mirrorball
Posted: January 13th, 2020, 8:25 am
.
im looking forward to winter...a winter of content..although last night a magical giant of an electrical tropical storm
whooshed through my marrow lightning dancing off the walls thundering the very foundations of life...i loved it..
today the roads are shredded as i pick my way along my journey to a place where i be, occupant of space and magic mirrorball of feeling.
the debasement of my shuddering and trauma mainly swimming away from the vortex of my heart, although surprises shudder
their way into its very muscle from time to time.
i will change the way of seeing; the very way of being, myself...that is a road i chose, 2 or more years ago. i will
let go to hold on. i will change the narrative of my life and the telling of how i feel about it. it is so empowering
and liberating.
even if it brings me to moments of untortured torture; balance wavering on a fulcrum still formed by the gossamer of
new tissue.
and the beat goes on. my stomach a drum resonating the drinking of experience from eyes alive only half sedated
by mediocrity. but always a dancer to the wondrous world of differences.
places of being are where you feel you are
.
im looking forward to winter...a winter of content..although last night a magical giant of an electrical tropical storm
whooshed through my marrow lightning dancing off the walls thundering the very foundations of life...i loved it..
today the roads are shredded as i pick my way along my journey to a place where i be, occupant of space and magic mirrorball of feeling.
the debasement of my shuddering and trauma mainly swimming away from the vortex of my heart, although surprises shudder
their way into its very muscle from time to time.
i will change the way of seeing; the very way of being, myself...that is a road i chose, 2 or more years ago. i will
let go to hold on. i will change the narrative of my life and the telling of how i feel about it. it is so empowering
and liberating.
even if it brings me to moments of untortured torture; balance wavering on a fulcrum still formed by the gossamer of
new tissue.
and the beat goes on. my stomach a drum resonating the drinking of experience from eyes alive only half sedated
by mediocrity. but always a dancer to the wondrous world of differences.
places of being are where you feel you are
.
