I almost stopped writing my blog. Well, honestly, I did halt for a while, but I bounced back. During that time, however, I wondered if I'd ever blog again. Wondered if I should delete the account I've worked so hard to create, change its name, or do something else altogether. I thought about it all, believe me. Then I realized certain events are just a turning point...
Columbine Heart (a song)
Broken trails to awkward places
Places you felt broken, too
Mistakes disguised with feathered faces
Earning back what you outgrew
Kiss your life, man, kiss your life
Fly into the night while you still can
Kiss her hard to set it right
Just remember to be back by light
Bloody, beaten, bruised and alone
Pains are the feelings you couldn’t let go
Cry, columbine, as you let the wind blow
Thirteen hundred miles until you’re back home
Kiss your life, man, kiss your life
Fly into the night while you still can
Kiss her hard to set it right
Just remember to be back by light…
~
‘Cause it’s good to make time
To make time to make love
To make love your first thing
First thing every morn(ing)
For months I’ve been working on both forgiveness and trust, but realize forgiveness is easy compared to trust. Then there's the whole idea of gratefulness and feeling fortunate for things I didn't necessarily want, but definitely needed. I researched narcissism and toxic relationships and even spoke to a therapist. Turns out my situation was an acute case of "all hell breaking loose," which is entirely treatable—also avoidable. For this condition I was prescribed the following: 5 mg self love
3 mg ego
2 mg assertiveness
1 new apartment
and a daily dose of "no" (taken as needed, of course).
Healing sucks. There’s a time in between letting go (if you have the courage to do so when in a bad situation) and getting better when you’re in serious limbo. When you’re lost in a negative space between the frustrating past and unforeseen, anxiety-ridden future. It hurts badly, and you can’t quite place the pain because it moves around a lot.
But then I think: if a surgeon can correct the inner-workings of a human body by day and still have energy for a moonlight shift at night, why can’t this writer slash poet transform into a surgeon and heal her own heart?
Scalpel, please.
SpY is an urban street artist who got his start in the mid-eighties. He draws inspiration from observations of cities and their components. SpY's featured piece is called UPSIDE DOWN and showcases a parked car facing the wrong way around in Bilbao, Spain. A car recovery truck helped with the car's unique placement.
The artist's pieces serve as "...pinches of intention, hidden in a corner for whoever wants to let himself be surprised."
Spy him on Instagram: @spyurbanart