The Apology

It is 12:03 pm. I wanted to go for a run, but a chat with a friend I just had, reminded me of a scene there can be, after you enter back from rehab, into society. It’s that kinda chat with your family in which you offer them an apology. That would also have to be me. Rehab? I did go. I did not have therapy or someone who talked to me who studied psychology. I wrote. I went with my inner flow. That is how I survived.

I used to thrive on lies. White lies. Because I didn’t feel safe. Within. I was living a life in a very fearful spin. Not big lies. (draft saved:12:07:07 pm) But a lie is a lie, no matter how big or small. It doesn’t matter why I lied and manipulated. I can tell you many stories. And I have. You can read them all online, here, all those stories expose my fear. Fear to be alone. Fear to be unworthy. Fear to be seen as ugly. Fear to be dumb. Fear to be kicked in my back. Fear to be yelled at.

I’ve lived my life having no boundaries. I didn’t know where I stopped and where you popped. Now I do. And there is one boundary I really got exposed to. The one of this country. The country I want to call my home. But I can’t; this country kicked me out, but I did this all on my own. (time:12:12 pm)It exemplifies on how I used to thrive. No respect for my own back. Not knowing when my boundary was crossed. And I never felt when I crossed yours either. Yes, many a boundary I have overstepped. I know that.

Now that I’m at the end of my rehab, I have to do something that is not rad. Think Tiger Woods. And his apology. That will not be me. His I didn’t feel. Not for one minute. I hope my family will feel my apology. My apology for overstepping my and thus their boundary. My apology for (word count: 337) wanting to take my own life. My apology for wanting things to go my way thru whatever I would say. I used to play. I used to re-act. Now I act. From the heart; love. Not fear.

Fear (word count: 377)I still feel. But fear just is. Fear and love have become one. Within. Within me. Then comes Divinity. I need some water. Water is my cure. Water is pure. Like trees. Trees are so super gracefully. Something I desire to be. Something I am. As long as I am one with my responsibility. My integrity. And I express my integrity thru my writing passionately.

I cry when I write this. I cry because of something I don’t like. Not because I don’t want to make that apology to my family. It’s because I can’t live without breathing. And I breathe thru writing. It’s my air. It helps me when I feel despair but also when I’m floating on air. It keeps me in line with (word count:505 time: 12:21 pm) this new unity paradigm. It’s my play. And the best (draft saved: 12:22:09 pm) thing about my hearts play is, is that it connects me to all that is. You, you and you!

And that is all I ever wished when I was a little kid; to serve the greater good by playing all day every day. And that we can all play together in love, peace and harmony. I love life so much and I’m sorry I tried to cut mine short. But as with everything it served a purpose. I was meant to write. I was meant to write ’bout the story of my life. Writing is how I survive. I never ever want to go back to how I used to perceivingly thrive. Thru manipulation and lies. That was hell. And I wrote the hell out of my life.

There is only one thing I truly wish for myself: that I can continue to do what I love. And that is writing. That is my job. And this job I so so so love. Wholeheartedly and passionately. This is my destiny. So please God, don’t ever take it away from me. And god? Is me. Destiny is up to me. Have I set the beast forever free? Fingers crossed I am indepedant financially thru having used my mind and heart in unity. (time: 12:30)

Rehab? Was my way of living the past year and a half. Rehab were the shelters where I lived for free miraculously. Rehab were the donations that were given to me. Rehab pushed me out cuz it knew it was time to shine in this unity paradigm. I dunno what shining looks like. I don’t (word count: 777) occupy myself with wanting to shine. I don’t think that way. I think in semi-rhyme. I am who I am and when I am, I write. And when I speak (word count: 808) I secretely wish we’d do it all telepathically. That leaves no room for mis-communication. (time:12:34 pm)

But now I do feel a lil bit of hesistation. More proof would be nice of this telepathic vice. Is there anyone out there who knows I love a good surprise? (word count: 848) That would be nice. But I don’t expect anything. I just am. Right now. And somehow, my heart wanted to utter this apology: I am sorry! I am sorry I manipulated you before starting to write this story. (draft saved:12:37:10) I am sorry my family, my friends and my man! I truly truly am… (published:12:55 pm)