Friday, July 18, 2008

New Feature: Diabolina Does Deep Thoughts

A little more opening up. Hope you'll indulge me. Struggling to feel balance at the moment in my life. Figured, at the very least, I'd balance the light airy fashion frou frou with some of my weightier musings in the blogging part of my life.

Here's some writing I did a few months ago. Some hard things I tried to approach. In four acts.

It's all about facing the darkness within. It's about facing the ugly and the pain to hopefully emerge beautiful and healed. It's about shining light onto dark psychic places.

Hope it speaks to some part of your experience.
And for those of you who emailed me about the last installment, thank you again. You are a beacon of light shining my way.

The Battles Waged Within

Today the quality of the light was beautiful.
The sky was breathtaking.
The sunshine haunting.

The rustling leaves and the barren streets -it all looked so
picturesque, like a snapshot from long ago, a moment captured in time
that will never be again.

Today, it felt like time stood still. It reminded me so much of that
day, that day so long ago, so full of promise and magic that ended in
tears and agony.

But today, today, i tried to focus on the light, how it bathed
everything, washed over everything with its haunting embrace. I tried
to ignore how ominous it felt, like something was lurking in the

I tried to ignore how I felt alone, so alone - desperately so.
How quiet and empty the world felt around me.
How loud the clip of my heels seemed. How deafening my breathing
and thoughts and prayers seemed in the stillness around me.

Today I cried for the first time in quite a while. Out of frustration
and anger. But mostly because I feel alone, unappreciated,
misunderstood, abandoned - all of them, all of my worst fears rolled
into one day.

I cried because I'm floating aimlessly,
bobbing in the abyss, biding time,
waiting for something to rescue me.

Waiting to wake from this monotonous dream,
waiting to do something with my life,
finally DO something,
anything but this, here, now.


I cried because it all added up today. It all added up to me feeling
foolish. Foolish for giving so much when others are content to just
take. Foolish for caring so much when others just look to get by.
Foolish for thinking I am special. Foolish for loving, foolish for
hating. So foolish. So many reasons.

Today was a battle between the light and my shadows.
I'm not sure which won out.
I'm not sure it matters.
I'm not sure it works that way.

In the end, it's all about the lessons not the victories
It's all just a moment in time anyway.

A flash of light that fades to black.


Crowns of Thorns We Wear

We do it to ourselves.
We cut our selves with imagined daggers
And draw real blood.
And bleed and wound ourselves at the core.

And for what?
For an illusion of our own creation.
We gasp for breath and almost drown in our own deluge of delusions.

As I look at her beautiful face
And see her blood spilling forth, breathtaking and burgundy,
I realize for the first time in my life I can't heal her.

I can't make it better, not really, not for more than a fleeting moment.
For the first time, I realize no matter how much I love her,
I will never be able to take the pain away.

Only she can do that.

And in this moment, I recognize that I've put away my own daggers.
They are now part of my past. I don't need them anymore.
I don't need the pain, don't crave the taste of it anymore.

Now as I move forward, I only want to bleed light.


Who She Is

She's just a child.
A little, little girl who is damaged.
Bruised and battered by life and love and destiny.

She has the look of a wild animal. Her eyes are terrified and terrifying.
She seems poised to attack if you get too close.
At times, she's taunting you, almost daring you to hurt her.
Daring you to make her show you how she can fight.
And wound. And destroy. And then survive you.

She sits in a depressing, barren room that's bathed in complete darkness.
It's stifling in that room. There are no windows, no escape.
It's always locked up tight.

Where she lives, it is always night. It is always cold. It is always lonely.

She is paralyzed. Crippled by fear. She lives in fear.

Actually, she lives inside the fear. It's her shelter.
She lives and breathes it. It feeds her.
It cradles her. It whispers to her in her dreams.

She's just afraid of so much.
Of being abandoned. Of being unwanted.
Of being a disappointment. Of not being enough.

She's afraid of what she might do to someone.
How she might hurt someone's heart.
Deeply. And where it hurts most.

She's afraid of not being in control. Of being weak.
She's afraid of being too emotional. Of being depressed. Of going mad.
She's afraid of making mistakes. Of not being perfect and pleasing and pretty.

She's afraid to be human. It's just not appropriate, not seemly.

She's afraid she's not worthy. Of so much.
Of love, success, magic. Of the promised land, of him, of her.

She's afraid that her creativity makes her dumb.
She's afraid that her pain makes her ugly.

Most of all, she's just afraid.
Afraid of living and feeling alive and making her dreams a reality.

She is the one locked inside in the darkness. This girl.
She is the one I am trying to let out into the light.


An Ode to My Shadow

My inner landscape looks something like a starry night sky.

At times, it is as dark and rich as the ink on a page,
Mysterious and ominous at its shadowy core.

It is like a dense wood that I cannot escape, that I can become lost in,
that traps and stifles me with its dark, hypnotic embrace.

And yet it can also be luminous - blindingly, stunningly luminous.
It can twinkle and shimmer with a brilliant radiance.

It can be bathed in a deliciously, otherworldly glow
That so clearly reflects the beauty and love that I feel, that I am, that I want to be.

My inner landscape looks something like a starry night sky.
It is a beautiful endless inky night sky dotted with heavenly sparkle.


weezermonkey said...

Scary good stuff.

I can't write like this.

MissJordyPants said...

you are beyond stunning.

tam pham said...

beautiful words/thoughts. what a gift you have!

amber said...

that is some really great stuff D. keep doing this feature. i really enjoy it.

WendyB said...

I'm sorry, but I am way too shallow for deep thoughts.

Sable Crow said...

My favorite flower is the peony.

They are ugly beasties in the beginning, the tough sons of a woody shrub--all stalk and a hard, golf ball-sized dark lump. But given a little light and a little time, those hard flowers unfurl into fragrant magnificence-- shameless hussies of floral decadence. They humble the stodgy rose and lay low the gaunt orchid.

You are such a flower, my dear. To watch you unfold is to watch the sun rise on a stormy sea. It is to watch the peony come into its own.


dapotato said...

beautiful. thanks for being brave and sharing.

Lynn Tran said...

Big hugs, D. I love that you share such an intimate part of yourself in these features. It's so raw and beautiful.

Christina said...

Great new features...shows you creativity!

Tiffany said...

you got mad writing skillz! =)

go get your book deal... and then let me know. I will be the first in line to buy it!

Sable Crow said...

I haven't read this since my original comment back in July. But something you said recently made me seek it out.

To find answers, I think.

I don't think I found them. Instead, I found a glimmer of understanding, which is not the same thing, but which is richer.

It's unlikely anyone will read this comment. It's so far in the past. And yet, the daggers are so present. The inability to love and be filled with light--the overwhelming shadows--are so present. The cutting is so present. I want to stop, D.

I'm so trained, so adept at self-affliction, that I'm not sure how to stop. F to me.

"Just breathe, Sable Crow," I can hear you saying. "Just put the daggers down, keep walking, smile a little, and whatever you do, don't look back."

I can also see your eyes rolling and your chin tilting up, exasperated as you read this. Still doing it... Even writing this is playing with the daggers.

Put them down, Sable Crow.

Such a long journey. Did you know it 13 years ago? Could you see? I like to think you could. Thank you for loving me anyway.

Ex umbris.
From shadow.

If I ever got a tattoo, that would do it...


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