Seeing those places again, places that not many days ago were places of home, places of friendly faces didn’t feel so happy. It made me see days that have been amended and replaced those days. Slowed heartbeats and visual reminders of what I truly did miss. Even the bad I missed, missed being near blood ties instead of just years piled together. The core of me which is still so much the same, yet the actions of that interpretation of me were no longer my daily activities and I missed those bad things, missed the superficial graces and triumphs it had given me. Missed it so much, thought about making arrangements to visit my personal version of euphoria. Yet I never made those left turns to options that would destroy what I had begun to create. Just when it made me remember it’s beauty I cried for it’s pain as well. That euphoria was having no ties, no responsibilities. It bullied my mind with it’s heavy weight of love. See you love your habits, you addictions, but mostly I love the freedom on having no desire to meet the qualifications of others. They have heavy demands of you for all these reasons. I was comfortable those 285 days, and each moment I was high. So high that the negative of those around me didn’t weigh on me. I abandoned them and I taught myself how to survive and the person who is here now makes the choice to stay away from that love for my bad. She appears here and there in the most serene and comfortable of places but these days they are further away from what I knew of soothing ways to cope with life. Understanding the why of your personas of who is reflected in the images of our mirrors. Find that core of you are, then you can create these changes that will make others look to you with a quiet envy that is never loud because successes of this kind more of the building kind. Building a kindness for those who many others don’t understand. Sometimes the only way to truly connect with that you have had to visit those day and those worlds. Now green tree’s make quick appearances but doesn’t stay long. My love for her is fleeting unlike my real love. The realest love I have is for me. I acknowledge who I am on all levels, I relieve my sins to God where they belong. Not to any friend, family member or stranger on the street, and neither should you world out there. Being on this level of understanding is not for the meek at heart. Being bold, brazen and sometimes so wrong helps us to find right on levels beyond the average and I am above average, breaking away from the stereotypes because I don’t like stereotypes all statistics and commonality are used against a group, to build this negative classification tools. Who you are is unique and similar to someone else s and sometimes feeling the ability to completely be your self is the true gift.
As I revisited that place that I use to call home I realized that who was lingering there in the peppered mementos of the my past I saw a woman loosely sewn together. loosely pieced in happy, these days and this revised persona was no much different, just stitched a bit better, double woven and erratically placed with grace and hindering heart strings. I am proud of her, but I am not ashamed of that fleeting me that was so present in my eyes as I laid to rest her memory and I do miss her, miss her audacious and prettier self. I miss her more slender hips, and helpful way. I miss her more focused mind. I miss all of her but I will find a way back to her kinder attributes, I know I will because I demand it of myself.