I´ve been writing poetry for almost three years now. I´ve filled over 16 notebooks. If there´s a theme it´s this:
“begging god for mercy to die”
I´m joking, I don´t know. I didn´t actually take the time to read them all. Could definitely be though.
But my wrists are ‘tingling’. Is this the right word? They burn in a weird way. Make me want to slit them up. Am I insane? I´d actually prefer to slit my wrists now. But I go on with this feeling. Uneasy. Why´s it like that? Can´t writing be fun?
I feel like I want to… what? Lie in my bed and feel this weird drive to kill myself. When will this feeling go away. Can someone please come and shoot me? I´m annoyed by myself. One of my best friends ex boyfriend died the other day and I messed up with the aftercare. I´m guilty. I should be ashamed.
And my fucking wrists. I´m getting angry. Angry at what? Me. Not living up to my expectations. I keep on telling myself stories about life. I know what I have to do, but all I do is sit around and do shit. I should be on stage like Jordan Peterson or some badass rapper.
But no. I´m too afraid of fucking up. Buying into this stupid idea of me having a speaking disorder. It´s called “Poltern” in german. “Cluttering” in english. It annoys me. It´s been with me since I can remember. People often misunderstand me. I tend to swallow some vocals when talking with passion, getting faster and faster. At least it used to be like this. Now, I´m more in control. […]
(I was on acid writing up till now. From here on it´s written after the event.)
I went on and began to beat into the keyboard with rage for a while. Writing about my current situation and dreams. I switched to german and after a while noticed some kind of ‘light’. I was afraid of it and I stopped writing with this sense of ‘knowing’. The '‘light’ went away. I put the fear away again and went on. Suddenly the light was there again. At the end of my cursor. I wrote:
“god is this you? I was lighted to the divine.”
I knew it was. It is. I let it write, move the metaphorical quill. After a while ‘it’ told me (by instinct) to switch to pen and paper. I wrote on for two pages. Until my pen began to make circles. Then my body did the same. Moving counterclockwise around the pen on the paper. I put away the pen and continued to circle. It wanted me to go upstairs. So I did. Walking upstairs (while doing counterclockwise circles) where my brother is packing his stuff now. He´s moving out. He asked me:
“what are you doing?”
*I don´t know, it´s like god is moving me”
I answered and continued to go into the living room to have space. I knew I needed it.
Let ‘It’ Heal You
I began to spin faster and faster around some invisible middle point. My body began to lean backwards more and more. I knew I will fall over but I didn´t care. I knew this is healing. Then I fell over. And my body began to move on the ground like I´m having a seizure. Still doing these counterclockwise circles.
After a while I purged a lil bit, puking on the wood-tiles. My brother told me to go to the toilet and purge there. I forced myself to go to there. But it kind of stopped this ‘energy’ to move me. Not enough space. So I went out again. After five steps I noticed I have to puke again. I tried to go back with the ‘force’ moving me.
Three circles later I puked a lot. Right before the bathroom. I began to step around in my own vomit. My brother told me to go into the shower so I did. I purged a bit more in there. Until I noticed that I´m ‘empty’. I washed myself and left the shower. My brother already cleaned up the mess I made. I thanked him and went back into the living room. I lay down on the floor. It was exhausting. I just lay there: “What happened?”
Controlling the Soul
This wasn´t the first time this happened to me. I had these types of experiences many times already. Feeling like some ‘entity’ moves me. Letting it move me, as you have to stop controlling ‘your own’ body. It´s not actually ‘my body’ I guess. After all I´m the renter not the creator, right?
There´s this ‘eros energy’ / life force / soul in everyone - including you. It wants to move you in a specific way - probably not the way you want to. Letting it move you heals you. But most of the time you don´t let it. You are in control for most of the day.
The Aftermath
I really feel clean now. Almost as if I just puked out the landfill site inside of me. My voice is also better. And I have this urge to always look up to the sky when I´m outside.
It´s always there I guess. This ‘energy’ to guide me. Or let´s call it ‘god’, as it definitely feels like some kind of entity. It has direction, it has will and it loves you. Even if the way this love manifests isn´t always ‘fun’.
I enjoy being moved by “it” as well when I have the courage… takes a lot of surrender and devotion to do that. Kudos to you for living it and writing about it