Past tense (play on words)


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They called us addicts though we both know, it’s air. The air we breathe to receive when they’ve long settled less for. We’d inhale a release as we exhale to forget. Together, we were breath and you then took the easy route. An exit I’ve yet to follow.

Tell me why! We both know life rolls too fast as we go in slow and steady.

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If I could wind back time I’d go to the days I did not know you. How you’d never know the great disturbance you are! I don’t enjoy weekends anymore. Now, I seek the days when my mind is at rest, as I burn the end of two candles.

What have you done of my senses? To bequeath what can’t be kept? Ignorance surely is bliss when bliss settles after your passing. Mondays can’t get here fast enough. There’s no living in waiting. Rest quickens thirst. The longing in my bosom, the swelling of my lids and the palm around my neck!!

What have you done!

PS: I miss what I don’t have as I learn to define what I value. Life is something, it gives the greatest joy but without knowledge. And then it takes it all away for you to learn its worth. (Don’t miss me when I’m gone!! A sweet refrain. If only I knew what I know now.)

Shalom!

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Once an addict, always an addict, it’s the source that shifts!!!

Are you okay? Hmm


“Are you okay?”

Yes and no.

I will be though. If there’s breath it should right? So we think. When there’s not, it is the end, we believe.

Why do you ask if I’m okay when you don’t even have time to listen, truly listen to the response? Why do we keep asking questions we don’t care to have the answers to?

Should I give the usual response? Or should I tell you all that’s wrong? One would say it would depend on who’s asking. But no, it depends on the question. We should respond truthfully to the question.

“Are you okay dear Sir, Ms., Ma’am? Are you?”

Do we ask because it is the norm? Do we ask out of curiosity or do we really care?

Often I find myself unable to answer. So many questions to that one question especially when it is followed by “I haven’t seen you or heard from you in a while. Is everything okay?”

Duh! I think. And then I feel. It’s a test. He’s testing my emotions, wondering where they fall. But they run the gamut. I’m asked to take the temperature of my emotional state. Is it running hot or cold? Maybe lukewarm?

Always blunt, wondering more than I should, I think “if you really cared you would have reached out sooner or maybe not lost touch at all. That makes sense to me. I check on those I care about and if you don’t hear from me, well I have probably explained at length why you will not be hearing from me. No need therefore to wonder if I am okay. Feel me?” That would be too much to say would it not? It will most likely be followed by an offense more often then a defense if they really wish to connect and lastly a judgement “you always complicate things. I was just checking up on you.” I dislike repeating the same arguments, discussions that lead nowhere. Been there, done that blah blah blah!
” “I am. How are you? Hope you’re doing well.” Politeness without follow through that could lead to trivial arguments.

“Awww so sweet of you. How are you?” You’re still on a sweet note in my head and I’m being polite. There’s no negative attachment to your name there.

“”Who is this?” You’re not important, I have erased you totally if it’s a text you sent. Or “hmm is that so?” Or simply “hmmmmm hello.” Or a no response at all. If we are face to face and you’re wasting my time with nonsense acting as if you give a damn to know I have been when you never bothered before.

Too busy is the lie that covers I don’t care to make an effort.

Doesn’t take much to show we care. A simple hello here and there, a happy birthday or card. If we have lost touch, we chose to. You aren’t valued enough to be kept abreast of my ongoing.

Am I okay? You will know when you’re present.”

“I live for the highs I can’t remember in the places I’ll never forget!

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You’ve survived, now it’s time to live (Part 1)


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I’m in love with words. Words and language captivate me. Maybe it isn’t “words” but the fact that words allow for the expression of thoughts. I think a lot, overthink everything and basically live in my head. Without words, my mind will explode.

I was walking towards the gym, my temple, my second home, the only place I erase thoughts, basically the outdoors of some, the escape we all need from the usual and ourselves and from my car to the door I explored many lives. That’s who I am and how I be.

My friend sent me a joke once online. I laughed and then commented. He responded “why do you have to overthink everything? It’s just a joke! You and my wife are the only two people I sent it to. She read it and laughed but you read it and had several thoughts about the underlying issues that she didn’t bring up.”

Because he is one of the sweet notes of my past, I allowed him his rant. I swallowed subsequent thoughts such as “I am not your wife. Maybe she thought them and didn’t say them. Maybe she was busy and cared less. I am the last woman you slept with before you said I do behind my back. That’s who I am. I overthink and you know it. Maybe that’s another reason you married her. Don’t compare me to your wife. Etcetera…” I didn’t. Those were my initial thoughts, with no emotions attached, just plain logic “speak”. The majority of folks tends to attribute emotions to words and I don’t. I’m able to think it, say it but not necessarily feel or ascribe emotions to what I say or hear, think, least to others’ words. A word is an idea, an attribute, the second emotions clog it up, it is more and we miss out on the message, the joy and depth of the idea it puts forth.

I’ve always known I’m one of those thinkers. I overthink everything and most times it is fun. I can create worlds within worlds in my mind. My thoughts keep me going and happy, most times. My thoughts entertain me, laughing quite often at its renderings.

At times, my thoughts consume me, overwhelm and steal my breath, my peace. As the French saying goes: “l’exces en tout nui.” That’s the reason I dislike anything I feel that is negative or that will bring me down. They won’t just be sporadic occurrences, I will carry them with me, for years on. Some folks forget what they say but I remember. As I don’t attach emotion readily to words, placing them first in the laboratory of my mind to play with, it takes me a while to be offended and hurt. Imagine! You make a statement and leave. But I, I take it and mull it over and over and over under different microscopic lights. I live in a world with layers, so I try to understand your statement from your perspective, within the context it was said, why you would say it, and why me yet not another and on and on and on. Once that process is done, usually days later I will then assess how to feel about it. The way I feel about it will be a result of the analysis. Yes! I am strange. So it takes me a while to know whether a statement is an insult, a compliment etc. Some may say I am slow I guess. Functionally within societal context, I really am, which comes across as naïveté that people can’t comprehend in a woman my age.

