2024年12月15日
Flowers, specifically roses. From white to pink, blooming and tickling my nose. Once withered, dried and admired. Bouquets of memories and smiles. A christmas tree adorned in silver, sparkling with a bright star, and a fire blazing a warmth of light flickering against the room. There is softness and there is safety. Little blooms of pink in a vase. A deep feeling of love throughout my blood, my heart repairing itself and pumping energy. A soft touch. Pink pearls and dazzling little diamonds. Little orbs specked with jewels. Riding through the night with heat flowing through the vehicle. A stack of books that made me scream with excitement with how much I adore them. Being perfumed and soft. Softness. Yes, gentle, soft, warm, and languid. Tasting amazing things. The heart is a flowing fountain of love. An excitement for life, and for the future. Passion. Dreams of a kitten, adorning with bow and bell. Yes, is this what it feels like to step into an entirely new life? To feel excited for everyday, and what is to come? Hold my heart gently, angels, gently, gently. Love, love, love, love.
2024年12月1日
What about me? What about me? I want more. I want to hide. Yes, my brain and heart are exploding and the blood is dripping down me, sparkling in the candlelight. Serving my own heart on a platter for myself. Wailing on the floor like some newborn child and looking up to God. To disappear. . . To hide. To live... and not cry
2024年11月8日
Putting on cooling lip gloss with sparkles in it to plump my lips. 45 minute pressure point massage. Wandering like a phantom. Took my pills. Walking with a pump in my step. Pleasurable. Looking into the mirror into my pupils wondering where she is. Oh she is there for sure. Sparkles in my eyes. Dancing naked.
2024年11月3日
Words: Paracosm, tryst, escape, elope, freedom, lotus eater, anoesis.
In Greek mythology, the lotus-eaters (Greek: λωτοφάγοι, translit. lōtophágoi) were a race of people living on an island dominated by the lotus tree, a plant whose botanical identity is uncertain. The lotus fruits and flowers were the primary food of the island and were a narcotic, causing the inhabitants to sleep in peaceful apathy. After they ate the lotus, they would forget their home and loved ones and long only to stay with their fellow lotus-eaters. Those who ate the plant never cared to report or return.
Figuratively, 'lotus-eaters' denotes "people who spend their time indulging in pleasure and luxury rather than dealing with practical concerns".
(ˌænouˈisɪs) noun. a state of mind consisting of pure sensation or emotion without cognitive content.
Take the jump.
2024年11月2日
Caged bird. Caged birds think flying is an illness. Do I cage myself, or am I caged? Gnawing. I feel the tears well inside me, but they won't arrive to my eyes. Hot bath will be well. Deja vu over and over again. Deja vu. I feel like the sky could open up and take me, and I would not even be surprised. Do I await the same things over, and over, deja vu deja vu. I want to dream. I want to realize dreams into reality. But once again I feel like a little lamb, lost in a forest, legs shaking. But isn't this what one feels when something great is about to happen?
2024年11月1日
I have been so tired. Yes, an eternal restlessness. A tiny headache today. Stepped into the tub, scalding hot water. Flowery wash with sponge. Today is a new moon. I desire so much. I must remind myself that a single act of carelessness can result in the eternal loss of beauty.
Putting scented oils on.
Thinking about barn owls. About warmth. About a new life. Oh, my weary soul.
“My soul spoke to me in a whisper, urgently and alarmingly: ‘Words, words, do not make too many words. Be silent and listen: have you recognized your madness, and do you admit it? Have you noticed that all your foundations are all completely mired in madness?’ ”
“There are hellish webs of words, only words . . . Be tentative with words, value them . . . for you are the first who gets snared in them. For words have meanings. With words you pull up the underworld. Word, the paltriest and the mightiest. In words the emptiness and the fullness flow together." -Jung
Words: Sweeting, lambkin, button.
To have someone speak poetry to you. Whisper to you, to love. The urge to be in my high tower and to contemplate, but fervor urges me. Being pushed and pulled by my own psyche to just lay softly down on my bed. To kiss, and to feel. Words are so very opaque.
Ah, here they come—the tears, perched at the edges of my eyelids, yearning to glide down my face like raindrops escaping from leaves after a heavy shower. Silently, slowly.