Loving as an existentialist

There are never the right words to describe how beautifully I seem to feel things, deeply and passionately, dangerously. I am all in, for everything. And I fall, to the ground and I bruise myself a little, some scratches here and there … but I always get back up, and I always have an open heart. And how many people can say they never let someone change them for the worst? I’ve continued to trust, be vulnerable, exposed, to fall and repeat again. Because every wrong choice and every damaging experience only opens doors to new possibilities. Who knows where I’ll be to tomorrow or who I’ll meet or how I’ll feel it’s all so undecided. Who knows what I’ll do? I play the part of a resident of earth, another number to the population total, a space to occupy, but in my limited space of seemingly limited opportunity, it is mine to do away with, it is mine to feel and fall and explore every last part of it, and no matter what I do or where I go the world still turns, and the sun still sets, and the waves still crash. but maybe if we all stopped and walked backwards for a while we could slow down time for just a minute, and feel as if we’re apart of something bigger then ourselves. I will continue to be me, but sometimes it’s nice knowing if it really counts for anything.

 

-T.L.J

Lies

I was always taught that lies were terrible, “The truth will set you free” was a famous quote my mother loved to recite. Yet honesty has never felt like freedom to me, it is a birdcage holding me captive, the truth has become a sword through my spine. It’s painful. I lie to others and myself because it is what’s best for me. If I pretend that I’m confident, then maybe I’ll be able to look at myself in the mirror again, and stop having to wash my makeup and tear stained pillow cases. If I pretend to be happy, then maybe I might be someday. If I tell myself I don’t love you anymore, then maybe one day I really won’t. I’m sorry mother, but lying has become my liberation.

-t.l.j