On Broken Souls and Olive Branches

On Broken Souls and Olive Branches

I’ve been told I don’t try hard enough

I’ve been told it’s my fault things go wrong

They said I was weird and unfixable, with a sad little laugh

They said I don’t know what it takes at all

I’ve been told the problem lies in me

I’ve been told I’m no good

And I whole heartedly agree, because honestly

A year went by and I achieved nothing

It’s hard to find someone who gets it

Someone who feels what you feel

They might try on your shoes but they won’t fit

As comfortably as they seem to fit you

No matter how many olive branches you extend

Someone needs to be receptive there too

Broken people and broken relationships don’t mend

Not one their own, they need a lot of help too

I’m an introvert when it comes to feelings

That won’t ever change

I wish I could stay in my bubble and find some meaning

Meanwhile I’d let my ramblings comfort me in my head

It’s a new year but nothing feels different to me

I feel detached like I’ve always been

Broken people don’t heal themselves, you see

What’s worse, I feel like I’d never find my clarity

Humbled.

Humbled.

Took the time out today

To look back on my life

To reach out to people and say

I’ve missed them all this time

Been a while

Since we ventured out

Since we exchanged smiles

With the people next door

Is this how I’m meant to go

And if yes,

Why wasn’t I told before?

I’d have made changes then

But I guess it’s now too late

To fix someone’s mistake-on-purpose

That messed up our fate

We can only debate

We can only watch, and wait

With sanitizers and bated breath

As the numbers elevate

With no hope on the horizon yet

On the upside though

You can see the earth heal herself

Despite having a long way to go

Some things are falling into place

The skies are bluer, yes

The grass, legitimately revived

The wind feels like a caress

All of this has got me thinking

What if we’re the parasite

The human race, as a whole?

And this virus, Earth’s antibody armed to fight

This extortion we’ve imposed on her?

It’s all about perspective, really

So maybe if we go, we go for good

There’s more to life than likes, silly

So live the lockdown like you should

Social distancing has humbled me

Made me so grateful for all I’ve got

Love, light and happiness is all I need

So I’m going to live life with gratitude.

The Problem With Being Me

The Problem With Being Me

It hurts to exist

It hurts to kind of not

There’s no way to fix things

And yet, you can’t let them rot

I post a story

You have stuff to say

Most days you’re concerned, genuinely

But today’s not the day

I’m meant to be happy

To smile and to glow

I’m in love, you see

And it’s supposed to show

The problem with being me

Is that I feel way too much

I want to blend in

I want to vanish at a touch

History

History

My problems were never important

Hers are, because she’s new

I’m dramatic but she’s an angel

She’s the only one that could impress you

She’s sensitive, I’m shrewd

She’s the only person that matters to you

Even when angry, she’s cute

And me, I’m just a fluke

You throw verbal abuses my way

Like I don’t have feelings at all

And if I ever dare to cry

You make sure I take the fall

It’s a good thing a lot doesn’t last

And that toxicity comes to an end

It’s a relief once bridges burn

I’m happy we’re no longer friends

Manipulation

Manipulation

You mansplain things to me

Like I were born yesterday

Like I lack the ability to see

Like I need to trust everything you say

You try to get inside my head

Like I were as fragile as a glass jar

Like I were weak, powerless, underfed

Like I don’t understand who you are

Haven’t we been down that road

Over and over again

You have me in a figurative choke-hold

Trying to drive me insane

Haven’t you hit where it hurts the most

Haven’t you tried the same tricks before

Reducing me to only a ghost

So lost I can’t find my way back anymore?

I’m so used to your manipulating me

That it doesn’t surprise me, you see

Talking about old love and money

Isn’t going to make me submit to your whim, baby

It’s NOT Love

It’s NOT Love

It’s true that you fall in love

That doesn’t mean you can’t rise in it

Doesn’t mean when push comes to shove

You end up alienating every human being

It’s not love if you’re being psychotic

It’s not love if it’s baseless,

If it only ends up being chaotic

Both for you and for them

Love teaches you to be selfless and kind

To let go so it comes back someday

Love doesn’t cast evil shadows on your mind

If it does, you’ve got it confused with something else

It’s not love what you’re feeling at this moment

It must be hormones, the need of the flesh

It’s not love, putting your mum through torment

It’s not love, if you’re acting like you’ve been blinded

Oh it’s not love, you’re being selfish

Why must everything go the way you want it

There are better ways to make a wish

It’s not love if you’re being consumed by the Devil.

