All things must come to an end for those greater things to begin.
My Life: beautiful.
My Love: lost.
My Self: anew.
My Education: over.
My Real Life: about to begin.
Going Raw has changed my life. I am who I used to be, who I've yearned to be, who I have always wanted to be. I am happy. And as sad as it may seem, that is a very difficult thing to have and to hold within this societal confine we live in. Happiness. It's a secret, it's a gem, it's a diamond in the rough. Don't let it go. It's the hardest thing to get back.
**What you thought was love. The love that binds the inner workings of an entangled web. Light, flowing strands, attach the cord to every thing it can, attempting to bind all that lives inside of you, all that breaths, all that is born of your swollen, dying womb. An honest attempt to connect, a naive attempt to grow, to expand: it is the love of the lower nature. It is the love of matter, the love of the screaming darkness, the love of loneliness: always the nature of the vital. A desire. Sticking and wrapping and choking off all circulation, leaving you breathing in contaminated air. Blinding your clearest sight. Believing the sounds you can not hear. And falling into your deepest, darkest despair; dragging your heart, your soul, and your delicate intellect through the pungent feces of the lower vital. And your poor vision keeps you from seeing, your poor will keeps you from trying, your slowing heart keeps you from feeling . Held in contempt, the rage subdued, the numbness pulsating through every moral you thought you had. But instead sold to the devil of despair. Sold to the devil that resides within the deepest desires of your sacred well, left wishing away all memories, hopes, and dreams. Running the well dry, killing your love, your life, your purpose softly.**
This is where I have been, but will never be again; dragging the weight of the world's waste, contaminating everything I sought to do, to try, to acquire, contaminated by the filth that I carry no longer. After years of wasted breath, wasted love, wasted hope, I finally conjured up the strength to let it all go. Simply let go.
And it fell.
It fell so far, so long, I never heard it hit bottom. And I didn't care. I didn't look back. Instead I smiled for the first time in years. I could finally smell the fresh, sweet air, finally breath, finally see. And I ran. One thousand pounds lighter, the feathered wings of my heart dissipated into the light as the landscapes of my past slowly vanished before my eyes. I ran.
Here's to "dojay" and her pregnant womb; and to every single creation/experience/happening she will soon give birth to.
love yourself.
go raw.
peace.
d.rose
