[Written about a sociopath ex-mentor.]
He found my vulnerability – the things i learned about spirituality as a child, those tender guarded spaces in my mind. He knew the language to speak – the code to gain access into those private spaces.
That which is undefined is malleable, or weaker you could say. And those spaces, they were a foundation beneath everything strong which had been built… Find the weak beam, and the entire structure is at risk.
Trust, what does it mean? It means I believed he’d only have my best interest in mind. But what happened when he was overtaken by a sense of entitlement, a sick need to dominate, a resentful mood of ‘everyone gets theirs – when will i get mine?’…. Self-serving manipulation, in the guise of “help”, happened.
But I am the alchemist. I take the poison, and I chemically transform it into nourishment. I grew beyond the gigantic thumb pressed down on me… What was meant to cripple me, meant to keep me small, only fed my growth. Anger became motivation. Hurt became drive. Weakness became strength. I smiled, I laughed, and at last, his fist struck my face and broke the invisible bond. What was meant to be a desperate last attempt to control me, instead unleashed me.
I embraced my freedom and ran about wildly reclaiming my will. Now I must recover, so that I myself am not destroyed by my own all-devouring wrath that flows like molten lava just beneath my grin.
Deep down inside, in the dark – that is where it may fester, rot, decay. Expose it instead. Let the light shine through. Water it with tears. Sh-t is the best fertilizer for your new sprout to break forth and blossom.
Truth is like the sun, its value wholly depends upon our being at a correct distance away from it.
– From Doktor Glas by Söderberg
Useless to hide inside.
So… metaphorical suicide.
Cut my hair. Cut my throat.
Hang tight to that life boat.
Choke the seductress.
Burn down ALL of this.
Not for you… just for me.
Redefining what means free.
Those are parts i want to keep!
Investments that i want to reap!!
What is mine? Where’s the line?
Is it really such a fucking crime!?
[Yes...... Against me.]
I have supermom ears when it comes to the sound of a child that needs to throw up. The slightest groan or stirring will jolt me out of sleep into a hyper-alert state – ready to grab said child and fly him/her to the bathroom. Last night I jumped up a few times… Ready ready ready. I told myself I was being paranoid because after throwing up a few days ago, he’s been fine, eating normally, and playing like usual.
By the fourth time I jumped up, he already knew what I was going to ask him before I even asked, “Mom, I don’t need to barf!” So I laid back down and then…
Yes, those capital letters are the sound of him suddenly vomiting all over the bed. I lept up, grabbed him, and aimed the rest on the rug-less floor – much easier to clean. Then mom power-mode kicked in to override the sleepiness. I washed him up, scrubbed our sleeping area, disinfected everything, laundered the bedding, showered, dragged the spare bed into the living room, and carried sleeping children to their new spots. As I wiped up the mess of half-digested black beans, I was tempted to cry for comfort to the sleeping Brahma bear, but instead I did all of the above like a ninja so he could get adequate sleep for work, my expression of love. Lastly, I opened a window in the bedroom to air it out, and exhaled a sigh of relief.
Finally, at 3:00am, I climbed into our new bed on the living room floor and cozied up with my little “bubbadubs”. As I drifted to dreamland, I thought about getting up to go outside and peek at the blood moon, but instead I yawned and closed my eyes, absorbing the last hours left before my alarm.
“Nor, I fancy, has he ever had much time for thinking, never had time to let reflection drip its poison into his wine.”
- From Doktor Glas by Söderberg
To everyone who keeps parading around the hallmark-esque internet-sensation quote that Einstein supposedly said about living life as if everything is a miracle – this contains what he REALLY said: Continue reading
It’s the autumn of “love”. My hands unfold.
The surprise inside – it wraps and holds,
Bending the curve and style of your smile.
You gave me a meter… and I stole a mile.
by Radhika Ramana
“…that would be like blaming the yummy ice cream for being so tasty that you had to eat it.” -Anonymous [On shifting responsibility for one's actions.]
“One wants to be loved, in lack thereof admired, in lack thereof feared, in lack thereof loathed and despised. One wants to instill some sort of emotion in people. The soul trembles before emptiness and desires contact at any price.”
- From Doktor Glas by Söderberg