I had to make peace with the past; I had to feel it all over again. Or, maybe rather I chose to feel it; again. I began to digest and to process what had happened to me as a child, as a teen, as an adult — as birth as a vehicle.
Am I better?
Do you mean less symptomatic?
Yes and no.
Do I have other outlets?
Yes.
Do I believe in cure?
We all fucking die.
[and I don’t wish to be a nihilist…]
I have my own inner knowing or — UPG, unverified personal gnosis, or belief system. And I chose to be a deist, I have this inner urge to believe in a higher evolved higher demensional self outside of space and time that also lives inside me. Well, all of us. Or so I think. And who’s to say we don’t just end up in the ground anyways.
What I don’t believe in is an eternal burning hell. That is spiritual abuse, and foolish.
I once heard it said that fools look to exploit others while the wise look to transform themselves.
I feel as if I have been saved from a hellish mindset of fundamentalism at one point of time in my life. And perhaps that’s the point of the symbolism erected perhaps by yeshua, Dante especially — men specifically. If sin is missing the mark then what is my aim?
What is my aim?
To live to see the end like in my imaginings, as an old woman eating cookies and milk.
Those phrases comforted us, didn’t they? When we used to speak about milk and cookies and growing old. It was a subtle way to check for an end point, to know if they could go on arms someday soon.
I had to make peace with the past; I had to go back — because, I wanted too. And to write.
How will my art look like in the future on this page? I want to write a lot more poetry and speak in that way. I think that has helped me a ton to be able to get a long abstract message across in the most concise method possible.
[AI self portrait]
[AI self portrait 2]
I am happy, I swear.
Actually, I am happy, sad, angry, hurt, excited, joyful, amazed, frustrated, wounded, worried, anxious, scared, gloomy, content, hopeful and powerful. I have been able to feel again, fully and whole heartedly emote.
God speed.
I see my future as an artist to hide my story a bit more in fiction. I can’t help accept to bleed here and there, I just don’t want to make it as bloody as I have been.
Also, the self portraits that I’ve been documenting on this page — that seems distorted to me too. I almost desire polish, to see myself in this glory of flowers amid my hair.
Because, sometimes it feels the image of me has become artificial.
Have I been foolish?
Have I been born?
When I look into the future,
I see authentic, not artificial
I N T E L L I G E N C E.
