She Doesn’t Need A Man or A Goddamn Warrior

She used to though…

Long, long ago.

She used to dream about it and make moonlit wishes on tumbling stars and hope that one day he’d arrive with his mysterious, full heart and laced-up combat boots, ready to fight demons and scatter his endless love.

But not anymore.

Now she needs space, and solitude, and wide-open doors.

She needs air in her lungs and to let life fully seep into the hollow of her bones, and pulse straight through the dusty chambers winding around her heart.

She knows the single path is not always easy—it can feel isolating, harsh, unforgiving, and it is racked in loneliness at times.

However, it forces her to dig far beneath the silken layers of her flesh and to question exactly what ancient potion, stardust, strength, and substance she is made from. And mostly, it makes her feel fiercely alive.

It provokes her to twist and turn, and the lone-wolf road urges her to courageously march onwards, untying and unraveling her knotted quirks and forgiving her flaws as she goes.

In the past, she has fallen for the honeyed charms of gallant men and for charismatic rogues who cleverly disguised themselves as fearless warriors with captivating words—but with their origami feelings neatly padlocked away.

They were temporary, wondrous distractions that caused her to waver and melt, but they burned deep holes in her chest so her guarded, restless mind refused them all and repeatedly told her, “No, this one may feel familiar but, darling, he is not the one for you.”

Although she wasn’t always willing to listen, a higher power inherently knew how to interrupt their callings and found a way to steer her back on track and keep her distance from heartbreak and harm.

Yes, she feels wretched sadness at times, and there is an aching emptiness hiding in moments that catch her off guard. She craves intimate, soul-deep connections with curious, precious, magnetic souls, but she was meant for far more than to be tied down to one-half of a flailing relationship. What she really needs is to breathe in mystery and flutter wild and free.

She is a hurricane within a tornado, and she has her own inner calming, invincible love that keeps her safe and tenderly protected through storm-fueled, long, dark nights.

She is her own silent muse, her own inexhaustible cosmic force, and she is her own goddamn warrior, alone in an entire galaxy wrapped in soft velveteen skin.

She doesn’t need candy-coated promises or commitments smoothly bound with a band of gold, and she definitely doesn’t need to hear four-letter words spoken with enchantment to know her worth.

She only yearns for the sight of the vast ocean, to hear the whisperings from leaves falling from trees, and to feel the wind tangling up her hair to know that she is loved.

She won’t tirelessly search, but if a man or even a warrior someday appears and he doesn’t try to steal her magic and glow, then she will recognize him and possibly want him near—and though she may cherish and adore him, she will never, ever need him.

She is already everything that she needs.

~Author: Alex Myles

Daily Prompt 

Structure

The beautifully pronounced structure of Hydrangea Quercifolia leaf. Look at the color variations, the unmistakable shape, the curl edging… I can admire it for hours.

Enamored

… with the works of H. P. Lovecraft, Edgar Allan Poe, and Stephen King. I can sympathize with and relate to them personally. I might not write in the same genre but in the dark corridors of my head dwell the same horrors, the same twisted thoughts that are more real than reality itself. I adore this trio. I love how their minds work. They are the pyramid of my belief in written words, in the power of writing, in the beauty of story telling. They are the corner stones of my passion for creating tales, my source of inspiration. I will be forever in awe of their talents.

Witch_II_by_love_chizue

Rhyme

I believe the king of rhyme is Theodor Seuss Geisel otherwise known as Dr. Seuss. Reading his works is like drinking champagne or a cocktail. Because it goes smoothly the effect doesn’t hit home at first sip until much, much later when you realize how potent actually the message is. You know what they say…bubbly gets you drunk quicker.

I used to do it in high school for pocket money, writing poems, mostly for lovesick teenagers trying to woo their crushes. I find that rhyming is the easiest form of poetry. Every one can rhyme. But not everyone can rhyme meaningfully. And in such playful manner without losing the essence intent implication and substance of the point you want to come across. And that’s where Dr. Seuss genius excels. I am not a fan but I’m impressed. And I give credit where credit is due. Here’s an example:

OH, THE PLACES YOU’LL GO!

