Naked and vulnerable  

maybe notes to myself?

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Naked and vulnerable  

I'm lost in space, on a rock and one I try to shape by learning it's qualities and how they respond to each other. 

Some call me an alchemist, others "clay doctor". Among the green sea of new souls,  I feel some amount unseen and small. A refreshing but terrible sensation. 

You're in your body with no one else.  

maybe it is a matter of living alone now but I feel this more than ever. Perhaps it is a matter of moving from a sanctuary to a church.i've never felt comfortable in a church, always slightly out casted in my oozing flirtation and curly brown hair now silica coated. 

I'm lost and my bike chain stuck. This is only for a moment, not even, though very real.


Uncertain in my body 

I recently wrote down a list of insecurities. A daunting task it may seem. 

In the left column, a flood of things I hoped to never face wrote themselves while in the top right, I created a column named "truths" in which I wrote to myself as a friend. Soul to body.

We can be cruel to ourselves but how dare we say that thing to someone we'll know our entire life?

How dare we compare our messy cluttered, lost interior to the maintained shell of another. 

 Be kind and gentle with your squishy insides. They bruise and need time to heal.

Be patient, you're here exactly the amount of time you are and there is no way to accomplish everything, especially all at once. 


Raw but strong

Are we not supposed to share these things with other people?