Cognitive Sibling Rivalry

I’m making room for Joy in my heart, I think I’m ready to invite her back in. It’s been too long since her presence graced my insides, she’s been greatly missed. 

I had been foolish to find refuge in the likes of her persuasive brother, who easily convinced me that his presence was all that I required to make by, that she was unnecessary. 

I’m finding now that there is room for both, her and her brother, in the home that is my mind. They can both be, her and Melancholy. There is no reason his totalitarian reign must continue to draw a cold, stiff aura into these walls without the slightest intervention. A balance must exist. They must both be, here, dancing in this synchronized way, dueling in a battle of opulent wits. 

Yes, they are both guests, and I must be a patient host, allowing each their turn without allowing myself to fall prey to any hint of bias. 

Chasing the Man in the Moon 

Something about before that spelled opportunity 

Like anything was possible 

As though nothing was too vast or difficult to conquer the way so many things seem now

There were no inhibitions 

Magic was as commonplace as its absence seems now

Hope echoed in the innermost circle of the Elysium that was our imagination, radiating warmth so that we were at peace inside and out 

And it is kind of hard to acknowledge that it all changed so quickly 

A moment, or some indefinite span of time,

What does it really matter?

The magic is gone 

And reality is here

The truth sharply jabs at us as we try to experience the happiness we once felt unconditionally in the form of an ephemeral high 

Daydreaming of the bliss

That’s the thing about letting go of the past 

It’s immensely more difficult to let go of that which brought us joy than that which was painful

Things are not as glorious as they could’ve been 

We have been stripped of opportunity 

Someday is here, and we have nothing to show 

We ran with all our might toward the grand, magnificent Moon, 

Hoping to witness him up close in all of his greatness 

Only to find a small white speck that we must squint to discern, his true form

The curtain falls, the charade is over

We look around and at each other

Even you look different 

Less patient, disappointment has weathered your soul 

The promise of Nirvana was as fruitless as the chase of the source of the light that we seemed to have made up inside our heads 

There is only darkness now 

Where do we go from here?

Pre-REM

It’s late. I’m sleepy, but I felt there was something I needed to say. I can’t quite remember what it is anymore, I’ll probably end up dreaming about it though.

I guess I’ve been thinking about how tired I am of pain, in all its forms. The process of feeling, completely, is no longer something I think I have the energy to maintain simply for its sake.

There’s pretty music playing somewhere in the back of my mind now, feels like the start of something new, something less still, something rather than nothing. 

I am finding that it is time to make the transition into living for myself, I am excited at the prospect of discovering what that will mean. 

I believe I am finally ready to emerge from the ashes of my former self, anew. 

I am allowing myself to sink comfortably into the river of my self, no longer afraid. It is not that I have learned to swim. Rather, I now know that drowning is an essential experience. The world beneath the water is dreamier than that above it. 

I am ready to find out what I’ve missed on the pursuit to achieve what never existed. 

I am transforming. I am learning, slowly, what it means to live. 

Cultivation of Pain

Newfound radiance, I’m learning to feel again

New set of eyes, I think I can see again

Though lost still we remain

Something slowly emerges from the ashes 

Hope 

And hope rises 

So too do we 

 Up and up, higher 

We are elated, for the moment

Let’s enjoy this 

He is there 

I am here 

We remain seperate 

Let’s learn to make our peace with that

Peace we used to know

Peace we are learning to cultivate once again

From the pain 

Yes, 

Let us cultivate hope and peace from the pain we didn’t know what to do with yesterday 

Let us give it purpose 

Gifts from the Ghost of Happiness Past 

You know those happy dreams?

The ones that make you sad?

Because you didn’t appreciate the people in them 

And now you can’t 

The happy thoughts and moments 

That break your heart

Because you didn’t soak them in 

And now you can’t 

Don’t you wanna hold her hand 

Now that you can’t 

And stare into those somber eyes, searching for secrets, until you can’t remember who you are anymore 

Don’t you wanna breathe in that compassion

That passion 

That honesty 

Where did the time go?

Is it slipping still?

How often do we make these memories

That never quite perish from our subconscious 

That linger somewhere in our mind 

Lulling our anxieties

For all of eternity

I’d like to tell you that I miss you 

That there are some things that I think I forgot to say

But the raindrops on my window are telling me that you heard them anyway

Melancholic Madness 

It’s really all very horrible, the way things happen. Life sort of just runs at the speed of light in circles around you, expecting you to somehow be able to keep up. There’s a sense of urgency poking at you somewhere inside. Either there’s something missing or there’s too much of everything, you are suffocating regardless. 
Breathing gets more difficult, until you just aren’t able to do it anymore–you just sit there, unable to scream or move or be. You can see the dust in the air float as the sunlight shines through the window, there are brief moments of pleasure. But those go away, and they aren’t quite as close to the happiness you know you must’ve felt in greater amounts at some point. 

There are no tears, there is no remorse– this is a different kind of pain. This is slower, intangible, invisible, but very much present. The air clutches your throat and demands you to live, and yet, refuses to release you from its grasp. 

Why?” 

I don’t know. That’s the worst bit. I just, I don’t know. I don’t think I can. I try to find peace in believing that it wouldn’t matter even if I did. 

Sway of the Pendulum 

Forgetting what it feels like to believe in magic 

To have hope 

To have faith 

To have the will to continue to live 

For the sake of it 

Because the beauty in that is evident

Because we have the ability to 

Forgetting what it feels like to want to 

To have aspirations beyond what is necessary 

Beyond what is plain 

Beyond what is easy

I am crumbling 

From the inside out 

I am perishing 

What I was is not what I am 

What I am 

Is gone