March 5th 2021

 I have been so afraid of showing anyone everything that I am. I don't like losing people. I am afraid that they'll be overwhelmed and hide to protect themselves from exhaustion. I am afraid that they'll believe I am wrong, and not be able accept that there may very well be two rights. I am afraid they will shove their gods and beliefs in my face, until I run into the forest of silence out of desperation. I am afraid they will drown me in their "disappointment" of me, of me not being the perfect specimen of a human girl that they wanted. Of me not even feeling half human. Of me refusing to ever fit in their boxes, if I tire of them. Of me accepting my intense, ever-changing, broken, beautiful self, refusing the abide by the shame they tried to instill in me from birth. 

A month ago, I wrote: "I am so ready to say 'fuck it' and throw out there everything I've ever been afraid of being judged for, of being seen differently for. I'm so close, but not yet."

Here I am, I'm saying "fuck it". Been slowly saying so over the month, and I commit to continuing.

I am the kind of person who jumps into lava, screaming "lavaaaa", when there is a bridge to cross a few feet away, then laughs when fae dies. I am the sort of person who if fae could, would every night before bed, run at top speed outside, then scream for a minute or so. The kind of person who would wake each morning and crow, as though fae were a rooster. The kind of person who dreams of slitting the throats of capitalists thieves, and laughing in their dead faces. I am the kind of person who hates with an intensity unmatched by a hurricane, loves with the gentleness of a late afternoon golden hour whisper of a breeze, kissing you while the singing sun makes your skin glow.

I want to find the beauty in everything, to feel the painful beauty in heartbreak, the reminder of how deeply you loved. The discorded beauty in the humanity of a petty fight. I want to fully relish every december day's four-o-clock light, dancing through the steam from a cup of tea, making you look differently at the curve of crown moulding. I want to cry in pure awe at every sunset that sets the sky of fire, making you dream of freely flying to dip your hands in the purest glowing satin. I want to see every plant that grows through cracks in brick, and smile. I want to fully immerse myself in every extreme emotion, to try to be fully human. 

I believe in other dimensions, realities, timelines. I believe I have visited them in my dreams, travelled places outside of the limitations of a clumsy human body. They are strange, terrifying, beautiful, but overall, they are all drenched in insane amounts of emotion. Or maybe that's just life outside of a body.

I want to fix all injustices, to tear down goverments, to perpetuate chaos and destruction. I want to plant seeds in the char-enriched soil, to dance in the april rains, as they reach up to taste the sweetness of sunlight for the first time on the morrow. I want to heal people, fix all their hurts, then punish any who intentionally hurt them with the strongest of curses. I want to feel the pain caused by pure beauty. To cradle the beauty caused by pure pain. I want to LIVE, to live as deeply, fully, and strongly as possible.

I am afraid that people will run though, that I will be too intense, too much, to be more in every way than was their initial thought of who I am, and what I need. I am afraid to be completely alone, as much as I am to feel completely suffocated by humans. 

I don't understand them, humans. They ignore so much beauty, and caught in grey mists that wrap around them, they forget even the beauty in the mirror that they catch a glimpse in every day. They don't let the tears run at the sounds of the forest, or the scents of a summer evening. They fear telling other humans of their love. They shame each other for love, say things like there's a limit of time before you can tell someone you love them. 

Almost as though they believe all love is the same, that it is a stagnant thing, not ever growing, deepening, ebbing, shrinking, following different routes. I love the security guard at aldis, who always asks me about my groceries that day, holds my backpack, tells me to get home safe. I love my mother, who taught me so much, neglected so much else, wrapped me in her arms when I dealt with my pets dying, told me secrets about life and love, and always did what she thought was the best thing to do. I love the faithful sunlight, bringing about so much beauty and life, dancing across the earth, breaking through human's sadnesses. I love each thing that brings me the smallest amount of joy, and I love saying so. 

Humans live in prisons created by their brains, and the societies they've created or inherited. Prisons that break and destroy them, that allow other humans to exploit and kill them freely, and to profit off of it. I wish I could free them all. From their brain prisons, from those who are exploiting them, from their stupid societies. Then maybe I could be free too. But humans want to stay in their prisons, because they are the known, and the known is more comfortable than the unknown. They will fight and kill to stay in their prisons, create idiotic logics, lie to themselves and each other, all because they are so afraid of the unknown. 

I look at the gentle moonlight falling across a broken window, a memoir of a life once held within a now abandoned house, and I wonder. 

Do humans see this? Are they all so caught up in their lives they forgot to look? If they did see it, why do they not all attempt to show it to everyone, to share it, so others may experience the euphoria gained from gazing on such a polarized beauty? Do they not see the silky purple centers in the thistles they work so hard to evict? Do they not relish the dances of the insects around the aubergine puffs? Do they never laugh at their own absurdities, twirl till they fall from sheer joy, follow the neverending dances of sunlight and moonlight?

Do they all have to also experience pain on a level you can hardly breath; depression so dark you wonder if you will ever find the moonbeams again; heartbreak that tries to kill? Can you have one without the other? If they go hand in hand, I would still have it no other way. To experience such beauty is worth whatever pain it costs. And to experience such pain is to mean that I'm alive and I reside in an imperfect human body. I want to swim to furthest reaches of emotion, and weave them all together in a most beautiful dance. 

The first time I heard live music I cried. I had never dreamed that music felt so strong through the floor, of the levels of emotion that swirled in the air. I had no idea, no knowledge, of how to ride it, how to feel it. I crawled under chairs so no one would ask me what was wrong, wept, and loved the beauty with all of my heart. It still makes me cry at times, but now, while crying, I dance. Follow it, it's lead, listen to it, find out how my body can twist and move, see what emotions and stories whisper themselves to me.