Tag Archives: writing

Relinquish

O’ dear skin

Pain erupts as I am relinquishing you

Dear tender past

Melodies of dreams and butterflies

Shall never last

O’ dear skin

In my past realm

I rolled up in your camouflage

I hid

I ran

I escaped

For fear of what I am

And what my inner self can

O’dear skin

I hew you with my present

I can no longer disguise my kind

The dance of my existence

Shall finally detach my masquerades

O’dear skin

Fire is vigorous indeed

Burning grins of desire

Desire to conform

Adapt

Obey

Blend with the sheep

O’dear skin

The delusion of similarity

Rejects me

Can’t disguise fire for blood

Can’t lull my kind

Can’t silence my mind

O’dear skin

You ought to flee

For the light is forceful

And the dazzling beast is free.

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Unknown Artist

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Letter for Depression

Dear Depression, I want to take this opportunity and thank you for being generous enough and giving me back my ability to write. I am aware that you understand that writing equates oxygen for me. I hope my words would convey my senses, I neither solicit mercy nor sympathy; my words are nothing but a reflection of the circus inside.

I like to picture you with awe, I don’t imagine you as a monster or a “black dog” as they describe you. On the contrary, I picture you as a beautiful entity that is overwhelmed with senses. I know your seasonal visit has no cruel intentions, I am aware that you carry nothing but scars of a conspicuous past. I am thankful that you are eager to remind me of my scars to learn and thrive.

However, while I always welcomed your visits through the darkest times and let you in with open arms – I just can not understand why would you visit me in the most beautiful period of my life?! For several years, I have adopted masks, masks that would protect me and walls that would secure my fragile being, only recently I have learned to stand with nothing but an armor of flesh.

I thought that my soul was murdered long ago, nevertheless, there was always an ounce of hope lingering between ashes and tears. One night, the light turned out to be real, HOPE was not a phantasm but a reality that worth every ache. I am no longer tinctured with the past or the present. 

And for that, I ask you why?

Why do you haunt me with equivocality?

Why do you hew my soul?

Why do you urge me to escape life? I respect and appreciate death but I refuse to bring it uninvited.

Why do you distort my self-image?

Why do you refuse to let me be?

I am not asking you to leave but I am asking you to intertwine with my reality and breathe in colors which portray who I really am. Your darkness is beautiful so, please join me.

Depression, here I am evincing my misfortunes and not blaming you, on the contrary, I kindly ask you to understand. For my life is not mine anymore and I refuse to abandon felicity out of fear. I refuse to hurt the one I Love, I refuse to give up and I refuse to be nothing but the strong person I am.

I am not a victim nor a quitter and I will not fight with you because you are part of me. My soul is made of melodies and silver linings – all the rest is noise.

Dear Depression, please be kind.

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Art by Domen Lo


What if?

Life is beautiful in every way. Only when we get to experience pain – we taste the euphoria of the few blissful moments. I have been a believer that everything is connected for a long time, however, getting to experience that firsthand in overwhelming – Gigantic.

Sometimes I wonder how do I still manage to value life. After all, I used to struggle with the idea of taking my life since I was a child… this life to be precise – and dive into a new world of possibilities, discoveries, and answers.  I always ask myself where does this strength come from?! Lately, I discovered it is faith. Not faith in an entity, religion or a human being. It is much bigger than this, I am not sure my human vocabulary can describe this but for now, I would say the universe.

I learned that our demons accompany us, you can never really defeat them but you can accept them, give into your past and let go. Accept what happened and what will happen in this journey called – life. Afterall, demons are nothing but voices from the past that once called for help, scared of the unknown, scared from every new page, scared that the new skin would be hewed over and over again.

I discovered that pain is not hard as joy when you survive in a world of distortion, it is very hard almost impossible to accept a new chapter of happiness, simplicity, and bliss. Be wary of fooling yourself, be wary of being too locked in pain that you miss the taste of happiness. Accept that life is a series of evolutions and only a few manage to pass every stage and fell their existence with peacefulness and serenity.

Sometimes fighting your demons takes nothing but holding your demons close and as you tear-up, you hear yourself whispering “I know”. The beauty of life is not only bliss, the beauty of life is everything. The colors of joy, the melodies of pain and sensations of fear. They all intertwine to create a bigger, fresh meaning.

If you are lost, pained or paralyzed, remember that life is BEAUTIFUL. It just takes some time to unfold your eyes and witness the beauty.

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Artwork by Catrin Welz-Stein


WHO AM I?

What is the purpose of our existence if we can’t be true to ourselves?! Are we created to be made – or just to be?