You have brains in your head.

You have feet in your shoes.

You can steer yourself

Any direction you choose.

You’re on your own. And 

you know what you know.

And YOU are the guy who’ll

decide where to go.

You’ll get mixed up,

of course, as you already know.

You’ll get mixed up with

many strange birds as you go.

So be sure when you step.

Step with care and great

tact and remember that

Life’s A Great Balancing Act.

And will you succeed?

Yes! You will, indeed!

(98 and ¾ percent guaranteed.)

Homage

To the girl who needs to fall back in love with herself,

You’re going to be more than okay.

It’s very normal to abandon yourself in a toxic love in the effort to keep the relationship. And that’s usually when we start to fall out of love with ourselves. When this happens we hand over our whole self-worth and significance to another person, and before we know it our mood and happiness becomes entirely dependent on them.

When that relationship ends we don’t know how to live, let alone how to be happy without them. The truth is you’re going to be more than okay – there is so much light and happiness ahead if you chose to let go, and fall back in love with yourself.

Stop fighting the old.

Don’t try to understand why the person did what they did. You can spend years analyzing and still never know. Why they did it is not important. What’s important is the right now. The new.

Trying to fight the old is a battle you will never win because your wasting all your energy that you can be using to build the new, to innovate the life you actually want to live.

Refuse to entertain your old pain.

The pain I felt when my ex-betrayed me will always be a part of me because it shaped me and taught me much more than a happily ever after ever could.

Some love isn’t the kind that results in the fusing of two lives into one, but instead can give you new life, a life that has more love than you have ever seen. Understand that some love is meant to change your life rather than give you someone to grow old with.

Learn to let go.

You cannot move forward with your life with one foot on the brakes. Sometimes we don’t want to let go of our pain because it’s the only thing still attaching us to our ex – let go of your pain and you let go of our ex, sometimes we’re not ready for that.

I held on to the hurt for a long time. But the energy it took to hang on to the past was holding me back from living my life fully. When your heart is broken open, new light gets in. Embrace it.

Forgive.

I know that heartbreak feels like a stab wound to the heart, but understand that someone can be madly in love with you and still not be ready. Forgive them. Someone’s past, their demons, whatever the reason is, some people are not ready for love and happiness and will push you away.

Understand that they haven’t done the work to be ready and you cannot convince or inspire anyone to do the work, you are only responsible for yourself.

Love them from afar.

When someone touches your heart, they will infinitely be there. But when your mood became entirely dependent on them, it becomes a toxic relationship and you lose the love for yourself. Don’t be frustrated if you still love them, just be sure to love them from afar.

Understand your worth.

The first step to falling back in love with yourself is understanding what you are and are not willing to compromise on. Never abandon yourself in the effort to keep someone or something.

Don’t regret anything.

Mistakes are inevitable in a life worth living. As long as you learn from them, mistakes are very important. They teach you exactly what you want and who you want to be.

Maybe you fought with your ex too much, maybe you argued with them at inopportune times. But your anger was fueled by your passion and emotions for them. You cared. You loved them. Don’t regret it.

All that pain and frustration shaped you.

You cried, you laughed, you were alive, and that changed your life. All that pain produced understandings that have created a new level of living.

You now have a chance to be happier than you have ever been before – you can realize everything that is holding you back and create a life that you want to live.

Learn to love your edges.

You loved your ex’s edges, all their roughness. Their imperfections were perfect to you. Why can’t you do that for yourself? There’s nothing you loved more than holding their hand and whispering words of reassurance in their ear, because you knew they weren’t broken, they were just bent. Do that for yourself. Love those gory bits, grow into your own wrongness.

Crave more from yourself.

You confronted your ex a lot. You craved more from them – you had opinions and big dreams for the future, you wanted the best for them.

