Heritage Day

Today is my last day

 

I manage to crawl off the bed that ceased to be coupled almost a decade ago

then land in my still relatively tiny bathroom, though my own physique seems to be shrinking by the second now

I look up at my reflection and I realise the purpose of mirrors

There is a headline,

my face

wrinkled and grey beneath its letters seems to unfold like an over ripe flower without ever having been touched

it says;

Heritage Day

I shuffle along until I trip over the now almost dry white board marker and I begin the list:

One: I inherited the dark lines of deceit off my mother’s core

Two: I learned how to live with being a liar

Three: I came as a foreign being full of love

Four: I was denied love but I’m still leaving filled with only those four letters

Five: Life was beautiful though the darkness is always the beginning of a new story

Six: I inherited the art

Seven: I will never forget

 

I rinse myself off and decide that it would be better to leave full of hope

After all

3 months before they expected me I was ready

13 years before I was

they weren’t

my family

 

The wardrobe whispered the call of majesty

I obeyed my longing eyes

past the dioors and my goodbye suit

I found the two letter phrase barely in disguise and I remembered why

Heritage day:

One: I learned how to judge myself better than anyone had ever judged me

Two: It wasn’t always sunny

Three: How to fake the smile through heartache

Four: How to cause the same

Five: My clothes are cheap

Six: I am unworthychocolat_l

Seven: I knew this each time we made eye contact… after all; we are self proclaimed judges

 

So neat, tidy and fresh I walk towards the lonely seat and the non functional tv

and on the top right hand corner of the screen

A phrase in white paint screams out at me

Heritage Day:

One: My skin colour murdered my first love

Two: I inherited the skill of not caring much for those attributes

Three: My father Died of a broken heart

Four: You saved mine

Five: Our life was puzzled together by vibes and muted sentences

Six: In the end, my quirks were irrelevant and your were my indica

Seven: I fell eternally asleep with the very thoughts that days and nights before had always haunted me.

 

Palm on palm now

My eye lids find their space

No tears left in me

My heritage day is eternal

and I only grew to know that the moment I looked into you!

 

 

 

 

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Admit it; I Lost you

I did it again…
I was super excited about a concept and just quit half way, but you noticed of course. You smiled after the second week of no posts and you thought to yourself, “I knew this wouldn’t last long with her!”

You are sorely mistaken :friend. I have been feeding my passion instead of letting it dwindle and die. I have taken what I wanted and lived to tell the story : I  am still here.

1 School and 300 kids later.

The running happens a little less due to more work and the drinking is a little more due to the bar set up; but I’m very much alive and burning.

This is the last stretch;  silence is necessary so that I don’t lose track. Silence to the world But constant music for my soul. Breathing happens more easily and living is fluid. However the writing is forced and I don’t like that at all; it is forced writing after all that makes a truly dead author, poet or artist of any kind.

What’s art without movement or passion? There’s no art in that – it’s more like a copy and paste from a global media on to a blank canvas soul. Should we not observe in appreciation the artwork after chiselling it out so definitively for so long?

Should we not long to lay unobstructed by surface worries with our fingers interlaced barely being able to help but swallow hard. How our hearts will beat in each other’s ears with an eternal echoe; an imprint of your heart on mine!
Yes, yours!
With a wallpaper of your unseen body pasted on my dreams.

This is how we begin to understand what it is exactly that we are… or rather how excruciatingly significant we are to the entire system.

How our physical image is the vessel through which true spirit becomes functional. The physical manifestation of what language defines as magic.

Unpredictable, determined, water on two feet, spirit within a mass containing entity.

This post is more of a side note to let you know that it takes more than writing something down to be phenomenal enough to make it happen. So I  have decided to do it. To trust that no matter what ; we will be ok.

Black Eyed Wolf

Today is Bornforcopper’s 3rd Birthday.

It sincerely does not feel like I have been writing as much the past while and it clearly shows in my stats. I must thank all of my readers though, for their consistency in reading my posts. A constant of about 1 000 views/year is a pleasant surprise, although I would really like to know which of you truly feel like a part of this chaotic blog.

Initially I was going to research the rarity of a black eyed wolf; in fact – according to net stats; no such wolves exist (except for werewolves of course). The last while I have been fortunate enough to learn so much from so many different sources… Nimue Brown and her Druid Life blog should probably take most of the credit, and of course Moon Books for their wonderful choice of Books and the opportunity to read and review treasures still to be discovered by the rest of the world: It feels truly amazing to be able to work within this community of relative connection and understanding. To Penton SA and Damon’s hard work – I take my beanie off to you since I do not own a hat.

The point is that while working through the rubbish to find the real stuff, I have begun to really understand what wolves must feel like while hunting. I feel like a spiritual hunter for truth; (here I would have said that nonsense reeks and that anyone would be able to deny it, but unfortunately closed-minded ignorance is very much a part of this seemingly beautiful world.)

Working with people and their goals as of late, I have begun to realize that it really should be a temporary thing trying to improve the state of Homo Sapiens as it is almost as impossible as finding a black eyed wolf…

Yet here I am; with eyes darker than what most people are accustomed to – humans are majorly subject to change character according to their surroundings and circumstances (sorry fellow Geminians ; we are not the only ones with that magical ability)… therefore I believe in the inherently good nature of humans. As long as one is willing to strip themselves down to the core and begin to find out where they are rooted; as long as one is willing to accept responsibility and not be disheartened by the truth: I believe that true evolution need not be just a dream.

I therefore have created a group which will aim to focus on all the good things and also the areas in which we could all improve! I urge all my followers and readers to visit www.facebook.com/blackeyedwolves and get involved with little bits in whichever areas interest them. Remember this is to try strip down the bad stuff and focus on the good stuff.

Thank you again for supporting me for the last 3 years and I am looking forward to 3 more.

All my love

Canis-Lupuswolf-alamy