🔥181: karmic crescendo

TW

anxiety-riddled,

my head is a constant battle of sounds

and feelings crashing

like waves into each other;

interference scares me.

as does being out of rhythm,

missing too many beats — i am

conflict-averse but i am also

realistic:

i know that

sound travels faster

through solids and liquids

than through the air,

can be distorted

and interfered

into oblivion—

that when

push comes to shove,

whisper networks

can only reach so far.

choirs of screaming matches

between metoo advocates and rapist apologists

crescendos of nails 

scraped across a board

feel a bit too familiar

like listening to white noise and broken records on repeat

while scrolling through toiletpaperworthy nonapologies 

witnessing victims collectively crying in an orchestra of agony

and then be blamed for attention-seeking at best

of causing their own suffering at worst

although it pains me to listen to these tragic tunes

i find it amusing how so many mishear this collective choir as 

survivors celebrating with silly receipts in cancel parties

serving blistering hot tea sweetened by revenge - no

all this is anything but 

cathartic.

it’s to make people aware

that the same melodies are sung or screamed by those who suffered similar pains

and so that those of a similar frequency know

there are those who listen

that their voice matters

and we are not alone.

- karmic crescendo

20210315

💜💜💜180: konmari

one of these days, i'm going to write about how taking care of my heart
is a chore i wish i took more seriously.

every time i try to clear out the cobwebs inside my chest, i bump my head and shoulders into things hooked on its walls; knock my knees and toes into things stuffed in its nooks and crannies.
i would lay low and slowly
unpack the baggage i accumulated and start learning to compartmentalise,
unhang the skeletons of souls that have been chasing me in my dreams,
undogear the chapters that are done and dusted where you, like all the others, remain a metaphor, a foreshadowing, a symbol, a period that i thought would fit my lifelong sentence,
but that's a story for another day.

my obsession with hoarding memories like my life depended on it
has long been a problem
just like my system being an "organised mess"
— you and i both know, i am the mess.
until i can fold away my feelings from my past
and tuck away my thoughts about my future
to make sense of my present,
i will have to keep collecting these scattered words and phrases
waiting to be bound and sealed in a box somewhere.

one of these days, i'm going to write about how taking care of my heart
is a chore i took seriously
so that when it stops beating
it is full
and light
at the same time.

- konmari (draft?), 20200218 1347

🔥179: supreme

there is much to be said

about mass manifestations

in a time of moral panic

the small yet steady streams

of serfs in socially-distant safs

earnestly serving the Sublime with

practised platters of prayers in parted palms

and pleas pattering through covered lips

to pave the best path for the departed;

to pad the blow for the broken-hearted.

in tongues

sometimes familiar 

mostimes foreign,

i can't help but marvel

at our divinely unity

in seeking Infinity.

- Supreme (draft)

Ori: 20200624 02:03

Edited: 20200704 21:55

...

there is so much

to be said about

mass manifestations in a time of moral panic;

serfs in socially-distant safs

serving the Sublime

with platters of parting palms

and pleas through covered lips,

to pave the best path for the departed

to pad the blow for the brokenhearted.

in tongues

sometimes familiar 

mostimes foreign,

i marvel at our unity

in seeking Infinity.

- Supreme (draft), 20200624 02:03