Truth about Sensitivity

IMG_1339I pick up on every single thing…

Every single vibration that the universe has to offer… Every single day.

Some days it makes me smile infinitely, and on others it makes me weep uncontrollably to what feels like an eternity.

I feel happiness, sadness, anger, love, hate, malice, confusion, pain, sorrow, joy, fear, and everything in between. 

Sometimes I get so mixed up in the sea of vibrations that I can’t even tell the difference between my own feelings and others. 

I can connect and comfort the conflicted without speaking a single word. 

I can heal a broken heart just by knowing what it needs to heal.

I can ease the physical pain of an injured soul just by knowing exactly where the origin of the pain is.

I can see a whole world of secrets just by opening my eyes, and it is a gift that I can see and feel everything so vividly.

But there are some days where I cry, weep, and even scream on the inside due to the large cluster of vibrations I feel every single day… it can be far too much for my soul to bare.

Why is it so hard for me to distinguish one feeling to another and whether it is my own or not? Why can I feel things so deeply, like as if it’s happening to me? I have so many questions.

Some days I can answer them easily, other days I find myself lost for words.

In the meantime I continue to float along by the universe in search of my own lighthouse in the skies above.


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Soul Death Composition

Fallen_angelI have forgotten everything.

Existence itself has become ever so fickle to me.

What does this thing called existence mean?

I can’t remember anything beyond suffering.

My mind has forgotten what exists beyond the clouds.

Is there anything that exists beyond the clouds in my head?

I have forgotten what it was like to be me when I felt alive and whole.

I have been forgotten along with the many other broken souls who lie before me.

We have been left behind within the distant endless swirls of rusty grey dust and ash.

The composition of love is a complex concept for those who have sealed their hearts to avoid the cruel.

The formula of creating the death of a soul is the blackness from unforgiveness, hatred, and unrelenting malice.

Is there hope for the fallen? Is there hope for the broken? Is there hope for the lost? Is there hope for the lonely? Is there hope for the hated? Is there hope for the forgotten?

Yes.


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(NOTE: There is unity, comfort, and support that can be found by confiding in others. Don’t do this alone. You don’t have to do this alone. Help awaits no matter where you are in the world.)

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The Artists’ Lament

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The ocean of secrets is only within my own reach. 

Blood, sweat, and tears are the crucial ingredients to create the formula of the artists’ lament.

The canvas is my flesh as the paintbrush is the knife.

The artist’s lament is the color that soaks the paint brush of an unearthly color.

I am numb to the touch of anything beyond my own understanding.

I never thought that the truth would hurt like this.

Why must the artistic ones suffer the most to create the perfect picture?

Please cut the canvas open so I may sleep without the weight of lies tearing me apart.

Set me free.


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Loss Frozen Through Thoughts

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Painful thoughts throb in my mind as I drag through the days.

I’m not the same person as I used to be before everything happened. 

I changed after I knew I wasn’t wanted, needed, appreciated, and loved.

The hoops you had me jump wore out my legs, twisted my insides, and drained my spirit.

My heart and soul were bent and twisted to fit the kind of companion you wished for.

Sometimes I was your personal pet that you trained to be your own and no one else’s.

Sometimes I was your scapegoat to take the heat from your mistakes.

Sometimes I was used as a venting tool only when it was needed.

But never a true companion….

My own efforts to succeed beyond the finish line that was made for me went unnoticed.

A single mistake lead to harsh punishments and companion shaming… which led to companion hating.

You chose when to punish me and you chose when to forgive me.

The unconditional love you promised to give to me and all others was a fallacy.

Everyone else in your eyes was either a walking flaw or a soul who could do no wrong.

You could never see the pain you have caused, nor the damage that was done to me.

My world became shrouded in darkness for all to see.

Thoughts and feelings of sorrow froze into a nonstop neverending loop of madness.

Any spot of sunlight in my life appeared to be vile and obscene in your eyes.

One day I grabbed a sunspot and wrapped it around my body.

I let the light lift me up even when you attempted to grab my feet and pull me down.

