The Curious Adventures of Gordan's Thoughts

Sometimes it’s not about easing the way
It’s about readying it
~MG~

Vision
is not just about dreams or aspirations
Vision
is discernment and preparations
Vision
is not limited to eyesight
Vision
is seeing with the heart, soul, and mind
Vision
is not seeing flaws in everyone else
Vision
is seeing through one’s damaged self
Vision
is not focused on surface beauty
Vision
is breaking down the walls for clarity
Vision
is not excused supposition
Vision
is learning to destroy inhibitions
Vision
is not a fantasy nor memory
Vision
is embracing you in my reality.

 

MG

You

We are only ever
incarcerated
by what we perceive
to be “need”.

This is why
loving you,
darling,
is my liberation.

My liberty.

I’m free,
you’re free,
and amidst all this freedom,

I choose you.

MG

“Write it with love,” I kept telling myself as I nervously tried to muster up the words. Writing from the heart was never hard until I realized how much there is to say, and yet so few words to convey. Perhaps that’s why I resort to poetry, it’s the direct link to the heart, to the unfiltered emotion, without the facade and masquerade of human conditioned behaviour. Socially appropriated responses, as they call it nowadays. Nonetheless, here I sit past sunset, wondering how to best express the wondrous and astounding experience I have been having since the day our eyes met. It seems so simple, when I pen it in rhyme, but why, oh why, do words evade when I want to say more than just…I love you…

Dear Darling,

I write this to you only hoping, praying, that you read this, at some point. Preferably soon would be nice. Our journey together is one of the most beautiful paths I’ve ever taken, especially because it’s with you. I’m not there physically, don’t quite consciously know why, yet somehow emotionally understand. Somehow, I am there, always, in the way that you need me to be, want me to be. I love you for that, for letting me love you. Remember that conversation we had, about “of the many ways to say I love you”? I remember that. I remember all our conversations.

But of all the ways to say “I love you”, you said it best. You said it in your words, in your actions, in your presence as well as in your silence. I only ever wanted to show you that, but became so tangled up in everything else that was going on; all the excitement, the transitions, the thrill and exhilaration of being in your company. I was careless, many times, I slipped up, and I made mistakes. I am sorry for that, truly, for the tears I’ve caused, for the pain from which I only ever wanted to shelter you. You’ve told me how happy you are now, how much you love yourself, how much you’ve grown and continue to grow. It’s like I’m seeing you see in yourself what I saw in you from the moment our eyes met. We lost and found each other amidst our chaos.

I know you find it hard to believe, almost impossible, but I knew from the start. There was something about you, when you sat opposite me, hearing the words come out of your mouth echoing my thoughts and personal reflections? Your words were/are a splittin’ image of my journey; it was uncanny. You had me hooked from the moment you let me get distracted by the tint in your eye. That flawless spark concealing worlds of words, galaxies of comets, stars falling and swirling around planets. Even writing this, I’m taken back to that universe of yours, teleporting through all of it…

Deep down, my love, I understand you, more than you realize. More than I show, sometimes. Emotions are not my forte, I did mention that, but I’m always learning. It’s me, darling, and you have taught me so much. Simply by being who you are, by being here with me, you have taught me lessons in life that I have only ever dreamed of learning. You have given me patience and self-discipline. Two lessons most around me have spend years trying to drill into me. But that’s all you, darling, you inspired me to breathe, to slow down in a way that I didn’t even realize I could. In a way that I very much needed.

You showed me a side of myself I had long since forgotten, a gentle compassion in me that you’d managed to silently resurrect.

My love, you are so much more to me than you realize. Your presence in my life, however you choose it to be, has been one of the reasons I’ve managed to shake of the cocoon that was jading my vision for the past few years. You, simply by showing me that you exist, have worked miracles in my life. It is for this reason that I want to thank you, for growing me, for pushing me into a new realm where you and I can coexist simultaneously while still physically living our human realities. I don’t know how you do it, and suppose a magician never reveals a secret.

I’m no magician, but I do have a secret. A secret that I would happily REveAL if you want.

Truthfully, darling, I hope you realize that it has always been you.

Just you.

What you and I have…this is beyond love. It’s something deeper. I know you know that. I love you, and so much more than just love…You are amazing. We are amazing. This journey; us.

Us…The story that writes itself…

M.G.

Write until all that remains is love; Love always remains.

Write until the clouds shift, until the sun comes out to play. Write until there is no more anger, no more pain, no more fear, no more anxiety, no more excuses, no more boundaries. Write, and write, and write, until all that remains…is Love.

It’s explosive. Love is beautiful.

It’s all the good, the bad, the scary, the sad, wrapped up and bundled into a giant confusing package.

But amidst all the confusion and turmoil, there is that steadfast, security that sometimes feels like a literal rock. A rock that, no matter how hard it is pushed, the one pushing only ricochets because it is so much stronger than any human.

That rock, is Love.

Love itself is strong,  much stronger than humans are sometimes capable. Humans fall short of Love itself — if Love were to stand alone, it could be much like the Himalayas with ambivalent directions pointing left, right, centre, when all you had to do was keep going up; or deep as the Grand Canyon with a bunch of trampolines in case one does “accidentally fall in Love”.

But the journey to Love is sometimes treacherous; ask any adventurer or explorer. Getting stuck in potholes, sinking in quicksand; frost bite, rope burn, to name a few. It’s the journey that is the adventure. Love is free of cost, but not free of journey. It is not a state in which one can teleport; it is a “destination” that one reaches.

To a writer, writing is that journey. It is that path one writes, scribbling lines paving the way to the heart of a writer. It is the concoction of words concatenating the thoughts, the feels, the warm embraces. It is the bridges we cross and walk around in circles trying to find our ways around the place, trying to write out the steps to the destination.

Love heals.

To write, is to love.
To love, is to heal.
To write, is to heal to love.

Write until all that remains is love.

All. That. Remains.

Is love.

MG

To You:

I’m out of words.

A thousand pages of poetry later and I’ve one conclusion:

I don’t need you
as much as you think I do
but
I want you
I miss you
and
I love you

You.
Just, as you are.
You.

MG

Writing is immortality. It is that flux between turning memories and fantasy into reality.

You get inspired, you fall in love with that feeling, you want to keep that spark alive, so you write. You write about what inspires you, you write about who inspires you. You write, and write, and write, until you realize the only thing surreal about what is written is that the encryptions are your reality transformed into the physical entity of writing.

There is a person behind the words.
There is a story within those words.
There is soul inside the poetry.
There is feeling in reality.

What is unwritten is only ever unfinished, and what is unfinished needs to be written. What needs to be written will be lived, and what was lived is thusly transcribed.

Write, darling, for it is your immortality.

I write, darling, for it is my immortality.

It is our immortality.

Write, darling, just write.

Until there is nothing left to say except the raw, wild, unfiltered, unencumbered, relentless, limitless feeling of what humans have come to call “inspiration”.

Write, darling, for it is immortality.

Just. Write.

~MG~

I don’t want someone to
fight for me.

I don’t want someone to
fight against me.

I want someone to
fight
with
me.

If that’s too much to ask,
then I’ll fight alone regardless.

I didn’t get this far
to make it
just here.


I didn’t get this far
by waiting around to prove my worth.

No,
I know what it’s like to be tired.

I know what exhaustion feels like.

I know what it’s like to want to give up.

But,

I also know what it’s like
to have no choice but to keep going.

And that,
m’dear,
is all I know.

So darling,
keep going.

With or without me.

I made it,
so can you.

Prove me right.

I dare you.

 

MG

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