Quote of the day

“Sharp as the blade of a razor, long and difficult and hard to cross, is the way to freedom…

Yet do not let these weaknesses and failures bind you…

We will then certainly cross the path, sharp as it is like the razor, and long and distant and difficult though it be;

Man becomes the master of gods and demons.”

~Swami Vivekananda

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Quote of the day

“We are responsible for what we are, and whatever we wish ourselves to be, we have the power to make ourselves. If what we are now has been the result of our own past actions, it certainly follows that whatever we wish to be in the future can be produced by our present actions; so we have to know how to act.”

~Swami Vivekananda

Some Rules

  1. Eat only when you’re really hungry. Try to taste the flavours in their rawest forms.
  2. Sleep only when you’re sleepy.
  3. Seek entertainment outside gadgets.
  4. Know that your brain has everything it needs to rewire itself and reach the destination you’re trying to get to. (It’s scientifically proven.)
  5. Commit to yourself. You’re the only person, who can judge the sincerity of your efforts accurately.
  6. Study as if you’re playing a video game. Always be keen to reach the solution.
  7. Get better at getting better at things.
  8. Belief is a pesky thing. You either know something or you don’t.
  9. Be present and just live.

***

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The Healing

The pressure.

It’s squeezing the grey matter of my brain.

The saucy spinal fluid secretes.

Like a big cube of warm, meaty cheese- I sweat.

The grating of my memories begin.

Sending shockwaves of pain throughout my body.

My brain- It’s got its own heartbeat now.

It throbs for the togetherness we shared.

I try to coat all the windows with a black paint.

Thinking it might stop the sun from rising again.

Thinking I might convince the clock, that it’s still night,

It‘s okay slow down it’s tick-tock, that it’s alright.

But what a child’s wishes are to the ancient time, always knowing everything better?

And who an evanescent dewdrop is, to challenge the course of the mighty river?

Each day comes, comes the swift blows, cold truths & the biting winds.

And I must say, time teaches one patiently.

But I’m not the best one to teach.

I’m a withered oak tree;

Rooted, dense and unyielding in its reach.

Strong, but not strong enough.

Destined to be broken.

Facing a long autumn alone.

Stripped off of all my sorrows,

Stripped off of all my happy leaves;

The tears fall, eyelashes grey and the knuckles profusely bleed.

Smearing my photographs of you with red.

Each day I forget a little bit of your face.

Each day I gather an extra layer of haze.

My feelings numb, their intensity slowly turns to insanity.

The laughter dies, the silence wakes up quietly.

This cleansing by time, this methodical freeing of self- it continues diligently.

Every bit unwanted…

Every bit unrequited…

It takes away both the happiness and pain;

It doesn’t separate the whites from the blacks and the sunshine from the rain;

It is just.

And to prove it’s justness, it ruthlessly washes over me again.

And now I’m brand new.

I’ve been washed, dried and used a million times, but today I’m brand new.

No memories.

Nothing but a blank brain.

Today, I’m a house robbed away of all the people that used to live inside me.

Today, I stand ravaged by a cyclone.

I’m a skeleton, picking up the scattered pieces of my bones.

Rattled,

but clean.

Broken,

but alive.

Grateful.

Maybe this is what healing looks likes.

***

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Quote of the day

“I have been able to tap into all the negative things that can happen to me throughout my life by numbing myself to the pain so to speak and kind of being able to vent it through my music.”

~Chester Bennington

Chester

Dear Chester,

The piano, guitars and drums-

the music itself seems orphaned now.

Only your signature metal scream remains.

A remainder of your soul,

and a reminder of our loss,

It echoes.

Bittersweet- through a million hollow hearts.

Asking us- ‘Who cares, if one more light goes out in the sky of a million stars?’

And we cry, we scream & we break as we reply-

‘We do.’

But it’s already too late…

***

Dear Chester,

You were not a single light in the sky, you were the sun itself.

I’d put my headphones on and the truth used to dawn upon me.

Thank you for being the voice of everything I felt, but couldn’t express.

Fire- trapped within us we were, suffocating bodies of flesh.

Consuming ourselves alive- for we never knew how to say- all that needed to be said.

You did that for us.

You stood up for us.

Making sure we never felt alone.

Cause you knew, what it meant to be stifled, to be afraid.

You knew, how it felt to live alone with the voices inside your head; with that all consuming darkness.

And you knew how to continue to shine through.

And you taught us that secret, too.

And more than the music, we loved you for that.

And then one day, with you consoling us through our headphones, the news came-

CHESTER BENNINGTON DEAD.

And we were ashamed, that we only knew how to be consoled.

That I only knew, how to take; but not to give.

That I only knew, how to stay lost in the echoes of my darkness and be ignorant of all the other dark places in the world.

I was ashamed of my hypocrisy.

I was ashamed of my blindness.

And life had never felt more silent to before.

Since then there’s been a storm raging on…

The anger and betrayal blared through my headphones for days.

And as time passed by, I kept discovering new bottoms within myself.

I kept finding new pain to relate to in your songs.

But I promised, I’d never disappoint you again.

And that promise taught me how to walk alone with my darkness.

And truth be told?

You did not die.

It was us the millions that died a little bit inside;

And probably our best parts.

The parts with light written on them.

You did not die that day.

You’ll forever live in us listeners’ hearts and only rest with our final songs.

And I assure you; through hell, we intend to sing.

We intend to sing, as if there’s a draught of bad singing on the earth.

Even with the pain crawling beneath our skins,

and numbness clawing our hearts from listening to your screams for hours on a loop-

We intend to continue.

Cause we really did, Chester, we really cared.

It was just that we were a bit late in saying it.

We always assumed you knew…

***

Dedicated to Chester Bennington

(March 20, 1976 – July 20, 2017)

#MakeChesterProud