I decided that I wanted to change and go to the next level.

I changed for the better. 

I changed to embrace a new tomorrow. 

You didn’t come with me.

You didn’t grow and flourish like how you said you would.

You didn’t wish for me to be happy or succeed.

You didn’t want to be happy and instead wished for pain on others.

You didn’t want to wish for a better tomorrow.

You didn’t want to be my true companion.

Life didn’t seem to work out in the way I wanted it to.

Unfortunately it just had to be this way.

Patches of old thoughts have yet to thaw out today, but for the most part it is Spring in my mind.

I still miss the old memories, the long laughs, the warm smiles, and times that were good to each other. 

But I can’t miss you, wish for your return, nor have you in my life again.

It has to be this way for the both of us.

I won’t question that.

I’m ready for a new tomorrow.

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Dream Journal: Vulnerabilities and Tattoos

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I had quite an interesting dream last night. Majority of the details in this dream were all directed to some aspect of my day to day life in my state of consciousness. Now, when deep down in the waters of my subconscious seems to reflect those same day to day aspects, but at such a deeper level.

The beginning of my dream is a tad bit fuzzy. The colors seemed off, but what I could make out was seeing a few of my co-workers in fuzzy black, white, and ROYGBIV spectrum fuzz. I could recall getting hurt at work and then one of my co-workers (we’ll call him Ty) managed to get me out of there and brought me to his house. I could not quite remember how I got hurt, but I remember so many people and things flying past me, it was so disorienting.

Anyway, I was brought to Ty’s house which was a beach style home not too far from the ocean and creek which was very similar to the one in my hometown. A few other co-workers made sure I got to some place safe, whatever the reason was I’m not entirely sure what I was being protected from. I remember being carried over into the guest bedroom of Ty’s home. His whole home had gentle white walls, different shades of blue and green furniture and tapestry, and light cherry oak colored cabinets and random thatch here and there. The light midday sunlight soaked through the windows and walls of this west coast abode. I was helped onto the bed and I saw that almost all of my clothing had been slashed in different places. In areas I thought I was bleeding or cut, there were vividly colorful tattoos there instead. There were really only a few areas on my body that were scratched or cut. I felt so unnerved and scared to have Ty try to examine me for cuts and bruises. I felt so vulnerable despite the fact that Ty and his partner were really kind to me while I was there. Ty was very nurturing, making sure I was alright and that I’d heal up quickly. I was allowed to stay for the night because of how bad my injuries were. I really couldn’t get up and moved and had a few casts on my limbs.

While I was there, Ty, his partner, and a few other friends came in to see how I was doing and just to hang out. Again I felt so unnerved and tense, but I did my best just to calm down and relax. I even felt my inner guidance ease me to fall asleep within my dream. Eventually I popped up fully awake in the dream freaking out about where I was, what time it was, and if I had to work. I undid a lot of whatever bandages were on me, from what I could tell was that some of them were taken off while I was asleep. Ty runs in to see what I was up to and I told him I had to go to work. He insisted that I stay put, relax, and not worry about it. I still managed to get up and move around with the best of my abilities. I was partially irritated because for some reason my wings (like I have wings, haha) were gone. Ty begged for me to stay put and to let him take care of everything. I had absolutely no freaking clue on why he was so frantic and almost in tears. When I mentioned the wings, he immediately took some cardboard scraps and started to form them into wings. I told him to stop and ran out of the room to the front yard.

As I was outside, I was urged to go back inside the house to relax and rest. Ty’s partner and a few other co-workers were outside in front of the garage and were wondering what I was doing. I kept bringing up that I couldn’t just not show up to work fearing I could get fire, no longer have an income, lose my home, etc. I was constantly being reassured that everything would be fine and that I could stay for as long as I wanted or needed to. I insisted against it and somehow angelic wings formed from my back, ripping more of my clothing, and I headed towards a dirt trail through the grass. Somehow I figured out very quickly that I was going to wrong way to work. I tried to call in to let the folks at work know that I was going to be a little late, despite the fact that I was already 22+ minutes late. Trying to get a hold of somebody was like pulling teeth, it was so frustrating. Nothing that anybody said made sense. Ty and the others were still urging me to go inside, but I still ran off insisting that I was ok, even though I felt pain in my body as I flew and ran. Other parts of the dream seemed to be phasing in and out of going to my old elementary school and finding people from work urging me to go back home, then I wake up from all of this dream craziness.

