But I drink it anyways.
The more time goes on, the more bitter I get; the complete opposite of what I strive.
I see the truth and falsity behind almost every eye yet I still look for something real anyway. It’s a shame how people are.
I watch looks of confirmation, observance and projection before me and still I am told to smile, wave, and greet the next.
It’s no wonder I want to be alone.
A part of me, the Self that loves All, looks for honest connection and communication.
I love people, I genuinely do. But I’d prefer them over there and I over here and that’s alright.
Sometimes I think I am lying to myself. Sometimes—no, almost always.
That’s the selfishness within me. And I also think that’s ok.
My life keeps going on without me as I watch it pass.
I get older and the days get colder and God knows if I’ll ever be young again.
I look for myself within every book I find. I pray less often than not and still its all the same.
I have nothing to ask for.
Only that I am led back to Myself again and again and hope I don’t lose something along with it.
If you ask me anything nowadays , you’ll most likely only get a shrug. I’ve always been good with having opinions yet I despise the thought of even owning one.
Bitter, I tell you. I don’t want to hear any of it.
Yet without all the sound we have no art, and even that’s a lie.
I look for myself in almost everything. Hoping to find something good and worth writing about.
I don’t need love to write; something I had sworn a few years back.
No;
I’ve created enough pain within myself to last a lifetime and so the journey of self-realization will only come to a halt the day I am free.
And even then the words won’t escape me.
My Soul ensures it craves to be understood —yet I avoid any moment of relation with another.
Deep down I think the moment my heart is felt, it loses all power; all honesty and realness.
It becomes mundane, normal, and boring; something I only see the modern world being capable of.
That’s something I’ve been finding myself mulling over as well; the avoidance of boredom.
And even that’s boring in itself.
I can’t tell you I know what I’m doing. I don’t think I ever could. But it feels as if more now than ever I’ve been lost in the torture of my own mind.
God told me I’m a crossroads point in my life where I must choose between comfort and adventure. I told Her my choice and still I wonder if its too late to change my mind.
Only She knows the answer as to which I will follow and how it’ll all end.
I trust Her judgement and pray for the best.
I pray and stay still—well at least try to. But if you know me as well I think you do, you must know I’m fidgeting. Fidgeting and reciting mantras as if I’m redoing my thigh tattoo all over again.
That’s what this is; the creation of permanence (or at least the illusion of it). And God, does it sting.
I’m floating. Floating and sinking and not even trying to swim. Leaving it all in the hands of my Creator because honestly I’m not interested in trying. I know my results so the effort to get there is all lackluster.
I am Here and that’s all I can be. Do you understand me?
But if something within you feels to connect, just know I’m aching for it too. Trust me.
–Natalia