Personal Expression, Release, and Exploration of the theme of "Breaking"

Posts tagged ‘walls’

Being Held (a story I just wrote)

http://wattpad.com/story/10681138?utm_content=share_passage&utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link

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Deep Desires Romantically and Sensually, With The Right Person

I just posted this today on a website, am reposting it here: Musings on my deep desires romantically and sensually speaking with the right person: I think a relationship which is about trust and intimacy and consensual ly breaking each other’s walls down…and opening up to vulnerability…i want to be touched in a very deep and “sensually violating” way at times. Be taken, taken over, broken down and held

Borderline Breaking…Continuation of Reflections

Yet another type of breaking. One which is in a sense destructive but it’s purpose is freedom and “violent rescue”. Which I believe is behind some self destructive acts and things that people often don’t understand. An impulse to destroy what in oneself is causing the torment and perpetual choking of the soul so to speak. Or to destroy the walls and barriers. This is “borderline breaking.” It stands at the threshold, the razor wire…turn one way it’s dangerous, another way, it’s radically freeing. Threshold of destruction and creation, perhaps

Wanting To Be Found (short story)

She had always been a sensitive person, and when people mistreated her, which happened often, it felt as if she was being torn apart, crushed, and that she became nothing.  The fragile tendrils attempting to reach out for sunlight, her desires for affection, respect, and connection with her fellow humans, were constantly thwarted.  People made fun of her for who she was, judged her and found her lacking, used her and exploited her, and rejected her when she developed a longing for someone.  So, as she grew into an adult after a lifetime of this, having it constantly drilled into her head that there was something wrong with her and that she did not deserve what she wanted and needed most of all, she slowly built a shell to hide inside.  To keep the world, and life itself, from touching her.  It was a hard shell, she blocked the vulnerability that she had been taught to fear.  For a time, it felt like a solution.  She  felt secure in there, calm and impenetrable, not hurtable.  

 

But before long this security turned to oppression, she felt disconnected from the only thing that made her feel alive, that she desired most of all, because deep down she felt that it wasn’t safe to want it.  She felt buried alive, and her obsession became obtaining freedom, at any cost.  

 

All she wanted any more was for the shell to break, to shatter, to be rescued and truly touched, Inside, again.  

Sustenance (Poem)

There’s so much I want to say

So much of Reality that I would like to put words and images to
To make manifest in forms
But the waters are murky and muddy
And the picture hidden from view
Bang my head against the wall
The glass needs breaking
Like a coconut, hard to crack
Surrounded
And encased

In a hard shell

The warm liquid inside is sustenance
But the shell…
It’s hard to break.
I want to be
Where the waters intermingle
Where the colors flash and shine
As what they are
As the multiple facets, indispensable
Of the one Reality
Inviolate,undisturbed,yet open,soft,and yielding
Real.

Real

Touching in deep places

When the glass shatters and breaks

We will meet again

 

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Kitty (a short story experiment,which may not be finished yet)

Kitty had always been quiet.  She elt fragile around people.  She felt like she was made of glass, that she could be broken and shattered.  She felt transparent, that people could see through her and would shove her violently aside and use her for their own purposes; think she was an empty space that they could fill with whatever they wanted; judge her reality as worthless, and easily dismissible.  

 

So she kept to herself.  She held herself off, built walls and barriers.  She disguised herself as much as possible because she did not want to break and she did not want to be obliterated.  She lived in a secret world, where no one could see in.  

 

But after a while she couldn’t see in either a good part of the time.  

 

Her sadness and isolation is evidenced in her eyes at times.  Sometimes they are blank though; veiled, inscrutable, indecipherable.  

 

But deep down, there is a part of her that knows there is something else.  Something other than THIS.  Sometimes, she catches glimpses of it.  

 

Sometimes her eyes get a focused look to them, a door opens, light comes shimmering through the cracks.  

 

Sometimes she wants someone to see inside.  She made herself invisible, but she is tired of being invisible.  She wants someone to come in, who is different than the others.  She wants to be safe and held.  She is tired of disappearing.  

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