Lesson number one, watch what you eat- it could lead to weird dreams. Lesson number two, as weird as dreams can be, some of the motifs can unravel what is really going on in life. Lesson number three, learn to chillax when needed.

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Dream Journal- Part 2: The Archangel Encounter

(Note- due to size of dream journal entry, this will be a 3 part entry made up of 3 separate posts. This is part 2. Names and identities will remain anonymous.)

The affectionate night with Cain seemed to blend and bleed itself into a dream of soft, pastel, rose-colored streams of colored water that reflected ourselves sleeping with one another. I woke up with Cain standing behind me and found Janice and a few others still there in the morning. I was worried about her and asked where her significant other was. She told me that she had her boyfriend and not to worry. Well, I set up a special surprise and got her boyfriend to come to see us. He walked behind Janice and tapped her on the shoulder. She was ecstatic to know that he was there because he had been out of town for the longest time. They both kissed, walked off, and waved goodbye to me.

I turned towards Cain and we were starting to walk off as I heard my mom call to me. I run towards her and Cain had an expression of discomfort and worry on his face. I was excited to see her and gave her a hug. She told me about how she missed me and I expressed the same thing to her and we both asked each other a few mundane questions about our everyday lives. It was cut short when my mom sharply interrupted me and told me to drop every single thing that I was doing. I became ever so confused and asked her what she meant. She got even deeper as she told me to drop my job, my home, my surroundings, my friends, and now this new venture for it wouldn’t be good for me. She also told me she knew best and that I needed to come home. I kept trying to tell her that I couldn’t, even wouldn’t because I was happy. It didn’t seem to phase her at all and I just felt like part of me was being sucked in and couldn’t get away.

Cain told me it was time to go and I refused to leave, thinking that there was something wrong with my mom. She then tried to reach her hand out to me and told me not to go, crying hysterically. She started to morph and decay into a very nasty form that no longer even represented my mom. Cain grabbed me and said, “Come on Alex! Let’s go! You have got to let go of the past! Come on, let’s go!”. We both ran out of the stadium and into a completely different place from the school. I started to cry myself, feeling like part of me was being ripped away. Cain slowly walked up to me and gently carressed my hair and face, kissed me, hugged me and then stood in front of me with his arms on my shoulders. Our surroundings slowly started to morph into a softly sunlit green pasture with lofty trees and roaring mountains. 

In a gentle but stern voice, Cain explained to me how I had to drop my past and leave it behind me. I was hysterical and again felt as though something important was being ripped towards me. Cain was so patient with me, that I greatly appreciated. Anger started to grow more apparent on his face and I knew it was not towards me. He kissed me on my forehead, said I love you swiftly, and I said it in returned. He turned around and told me he would be right back and not to follow him. I asked for him to wait, but before I could go further, a few of my friends ran past me and followed Cain. Janice stopped for a second to tell me to stay here. I could hear a massive inhuman shriek coming from the distance as they ran across the stage and it morphed into a stone part of the mountain. 

I could no longer see them. I looked upon my surroundings and saw more hills, trees, and a body of water a few hundred yards away from me. I heard a soft male voice hit my ears and saw an angellic presence in front of me. To me, it looked like Archangel Chamuel. Long dirty blonde hair, soft rose white wings, a robe made of pinks, reds, and gold. His face looked immortal. I do not quite remember the message he protrayed onto me. But what I could understand was to not feel bad for others who have done wrong, don’t pity for people of the past, I’m doing the right thing, move forward, move on with my goals and dreams, have fun with friends, and stay with Cain. 

(Move onto part 3 of Dream)

(Back to part 1 of Dream)

-Alex

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