Atlas.

-
Turning twenty is an awfully big deal, you are not a teen anymore, no one has the right to treat as a child now. Everything will be different. It's supposed to feel different.
now you get to be independant and think for yourself instead of being the box that everyone deposite their thoughts and beliefs in. Now you can figure it all out.
The past five years of  revolting confusion has come to end, right?
no, sorry to burst your bubble, but that's not the case.
Actually, the first few years of your twenties are life the first years of your birth.
You realise that there is so much that you have been missing, an a lot more things to learn that you ever thought you could, and that the world is so immense and enourmeous, and that your journey in this life has just began.

At your early 20's, you still need to learn protocols of human communication, you still need to digest and process the complexity of human beings, you might not get there right awaym but all you can do is at least try.
You'll hit the runner wall and the writer's block multiple times, and maybe you'll be a little bit more lost than ever, gong back to starting point and starting from scratch.

The road to your soul will reveal itself slowly, don't be afraid to go straight ahead without hesitation, it might scare you a little, and make you question your previous choices, but this is something you can't run away from or choose to ignore.
You have to take this step, you have to know yourself better than anyone else so no one will dare try to change you or faze you, ot pretend to know what's best for you more than yourself.

Only then you'll be able to stand against everything, only then you'll manage to connect with the world, and to understand the universe better.
Only then you'll turn from invisible to invincible without losing your compassion towards others, and manage to biuld bridges between you and another soul, you'll establish the kind of a connection that occurs only once in a lifetime.
and all the steep roads that you had to discover on your own, all the dangerous allies and the dark corners inside of you will start making sense, all the interwined paths that you paved will welcome another soul with undeniable warmth.
and only then you'll be complete.
It doesn't have to be tomorrow or even a year from now, all you should true is keep your heart exposed, and don't cover up the canvas in your brain.
Keep your head held high, your shoulders stright and your eyes wide open.
For this world has a lot to offer, and you have the capacity to absorb it all.

 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

mirror

-
My thoughts are not holy, My body isn't a temple It's not a sacred space It's tender flesh and a fragile spine, It's nothing remotely divine, It's belimished skin and visible markings, I know there is solace in metaphors, in similes, in saying things not as they are but as what they're like,  in trying to compare what you can't understand to what you do, Maybe only then it will make sense, Trying to simplify it, pulling threads and tying ends and loosening knots, trying to make it look familiar, But it is almost never accurate, Words are just letters, More times than not they hold little to no significance. Little to no reassurance, little to no validation, Sorry , a half hearted apology Always met with sincere acceptance. 
Read more

The apartment

-
 When I think about my ideal house. I think wide balconies,  I think penthouse,  I think small yet not claustrophobia inducing.  I think roomy but not huge.  I think large but just enough to house two people and a pet, preferably a cat.  I think walls, muted yellow and forest green,  I think walls that you can pin me against and kiss me. I think walls, unlike the ones I keep around my heart, that aren't prone to crumbling at any hint of tenderness. I think walls I can hang up pictures of us. Crappy art I make and posters of your favorite things. I think of walls that have ears but never heard screaming or anger, I think of walls that have never witnessed disappointment.  I think of warm nights and cool breeze and long hugs and affection unaccounted for. 
Read more

The Quest.

-
I know regret when I see it, I spot it easily on your grey blotted aura. It glistens through your bloodshot eyes,  the windows of your soul, one glance is more than enough to recognize it. You have taken it upon yourself to seek redemption, From things you have no control over, but it never hurts to try. The sought after resurrection of what have been long dead will drain you, yet, you carry on, with a broken compass and a useless map, determined to revive what was once alive, reclaim what was once yours, But you can't seem to find it. That missi ng thing. You tell yourself that you've got nothing to lose and maybe Just maybe This time there will be a different outcome. A lie you cradle along with the truth. And when you go back to where you started, You swallow your pride and  disappointment, Like splinters of wood,  But your insides are lined with sandpaper, your spine is made of steel, and none of it longer fazes you.
Read more