You never let them get away with slacking on their talents – do the same for yourself. There is a more extraordinary love out there that you would never know if it didn’t end it with the last one. But the extraordinary has to start with you – fall back in love with yourself and let everybody else come searching for you.

Words by: Anna Bashedly

Angles, Corners and Intersections.

At any street corner the feeling of absurdity can strike any man in the face. -Albert Camus

Visceral

I’d like to think that my posts embodied this very word. For the record, I am not doing it deliberately, it’s just me; I’m all feelings, instincts, and intuitions following and trusting them most of the times. Mind you I do follow my feelings but I take my wits with me, always. I’m not doing that deliberately either. Just my genetic makeup. I am who I am. If you doubt the authenticity of my claim, check this out and this for examples and tell me what you think. I would like to believe also that I am not all feelings all the time. Sometimes I (think) I wrote articles that relating more to the intellect rather than mere feelings. Check this, this and this out if you have the time to explore to have an idea what I mean. I will always be me, leaning on the dark sides writing from the heart and serving it raw without embellishments. No wonder I am not popular. But I will gladly take the anonymity anytime versus writing for likes, comments, popularity, and applause losing my self and my core in the process. No, thank you. I rather be me than follow the crowd, adapt herd mentality and become who I am not. I have to stay true to myself. Hence my gravatar only dead fish go with the flow. I know, I know, we are here to share and be read or otherwise why not keep a bedside journal instead of pouring our hearts online and I agree. We all want to be heard/read that’s why we are here but (and it’s a big but) not at the cost of your own true self. I don’t believe in writing for an audience (unless of course if you have to to pay the bills) I call it forced creativity and I am not a big fan of anything forced. Nothing good can come out of it. I’m talking out of experience. Before I have a verdict I sample the wares first so I would know what I’m blabbing about. Before I run, I want to know what it is I am running from. And after running around with the usual crowds I find out that being a copy of the majority in order to belong is a too high price to pay. It made me unhappy and feeling like a fake I don’t even recognize my own self. It’s easier though than swimming against the current but things that are worthy are worth flexing some muscles. Good exercise. Keep the body and mind healthy. And I’m getting sidetracked again so I will leave you here and till next time.

Ooze

I tried not to think of you today. I tried so hard, but I failed beautifully.

You showed up, as a lone tear streaming down my cheek. You showed up as a shy ghost haunting my thoughts. You showed up, like a piece of prized jewelry, a precious heart-shaped locket that should be sitting proudly on my collarbone, but instead got lost on a busy city sidewalk and now belongs to someone new.

From the moment I woke up this morning, I knew something was missing. My smile, beaming as it was, had holes in it.

There was a stark hollowness in my bones. A tiny rip in the fabric of my heart. Something dark that whispered to me in moments where it got too quiet. Something that ached deeply when the church bells rang at exactly noon.

I went outside to hear them.

With each tender ding, ding ding—the dancing bells told me the truth.

Something is missing from me—it’s you.

Your heart. Your kiss. Your voice.

I can try to pretend I’m not hurting; I can try to pretend I’m strong and brave, but my insides feel like tiny scraps of ripped lace and pretending hurts more than admitting the truth—

I miss you today.

I miss the delicious comfort of curling up beside you, our bodies tangled like pretzels in cozy, satisfied knots. I miss going for long walks, our arms linked together, for what seemed it would be an eternity, our steps matched to the frantic rhythms of our happy heartbeats. I miss talking to you about my day—and hearing about all the tiny, beautiful details of yours. I miss knowing you’d text me when you wake in the morning, with a heart. Always with a heart.

I miss you today.

There are moments where the sudden falling apart of our love feels like too much to bear. The grief comes crashing in waves, ranging from dull to epic, and full-on unbearable. Right now, a salty wave of unbearable sadness pulses through my body, it barrels rudely through my bones—and I wish you were here. Next to me. Holding my hand. Smiling your crooked little smile. Making stupid jokes.

I don’t need you to take away my pain with your presence.

I need to be with this pain.

