Monday, October 16, 2017

I DON'T BELONG...



Conformity is a huge undertaking when it makes our gut hurt, skin crawl and feels so very alien and yet, there is a certain comfort in the uncomfortable that we long for, need, and we occasionally wax nostalgic in dreamy remiss.

Sometimes, I wish in another time-and-place there wasn’t any need for validation, because in that “need” we end up swimming in the river of ambitious expectation. We put a lot of hope in humanity that they will ease up on judgments and perhaps try to accept things outside the self. But it doesn’t happen.

And I understand that when there are differences, they may appear twisted and create a fear that rises from the core, yet most of these so-called fears are nothing more than an ignorance and lack clarity. Fears often stem from emotions that are simply misunderstood.


But the masses have a fascination with the wild, mysterious and dangerous side of the soul, and this is where so-called normal people sit. They sit out on the ledge talking; always talking. Talking and assessing things they know nothing about. The language is trite, the mood is somber and painful. Mission accomplished, that ‘normal being’ hurts so many people.


"Most people are other people. Their thoughts are some else's opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation." - Oscar Wilde


In childhood, we learn this trick early on. We learn to size-up a person, a place, a thing with little knowledge of the whole. The opinions are large, and they make us feel better about ourselves… how odd it is to knock someone down to feel better? And the irony of this is: deep inside those insecurities and judgments, is pure jealousy for the unique and the mystic person as a free person….

But as they talk in metaphors, the karmic wheel goes round.

Standing on the outside of many worlds

A loner with thousands of friends
Fitting in only at surface level and never allowed into the circle
Open arms, closed fists
Mysterious queries
Major judgments
The sects always have something to say
And I weep for the future



So please don’t let anyone tell you how far away from the line in the sand we are – just hold their hand so you can cross over it together.

Sometimes, the worst part of being the odd human is the empathy we carry; it can really be confusing and contorted. But to jump in and fix it all isn’t always the solution - and we just have to sit back and let life in. This means better listening, better understanding and betterment all around. No sugarcoated promises and no half-truths laced in sparkling words.

The pictures painted in our world are dulled-to-core so we have to guess at the meanings and try to be wiser in discerning the contrived and miscalculated visions. But the beauty of it all is: there will always be a way to color a brighter scene. An awakening can be found every time we opt out of someone else’s expectations.

The only way to make peace with it all is to step away from the things that don’t make sense to others and release them. Yes, just “Let that shit go.” What works for one doesn’t necessarily work for all and the sooner we wrap our heads and hearts around this, the easier it is to have peace with just who we are.

We are organic creatures that die inside ‘normal.’ Forced to ridged, molded and someone we can’t relate to is the definition of suffering. I bow to the misfits, the poets, artists, musicians and the dreamers…

Thursday, October 12, 2017

IT'S FALL




Pulling out of the wreck of twisted emotions 
I stand up; brush myself off 
dirty, shaken, and confused
It takes a bit of time before the reality of the moment unleashes its 

fury upon my soul 

I am bitter
I am angry 
I am filled with an unfamiliar energy that is trying to consume me
I resist
I don’t like the way I am wearing this emotion
I try to run; it follows me
I try to forget; it hangs on
and just when I am at my edge
a sudden rush of truth
explodes inside
tears turn to relief
Relief turns to forgiveness
I unfold
intricate tapestries play a song in my head
a matrix of experiences
golden leaves and blacked skies
it all makes no sense 
yet every single moment has, had and will have purpose
hands to the heart center
and like seasons we cycle
so I avow to let the healing begin again
and again
it’s fall 
-debbie lynn

“Of all the paths you take in life, make sure a few of them are dirt” – John Muir

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Tuesday, October 10, 2017

LOVE LOST TO ADDICTION



[Note to self - The ill considered]
[Note to self - The ill considered]

Please give me your silence; it offers so much more.

It isn’t fair to stand behind words have no substance and transparent disinterest. The vapid “I am sorry” that acts as a filler of insipid concern (as if there is nothing else to do or to say) – it leaves a cold chill.

Sorry: An overused and trite expression that so easily pops out the mouth into thin air, and is expected to take care of business - So casual… this malady; it is meaningless and I just have to ask, why bother?

I watch you wrestle with unimaginative empathy as you embezzle feelings (because you have none left to give) and I wonder where the truth is actually hidden in you these days. Are you so damaged that there is no way out?

I don’t think so; I know you better than that – and numb really isn’t your best color.

Perhaps you could put the ego/pride aside if only for a moment - and remember. Remember what it was like to love fully, deeply and without a reason. Remember when your wild side was mystic, enchanting and vividly expressed with elegant intent.

Remember when you were happy?

Apologies are only as good as the designed intention, and if you think yours is clean – you are wrong; it is dirty. I implore you to bathe in some indigo authenticity. Not for me, for your heart, for your honor and your truth.

This reflection holds many secrets and you have shown me the empty well as an example of who not to be. A forgery, an imposter an artificial soul that is intoxicatingly gorgeous but completely dead inside and I weep. Addictions are real.

One day all that plastic will break down to nothingness, with only a shell of who once was there – but not to worry, change is good as long as you are able to get above the frenzied garbage of the contrived. Being true is self-evident when we see through rose-colored glasses but when blinded by an old story there is nothing rose-colored about it… and you know.

It isn’t that I am looking for the original to come back, it is just a longing to have some semblance of that beautiful essence I know exists under a guise of empathy laced with sadness – and all the words of void that are spoken out of obligation, (not significance or care) are so frigid.

Take a chance and run ablaze.

Give me your fire, your warmth and comfort. Lost is a place to be found again and again so please don’t be afraid of the light - your darkness doesn’t become you. All I ask for is the truth no matter what kind of pain it inflicts, it is far better than unattended words that are never going anywhere.

-debbie lynn


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