#monologue

I am the sum of me even though I’m disconnected from the soup of experiences and memories that are mine.
Even if I am a house to separate selfs and kind-of familiar individuals,
even if I am a stranger to myself,
I’m still me.
Last night I realized that: not only my past me’s are foreign to me, but also the recent two years me, or the me after.
All of these individuals, are not real to me. No matter how hard we all try.
But I know they existed, and the only proof I have of their memory is their records. I read what they recorded.
I was them. But something’s missing. No connections.

Since the disappointing fall in ’12,
there has been a new sensation, embodied as a presence inside me.
It is like a layer to my person and personality.
It is the disappointed self that arose,  her lips sealed tight and eyes bright, forgiving and allowing the cosmos it’s ways.
That part of me is all part of me now. And the rest of me is a librarian.

And two years ago, she faithfully and maybe bravely rejected the idea of reoccurring disappointment and gave to the concept of you and I a chance to prove a ‘miracle’ or ‘initiation’ to go on with this journey. So so that I managed to connect with you my soulmate and crusaded inside cosmos again as the best me I could offer to it and you and myself.
And I was happy too.
I was remembering, and I discovered that I should’ve been very much happy in late ’13 till mid ’14 in comparison to today. I’m still ‘happy’, ..this empty yet technically ‘happy’ state; but you, and even the whole concept of soulmate are foreign to me, even though I know this is mine.

You read this and you’re upset because of various words written which have power to either offend or terribly hurt, but know that I write them with one intention; to clarify myself for both of us.
just another existential breakdown, it’ll fade

Faith is a phoenix, it won’t die.

an insistent, terrible Knowing; that indeed no matter how far one gets in experiencing ‘who and why they are’,

there’s a station in every phase when you get to take the train back to square one and off again to a new destination in a multiverse of outcomes.
I know I wasn’t given the Ticket, and I hate being a stowaway. I know there is no final destination because the train can either go in circles and from A to B. Yet this terrible knowing that everything is as it should, and god will always say, it’s good- is .. disappointing.
I don’t want to be where god is anymore.
I want to be free-er.

 

LB
laila

Layla

Lulu

 

whatever me is signed in as.