What’s next for me here when I’ve done what I came for? What can come of us when I’ve given all of my love to the wrong one? What better can I do when I’ve made the worst mistake there is to make? Who left is there to become if I have existed in the highest fulfillment of myself? What more is there to tell you if I carry my scars and bleed them out on the floor? Who am I to find if I have killed off the person I was? What is there to protest when I haven’t been given a voice? And what voice is there to find when I won’t be heard? Who are you to love when I haven’t figured out how to love myself? How am I to survive when nothing proves enough for me? When everything is obsolete.

 I think I am stuck and perhaps that is the catch, the thought becomes entrapment. So here I am, immovable. I don’t see – hear – or feel God, and I don’t, at this moment, believe the glory is to him. Maybe later, and perhaps that’s the blasphemy, belief in the action and not the existence. In the absence of myself, I realize the extremity in being accessible. I have made myself available to unavailable people. I curse them in all their non-action and yet have become painfully aware of my unattainability. Meaning praise God for their efforts to be available and curse my childish way of being nonexistent. The first time I traveled outside of the country, it was to escape from being too accessible. Perhaps in all my efforts I only became absent to myself. It’s crippling, denial, because it fervently strips your abilities to see – hear – or feel God. I think I am trying, but maybe that’s the illusion, that there is anything that needs to be fixed.

Miss Parisia B.

Photo by Dominik Schröder on Unsplash


  1. Breathe and stare at an object…and give it your presence— (canceling thoughts and refocusing) —That’s stillness, my dear… Your mom should be so proud of you! What a wonderful writer you are…to feel everything so deeply is both a blessing and a curse.

  2. Yes, I am still here….thinking of you.
    Love your thoughts. I passed these thoughts to my granddaughter who is having a hard time with life. She is losing herself. Miss you

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