Joy.

Joy.

You feel lonely, you get used to it

Pretty much how you get used to pain

Specially when it’s so intense

That it numbs you all over again

You initially miss people’s company

But soon, you build walls around you

You lock yourself in

And nothing can break you

You could go days, months, years

Being in self imposed solitary confinement

Never needing anyone or anything

Happy with this emotional realignment

Brimming with joy

Because you have nobody to please, you see

Not a care in the world

Comfortable in your skin, comfortably lonely.

Non-Permeable

Non-Permeable

I used to get hurt, a lot.

Little things would make me cry,

And then one day, I decided not to

I wanted to be stone cold, I had to try.

So hurt me all you want

Try with all your might

Insult me even when you can’t

I won’t put up a fight.

All I’ll be is cold, stone cold

And as calm as can be

Non-permeable emotionally

Is the new me.

So throw all the cussing my way

Send me old convos and call me a witch

Say I made you do things

I’ll take all the backlash, I won’t flinch.

Love and Other Flukes.

Love and Other Flukes.

I finish smiling at the phone and hang up. My cheeks hurt from having to fake it. I’ve been faking it since forever now. I turn off the phone and put it away.

I hate being weak. I hate it that every time this routine phone call happens, I feel dumb and I feel like a compromise. Why would he pick me anyway? He’s perfect. I’m far from it. And we’re also in this long-distance thing where we talk everyday on appointment-basis. Which means, he calls and talks to me for twenty minutes on the daily. And that I’m supposed to be thankful for it. And he says I’m supposed to be happy he doesn’t cheat on me, even though all the women at work throw themselves at him.

My hands itch to find a fresh new razor.

I kind of started cutting myself when I was with another man, before him. Stopped when I met this guy, but he turned out to be the exact same piece of trash in a different meat-suit, and the whole process started again. I don’t cut myself in obvious places. Only my thighs. We’ve never had sex with the lights on, and he’s never paid attention to my scars. And when we meet, once in a while, they’re almost healed anyway. Sometimes I feel like I’m an abomination that can’t be loved. That everything about me is wrong and dirty and unworthy of someone’s time. That men only ever want to be with me because I’m something that must be pitied upon. Hot tears blind my eyes and revulsion rises inside of me like bilious vomit for even daring to think of myself with so much self-pity – and at the same time, I ask myself why am I even here. If I had a gun, I would have blown my own brains out years ago. Nobody would have known. Not till the apartment started to reek and someone ended up calling the authorities to investigate.

I fantasize about death, a lot. An unhealthy awful lot.

I find a shiny new blade and start tracing the word LOSER on to my right thigh. I’m calm when I have open wounds. I’ve always been this calm when placing calculated obvious incisions at the morgue too. Cutting myself is a whole different rush. And it heals me and it calms me down. I look at the clock. Two hours have passed and I’ve been exactly a year older for two whole hours and I never noticed.

I pat LOSER dry but she continues to bleed.

The “Omnivore” Debate

The “Omnivore” Debate

Humans were primarily vegetarian, did you know that? This whole omnivore thing came into being because that’s what we concluded, as per our convenience.

A few pointers that actually stress on the point that Homo sapiens sapiens were actually meant to be vegetarian:

• Lack of pointy AF canines. We only have tiny little baby canines.

• The presence of the vermiform appendix which now exists for the sole purpose of causing you pain, but actually played a key role in ancient history when man most certainly ate the bark of trees and different forms of cellulose.

• The fact that you don’t see a dead chicken carcass and automatically go OMG I want to eat it.

I think the meat thing happened by accident. Man discovered fire, and some animal fell into it and it must have smelled good or whatever and steak was discovered. I’m kidding.

Before this thing gives me angina, I’m going to retire for the night. This was also probably the most half-a**ed post I’ve done in a long time. Between headaches and work and having to deal with grown up children that don’t belong to my body, I’ve really had a rough day. Anyway. Is it just me, or are chicken wings hella tempting and maybe I should go back to eating them?

Also, what do you think of the whole man was designed to be someone that ate a plant-based diet debate?