Saturn & the Sun. 

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Lately I’ve been oscillating between opening up and crawling back to a silent vacuum. Opening up, for me, is proof that there is some fight left in me. The fetishisation of the light at the end of the tunnel, if you will. But a part of me has been seeking refuge behind denial, again. I’ve hid behind smoke-screens, plunging in to oblivion. Nothing I’ve had to encounter during the last few years have been black/ white. It’s always mixed in to grey, confusing my weary mind. 
Disgruntled, redundant, damaged, difficult and incompetent; narratives that are reinforced on some level day in and day out. Some days it’s my own mind, expounding on the voices that don’t matter, voices that don’t know better. On other days, it’s a headline, art on a wall, an anecdote, or a “joke”. It’s the words that are said, words that are left unsaid and every little confusion in between. It’s repeatedly being discarded as if my presence meant very little. It’s been reduced to a temporary bliss by people who whispered promises of forever, reinforcing each day that I’m damaged, difficult and discarded. 
On some nights I resurface from the depths of apathy and reach out again. And even when I’m convinced my wide open arms would be met with cold hollows, I’m met with grace. Holding me close when I feel myself disintegrating, singing me lullabies when I’m mute. And that, that’s all that matters, that’s all that keeps me alive. 
Like Saturn gravitating towards the warmth of the Sun, I stay closer to the loves that keep me warm at night. And with each step I take closer to the affirmations of love, I walk further away from everyone who make me feel less than. Because “maybe it’s not about being with someone who makes you happy, but being with someone who will be there even when you’re not”, and lord knows I have my little army of angels illuminating my soul on dark nights. 

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