Administrator's blog

surely You are in this place.

via
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What a beautiful grey day today is. 
.

If I had one more chance to tell you
I would tell you that I love you
and I would tell you that I always will
I mourn the loss of my words
lost on some distant planet
that only exists
in my dreams
and it’s been so long
but just once
I would like to fall asleep
without feeling your strong arms
around my waist
and without feeling your soft breath
on my neck
please
 

When I look back on the past six years, I feel nothing but gratitude for all the precious gifts in my life.  My sobriety has taught me, little by little, to value each moment that passes me by and every person to walk in my life.  They leave their mark in the most unexpected and serendipitous of ways.  Sometimes when I am quiet and in moments of solitude, I can feel the residual wave of love washing over me.  In moments such as these, I realize that I have nothing to be sad about.  The things you’ve loved and lost, although they may be gone, they never really leave you.  You may walk through life with fearlessness because you know that you are never without love, and that you are never truly alone.  Just whisper my name in your heart, and I will be there.  I remain here in this way, forever and ever yours.  

With all my Heart,
Leanna

I've spent much time looking at myself through different eyes and imagining what they all could see.  I know it's something that I can't quite grasp and it must be something equal parts wonderful and terrifying too.  Maybe it's better that I don't know.  

Untitled by Marija Radosavljevic

Never let the future 
disturb you.  You will
meet it, if you have to,
with the same weapons
of reason which today
arm you against the present.

:

You are my soul's window.  My love is always before you.  

photomontage, acrylic, watercolor, & roses on canvas, 2014.  
;

una infinitas 
abominatio nascitur autumno 
hic est tuum temptamen quod temptat tua potentia 
viginti tres gradus ad summam potestatem

:::

/ˈsəbstəns/
noun: substance; plural noun: substances
the essential nature underlying phenomena, which is subject to changes and accidents.

It has been quite a long time since I have written anything of substance. 

Something has been telling me to write more.  I have avoided reminiscing directly about my life as of recent simply because I have been something of a wreck for the past few months.  I have been experiencing what is known as a ‘breakdown’ and have subsequently been rearranging my life and all of its pieces, old and new, current and past.  Regardless of the fact that although some of us are prophetic, when we try too much to manipulate or otherwise control the future, it has a habit of backfiring on us in the worst possible way.  It has occurred to me somewhere along the line that not every secret will be divulged in this life time, that some things are destined to remain a mystery, and that some things are better left in this way however frustrating it may feel to us now in our feeble little human suits.  That is the beauty of being human; the gift of strangeness.  I suppose then if I have learned anything at all in my long and short time here, the most beneficial thing to know how to do is to know when to say goodbye forever or for now, to know in our hearts when to move on, to know in our minds when to say yes.   To be unafraid of facing the loneliness, because it is within this loneliness that you will discover who you truly are.  Embrace it.  The being under the skin: the essential, absolute matter; however imperfect and volatile it may be in its metamorphic state.  It is you.  

So feel everything; experience it all, whatever may be willed your way.  The perfection and the revulsion, the beauty and the horror, the light and the dark.  Allow yourself to embrace everything, because it is all for a reason.  

;

The nights you fight best are
when all the weapons are pointed at you,
when all the voices hurl their insults
while the dream is being strangled.
The nights you fight best are
when reason gets kicked in the gut,
when the chariots of gloom encircle you.
The nights you fight best are
when the laughter of fools fills the air,
when the kiss of death is mistaken for love.
The nights you fight best are
when the game is fixed,
when the crowd screams for your blood.
The nights you fight best are
on a night like this
as you chase a thousand dark rats from your brain,
as you rise up against the impossible,
as you become a brother to the tender sister of joy
and move on
regardless.

The moon is hiding under her blankets tonight.
:

Little wolf skin boots,
and clove cigarettes.
An erotic funeral
for Witch she’s dressed.
Her perfume smells like burning leaves,
every day is Halloween. 

via
 

The concept of falling out of love with someone who once meant the world to you is one that never ceases to astound me.  Taking someone who was once everything to you and transforming them into nothing again seems like an impossible task, especially when you are in the midst of it.  It seems that we are either capable of loving someone in some way forever or never really loving them at all.  At which point is it that we decide that we’ve had enough and the relationship is just too painful?  When is it exactly do we begin to forget how much we once cared for someone?  The wounds that we leave in others as well as those that are left in us are sometimes too raw to risk falling back into them.  In this case, I suppose the mind tells us to go on, and it forces our hearts to follow suit.  Grief appears to be a faster and more thorough teacher than joy, and once you feel such intense and depthless feelings for someone, there will always be parts of them that linger and intertwine with the fibers of your being.  Memories are impressed on places you went and songs you listened to and things you said…  Those ghosts will remain, sometimes even long after they are gone from your life.  Once the emotion is experienced, I don’t believe that love should or can be replaceable, but I do hope that we force it to be that way for the sake of survival.  We all start as strangers, and we are drawn to souls that are made of the same stuff in which our own stars are comprised.  We are all simply waiting for another universe to collide with ours, to transform what we can’t ourselves; to fill us, to make us whole.  The collision can wreck us, change us, shift us; sometimes we become eternally connected and undetached and other times we decidedly move away because the adjustment required in accepting another’s universe in colliding with yours is a promise that we can’t possibly keep.  It is heartbreaking and intriguing all at once how after everything is said and done, after we feel the storm return to calm, our stars are always forever altered and we do not have control over which particular collisions hold the power to alter us.  
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"I have met you before.
We are old souls
and I am sure
we have enjoyed this company
in times paralleled,
and you are just as beautiful now
as you were then.”
.