Ugly, Ugly World.

I remember I asked someone dear to me the other day, do you know yourself?

And, his reply was no one knows me better than I know myself.

Incorrect.

I think we are always in the process of knowing ourselves. It is not a one-time thing. There are epiphanies but overall it is a life-long process. I am into it as much as you are. Only this humility, this open-ness can take us forward and nothing else will. All other means are regressive as well as repressive to our state of being. To contemplate over this is to connect with your raw emotions, to tap into all your senses, sensual and otherwise. It is like calling out for your innocence when you are no longer in an infant's body. 

I have this thing about me, I can smell death in people's eyes. Because, death is not just a metaphor for me, it is rather a way of life. I do not connect to anything so well as I connect to suffering. Yes, I have been called a "sadist" a number of times by my friends but they know when they have no one, they will always have me. So, I believe that goes.

For pain to me is a very raw emotion, that connects me to the truest of other selves. Indeed, I have fooled myself a couple of times into believing what I am not and it has certainly been terrible. I have evolved from being a hyper-independent self to a muted, balanced version of this free and independent self. I fooled myself for quite a long time than I would remember that I have this masculine sense of desire that is insatiable. So, this carnal side of me devoured everything else. I thought I was full when all I was, was empty, terribly empty. 

(Though it is not to state that there is anything like a "masculine sense of desire" that is primarily consuming. It is just a reflection of my gendered view while I am quite a suffragette for Woolf's androgynous mind.) 

It is only recently that I can try to comprehend how it is about me. Yes, I am still so absolutely carnal and full of rage. But, in a feminine sense. Now, my feminine self which I am so proud of, would replace carnal with sensual and well rage is just rage. Although, let me tell you, feminine rage is more consuming. It is not armed but I feel like my vagina has teeth now and I can call out your demons and then it's only bones you will be left with. 

I am loud. I get pierced and tattooed on Valentine's as a ritual. 

But, I do not forget that I am soft. 

I am loud but I am also flowers. 

I am crazy. I would love like it's the only drug. 

And, while I am very understanding about a different way of living, I know that your problem is not my problem when mine is only mine. 

I would write letters. I would have you close. 

My passion is very consuming but it is also very much life-affirming. 

I remember everything and that just gets worse sometimes. 

I consider that if we all want to heal and grow, we need to bare our souls. 

We should do that without shame, without any reservations, fearlessly. 

We need to know that every particle in us is in communion with everything else outside of us. 

We need to know love.

We should know that we are worthy of being loved. 

We need to keep believing because the other road my dear is not just alone but also lonely and that's not where we would want us to be. 

I am everything that I could be. 

You are everything that you could be.

But, together, my dear, we would be extraordinary.