Trash your mind. Empty the recycle bin. To allow the stronghold of the past to dictate your future is an emotional sin…but is it really? Is it though? Is my heart truly made of malleable bullet-proof dough? Dough that can be bent, pummelled, but not broke-by a daddy-type bloke? He did all that stuff, he caused all that trauma. Check out the scene witnessed from my bungalow dorma. It’s ugly and brutal, cripplingly unsuitable. Unsuitable for a little girl such as I. Summer spies with my little eye, something beginning with “D”… dye?
Dye, of the dylon variety?..noooo, that’s not what I meant.
I meant die with an e, end of life, finito, I surrender cause I’m spent. Depressive rambling of a mum of two tangling. Tangled feelings, words and emotion. “Sshh little one you’ll make a commotion”. Just empty it all, empty it out. Quit the resistance and embrace the truth. “GIVE UP,” I shout. Going under, choking on water, breathing laboured, dead already three quarter. Three quarters of a person, panicking I’m already dead. It doesn’t have to be this way Summer, this crisis has sprung up from your head. You created this by the thoughts that you think. You want your life to be one long carefree picnic. You don’t want to suffer any more. Is this your fault? You question yourself more. Tangled tangled, CHANGE THE ANGLE/CHANGE THE THOUGHT. You’re not shining enough. You’re feeling rough. Life is relentlessly raw and tough. You hurt more than anyone understands, you want a good samaritan to stop and hold your hand. You can’t be strong today, and possibly not even tomorrow. Right now you’re outpouring sadness and sorrow. You want to cry but you feel far too tense. Stub your toe then maybe you’ll be able to cry under pretence. She’s only crying people because she stubbed her toe. There’s nothing to see. Pat her back and just let her be. “There there” you say, it’ll be okay. But what if it won’t? What if this emotional shit is here to stay?
I’m really sorry that today I can’t write inspiring, showing inner strength the type you’d be admiring. Summer’s lost it for now, but I’ll soon find it again. Just gotta empty the recycle bin, close my eyes, b r e a t h e, and count slowly to ten.