Performativity, a critical observation of self.

Not much has changed, I arrived on this earth as a mere observer and I have only a vague collection of early memories.

Defiantly conditioned by the loss of all male role models.

Having, embracing, loosing and coping with the loss of the lost.

Thus tainting men like a nuclear warhead.

Live OR Evil…

Shall I offer the second chance for redemption?

Nothing has changed, except now I have a time-obscured perception of my teenage years.

The mishap that was my adolescent era- voided by uncertainty and enthralled by angst – somewhat the participant within life’s unscripted, fragmented slapstick routine.

I had, I took for granted, I let myself go, and lost my mind.

I fall to my knees at the entrance of this sparse lacuna- my secrets under lock and key, my fantasies, simpler times, a smaller bra size and the haven where I am disguised without the dull misery one has been conditioned by.

Nothing will change, the past year has been a real life case study of how not to live, what not to do, what not to take.

I was prescribed, I took, I relied, I became tranquilized and I didn’t find.

I was promised the light, yet remained stranded within the depths of my jungle.

“Per aspera ad astra”

 My brain was the impenetrable vegetation, and overactive thoughts posed as fierce inhabitants that compulsively rehearse what has happened, what hadn’t happened, what could of happened, what may happen, what I’m sure was going to happen, and what I wanted to happen.

Dear fierce inhabitants, please divulge your master plan unto your master, the one with the mere human heart.

I am in a Doom OR Mood.

I have explored the emotions that lie underneath my shoes, the ones that you conjure with your claws, and the ones I trample on with the vain hope of their disintegration.

Something’s are changing.

Finally growing up, straddling my current benevolent existence.

  Journeying across the bridge, creating an alliance with sanity to prosper and rise with freedom. Purpose, fiction, opinion, confession.

 One is no longer restricted to the confines of the mind anymore, I do not pout at the circumstances, or at the revolution I am creating within, yet I survey my chances as an emancipated traveler, we come alive in the eyes of fear so I permit my mind to escape onto these walls, onto paper and onto any secondary material.

Something has changed, aged 21 and a half I am a veteran, equipped with all of the substances that convert me into something of a norm.

Inhabiting an illusionary mind space that imprints a state of resonance, I sink into what seems another life, framing the losses and seek solace that I am reimbursed with wisdom.

Now, I have the sunrise in my pocket.