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- ‘life within living’
inhale… exhale in… then out back & forth, oxygen to carbon the most simplest thing you can do to experience the most beautiful thing you can have: life. living. being alive. whatever shape or form it may take in your intellect, the result is the same, universally: the universe comes together to experience divine duality. take a breath.. then take another. again, the most mundane action a human can take, yet the most vital source of our survival but what about our existence? what can we do to easily exist? its also simple: be. life and death are synonymous… in order to begin, you have to let go just as the trees lose their leaves.. and as the sun begins to beam, the rapid growth of earth is something to admire. in the blink of an eye.. a tree can go from harsh and dry to giving shelter to butterflies… in a matter of minutes the sun can go from blocked and diminished to hot and pre-eminent.. up and down highs & lows.. was there really ever a difference? an object is still an object regardless if its facing north or south, A soul is still the soul regardless if on earth or in heaven, your path is still your path regardless if you go left or right.. the fork in the road is not for you to split yourself but for you to express yourself.. however you get to your destination is unique to the soul’s intent not the choice(s) you make no matter how you look at it, life is within itself. we are living life within ourselves.. but don’t let that go over your head.. Just as there can’t be life without living, you can’t have one without the other: God has life by us living like God so we take part in life by being life living.
- Without the arts, i am without identity…
Without the arts, i am without identity… Without the arts i am translucent. without the stroke of a wet brush dipped in vibrancy and intention, without being able to spread my perspective onto a clean slate of opportunity and openness, i am directionless and reserved. without the sweet melody of emotions and opinions, without the release of sorrow from my pen and relief for tomorrow in my head i am burdened and hopeless. Without the arts i am apathetic. without the focus of my lens and the shutter of my eye, without the reliability of my storage space, the unwavering desire to capture the moments in time, the drive for others to experience the past, in the present, for days to come.. without the view of the world cultivated by views from the world, i am empty & incomprehensible.
- What Really Matters
My home is being changed. And not for the better. It’s lowkey a pretty sight to see. Hazy skies. A bright red sun. Everything looks like there’s a filter over it. An apocalyptic filter, unfortunately. It’s hilarious that there are people that think that climate change is a myth. And even worse that there are people pushing that agenda. You’re higher up in society. You know the truth. But nothing will change. Not this time. Too much money is invested, with too little care. And because of that, it’s hard to breathe in my own home. I’m at risk of numerous health complications, and all I chose to do was exist. When did living become so taxing? When did my life equal death? Come to think of it, it’s been that way the whole time. Wildfires are just one example. Ridiculously poor air quality is another. But this life will pass. Abiodun will not exist forever. And you know what, there is solace in that. If this is how I go out, then so be it. I loved this life. I love the freedom to just be that I expressed every day. I love my girlfriend to death. That’s what’s in the vows anyways, right? It’s been a blessing. And until my last breath, I’ll enjoy every moment of it. Whether that be now or later. I’m grateful. Thank you to climate change, big corporations, and life itself, for taking my breath away.
- For My Love
Without you, I am in a state of longing My heart is full and ready to give My body is pulsating with energy My love knows no bounds. I needed somewhere to put them... My heart found a home right next to hers My body found it's match, motions leading to convulsions is the proof. My love found it's object of focus The most beautiful girl in the world, Has released me from all tension Relaxing into appreciation.
- My Love..
my love.. as you say ‘my love’.. the words push air into my lungs and i breathe in feelings of peace and ecstasy. hopes for an authentic coalition rush through my chest, butterflies finding room in my hearts home oh, how ive waited years to hear these soft words wander through my ear canals.. it makes its way to my cognitive receptors, lingering along the paths carved into my brain that give my personal powerhouse its physical individuality.. every line resembling the many lovers that have walked through my mind, leaving a dent in their footsteps.. you say “you are love(d)” something about those words used to feel so foreign to me.. with intent for reassurance, you give me more than bargained for.. instead of just a hug i’ve got a home, instead of kisses ive gotten energetic imprints, instead of love-making i’ve gotten divine union. constant waves of anxiety and self sabotage try to overcome my surfaces.. in an attempt to drown out the fear, i connect my bluetooth to your voice and allow nothing but sweet somethings to interfere with trauma’s vibrations. i tune my antennas to TwinFlame.FM and wait for the daily dose of excitement to echo through my spatial awareness
- Why ? {Part 1-3}
[Part 1] Why cant I breathe? Why cant I speak? Why is it that when i do speak, it feels as if i'm only opening my mouth and moving my lips... I feel my tongue flick onto the roof of my mouth, A way my body is helping me enunciate and pronounce my sentences, But yet it still feels as though i haven't said a word. I feel as though i've been silenced. Like my word is no longer bond. I've been betrayed by my own body and mind. I thought I was the one in control of this specimen, of this consciousness... But they’ve overrun me and decided to have a mind and body of their own. I guess i should be happy that they're deciding on being in control or gaining their independence since it was stripped of them so many times.. Maybe i wasn't a good owner so they had to do what they thought was best.. Everytime i was in control something went wrong. My control, my choice, my decision-making... It was all done by someone else, And my body and mind finally agreed that enough was enough. That i wasn't doing enough to protect them... That i wasn't taking good care of me so “if you want something done right you gotta do it yourself” right? I tried to though.. i tried to be the best caretaker