Ten Truth’s you should abide by to get through the reality of life……
Can you handle it? You are the only one who shall abide and know…….
- A man will say whatever you want to hear to get in your pants (not a true story as I know reality, but I know of females who have gone through this)
- A women will tell you anything you want to hear to keep you beside her (I’ve seen it all)
- Kids (your own) will drive you nuts (literally)
- Your parents love you unconditionally (for reals)
- Your co-workers are fake (I’ve seen it first hand, but you may find a real one here and there)
- Your boss should be your “Best Friend” (or you won’t have a job for long)
- Don’t ever complain or make a fuss while at a new job or on “probation” (true story)
- Don’t confront, question or yell at a Police Officer, they will gripe you by your balls or ovaries (as seen on social media)
- When you think you’re “depressed”, get off your ass because you’re really in a rut (seen by so many)
- If you’re truly “depressed”, take your damn happy pills (if you don’t, you’re susceptible to deep depression and suicide)
Her soul went from the most beautiful frontal-erected flower, full of love, ambition and passion while spewing vibes that dissolved all evil.
He tempts her day in and out. Surrounding her heart, he lays, laughing, lying, awaiting to never be caught.
She slithers as he lies with no remorse. He grins as her erected flower wilts to gray. He lurks. He waits.
In her weakest moment, he takes her heart and soul.
This is the story of life and death. Shall she succumb? Or fight back for her life?
Lost is not broken. As broken is not being lost.
Lost is not finding your way back. A pit stop. A moment of transition. Being lost is temporary until you find your way back home.
Broken is being torn to pieces. It is being shattered. It is never being able to be who you were yesterday. There is no going back home!
A pit stop cannot fix your broken soul, but taking a needle and thread and patience can slowly bring you back together.
Broken does not mean that we leave all the broken pieces on the ground unless of course you choose to do so.
Being broken means putting yourself together with the support our world offers. It can be breaking in the fresh air. It can be getting out of bed and taking a shower. Being broken will leave a deep scar in your soul, but when all of your pieces are sewn back together, that scar will remind you of the tedious work you put into your soul.
I’d rather be lost. Lost is okay. The lost can be shown the light of life.
Broken is shattered pieces that will take time to heal. But it is okay. It just means that you will come out of your hectic mess much more beauty.
When the devil is lingering around you and it is almost available at all times. When the devil can look you straight in the eye and say “I love you” and you believe it, you my friend are in deep trouble.
Deep, deep trouble.
In the midst of Water Lillies and Fairies, lay a tender heart, her heart, his heart, pumping hearts of life and death….
Breath can stop,
The mind can falter,
Lunacy can fall on
As Water Lillies and Fairies flow through the sparkled night,
oblivious of night skies of death.
Stone sober, she can eminate the liking of his faltered soul, or can she?
Idea-driven is she, punching, screeming vocals of feminist rock, until the last flickering light dims,
Can you go crazy while staying sane? Can we stay sane while going mad? In our bleak world, this is the visual she allows as she rocks those vocals toward every fuck in the world,
Erect, full of laughter, she picks a Water Lilly and hands it to every dead body as she smiles at each living Fairy,
Fairies exist and so does death, Water Lillies breath as do we, life emanates as much as we choose,
Choose well my fair weathered friend…
Picture taken from “fairiesandfantasy.com”
Life can be a bold green, like our current wetlands, or Tangerine Orange like a boquet of Poppies or Mellow-Yellow, while drifting off to sleep,
and pains of joy….
Life is not always sugary-sweets and caramel stuffing.
Life can be gray, like crisp quiet winter evenings, alone in the world. It can be bloody red, boiling senses and heated thoughts. Most dreaded is the world of deep dark clouds. Clouds will get closer and darker until you suffocate.
and deep sink-holes,
and melancholy sighs….
Sad girl once read, “Depression
is like a war, you either win or die”
She tells herself, “cheer up butter-cup”. She needs to have an awareness that this is a wave of sadness that needs to be watered.
Sit is your tears and you will drown in your own death. Run from your tears and it will keep coming back as you keep avoiding the cloud. Sit in your rain, taste it, breath it, meditate with it and it will begin to dissipate.
Humanity is full of Sunny Days and Cloudy Winters. Seasons can run us high or low. We can either stop and soak in the marmelaid peels or die in the war.
Which do you choose?
Which will she choose?
She is a a hybrid of dysfunction.
Despises her look, but loves the try.
Silence is needed.
No time to cry.
She wants so much yet she cannot move.
She wants a simple life yet her life is the opposite.
Everyone around her is dysfunction.
She is just trying to survive.
Survival is she.