Most nights she walks into the kitchen, Unbeknownst of what to make for dinner. As she opens the fridge for inspiration, Her ideas and creativity slowly start to simmer.

In the kitchen she is free to play, With different ideas, flavours and combinations. As she combines and experiments with the various ingredients, She no longer allows any limits on her imaginations.

For over ten years, food has filled her with anxiety, Because she has this disease that causes multiple food related issues. But in the past two years, through many a dark moment, She has healed her gut and that is such big news!

Now, she gets excited when it comes to preparing meals, She prefers not plan ahead, no she enjoys the spontaneity Of opening the mysterious fridge door To peak at whatever ingredients will inspire her ingenuity.

In the kitchen, she has come alive again. She not only enjoys cooking, but her love for food has been rekindled.

She pretends to be kind, as she finds out your weaknesses, only to use them against you. She says she is your friend, but behind your back she drenches your name in toxic sludge. She is so good at making you think that she cares, that you think that you are the one who is crazy when she suddenly withdraws any affection. Your intution tells you that her intensions are manipulative, but somehow she makes you forget about it momentarily. And as soon as you let your guard down, you immediately regret it, because now she has you exactly where she wants you to be. She wants you to feed her your energy, she wants to take your light for herself, she wants to feel powerful by making you feel powerless. It's normally too late to save yourself, because she does it without you even realising it. It can go on for years, the taking and taking and taking. Until. One day you say enough I have had enough and will no longer feed your ego. And from then on you wear your boundaries like a shield, or you break contact completely and block the shit out of that toxicity from your life. If you don't, you will end up giving your whole self to her.

Why wait until I am old to stop caring what people think? Why not sing at the top my lungs today, in the street, no matter the reactions? Why not wear crazy outfits combined out of clashing colours because who cares? Why not write whatever I want, even if it is “junk” to some, because writing is something I do for me anyway? Why wait until I’m 90 to die my hair purple, To drop my dress at the door and live life without inhibitions? Why not get drunk at my brother’s wedding and invite all the stuck up ones to dance with me, And have them talk “badly” about me for years later? Why not pretend like I am 18 again, if only for just one night? Why wait until I’m 90 to set perfectly loving boundaries? Or look back at my life with great pride, joy and nostalgia? Why wait until I’m 90 to walk slower, take up space and ask for help? Why wait until I’m 90 to love everyone and everything with great passion?

I want you to message me and yet I never want to hear from you ever again. I keep looking at your Instagram to see what you are doing now and then I block you. It happens all time, it has sort of become a a cha cha dance by now. Where I take one step forward, then to the side and then backwards. Only to repeat this every other week or so.

I want you to think of me and yet I want you to forget I ever existed. Like I am trying to forget about you, because we were never meant to be more than what we were. You are neurotic and lack empathy, you never kept your promises and it turns out it was always a just a game for you. But, the truth is, if I am brave enough to admit this, is that I played the game too.

I lied to you, so many times, as did you to me. We probably don’t even know each other, not really anyway. We only know the parts that we showed to each other And some of those parts were made up and a lot was left out too. And I am upset that I played this game for so long. But yet, I couldn’t bring myself to stop playing. Surely that is not on you?

I still find myself thinking of the idea of you. The stories I told myself about you, which isn’t really even you at all. And I miss that person, the person that I created And at the same time, I hate you, I hate how dishonest you were with me. But I too was dishonest with you.

And so I am left with unanswered questions and never getting closure, Because I don’t even think I can trust anything that you say anymore. And I guess this cha cha dance will continue, until I make peace with my role in this dysfunction. Until I stop blaming you for it all and take responsibility too. Until I can block you one day and never feel the urge to think of you again.

If only I wasn’t sick, I would take the world on by storm. If only I had more energy, I would write non stop.

If only the world was kinder, And people didn’t give in to their own greed and fears so easily. If only countries weren’t run by corrupt leaders, How many more people would have the opportunity to flourish?

If only we could go back in time, To stop the toxic mess that we are in now. If only everyone would realise their connectedness to nature, And stop hurting themselves by polluting her.

If only we stopped consuming so, And realised that our soul’s are happier when we create. If only we could get off this runaway train, The rat race trap that we so easily fall into.

If only we could sit with ourselves, If only we could love ourselves, If only we could forgive ourselves, How different would everything not be?

The sun is setting… anxiety knocks on the window, it wants to come in and fill me with guilt of all the unfinished projects of the day, of all the poems that I didn’t write, of all the pictures that I did not draw.

The stars twinkle in their boundlessness, consoling my ever-seeking soul. They don’t search for meaning, they don’t have the pressure of performance. They merely shine in their existence.

Is it my nature to be productive? Or just to be human? To witness the moon in its changing phases? To ponder my short life in comparison? To hold the mysteries of the night close to my soul? To howl at the full moon?

It lasts a lifetime… the moment when you set your first boundary. At first, you feel like you have committed a crime. that you have caused some irreversible injury.

It lasts a lifetime… the moment when you start protecting your energy, from those who cannot accompany you on your climb. Letting go, you’ll find is the only remedy.

It lasts a lifetime… the moment when you realise that you love yourself more. Your higher self starts to sing like a wind chime when you walk away from a relationship that has become a chore.

It lasts a lifetime… the moment that you stop giving yourself away. And start seeing yourself as sublime. Their happiness is not your responsibility anyway.

The boundary brings you closer to yourself. The boundary is not to hurt them, but it is saying “I love myself”.

The revelation is that we don’t cry anymore. We hold our feelings in for evermore.

The revelation is that we crave routine. But freedom has become our modern-day doctrine.

The revelation is that when you notice yourself overreacting. It could point towards your soul’s awakening.

The revelation is that your words won’t be remembered. Even when you exert a decent amount of effort.

The revelation is that you are a speck of starlight. And you can disappear into a cloud of dust like a suicide.

The revelation is watching a cat chasing his tail, and your whole being naturally gives an exhale.

I sometimes feel like it’s my fault that I am sick. I stress a lot, I have been anxious, living in fight and flight mode for most of my existence.

Is this what made me sick? My lack of boundaries and self-love, Worry and fear. The overthinking spirals I keep finding myself into.

Sometimes I manage to get up and fight. Maybe I fight too hard at times What is the right amount of effort required for healing? How could I even really know?

They tell me, doctors and healers, That I am too hard on myself. I need to do less, take it easier.

I have been sick for years. I have been feeling upside down for so long. How much longer can I endure? Before I accept that this might just be what I need?

The closer you think that you are getting to awakening, the further away from it you find yourself. It’s like being self aware, isn’t actually being self aware. What would life be if we are all awakened, would that even be life at all?