Alone.

It’s the only way.

But my heart still reaches out to you anyway—even though you can’t feel it. Or hear it. My fingertips reach out to join yours, but they can’t find you through this vast, echoing distance, and my touch can’t puncture these icy walls we’ve built up around us.

For a tiny, torturous second, I swear I feel your soft kiss in the breeze, I swear I feel you thinking about me, but it’s not; it can’t be. All that hangs in the cool afternoon air is the unfamiliar scent of a future without you in it.

As the church bells end their song, a painfully beautiful six minutes later, I exhale and swallow sharply, walking back inside slowly to go about my day.

As long as my heart is beating, life must go on.

There are sugar cookies to decorate and family members to drink coffee with and emails to check and tender stories to write. So, I will go about my day. Even though I hurt. Even though I ache. Even though I can’t think straight.

As long as my heart is beating, life must go on.

Life must move forward, even if it’s moving forward without you.

Because I know deep down, we tried. We tried so hard. We tried too hard. We tried until we were both empty and hollow, exhausted and angry, not a drop of understanding left in our hearts. We tried until we yelled and screamed and couldn’t possibly try for a moment more.

We just couldn’t close the growing gap between us. We couldn’t compromise without compromising ourselves.

 

And that’s okay—our painful parting is a strange relief in its own twisted way.

But, today, it hurts. It hurts like a freshly cut wound. My insides feel like tiny scraps of ripped lace and pretending I’m fine hurts more than admitting the truth—

I miss you today.

So, I make space for missing you. I honor all that you meant to me because you meant so much. You were a blazing light in my heart, a spark of inspiration to my thirsty world, a warm, tender love who challenged me and changed me, deeply and deliciously.

I honor you.

I can’t pretend this pain away because I don’t want to.

I miss you, in this moment, more than I’ve ever missed anyone.

And that’s where I am. It hurts, it throbs, it stings, but it’s also okay.

Because this sadness is so goddamn beautiful in its own way.

It’s like a dark red rose—ominous, surrounded by wickedly sharp thorns, but full of undeniable hope and unthinkable beauty.

And so is this moment.

Yes. I’m crying. But each tear shimmers with hope, it reeks of beauty, it pulses with the pristine possibility of solitude, of smiles yet to come, adventures yet to take, sweet memories to be made—even though the raw hurt of being without you still rattles through my entire body.

I miss you today, my sweet once-lover.

I miss you a lot.

And that’s perfectly okay.

Author: Sarah Harvey

Trance

Compartmentalizing without realizing,

My feelings keep on resizing and rearranging.

Changing positions to keep my heart safe,

Changing positions to keep my pride intact,

I react to failed attempts and failed attacks

Without a hint of emotion,

As if I’m unchanged by the notion.

While the devotion grows in a safe in my mind,

It lies behind gray matter in a box of things that matter.

I placed them there so they can’t shatter.

I thought I kept them behind glass for all to see,

But really, they’re behind an opaque shape of me.

And so a feeling grows and no one knows

And I expect them to really understand who I am,

When understanding wasn’t part of my initial plan.

The plan was to play it safe,

Using safes and locks and metal boxes,

Under the pretense that they are glass.

And if anyone asks I’m always okay.

Because never okay is never okay right?

When the feelings fight to resurface I’ll build more walls,

And more blocks, adding new locks.

These fortresses protect my most sacred parts.

But now in these hours of honesty and humanity…

I’m just dying to break down the walls,

And give someone all of me…

(found poetry)

Solitary

…should I join the humanity again which I willingly left a long time ago after I danced to their music and sang to their tune and found out that being ‘a copy’ of the majority is a TOO HIGH price to pay in order to belong?

Simon and Garfunkel say:

“I have my books

And my poetry to protect me

I am shielded in my armour

Hiding in my room, safe within my womb,

I touch no one and no one touches me.

I am a rock, I am an island

And a rock feels no pain,

And an island never cries.”

