Life Trying to Knock You Out?

me vs life

Here’s a reminder to anyone who can relate not to throw in the towel yet.

You may encounter many defeats, but you must not be defeated. In fact, it may be necessary…so you can know who you are, and what you can rise from.

–Maya Angelou

(My guess is life wears a hat and smokes Cuban cigars.)

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I Think I’m Ready

I think I’m ready to live my life the way I wanted.

I think I’m ready to live my life and not look back.
I think I’m ready to see more than white and black;
to fly a little, to wake up late
no voices saying to face the day.

Sit in complete silence from dawn to dawn,
stay up ’til inspiration is gone.
In search of independence I’ve run away,
but the road is long, I’m halfway.

I miss sometimes the days I could write,
when I borrowed verses from the night;
the same old nights that made me ill,
but things seemed always a bit more chill.

Tranquil hibernation is what I long
in a chaotic world that’s gone so wrong.

I think I’m ready to let go of the past.
I think I’m ready to make my way out of the glass;
to mix the air with different waters, shake well,
barefoot walk on grass, break the spell.

I think I ought to live my life, I must.
Letting go would hurt less, at long last.

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Still, I Can’t Breathe

My feet up on a table, hands writing my life. Papers, sticky notes, cheap street art. All overlapping each other, hanging from a wall so plain and white. Receipts everywhere; months old, years old. What’s the point of holding on? Organizing them is futile, I long gave up. Paper towel wasted, not my doing. ‘Til Monday I’ll be buried in them, when the trash truck comes.the climb

Outdated tapes hiding years of better days, and people by whom I was betrayed. Standing there begging to be watched, yet another pile of shit I don’t give. A dried bamboo plant wonders why I let it died. But we’re all dying over here, maybe not as visibly as its leaves.

There’s no more room on the coffee table; my bags and other random objects have taken over. I used to be better at putting these away. It’s the end. Can’t find room, can’t find time, can’t find motivation, can’t find…life. It’s as simple as living, if only I remembered what it meant.

Computers with connection. Not one, not two, not three; they’re about six. The great escape is as easy as 1, 2, 3. Walls, they’re more than four. The ceilings are high. Functioning doors from July to July. Big windows welcoming the air. Not too far from the ground if running I should need. Still, I can’t breathe.

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Exes: You’ll Be Alright

First comes the problems,
then it's the fights,
then the denial,
then, boom – goodbye.
One remote day, though,
healed over time,
you become friends again,
hang out 'til sunrise.
You'll be alright.

 

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A Life – For You, For Me

Live. Free, like birds. No rules. Open path, leading to a world unknown to me, to anyone. Living is already a risk. What’s one more try at something extraordinary going to do? Trying is always better than not.

Sing to a powerful song. Listen to a loud tune. Dance to a wild beat. So good for the soul. Imagine a world violence-free. It could be. Doing whatever I please. In peace; with the world, with you, with me.

Pulling in different directions, but in coordination. Oh what a wonderful life it would be. A life lived by me and only me. No other traffic controllers directing it from every angle. As it should be. For you, for me.

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Sin With Me?

When I was a little girl, I’d hear the word “pecado” (sin) on the daily. It was in my elders’ vocabulary heavily. I was raised in a catholic family, and almost everything I did; everything I wanted, everything I thought, everything I DREAMED of, was considered a sin. So much that I was in a way afraid to be myself around people because, who knows, breathing might’ve had been sinning.

But sins seemed like so much fun to me. It seemed that all things proven to be good in life were sins. I kind of wanted to sin.

As an adult, effortlessly, I sin. I’m guilty. And as long as I’m not hurting anyone (too much) in the process, I am okay with that. Life is about living. To live fully, mistakes are necessary.

You can’t limit a human life that way. If the religious definition of sinning were to be true, then we’re all sinners by default. Good thing its original meaning is becoming obsolete.

Anyway, I am not trying to discuss “divine laws” — I had this thought in my head today and thought I’d write about it because I like the word and what it represents, and it’s one of my favorite ones to mock.

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