someone to replace me.

If that happened…

Just please don’t lie to me. Tell me the truth, even if it’ll hurt me. I’d rather hear it from you than other people, cause finding things out that way is the worst way. Be honest with me, even if it’ll make me upset, even if it’ll lead to us being separated. It’s better than you lying to my face, keeping secrets from me, making me believe you’re being real with me. Lies have a way of revealing themselves in the long run, so why lie in the first place? I don’t ask for much, but the one thing I ask is not to lie to me, cause once I find out, I don’t know if I can ever trust anyone the same way again…

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