how do you see a person and not feel anything anymore? i feel weak for still having remnants of feelings past one sided at that
you know when even the sight of someone makes you feel uneasy? something disgusts you about how you view them they are not a good person not a person for you and yet my fictionalised version covers up all their flaws how horrifying
it is truly humiliating you tell yourself, “this is over, i am letting go” but when reality hits you a realisation comes to the forefront of your mind you cannot simply state these things they must become on their own and who the hell can predict when that will happen
why does progress feel so scary? i am an imposter, aren’t i but maybe that’s the point i should feel different more so, what will happen to the old version do i need to say goodbye? i feel as if i’ve planned a million funerals each one, i’m being buried i’m giving the eulogy i’m memorialising i’m crying i say goodbye
how come i want to change so bad but also can’t help but feel bad for letting myself go after all, i want this but maybe in order to figure out who i am i have to start the change first if a tree falls in a forest… i feel like a new person all the time, its constant its a never ending, somewhat startling realisation.
however, i no longer need to be understood, simply compatibility on any scale connection really drives us i find this alone i find this with some people but i don’t care to search for it only to live it as it comes
one of the most rewarding realisations is using yourself as inspiration. when you have tangible evidence of the outcomes of past systems, use them again.
what does it mean to believe in yourself? they say self-love is unconditional, is self-belief too? i’m not sure what either truly means to me. both are sacred, &ambiguous. now i wonder if they are meant to be understood at all. they serve me moment to moment &as every moment is different, so must their purpose, so must my purpose.
there is no definitive answer, stop searching for one. instead, look inward towards yourself. what do you see? when i look in the mirror, i see a reflection. when i look at the world, i see a reflection of everything i will ever know. i see myself i don’t think you understand i see myself now do you understand?
in order to become who you are, you must kill who you were. you are stuck in a cycle. one that ruthlessly comforts, a false illusion of safety. this can’t be it there must be more i know this but its so blurry. vaguely, quietly, softly there is a humming in my soul. amongst the infinite universes, i am pulled towards a new reality. yesterday i saw the bathroom faucet drip down, the water droplets hitting the drain ever so differently each time. every moment every second millisecond is a water droplet and its precise place of falling, are the continuum of events. this timeline is changing. but just as i exist here, i also exist parallel to myself. my very consciousness is illuminating&drawing energy across these realities. i feel a calling of myself, from myself. i feel you. i really do.
i am sitting in bryant park. i see children playing at the fountain, throwing coins, feeling the water by immersing their forearms in towards its floor. the water flows in&out, in&out. i hear different languages&accents all around. one child leans his body weight to reach all the way in. it feels as if i too am a kid.
babysitting last night was good for me. i felt reconnected to my childhood: arthur, reading picture books before bed, &the mere conversation with her mirrored the innocence i too once had.
it’s all so beautiful&cohesive&melodic.
people getting up&moving about, leaving the area i am in. those walking by, every. single. noise. the clothes people are wearing, the blowing of the umbrellas, the people talking with one another. those with coffees, those taking pictures of the fountain, &those just observing it.
i see a kid looking at the fountain for a good moment. i see a staff member sweeping up bits of leaf. even the direction of two chairs left facing each other is beautiful, as it means two people chose to place them in this way so as to sit with one another.
pairs of two, three, four, five. alone, eating, talking, sipping, the musicality of the soft current of ongoing chatter, in harmony with the stream of the fountain, street noise, it just is so fucking perfct. how lucky am i to be experiencing this.
someone has a wonderfully thick braid and boots, ready wonderful look entirely, so chic. people here know how to dress&present who they are. it isn’t forced, it reads true&effortful. i feel inspired to do the same.
i write what i see, hear, feel, think, and know. this is my mind’s work. i love it. my goal is to express my ideas and have something to show for it. enjoy.
mind la moda 