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the story of me . . .

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Life was knocking at my door...

There was a time where I actually believed that I was responding to the knock, receiving the message, signing for the package, utilizing the precious contents. But life knew better. And so, it kept knocking. And I'd hear it... every single time... and I'd do what I could to answer right away... to hear... to acknowledge...

But the house, my house, was falling down... and I was locked inside. At first, it may have been only a leaky faucet... but the drip-drip-drip distracted me. And I didn't answer the knock at the door right away because I was busy with the faucet... attempting to fix the problem... not knowing what I was doing... creating more of a mess... consumed by the fear of a simple leak becoming something bigger, something more damaging...

Bit by bit, the house began to fall apart around me... one by one, the windows were shattering... the roof was leaking.. the walls began to shift and crack... and all the while, life was out on the front steps, knocking... louder and louder and louder and louder...

There were times I'd scream for it to stop, to cease with the bullshit... and I'd shake my fist at it, saying that my house was falling down because of all of the motherfucking incessant knocking... and if it would just go-the-hell-away and leave me-the-hell-alone for one godforsaken minute, then MAYBE I could get back on top of the things that were breaking down all around me, and I could fix these things up, once and for all...

Frantically, I was running like a crazy-lady from floor to floor, room to room, attempting to save pieces of this, pieces of that... all with a knocking so loud now, it was deafening... the whole house was shaking, uncontrollably... and I was exhausted... and confused... and lost, in the house, in the struggle... and very much alone...

And I could feel the house sinking, lower and lower, going under, taking me with it... this enormous, crumbling mass-of-madness that I no longer recognized was slipping away into oblivion...

But it was all that I had...

So in one final heroic attempt to save something, anything, I felt my way through the darkness to the cellar door, and I tumbled down the stairs into the basement... at the bottom of it all... underneath all-of-everything... to check the foundation...

Miraculously, I was able to light one soggy match... and this tiny flame illuminated a space just enough for me to clearly see...

And I didn't see any cracks... I didn't see anything at all -- the foundation to my house was no longer there... and instantly, undeniably, I knew that there was absolutely nothing I could do to save it...

And the flame burned down to my fingertips while the darkness closed in around me...

And it was there, underneath a rumbling, heaving, foundationless structure that I gave up, gave in, and gave my final breath to an existence I once called mine... one hollow scream in the cold, damp, darkness as I released it all, everything, from my desperate, trembling, pitiful grasp...

I lay there in the dirt, exhausted and numb, as the entire structure blew sky high... and as the smoldering ashes rained down upon me, I knew that I had just died... in fact, I had killed myself, perhaps somehow knowing that it was the only way for me live...

The total annihilation of me, for the life me...

As the dust settles and the smoke clears, I find that I am still very much in the dirt... I've simply chosen to stay here, on my knees... here in the dirt, poking around, playing in it, getting familiar with it, excavating it, blessing it, and even loving it...

And yes, I am raw from the battle, raw from the excavating... hypersensitive to everything... yet I accept this and give thanks for this... for, it is because of this that my tolerance is at an all-time low... pretty quickly, I know what to embrace and what to release... what resonates with me and what does not... what is authentic me and what is accumulated... and I hand pick and carefully choose these pieces and parts as I journey through the dirt... so very, very careful not to rush around all willy-nilly, in a fear-ignited attempt to rebuild for the sake of rebuilding...

Because truthfully, I would rather be on my knees within a journey of self-truth and self-creation -- naked and penniless and alone and real, in the dirt -- than to be locked inside a lie -- a false, warm and wonderful, comfortable life that doesn't feel anything like me, the woman I really am... the woman I have been born to become...

For it's here, in the darkness, that I can simply tip my head back whenever I choose and see the star lit heavens smiling above...

Thank you for taking the time to read this...
thank you for caring...

xoxo,
gee

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by me, gee cobain
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*thankyouverymuch*

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