…I chose to be a recluse, a hermit; me and my four walls. I always follow my feelings. I do not think. I worry a lot but never think. Feelings guide me and they never disappoint. I always know what to do.

Lately, I’m afraid I am losing touch. I am becoming blind and confused. I CANNOT feel my way anymore. I’m just stumbling through the days; not really knowing what to do. I ‘m afraid I am losing my true north.

My SOLITARY WORLD had been full of vivid colours, powerful scents, complex feelings, dramatic sounds and it was amazingly three dimensional down to the tiniest of details!

NOT ANYMORE! Lately, it is grey, one dimensional and very flat and far away. As if I am not a part of it. Like watching a film; you are there but not part of what is happening. Like looking through an aquarium. A silent spectator. Hopeless and powerless.

Do I NEED somebody after all? Do I have to be part of the world I despise so much? Am I not the person I thought I am? Is personal freedom not really important as much as I thought it is?

Or I’m getting old and starting to get MELLOW? Realizing for the first time that my own mortality, the things I once valued are not really that important?

Should I creep slowly out of my cave and end my HIBERNATION? See the world again, but this time not alone?

SHOULD I let somebody into my secrets and into my LIFE? SHOULD I?

GOD! It’s scary!

Unfurl

Emotional intelligence is growing as a recognizable and useful skill.

A step in developing emotional intelligence is learning how to identify and relate with people who are not awakened to their own emotional state and expressions. Emotional insecurity is common with people who do not recognize, see or value subtle sensitivities.

When attempting to be open-hearted with an emotionally insecure individual, they have core predictable responses. The stories will change, yet these energetic-attitude patterns are observable beneath the words.

My perspective of emotional security rests in a person’s inability to accept how another person feels, experiences life, and exists. The emotionally insecure person is challenged by existential differences.

This list of personal experiences reflects my insight, both as a person who feels insecure at times, and who relates with and loves people who also have insecurities. These are not judgments about a person’s character, yet identifying personality patterns can turn an old fight into a new response.

1. Defensiveness.

A person who is under attack and feels pressured will be defensive. It is a natural response for every person and just because a person is feeling defensive doesn’t make them emotionally insecure.

The reason a person becomes defensive is because emotions tap into identity and self-esteem. Without an awareness and capacity to operate with emotions, the emotional realm and its expression and languages are frightening.

Frightened people respond in two ways, either running from or fighting with the trigger. It takes time to see and operate securely with emotions and sensitivities.

Emotional insecurity is identified when a person is so defensive they are unable to hear or accept differences of any degree. Even everyday, scientifically provable facts can become a point of contention. When it comes to differences in feelings the mere presence of emotion and feeling can trigger the defensive reaction.

This entire list is varieties of defensive responses.

2. Redirection.

The emotionally insecure person will redirect blame, fault or mistake back onto the person who brings legitimate concerns.

In a secure relationship, all topics of conversation are open for discussion. Asking for clarification or bringing up a personal point or perspective remains a cause for celebration. Unfortunately, attempts to communicate become the cause for conflict and separation.

When a person does not feel safe emotionally, redirection can be a powerful tool for not owning one’s own participation and never having to take responsibility.

3. Misdirection & Storytelling.

Similar to redirection, misdirection takes responsibility and places it on an object or circumstance rather than the person bringing the concern.

Whether it was the booze, the full moon, astrological birth sign, or childhood event, misdirection blinds a person to what is happening in the moment. Even when there is legitimacy in the misdirection, it becomes a way to not hear and see the person as they are showing up, now.

Even legitimate, truthful reasons can be used for hiding emotionally.

Just because something happened in the past and influenced this moment does not make it the cause or thing that needs to be discussed. In talking about the past and over-analyzing what a person shares, the individual and the opportunity to deepen relationship are missed.

Rather than looking at what is really happening and being communicated, the cause remains unaddressed. A lot of endless, circular talking happens until one person takes responsibility and acts from their own center.

