light | Loneliness Isn't Real

Human and spiritual standpoints

Posted on August 13, 2015 by The One-Eyed Angel

Good morning to my spiritual fallen angels! How are you? So let’s begin, shall we? One of my earliest posts, it’s easy being evil, I state that it’s easier to be evil than it is to be good just like it’s easier to make a mess than it is to clean it up. At a human standpoint, I can love and hate whomever I want. However, I find it effortless to hold grudges or gossip and although it may be easy, it’s also not beneficial to my unique place in this world. As an empath, I must learn more about how to differentiate others’ emotions from my own. Are these feelings of vengeance and paranoia my own? There is so much evil in the world so it could just be that these impure thoughts stem from others yet I’m still accountable for them. Within my meditation sessions, I must constantly remind myself that the past no longer exists and the future has yet to exist. Either way, right now is all that really matters. Then I remind myself to get off my train of thought and acknowledge time and space. For example, I’m on the city bus and it’s August 13th, 2015. I go into more detail but I don’t want to disclose too much about my whereabouts. After that, I recall the three spiritual laws that draw the line between hope and fear. I could explain the three spiritual laws but I have stated them already in numerous of my previous posts. But if you still want me to tell you, please ask in the comments section below. Anyway, I tell myself that we are all human and we all have our own internal struggles. We just handle conflict, rejection, and disappointment differently. We all sin differently. We are all inevitably subjected to experience all the trials and tribulations that consist throughout the human experience stated in various religious texts. We are fallen angels subconsciously enforcing our soul contracts and are tributes withdrawn from the golden gates to enact our human lives. Afterwards, I silently sit outside to soak in the presence of those around me as well as the birds chirping and the sunlight glaring down on me. This allows me to ease my way to the spirit realm. Finally, once I’m there, I ground, center, and shield to expel all negativity, align my chakras, and protect myself from negative intrusion. I do this, along with yoga, at least once a day. I have to. My emotions are too powerful and dangerous if left uncontrolled. Like Raven from Teen Titans, reinforcing my emotions hours a day is essential for keeping the darkness at bay. I can only imagine the full extent of my wrath but I know it’s imperative to never give in to evil or give up on the concept of love no matter how easy it would be to release the bind or to become apathetic. If I cease to be capable of love, I will never be able to come back out. I must love and respect everyone and everything in our existence because that’s what heroes do. So let’s support each other no matter what. The best thing to say to someone is that they are not alone. Depression, abuse, neglect, heartbreak, starvation, betrayal, hopelessness, and so much more… we have all experienced these things one way or another. Don’t deny it anymore. Don’t bury your feelings. Don’t let anyone tell you to give up on your dreams for them as if it’s some black and white ultimatum that will label you good or bad. You are beautiful. Your vulnerabilities and your undisclosed desires are the things that makes you stand out. Have a wonderful day and good luck on your personal endeavors! Over and out.

