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I'm healing.

Slowly and childishly, I am learning patience. Concious patience is learned, but often
at war with subconcious wisdom we all possess. My soul understands before my beautiful
mind can begin to comprehend.

I came here with idealistic visions. I remember meth fuelled and scrambling through
the psychotic mindwaves for something soothing, something hopeful. And like children
caught on a simplistic ideal devoid of grey, we flew towards what we thought was heaven.

My heaven has been mundane, simplistic and unchanging for over nine months. I caught amongst
my narcisstic ideals, self delusion and misguided purpose struggled and suffocated
against what I thought was a wrong choice.

He screamed and ranted and covered me in shattered glass and hate as eighteen years
of pain overwhelmed him and I constricted his escape.

As I gardener watch with pride as my sheltered and cosseted bloom flourishes to the
natural beauty to which I envisioned. I watch him grow into the man he was meant to become.
Honest, integral, beautiful and proud. Ain't love beautiful?

In this healing, it had been overcast and frequented by cyclonic gusts that have threatened
my sanity. I, once proud and confident and beautiful have been crippled and surrounded in
my own vomit. I no longer hold self respect and everything I fought for was to gain
a sense of pride and worth amongst a ocupation that diversfied my soul to the point
i thought my psyche was unknowable. I have known no other, my fantasies and desires have
never been wholesome, my first was being gang raped by a group of twenty men.

Every second day now my fingers vibrate to different tunes. Tunes of patience and touch
devoid of hate, the security of years and the belief of one that I have the power
to overcome, overwhelm, inspire and heal without being the exotic deviant butterfly.

My words, whilst always being a viable tool for the distancing of reality, have always
been self prophetic. He came when I wrote him, as did pain and beauty and the searching
for experiences I will never regret, but wish I had the wisdom to explore over decades.

I have encountered those with deviant pedeohpillic intent. Whilst their greatest search is for youth,
that hope, brilliance, beauty, idealism, innocence and nieviety is the glistening dew
which as a bug searches for nourishment, they crave to heal their soul. Never underestimate the
subterranean fluidity and power of sex. Underestimating the power of a single touch, yet alone
a union is our greatest fault. I am learning through patience, that my words are just enough.
That my smile can have the power to light up a room, and my thoughts intellectual and promising
enough to entertain without physical innuendo. I have hope and I have beauty and I can still
regain that entrancing unconsious aura I though was stolen before I could ever experience it.

In this learning I realise my subsequent power and knowledge has more power and potency than
it ever did before. And amgonst this environment in which I had rebelled, the patience of
continuitiy has offered me more healing that the chaos and frenetic genius that my city provided.

I will go back to city again, humbler, less delusional and more at peace with my reality.
There are flaws everwhere, the secret ingredient to beauty.

I miss the minds and the excitement and the stimulation. But I am learning fundandamental lessons
and in the days where the sun shines so brilliantly and I can feel nothing but love, I forgot
I missed hope. And hope is singularly different from purpose. Because before I had purpose, however misguided,
in hope I surrender any narcisstic tendancies to prophesise my future, and live merely in the surety
that I know tomorrow is going to be okay. And if it's not, it's for a reason and someone else is smiling.

I have learnt that there are moments, reasons, occupations and acts in which pride is misplaced, yet shame hurts too many to be righteous. You do not have to be proud of something to be ashamed of it. Pride reveals to others that there is saturated reasoning and beauty in what you do. There is beauty in what I have done, but not beauty in the act, merely the lessons.

I'm happy, even though I find a thousand reasons why I shouldn't be. If feels too good to be true.
Oh the foolishness of humanity.

In the meantime, Smile.

Oh thats right.
Smile again.

Feels good doesn't it?

and again, and again, and again?

Do you realise you've been happy now for almost five seconds?

You didn't think of anything else did you?

It's as easy as a smile.

The most simple of things seem to be good to be true.

smile again motherfucker.