via At the Edge melancholia 


At the Edge melancholia 

” Life might be the most expensive thing to spend. Being on the brink of twenty five, it is late to say that I’ve wasted most of my lifetime. Especially the golden age, as it is called. I’ve spent most of it contemplating the failures of my life, the incompetence and the shortcomings. Till I lost sight of all the right things in me, the things that have a point. The parts of me that actually work towards their designated purpose. I feel like I’m losing myself, bit by bit  drifting further away from my destiny. Not even knowing where I’m going. I’m losing faith, losing sight, losing myself. And as I fall deeper and drawn farther into the mud, it burns even feistier, it hurts and aches. That desire inside me, those dreams buried and ignored, forgotten into the midst of aging dust. The hopes the wishes the images of a successful version of myself, stings even more as it disappears. I can see it looming in the distance, with a lurching desire in the shadows of my bridled unconscious. I yearn and I ache for the tingling longing to act, to produce, to create. To be the stern soul of mastery and manifestation. I yearn to bare the infants of aging ideas, of futuristic foreshadowing. I hear them call me in the midst of my heaviest nights, I see them in every twinkling star, every breath of a rewarding nearby jasmine tree. I sense them penetrating my soul aching for attention, holding my vein-less threads to delve into my artistic nature. And yet my conscious foolish mind finds a way. It always finds a way to pull me back up, to push me out of all comfort zones and cage me into those taunting edges of reality.

And yet some nights, some nights I just manage to escape, and I emerge. Like wildflower. An evaporating spray of my truest most genuine self, delves out into the unknown. And for a moment there just exists, out and into itself; and it thrives in ways unimaginable to the mundane. Unattainable by the lost spirit waking up the next morning. Only to feel the flickering remains of an illuminating twilight. As a hangover of ecstasy it only enjoys the aftertaste of a well-deserved long awaited exuberance.”  TG ^_^

Lost Souls

Midnight Muse : “In everyone’s life, there are some certain moments of clarity and some other very fuzzy, yet very insightful moments of chaos. Lately I’ve been tossing and turning in the midst of both these combinations. I’ve been trying to figure out what I need to do with my life, who am I supposed to love and at the same time trying to find out how to love again and when to let go. In all honesty, I don’t remember how not to be an emotional mess anymore. And yet I’m winging it, day by day it gets better and I get to find some renewed reason to live. But then again some days are just a tornado of emotional trauma. Being a woman constantly hunted by her past was never an image I foreseen for myself. And yet here am persistently reminded of the misfortunes of the past. Not because they were terrible things to have endured. But because the significant events that took place were very altering and crucial to my very formation, that affected my metamorphosis, and became more than instrumental in the creation of the wreckage I’m today. How am I supposed to let go of a very much engraved part of my core, is impossible to pin down or get rid of. Which is why I’ve been unable to move past it and leave it behind since it is now a part of me. I thought of embracing those misfortunes, since they are now my sole companions and yet nothing seems to be working, in fact with every waking moment I come to find myself drowning deeper and deeper into utter and complete entanglement; falling into the very same corner I never wanted to be at. “I ‘m now letting my past define me”. What once was just something that happened to me became who I am, even though it wasn’t my own doing, it escalated to become my own undoing.”