I don’t feel inspired to write today I just feel angry.
And for me I can’t write from a place of anger, not because it would probably be full of fuck this, fuck that; but because anger is a state of emotion I don’t often feel, so I am not quite sure how to connect with it.
It is running so deep within my veins and I am just sitting here by myself because I don’t want it to infect anyone or anything undeserving of it.
I am trying to love and appreciate this ugly emotion.
It’s tough, very tough to embrace even the ugliest parts of you.
Today, to say the least has been interesting, I know that’s a terrible adjective to use but I seriously can’t think of anything else.
My heart is breaking all over again and I have no words at all that can adequately for tell what I will do next.
So this is not me writing, this is me sitting still and trying to find the peace in this cruel, cruel world.
Because I know deep down (way deep down) where there is life, there is hope, so I pray we all keep on living.
If this anger – any anger will teach me, then I promise to carry it.
So do not mistake me for a naive ocean because I am always smiling.
My eyes may hold soft waters, my dimples may be like lakes that you wade your feet in, and my voice may be squeaky and subtle – but there is a drop of blood in every step I take – a quiet horror that shakes the ground beneath me while I’m silently running towards the graveyard.