contemplation & composition.
singular reason for the delayed post. months have been good to me. many, many wins paired with very few losses. only defined as losses because i am still working on how i respond to them; therefore, a pessimist would have told you that there were more losses than wins. perhaps i am reshaping the way i respond to the nouns, verbs, and conjunctions. punctuating any emotion with a hyperbole caught between two brows. holding an ellipsis before i react.
my life has continued to reverberate through words, though i admit i’d like to be understood without them. forbearance is sporous with people. varying vibrational frequencies seldom move me enough to reflect on fertile thoughts. i sit in silence. observe facial expressions lift aglow whilst sipping a black coffee.
is language ritualistic?
i choke on my last sip as the formality proceedings require me to respond. and i do. wholesome. genuine. without any apocryphal prose. it then occurs to me that i may feel as if i belong to this ceremony in construct, but certainly not committed in subscription. are we able to simply sit here, without words, and exchange ineffable degrees rich in energy? energy transmuted through other senses if not solely reserved for humans? how plants and animals communicate… how cells respond to one another…? how the universe communicates through us?
does trauma refrain us from doing so?
do our bright hearts go through a substantial amount of trauma eventually making the “shine” dull over time? where people or events retract our childlike intrigue and declaration for hope. then somehow we're expected to purify said tumult reaching deep into a dark core to reinvent an arbitrary light that of which is supposed to regenerate a dulling heart? augh, it's all rather exhausting isn't it? furthermore, the cycle continues like torrential rainstorms on an island you once called home.
we can close our eyes, but we cannot close our ears. through the palatial sonics deep within our anatomy, there exists echoes of our surroundings. even in the quiet, there is no real silence. our heart beats. inhale to our chests. gargles and coos from a dysfunctional gastrointestinal tract. the list goes on…
essentially, the audial experience is a phenomenon we cannot discount. so, when people refuse to see you, they are still able to hear you. ignorance in hand, they are choosing not to hear you. regretfully, this happens all too often. in our pasts, in our present, and emphatically in through our futures.
a person must have an unprecedented sense of self in order to surrender to said energies. definitely not common in our society today. to be plugged in is a conscientious matter in my spiritual development: visually and audibly. safe to say that to recognize it in people is also an attribute worth the resume skillset shoutout.
discovering a precocious gem in a haystack requires patience and a healthy dose of curiosity. with no amplification. see what i did there. double pun intended.
i’ll take another coffee, thank you.
p.l.h,
a
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