4. Comparison.

Just because people or circumstances are similar, comparison confuses the real issue. Rather than hearing and seeing a person or issue plainly, a filter is added. This creates confusion.

A son is not just like his father, a daughter is not just like her mother. People of any ethnicity, age, background, though similar, are completely individual and unique. The new person in one’s life is not just like an old, even if there are common points. Not all Christians, Muslims, Hindus or Discordians are the same. Each is an individual.

Reality is totally missed when framing a person as “just like so and so” or taking a situation and saying “its just like this other time.”

They aren’t just like so and so.

And this moment has never happened before and never will again happen.

5. Invalidation.

Subtle and pernicious, invalidation strikes at a person’s emotional, existential core.

Invalidation makes a person wrong for feeling how they feel. The emotionally insecure person, incapable of working with and coping with their own emotions, invalidates and puts down whoever is attempting to communicate.

The most damaging of emotional defensive patterns, invalidation can be difficult to recognize.

“You are being too sensitive.” is the battle cry of invalidation. Its variations mock and undermine a person’s subtle perceptions of reality and relationships with other people.

Invalidation is difficult to communicate with words, it happens as a feeling. The result of invalidation is the loss of trust and security. It can happen quickly and without warning, often unintentionally with careless words.

A person knows when it happens, yet often times cannot recognize what has happened until after the experience.

While recognizing emotional insecurity is one step, learning to relate and navigate the effects of emotional insecurity takes time. It’s a learned skill dependent on self-knowledge. How a person relates to their own self, operating with their own emotional nature, is the foundation, attitude and exact same relationship style shared with other people. Learning to relate with emotional insecurity with others first depends on how one relates to it within, first.

The greatest challenge there is how a person treats their own self when feeling emotionally insecure. The dynamic and internal dialogue are the relationship traits one lives daily within and without.

There is no quick fix for emotional insecurity. It is normal. Self-knowledge remains the cure.

“And God said “Love Your Enemy,” and I obeyed him and loved myself.” ~ Khalil Gibran

Relephant: Via Keith Artisan

Grainy

I feel like a fish out of water, a bird in the sea

But in the mirror is a girl who looks just like me

She goes through each day like she did before

Suddenly she just isn’t content anymore.

 

Each day is so fake, words are so hollow

She takes all this in, but it’s hard to swallow

Who is she, this girl that I see?

We look so alike, but how can this be?

 

I’m a horse in the city, a dog in a cage

A little girl in a body that’s three times my age

That’s not me in the mirror, no not at all

This girl hangs her head low, I held mine up tall.

 

How did I get so out of place

I want to look in the mirror and see my real face.

I want to hold my head high, I want to see;

There’s a girl looking back, but… she isn’t me.

 

(from a stranger I don’t recall the name)

Random Thoughts

Getting to that point again where it doesn’t feel like the tiles on the floor are cold anymore and the boiling water is missing its bubbles and the boy looks right through you and doesn’t see your eyes. The silent screaming of a girl so unaware of the fact she will rise again and will not be left behind. The notations of quotations that cannot drown but try to swim to middle earth anyways.

Walking home alone is not as bad as being with none around you with no one surrounding you and when you go to say hello they fly back and warn you that they are dangerously in love with you and it’s better to stay right there.

Your career is chosen along with your haircut and the voice in the back of your head is saying something along the lines of today will be cloudy with a chance of depression. The sunny, sunny moon is up and he is so cold, he cannot talk, and when you whisper I miss you all he hears is his own voice the only thing that matters.

9:30 is going time and I don’t see it happening and the dress is waiting and so is my heart for the three words to see if they will ever return. Today be the last day for me to consume and seven will be empty but the results will tell a better story than the change rooms did.

The man with the name that does not please me will try to tease me but realizes I own this game and the time is stopping and my mineral water bottle is empty again. The food shall last a whole weeks’ time or I might have to run away for good and not look back at all that has failed me and not focus on the fact I am exactly what I hate and try to erase the past that prevails me and run, run, run!

(found among old documents)