To be alone with you...

I haven't posted in awhile and I don't have much to say right now...

I want to share this video though, something a friend shared with me that was something I needed.



If you'd like to read along...

HOW TO BE ALONE by Tanya Davis

If you are at first lonely, be patient. If you've not been alone much, or if when you were, you weren't okay with it, then just wait. You'll find it's fine to be alone once you're embracing it.

We could start with the acceptable places, the bathroom, the coffee shop, the library. Where you can stall and read the paper, where you can get your caffeine fix and sit and stay there. Where you can browse the stacks and smell the books. You're not supposed to talk much anyway so it's safe there.

There's also the gym. If you're shy you could hang out with yourself in mirrors, you could put headphones in (guitar stroke).

And there's public transportation, because we all gotta go places.

And there's prayer and meditation. No one will think less if you're hanging with your breath seeking peace and salvation.

Start simple. Things you may have previously (electric guitar plucking) based on your avoid being alone principals.

The lunch counter. Where you will be surrounded by chow-downers. Employees who only have an hour and their spouses work across town and so they -- like you -- will be alone.

Resist the urge to hang out with your cell phone.

When you are comfortable with eat lunch and run, take yourself out for dinner. A restaurant with linen and silverware. You're no less intriguing a person when you're eating solo dessert to cleaning the whipped cream from the dish with your finger. In fact some people at full tables will wish they were where you were.

Go to the movies. Where it is dark and soothing. Alone in your seat amidst a fleeting community.
And then, take yourself out dancing to a club where no one knows you. Stand on the outside of the floor till the lights convince you more and more and the music shows you. Dance like no one's watching...because, they're probably not. And, if they are, assume it is with best of human intentions. The way bodies move genuinely to beats is, after all, gorgeous and affecting. Dance until you're sweating, and beads of perspiration remind you of life's best things, down your back like a brook of blessings.

Go to the woods alone, and the trees and squirrels will watch for you.
Go to an unfamiliar city, roam the streets, there're always statues to talk to and benches made for sitting give strangers a shared existence if only for a minute and these moments can be so uplifting and the conversations you get in by sitting alone on benches might've never happened had you not been there by yourself

Society is afraid of alonedom, like lonely hearts are wasting away in basements, like people must have problems if, after a while, nobody is dating them. but lonely is a freedom that breaths easy and weightless and lonely is healing if you make it.

You could stand, swathed by groups and mobs or hold hands with your partner, look both further and farther for the endless quest for company. But no one's in your head and by the time you translate your thoughts, some essence of them may be lost or perhaps it is just kept.

Perhaps in the interest of loving oneself, perhaps all those sappy slogans from preschool over to high school's groaning were tokens for holding the lonely at bay. Cuz if you're happy in your head than solitude is blessed and alone is okay.

It's okay if no one believes like you. All experience is unique, no one has the same synapses, can't think like you, for this be releived, keeps things interesting lifes magic things in reach.

And it doesn't mean you're not connected, that communitie's not present, just take the perspective you get from being one person in one head and feel the effects of it. take silence and respect it. if you have an art that needs a practice, stop neglecting it. if your family doesn't get you, or religious sect is not meant for you, don't obsess about it.

you could be in an instant surrounded if you needed it
If your heart is bleeding make the best of it
There is heat in freezing, be a testament.

Raw, untouched, unedited.

It's been a tough few days for me, with news of the death of a good friend.
Makes you really think.

I've been writing, to try to clear my head a bit.

I enjoy poetry, as I feel I don't have to worry about structure too much, only emotion and feel.

Vocabulary

Sadness is a word.
One of many.
Words have incalculable power.
Not an original thought,
But a thought
That I am coming to realise,
Nonetheless.

A word can change you.
Break you.
Put words together and they create powerful things.
Confusion.
Anger.
Hurt.
Fear.
All words.

Vocabulary
Is many words
My sister
Didn't learn many words
I think that
It doesn't matter
Because she still
Understood more than any girl should

'Why?'
Is a simple question,
Commonly asked
Later,
When the tears have stopped
But the hurt still flows
Plentiful, steady,
And hot
Consistency of tar,
A roadwork of hurt.

‘Why?’
My little sister
Didn’t know many words.
I like to think that
Maybe
If she knew more words,
She’d be safer.
Her words were deep.
Simple
Emotion.

She tried to fight back
She tried
and
She tired
She hadn't yet learned
The words
To swallow the hurt.

I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner.
I'm sorry
That I can't tell you them now,
But when you find them,
Hiding in life's secrets,
Keep them.
Cradle them in the night
When you can’t sleep.
Hold on to them tight,
When you don't have my hand.
Learn them well
So that they're the last things you forget.

My little sister is not a word.
She is not a little girl.
I learned to swallow the hurt,
Years ago.
Now I swallow this hurt.

I wish I could've held you
While you cried.
I wish I could've told you,
One last time,
Three words,
That you didn't fully understand yet.

I love you.

* * *

The Shadow Puppeteer

Shadow puppets on the wall
Cast for this play by fingers small
The child nestles in her bed
Sleeping not, rehearses instead

Her curtains open to the sky
The moon peeps in as he rocks by
And hesitates, his movements slow
Hoping perhaps to catch the show

Oh, the tales told by this puppeteer
Of fairies and a magic mirror
She holds a flashlight with one hand
The other's a princess in a far off land.

She keeps his whispers soft and low
Hoping that I don't know
As she recites the genie's line
Or plays a pony with hair so fine.

And then Sleep's curtain softly falls
But in her dreams she still recalls
The fairy tales, the battles won,
Sadly now, her story's done.

* * *

Hereafter

Raw emotion, tears rapidly falling,
I hear voices but only whispers,
My hitching breaths, heart silently calling,
I wonder if she knows we miss her?
Because I can still hear her voice,
Soft and sweet and filled with laughter.
Sniffs, sobs, hopeless noise,
We reach desperately into the hereafter.

What were those magic words again,
The ones that could call her home?
I would have used them there and then,
She wouldn’t have had to leave alone.
Somehow, I can still hear her voice,
Soft and sweet and filled with laughter.
Sniffs, sobs, hopeless noise,
We reach desperately into the hereafter.

My heart is heavy and my head is low,
The world is so heaving without her to tease.
I keep wishing that I might know,
If maybe time will pass, and the burden ease.
Because I can still hear her voice,
Soft and sweet and filled with laughter.
Sniffs, sobs, hopeless noise,
We reach desperately into the hereafter.

I can still see her grinning face,
The way she smirked and the way she smiled.
In here, she will always have her place,
No matter where she is, be it time or miles.