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Notes scribbled in haste

Posted on July 30, 2015 by The One-Eyed Angel

All my clothes were folded and already in my dresser,
All the food I needed was already in the fridge,
All the elements that made up nature I was sheltered from,
A note scribbled in haste said:
“Leftover lasagna is in the oven,
Just heat it up 400 degrees for ten minutes.
Love, Mom ♡”
I smiled with delight as I jolted to the empty kitchen,
The next day I awoke to another note taped onto the inside of my bedroom door:
“Sorry but I had to visit your grandpa at the hospital. Leftover pasta is on the stove.
Love, Mom”
So I shrug my shoulders without a care in the world and devoured the whole pot of spaghetti,
One day I came home from school with a love note in my hand,
“I really care about you and I want you to meet me at the creek at dusk.
XOXO Joshua”
I left the note on my nightstand before preparing a picnic basket full of greasy food,
We shared a romantic evening alone together near the cemetery,
I came back home late that night,
To my mother sitting on the couch under the gloom of the lamp’s light,
I walked up to her completely ambivalent,
She didn’t utter a word until she held out the love note from Joshua,
“First my father dies now my son is dead to me,”
This blow to my heart was worse than a gay bashing,
I cried myself to sleep until sunlight spilled on my skin once more,
A note was left beside my pillow and I hoped last night was just a nightmare,
“Pack everything you need and get out because you can’t live here anymore,”
The tears resumed to stain my face in clear, salty truth,
I filled my backpack with all my antidepressants, birth certificate, social security card, but there was no room for food,
Ten dollars was all there was to my name before I pigged out at a Burger King,
Homeless and poor at a moment’s notice,
I decided to admit myself to the hospital claiming I was suicidal,
I wasn’t lying,
The psych ward was a new experience and I stayed in my room for four days straight,
A letter was given to me on the fifth day:
“Everyone at school thinks you’re crazy. We all heard that you’re at the loony bin. Lose my number, you freak.
Sincerely, Joshua”
He must have really researched this psych ward eager to break my heart,
Somehow I mustered the courage to join the other patients in the day room,
They glanced up at me from what they were doing and saw I was nothing special,
I overheard elaborate ways to hurt oneself new ideas to bring my pain to the physical world,
Cutting or eraser burns or overdosing,
I pretended I was healed from a permanent mental illness,
The staff discharged me to live with my grandma for she was lonely too,
I moved in but it wasn’t too hard for I didn’t have much,
My grandmother didn’t speak a lick of English,
And Spanish wasn’t my strong suit either,
My first night was silence,
There were no clothes folded in my mother’s childhood dresser,
There was no food in the fridge I could eat just meals on wheels,
The windows were broken off its hinges so the snow got in,
My grandma wrote a note on my makeshift door the following morning:
” Usted puede sentirse desesperada ahora, pero todo es posible . Entre el mal , el miedo , la soledad , el hambre, y toda la oscuridad era la esperanza. Un pequeño faro de luz que dejar de lado todo lo hecho y dejado de hacer . Te amo con todo mi corazón.”
I couldn’t even begin to understand what these words meant,
It didn’t matter nothing mattered anymore,
I poured all the antidepressant medications on my twin sized bed and grabbed handful after handful into my mouth,
I imagined that I would just fall asleep and never wake up again,
So I wrote a note for the first time and laid it beside my potential cadaver:
“The life of an intellectual is a lonely one. My soul contract has been revoked.”
I have died so many times,
Yet I’m still alive.

Grandma’s translation:
You may feel hopeless now , but anything is possible . Between evil , fear , loneliness , hunger, and all the darkness was hope. A small beacon of light to let go of everything done and left undone. I love you with all my heart.

Loneliness and guilty pleasures

Posted on July 10, 2015 by The One-Eyed Angel

Brimstone and shadow shrouds my soul,
Makes me unapproachable,
Suffocating the light within,
With selfish acts of sin,
I know that it’s wrong to comply,
With the darkness deep inside,
The faithless and spiritually blind,
Cannot see nor fathom my kind,
Fallen angels guarding what consumes us,
Memories resonate of an incubus,
Fear and intrigue morphed into love,
Red flags ignored warnings from above,
Events occur way beyond my maturity level,
Inevitable death fabricated damsel,
Screaming out distorted love songs,
Sirens casting out lectures amongst,
The loneliness can replace the devil beneath the sheets,
Guilty pleasures in the form of love stains meets,
Underneath a canopy of infatuation,
Submerged further into oblivious condemnation,
Rock bottom is my summer resort,
Acrobatics convey with their bodies contort,
Lethargy and hopelessness is a comfortable satire,
To wear to the ball before clock strikes midnight’s dire,
Unveiling of the truth behind the mask,
Questions I was too afraid to ask,
Answers that can kill me instantly,
Better to live loved faintly,
Lies and bittersweet fellatios,
And meaningless exchanges of promises forms ratios,
Truth slays my heart forever more,
Need time to self-reflect escape the masquerade ball,
Seek salvation as I delve into the mystery,
My closed mind opened so I brace myself to feel life’s agony,
Holy retribution and holy water divine,
Baptism isn’t a cure-all nor is it a drawn line,
The bible shouldn’t be a bibliographical anomaly for zealots,
Eucharist is the coming of saints acknowledging their imperfections, Prayer is to submit and admit I’m nothing but a dot,
In life’s perpetual and everlasting discretion,
I’ll admit that i know nothing compared to what I could know,
If I knew life’s secrets I would lose my mind,
To live contempt and in the moment I’ll show,
God that I am worthy of being risen and not left behind