Once I start pondering how I feel about your statement I will now spend more days analyzing whether I care, why should I care and on and on and on. A conversation with me is basically endless. You may think we are done but in my head it is a long-winded exchange you’re just totally unaware of.

Maybe that’s why I am bold and often come across as harsh. I don’t attribute feelings to words and want to be clear so I won’t send anyone down the maze I go into after an exchange. So I tend to say things like it is, but trust that everything I say have been weighed. I mean what I say, in that moment. Well, unless other possibilities stemming from new pieces of information come under analysis. My words won’t be less meaningless, but amended, within the present context.

As I get older, becoming more aware of who I am, the way I am I have learned to compartmentalize. I am getting better at hearing and not mulling, too much. I must remain sane.

My friend has probably forgotten what he said by now. The same way all the people I have known an family members have forgotten how they used to call me weird, in a way that I am abnormal, that something is wrong with me for not behaving, thinking, talking doing like everyone else they know. I remember though.

In hindsight, the horse’s dung, I feel he expressed displeasure, annoyance to the fact I am not like his wife, that I didn’t behave the way he wanted me to. The fact he said that to me showed how close we are as well, how he trusts me enough to share something he felt though crude I wouldn’t judge him for. He also underlined differences, uniqueness. Yes, I am different. We all are. And we are not everyone’s cup of tea. I’m a glass of Johnny and Henny neat what can I say?

Words move me, hold me, define me, us, everything. I take full responsibility for my words but as for feelings, your feelings or mine, they’re up to us. Do words control feelings? Hardly! Do we control feelings? We should. We really should.

I must say my greatest “ah ha!” moment was having a name for the way I am. Through the years I have taken many of these psych tests for fun but when a friend reached out to me to assist further in my quest for self awareness and knowledge, having a profile, a name for the way I am really centered me. It came at the right time and I was ready to embrace it. I have a name for my disease. I am not alone, rare, extremely rare and different from the rest but not weird, that bad kind of weird, though freeing weird that I enjoy.

I am INTJ!

That’s something isn’t it?

Yeah! I’m not like everyone else. I rather indeed be out of the spotlight, learning, questioning, pondering, seeking knowledge and continue to value connections based on truth and knowledge. Anyone who knows me knows I HATE lies, liars and abhor acquaintance-ship, valuing deep connections instead. I can’t handle touch and go “ships” of any sort.
I know who I am and there’s a name for me mama, I am not weird at all.
“It’s lonely at the top, and being one of the rarest and most strategically capable personality types, INTJs form just two percent of the population, and women of this personality type are especially rare, forming just 0.8% of the world’s population –

A paradox to most observers, INTJs are able to live by glaring contradictions that nonetheless make perfect sense – at least from a purely rational perspective. For example, INTJs are simultaneously the most starry-eyed idealists and the bitterest of cynics, a seemingly impossible conflict.

INTJs are brilliant and confident in bodies of knowledge they have taken the time to understand, but unfortunately the social contract is unlikely to be one of those subjects. White lies and small talk are hard enough as it is for a type that CRAVES TRUTH and DEPTH but INTJs may go so far as to see many social conventions as downright stupid.
Ironically, it is often best for them to remain where they are comfortable – out of the spotlight.”

 

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7 Billion, 1 is all you need!


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One thing I do know is that friends come and they go, family is a wind blown. Everything else is within. It will get dark and cold. Days will be sad and lonely. You will feel weak and alone, but you must give yourself what you need.

People have words alone but you have all you need. Whenever you begin to think you are not enough, remember you have made it this far alone. You must learn where to find strength in you, love in you, otherwise you will get the pull. Find an exit!

Life is nothing without you.

Right now is always the perfect time for you find in you to be, to touch; one breath at a time honey. Time is spent with or without, it is in the how you exist. No one asked to be here, everyone staggers into some coherent existence so they convict themselves.

As we say goodbye to friends, family, the elders, bide time ‘till its end. Don’t second guess the past or be so focused on the future, you forget this moment is all you’re given.

Remember when you told me not to get comfortable being alone? I listened and tried but the connections are few. Many seek contact but I am into connection as you learned. I am not made for surface interactions. I must feel the real, sense the true. That is why I am uneasy around too many. All the “how are you? What’s up?” that lead nowhere but conversations none will remember. You did not tell me aloneness will get hard sometimes and that I will crave connectedness more than air and I would need to dig in and live within. Maybe you couldn’t because you too forgot how it used to be. We will make do, won’t we? Tell me it gets better somehow!

Each time I get the call from the other side of lonely I recall, I remember, promising not to forget.

Children grow and let go. Friends come and go, family is a wind blown, all I will ever need is within.

 

 

 

Mush-room state!


Ever wonder why you attract the people you do!
And they say the central theme is you?
As if, you would want the pain, unleashed too?
Your head’s right, your game’s tight,
many players on the field and nothing is alright,
or feel right?!

That’s the story, an endless litany!
What am I to do?
All that I have, untrue!
Mushroom trippin’, ecstasy driven,
they come around wantin’, constantly takin’,
that’s me attractin’ !??
Time wastin’, roll in the hay, and!?

Maybe it’s the voodoo, how between my legs do,
curved as rescue,
boat, line, head too?
Ever wonder why you attract the people you do?

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