Inside, Freedom (by K.Q.C.)

by darkjade68

My Friend is going through a very difficult time right now… And it’s tearing me apart. How is it that the most Amazing People seem to just get slammed sometimes in this life. But I know, that in fact, any of of us at any given moment can be absolutely blindsided in life. That’s a fact.

She just Wrote this very special/inspiring Piece, and with her permission, she’s allowing me to share it with all of you.

Any Feedback, or Thoughts in regard to it, are thoroughly appreciated.

DJ-

===============================================================

Inside, Freedom

by

K. Q. C.

I don’t think that you quite understand the little mosquitoes that bite the inside of my lids to produce a horrific vision of inconsistency and normalcy of the best and worst of my insides. I think that you both understand the depth that the inside of a person can be, the inside that is thrown up to be expressed on the floor in a multitude of colors. I am not sure if I am the same person anymore or if I am a deeper more intrinsic person who has lost a sense of self. I think that I am beginning to feel an ounce of fulfillment again after all of it was ripped to the core of my elbows scratching on the floor, and that it all seems the energy has been depleted from my fingertips and that all my bones are sore of the structure of the lips that sound so desperate as they cry for some release and they issue a warning sign to be signaled if the back of my brain produces the wrong kind of emotion in a bigger sense of being fine or being issued in a little bit more than a police officer looking for a little kid who has been ripped to shreds. I think that my brain is a tidal wave and it is moving with such efficiency that all of the sadness comes out of me like something bigger than myself. Arbitrary is what they can all me as I lie wide awake dreaming of simpler things. My dreams. I am not sure why I always have to listen to breathing. I am just trying to feel something like the beginning of something. I am not sure what my emotions are doing to me anymore. I am going through so much yet it seems that the farther the stairs that crumble as I step on the fall into madness and blackness, my mind lifts like a siren ready for the attack. I am not sure if any of this makes sense, it feels like there is a sheen over my eyes that cascades darkly like old blood ready to be given to the next hospital patient from a lucky fellow who happens to have fallen on his knee. I think that I want to be I need to be I need to be over this feeling I need to be surrendered in a way that I choose and a way that makes sense. I am so fearful of making a foolish end and meaning to all of this nonsense in my life. I am too strong for I pick to many stones up to break and shatter like mirrors and like skeletons in an anatomy class. You all know what you are doing, I am so annoyed by this constant issue. I am so constant in my hurtful feelings toward everyone. I am so damn tired of this contributing features that seem to wash my skin off of myself until I am nothing but a remaining soul that seems so haunted as my frowning face moans like an eagle searching for its prey. I think that this will benefit me in a weird twisted way to where my eyelids will see inside a world of mismatched horror and eternal strength. I think it will all be a forever lion, a forever fierce and terrifying place that was supposed to be a remnant of something happy but all there is is a depth of impossible currency. I am so drastically forced within a shelter that I do not want. A freedom writer to be crammed into a piece of paper, I am not sure how hermits are when they are so amazed out in the mountains to learn of little schoolhouses where men keep children who do not retain a number in addition. I think we should all think for a moment about the freedom in our hearts, we should not be held back, internally we are all free, we need to exist as free beings. I refuse to be something like a fly in a web that twists and turns in his sleep as his breath heaves and the spider comes to steal his life. That is not me, I am not going to be, I am going to be something so free, I am going to be something more than just the air trapped to the earth, and more than the universe in expansion. I am going to be limitless in the heartfelt way of a human and I am going to forgive as creatures who have been beaten must. I am going to produce a hammer that will make everyone see how gorgeous the eyelashes are and how delicate the intricate design of their veins that produce a method of hypothesis for people to try out over and over until there is a next thing to do and a next thing to try to be. I am going to forget my inside hurt and leave the scars to blur like that of an earthquake and show the strength of humanity as we all hold hands in remembrance of a fellow soldier who took his life after wanting to be with his wife and child and needed an escape from the desert and the chill of the beating of his pulse. We need to be warranted in a deeper sense to what is so little and magnificent and how we are possible of such good and decent behavior beyond what this whole known place can contain. That is something that comes within us and spreads like a sweet buttery scent over us and becomes a wonderful production of love. I refuse to hate though hate is the thing that is inside and holds dear tightly to my little cells to try to break me, I will be free. I will be so encapsulated with the beauty that forgoes all of the misfortunes that my battered heart will take. I will be as nature, as we kill her and yet she stands strong and produces sunshine and stars and air for us to live upon. I will show them that I am not weak, that I deserve more. I am more than my damaged self. I am the tall postured spirit of the wind.

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