i could be. I tried voicing my thoughts and taking my own steps. But were they really steps of my own? Or was I forcibly and subconsciously walking in someone else’s shoes on a completely different path? Was i under the impression that it was all my idea or was it made up in someone else’s mind? None of that matters now... Because my body and mind have joined forces and came to the conclusion that i should be punished for all the failed attempts of being myself. My mind is now like a movie theater that shows all those advertisements and other movie trailers without anyone really asking to see them, but you sit there and watch it anyways because you want to get to the movie.. I try to ignore the constant murmur of the screen because i convince myself "that's not what i'm here for” and i try to hold on to patience until they’re over. But eventually i make an excuse to leave, like "i have to use the bathroom", And i step out of the theater for some peace and quiet.. Some would say this is compartmentalism, Others would say its suppression... But what it is, is debilitation and exasperation... [Part 2] ... Just like every movie theater needs movies to play. Every movie needs actors to act. And my body is the perfect thing for the job. Its like an actor that does the part SO well that you believe the actor is like that character in real life... Except, it is in real life. My body acts according to the movie that's playing involuntarily in my head... Allowing me to live within the motion picture as if it were happening right before my eyes... Only these scenes did happen. And instead of movies, its more like reruns of bad 80s shows that you try to tolerate for the sake of entertainment. My heart seems to be the only thing that actually is in sync with me anymore , As it acts like the remote trying to change the channel, but constantly needing a change of batteries... All the while, the reruns play on. Without me or anything else to stop it from airing... I just have to sit back and watch it because i don't have any other choice other than to leave the theater. But if i leave.. some would call this disassociating... Would that really be so bad? If you don't like something or no longer enjoy it wouldn't you leave? You’d go to another theater or stop going to theaters altogether right? What bothers me though, is that every movie always has the same plot... It may be different actors, but the storyline always stays the same: Girl meets boy , boy likes girl , girl declines boy , boy overpowers girl , girl hates girl , and boy moves on... Which brings me to the question: Why? Why can’t girl not meet boy, or why can’t boy not overpower girl? Why does boy feel the need to rip girl of her innocence, of her childhood, of her independence, .... of her soul? Why can’t boy just take “NO” for an answer and THEN move on? Is it not enough for boy to manipulate and humiliate girl? But then have to strip her [metaphorically and literally] of her womanhood in every way, shape, and form? Why can't girl fight back? Why doesn’t girl know how to fight back? And unfortunately, most detrimentally, why does girl stop trying to?... [Part 3] ... I’ve asked these questions periodically over the course of my life up until this point.. And i never seem to get the answer, only more questions. Regrettably the list never subsides... Sometimes I answer my questions with more questions and it becomes this never ending loop of a horribly put together Q&A except there is no “A”. I tell myself “its just all a part of the plan”... That these questions weren’t meant to have answers, That i was only created to ask/generate them. Maybe my purpose was to be a vessel in questioning the human species. My life path is the humanitarian as I’ve now come to know, so maybe humans were meant to leave me questioning humanity, Or maybe i am the question.. in and of itself. Just something that gets people thinking, that starts conversation, that attracts people’s interest, sometimes even raises suspicion.. I sometimes wonder why am i even here at all... Or if the universe would notice one less question amongst the rest. Was it really worth everything to be stuck with the same questions? Or did i create these questions all on my own without the help of anyone at all.. Maybe all that I’m meant to be isn’t who or what... It’s. Just. Why. -- J.S.
- Anxiety & Depression
Truth is, im scared. And no im not talking about spiders (even though i have a bad case of arachnophobia).. But of the creepy, dark feeling of the suicidal thoughts crawling back into my head. I thought i killed every last one, but my illnesses have planted new embryos of negativity and horrendous possibilities all over my brain. Each hatchling sinking its fangs into my consciousness, making it hard to suppress the poisonous venom from my soul’s spirit. I tried to find the antidote. I used every strain from Sativa to Indica hoping that the effects from the medicine would improve my condition and cause the pain to cease. It worked temporarily, until i became addicted. Who would’ve thought something so natural and herbal would cause irreversible damage to my self-esteem, my motivation, my dignity? I thought medicine was supposed to help sick people be better? All it did was make me numb. Maybe i mistook it for numbing cream then.. Or maybe being numb is better than feeling and thinking everything all at once? And to think, that i used to believe you couldnt become a magnet— experiencing two opposite lives at the same time within one body, *each force of gravity pulling you to the other direction everytime you try to keep your shit together. Is there even an alternative then? Can i just write all the words racing through my head? Nah, my hands aren’t fast enough to keep up with what feels like Usain bolting through my mind’s track. But maybe i could say it out loud then? Nah, my vocals have been put on indefinite mute. Silencing any type of self-expression and emotional calls of distress. Well, maybe silence isn’t such a bad thing then. To the outside and on the inside. Maybe becoming one with the shell instead of trying to tame the crab is best? If i embrace my hollow, empty insides instead of trying to fill in spaces with nothing but salty bitterness, i could finally get peace and quiet. Drowning out the static in my brain and the earthquake in my gut, the disorientation of my mind and the unsettling sensation that is my body, closing my soul’s eye and submitting to the feeling of nothingness, all things cease to exist in this spiritually induced comatose. I am everything and nothing all at once. its quiet up here, you would like it up here, no longer going through the unimaginable…