The intolerable throbbing discomfort of love

In my experience, and in a world where narrow-mindedness holds power, nothing beats being in love; nothing beats being in love with another man and nothing beats getting hurt by another man.

So many of us find sanctuary in love while this remains the scariest territory for some. It is in love that I cry, despite being duped to believe positivity is supreme. From my face, I have wiped tears of joy and I have cleared my dotted cheeks tears of sorrow. At present, I still live to believe love is the only reason I willing step out of bed to pursue obligations.

I grew up meticulously loved. I grew up around love. I grew up with love. Yet, love remain one phenomenon I struggle to comprehend. As such, I respect love and I’m shit scared of falling in love; that time my past – and the various bedrooms I have walked in – betray this fear. Hard.  

Take me back to when I was inexperienced and immature, I utter these words each time I am hurt by another man. Yet, I look around and apparently something in me continues to entice the same species I intend to escape.

I cannot continue from here…                       

Happy read!

The bigger picture – The error in my breathing rhythm

I woke up this morning, and I realised my feet hurt.

I woke up and I realised my toes carry distinctively shaped callus of dead skin.

I realised I needed to undo my shoelaces. I realised I tie my sneakers too tight.

I woke up and I remembered I could do without shoelaces.

Just yesterday, it felt like my spirit drifts to emulate gentleness of a stream.

And yet, my feet are stumble and I’m falling apart.

Of course, I smile and continue to probe the minds of stimulating societies every day.

Now I have learnt; so much depends upon my ability to inhale.

So much relies on my decision to confidently stand up and decline.

So much depends upon the art of letting go, and a whole lot on my intuition relating to indistinct quitting.

I woke up this morning, and I realised I needed to change my story.

I woke up and I realised this cannot be my story.

I woke up and I remembered my story is different.

Yes, the sentiment to flip feminine fellas askew is common.

But, I have defined and seamlessly managed the most dreadful pains espoused by my heart.

How have you?

On a normal day, I walk on parallel and ultimately conflicting paths throughout.

Where have you been?

There’s something wrong with all of us. At least my qualms exist in the past.

I woke up this morning, and I realised my life begins today.

I woke up and I realised I’m unclear of your story nor are you an expert in mine.

I woke up and I remembered only I can undo my bondages.

I woke up and I remembered my story is different.

Happy read!