Grace

Emptiness.

I know for a fact, now, that I am no longer empty.

I have no idea what I'm filled with, but I found something, so precious, and so fragile, that I just grasped it between finger and thumb and tugged on it ever so gently.

And no, it hasn't completely filled the void, but I'm getting there, it's a sense of self,

a sense of Identity, a sense of belonging in one's own body.

I am still angry. all the time. About being me, about not being what people want, about being what people find annoying, and stupid.

Anger is something I find hard to embrace, it kind of just sits in the tip of my mind, and I need a lot of pain to evaporate it away, which shouldn't be necassary, but to get rid of it, I have to run through my head why I am angry, and it is always at myself, and so I must tell myself what is wrong, with myself, how ironic, and then I must evaporate the anger, and it takes a lot of pain.

And that just didn't make any sense. It wasn't meant to make any sense to anyone but myself.

i just know, that resurfacing those things which hurt the most, is a good thing. It helps you realise, this is what has happened to you, and you have to deal with it, accept it, it is a character building event.

If you love until the pain is intense, the pain just sort of dies away, and the love grows back, sometimes, maybe, in relationships it shouldn't.

Life is never hard, it just isn't easy. keep it glass half full and things should work out. right?

But there are some things in life which just can't fill that empty hole, the hole that can't be filled with money, with possessions, with family.

I'm not one to complain a lot.

I don't like complaining, and at this point in time, I have nothing to complain about, but because theoretically, there is only one person reading this blog, and it isn't googleable, then it shouldn't matter what I say.

And theoretically what I have to say doesn't matter, because I am another person out of the 6,692,030,277 that there are on this planet, and why should I be different, why should I be special, why me, why should I be chosen to do this and that, Why should I be loved, why should I believe, when the things that there are to believe in are overcrowded with believers.

All these questions I ask, I have no answer to, but in my subconscious, I know what is right, I know what I should say, but sometimes I just don't feel that way. I know I should, but what is it to me, what is it that makes me more than a pile of carbon compunds, why do I have feelings and emotion that run so deep, not even I can dig them up to find them, why do I have to find belief.

It's because, like yesterday,

I want to end with an end,

Everybody does, no one wants to finish before the finish line, we all want to reach it.

The world is an interesting place.

Created so beautiful, yet so sinister and dangerous, the landscapes harsh and unforgiving, yet with curiosity we roam, and we discover the earth. It cannot be a coincidence that the earth was created so perfect, so unique, and it cannot be a coincidence that we were given brain and legs to stand on, arms to hold out, hands to grasp, eyes to see, ears to hear, and a mouth to taste the wonders of nature.

It can't be coincidence, a coincidence so perfect, so surreal, just can't happen.

Someone had to want this, someone had to believe this could work, whether it be a God, or a figment of my imagination, I am beginning to see the bigger picture, the exquisite belonging who is me, who is you, what is the world. Everything counts, every miniscule detail is thought out.

I just can't comprehend this planet anymore, all of a sudden it becomes to big, too mesmerizing, too amazing.

And still, I am a fraction of this planet, but inside of me, there is a hole, waiting to find the meaning of this.

'I'm on my knees 

Only memories are left for me to hold 

Don't know how but I'll get by 

 Slowly pull myself together 

 There's no escape  so keep me safe 

 This feels so unreal 

 Nothing comes easily 

 Fill this empty space 

 Nothing is like it seems 

 Turn my grief to grace'  

'What would you do if you knew the truth?
What would you do if I told you the story of my life?
Would you find me overly familiar towards you?
Would you call me crude, fling me aside to the birds?
What do I do with all these feelings holding me back inside?'