Yesterday I cried. Again.
The anger was bubbling up in me.
After a day well spent painting on the tote bags, where I found my inner peace again…
I started feeling like I still can’t.
Can’t just be me and show what’s inside of me and be loved.
And it feels stupid writing this again.
I feel like I am repeating myself over and over again.
Fighting with voices in my head, that say who cares what’s inside of you.
Get a real job. Act responsible. Grow up already. Who do you think you are, thinking that you could be a writer, thinking that you could be artist, philosopher, thinking that you could just be you and have a place in the world?
And it’s all I ever wanted. For all of us. For the whole world. I have this core belief, that if we could all just do what we love, that the world would work perfectly. Because we all have such diverse interests. It surprise me again and again in a positive way, that somebody likes things and want to do things and is interested in things that I don’t give a single fuck about. And I want them to do that thing! It’s one of my favourite things, when I see people light up when they talk about what they really want to do. I enjoy their joy like it’s mine, even if they talk about something that I don’t dream of doing.
And this now makes me feel alive. Putting those words on the screen. I like how that text editor font in wordpress reminds me of typewriter font.
I felt alive yesterday when I was painting with black ink whatever came out of me and even though I thought I’m gonna mess it all up, I saw the beauty in that mess once I put it on the canvas.
It was like another thing I just love. I have this special ability that people tell me things that they feel ashamed about, little secrets that they don’t tell nobody else. And I just love how I see beauty in their mess. How much peace I feel. How much love I feel for them. I feel like “Darling, don’t you see that you are too hard on yourself? This little mistake you made is nothing, it doesn’t make you any less beautiful, it doesn’t make you any less lovable, it doesn’t make you any less worthy of my friendship. It doesn’t make you any less worthy of the all of the love there is in the world.”
Sometimes I laugh at people telling me their problems. Like really laugh. From my heart and my belly. I see the stories they are telling me like I am watching a movie. And through that laugh I laugh at myself and my dramas just as much. And I see it all as beautiful at those moments.
Human life. Whole human beings.
With whole specter from depths of despair to to that enlightened state when you see everything as perfect and as love.
Ahhhh. I feel so good already.
But back to screaming and crying.
I would probably forgot about it, if it wouldn’t be for my boyfriend.
Who has a stable job now, a thing that everybody around him wanted for him… yet he was moody in the morning.
“Yes, I go to work, I bring the money, yet I hate it. Every morning.”
I see his soul screaming.
As I felt yesterday in the evening my soul screaming, my inner child raging from the inside, screaming at me to fucking let it out already!!!
Do what you want already!!
And even though I am kinda doing what I want, there’s that mind full of chatter, full of rules, full of voices of the people from my past and present, who taught me how I should live.
And I had this probably one hour long silent scream yesterday. With tears streaming down my face. I screamed and and I was tapping myself (EFT) and I cried.
It came to the point, when I wasn’t crying just for myself anymore… I was crying for everybody. For whole history of women. For all the children. For all the men. For the Mother Nature. I was crying for all of us wild beings, who were put into a fucking mold of religious rights and wrongs.
I was crying for all the victims of the Christian religion. I was crying for myself that I’ve been baptized in this shit without my permission.
I was crying for everybody who has been told that there is something wrong with them at their core and that they need to do something they don’t want to be saved.
Ahhhh.
Okay, that’s it for now. I will probably continue writing on this topic.
Now enjoy my hand painted tote bags. And send me a message, if you want one for yourself.
Love, Anita
With Love,