The answers have always been simple, it’s the quest that determines our strength and persistence. It takes courage to remain loyal to yourself and avoid man-made distortions. Living in the Middle-east is uneasy and being a female who happened to be different makes it worse. Choosing to be true to yourself is SUICIDAL.

Over time everything changes. You get to learn that traditions are volatile. Self-discovery is essential, challenging society and questioning dogma are the noblest acts. Nevertheless, it is not an easy journey. The cattle will stand out to you, vilify and attack you. They will delude you to believe that there is no choice and that we are merely owned.  The path to enlightenment is loaded with thorns, but what is bliss if not for the struggle.

We rant and whine “Life is cruel” but life has disowned us long ago. Life is not to blame, it’s what we made out of life.

They established laws to mold societies and shape future. It is your choice, will you lose yourself to conformity or seize your liberty?

Limits are an illusion, our strength is infinite and freedom lies in resistance.

Don’t respect the status quo.

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Artwork by unknown artist.


On the Borders of my Mind.

It is ironic how a slight attack could change everything. It’s uneasy to explain or make feelings coherent. After all, borderline personality disorder comes with bits and pieces from everything else. Sometimes anxiety, unexplained fears, and the worst of all DEPRESSION. BPD comes with its baggage, as if, we, humans need more burdens! The world is hard itself, surviving is an act of courage in the 21st century, what’s the point behind having unseen monster that carves out holes on our fragile existence. And no matter how much you fight, monitor those thoughts and plead….. Nothing leaves.

I remember few years ago when I took a challenging decision to quit medications, I knew its going to be uneasy ride in my emotional circus. But, today I would do it all over again, I would take the very same decisions. Because it helped me, when I browse online forums and read what people are saying about their experiences, I wonder if that could be me OR I am just another spectrum. I read words that I am completely unfamiliar with “Co-dependence, manipulation, emotional abuse” and I wonder if I have ever been like that, I wonder if my father’s death shaped the different case of borderline I came across. I isolated myself from the world and wrapped myself in darkness to be safe, I managed to learn dealing with my volatile mood. I confess I mastered manipulation, a skill I learned as a reaction to those who truly deserve it, however, at some point in my life I was done. I despised seeing myself getting dragged in the path branded by manipulation, that wasn’t me. I had to escape.

I learned to put myself in everyone’s shoes regardless, to forgive and accept an apology I will NEVER get. After all, I didn’t want to see a corrupted image of myself and use BPD as my ultimate scapegoat.

Now, I look back and process how did the past 5 years pass in an eye blink, where I am today and the price I paid…. A very expensive price and I am not sure if anything in the world is worth losing human being in the process.

I look back knowing that I am 200% stronger, capable of handling my past and controlling my demons… I know that every episode will eventually pass, every heartache will go, and while soul-ache remains; I am certain that life is bittersweet.

I wish I can simply explain everything to the people who care, but I can’t or won’t. I have to fight this battle alone, I am not used to have someone under my skin, I won’t put my guards down, or share my darkest moments. I remember a friend said that I tend to use grand wording, because my feelings are quite huge. He didn’t know that he defined me, I am larger than life.

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Unknown artist


Melodies of myself…

– I still remember that day when words remained unsaid, when soul-aches pushed me apart like tornado, when my life changed and the roller-coaster ceased to define me. But I am fine… I can still swing in my personal opera, paint smiles out of sea waves, dance naked under the cold rain and breathe in silver moonlights.

Thoughts are like snakes tangling everything I am.  Reality is intertwined with fantasy. I can no longer recognize myself or my dreams or what I am longing for…. I am lifeless, numb and ruined. Feelings are so huge that I am unable to create a coherent statement or explain how I feel.  I wonder if tomorrow I can just vanish, disappear in existence like a forgotten feather that once witnessed remarkable moments and history through its flying journey.

But I am alive… I am alive even if surviving murders every ounce of my existence, I am alive even if memories are collection of razor blades torn my emotions, bleed and dance in my chaotic mind… my mind … my bitter sweet circus.

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Silhouette Dreams

Once upon a time in a silhouette reams

There was a girl dressed in fears

With eyes of a tiger

And heart of a fighter

She deceived the monsters disguised with dreams

Once upon a time in a silhouette cart

There was a girl with glass-shaped heart

With chocolate skin from silk

And piercing gaze paints kink

She escaped from monsters with angel parts

Once upon a time they thought they knew

The innocence inside colored.. yet hewed

She didn’t cease to rectify

What’s more than meet the eye

For her silhouette dreams

Rescued her from lies…..

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