See the Contrast…?

I often find myself struggling. Actually, who the hell am I bullshitting. I am constantly struggling.

I was born creative, an artist – so yes, I am fucking emotional and extremely sensitive. I am also a very grounded Taurus, so I’m not the erratic or dramatic types. I don’t cry for nothing, am ridiculously understanding and tolerant and patient. To the point where it drives me mad. See the contrast?

I love being a bull for the insane strength that it’s given me – emotionally and mentally. But when it comes to heart matters, I’m the biggest loser there is. See the contrast?

I feel so deeply and connect so quickly with people – even strangers. I am moved and touched and hurt and offended. I take everything too personally. I take things to heart. I feel enough pain of my own, I don’t know why I need feel other people’s pain! I can’t separate myself from them. See the contrast?

I love my country and it’s people as much as I have no faith in them – they make my otherwise positive outlook on life, rather grim and negative. See the contrast?

I am patient but I want it now.

I am surrounded by people but lonely.

I am constantly grateful but somehow still unhappy.

Something’s always missing. And I’m running out of ideas. How do I fill the hole? Does it ever get filled?

I wish I was emotionally cold and dead. No feelings. No love. Just a ‘whatever’ attitude. I want not to feel. I want not to give a fuck. But I can’t, because I do feel, I do care and I do give a fuck about everything and everyone, all the time. See the contrast?

Dec, 2016.

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Your Expectations…

I don’t talk much,
Not about the past anymore,
Not about how X hurt me, or that I went through Y,
I don’t speak of all the pain, struggle, the number of times I have wanted to end my life, end it all for good,
But that doesn’t mean I’m over it,
That doesn’t mean I don’t feel,
That doesn’t mean I don’t know your pain,
That doesn’t mean anything.
Stop your mind from jumping to conclusions,
Stop your ego from judging me.
My story is mine, I will share it if I need to,
And I’d only need to, to help lighten your load.
I don’t need it to hold grudges or blame,
To whine or stay stuck in a moment long gone.
I don’t need to prove the tons of things I’ve gone through,
I don’t need your sympathy,
I won’t explain myself for your egos satisfaction.
Free me from your expectations,
Because I won’t, I absolutely won’t live up to them.
– Ramona Arena, 3rd September, 2018.

Open Up

Rules are meant to be rewritten

Theories are meant to be challenged

Conclusions are meant to be incomplete

Cuz the finite ain’t finite

And things ain’t what they seem.

 

Questions aren’t meant to be answered

Discovery is meant to be on-going

Seeking is to be an eternal quest

Cuz the finite ain’t finite

And we manifest that of which we dream.

 

It’s round, it’s square,

It’s here, but it’s also there

The dress is blue and the dress is green

Screw your illusions, I see the real deal

But the finite ain’t finite

You’re beyond all you staunchly believe.

 

Yeah the finite ain’t finite

Look beyond all that you perceive.

 

– Ramona Arena 2016.

We

Slow.

Only Finger Tips.

A deep breath cut short.

Slow.

Mmmh. Yes.

Just like that.

Grab.

Fiercely.

Regain control. Gently.

Only lips.

Slow.

Meditation. In the moment.

Senses on high alert.

Everything. Sensitive.

Bliss.

Hands.

Invitation to slurp.

Locks of hair.

Weave between fingers.

Clasp. Squeeze.

Passionate.

Deep.

Shudders. Smile.

Face gripped.

Unmistakable. Knowledge.

Eye contact.

Exchanges.

Slow.

Mmmmh.

You know me well. Intimate.

Gorge. Burst.

Flushed.

Ignite.

-Ramona Arena 2016

Exploring Self Worth…

Sitting at the airport for a few hours the other day, I was consumed with one prevailing thought. Everyone seems to be trying to be someone. You have the business suits, the cool teens, the frequent fliers, the first timers, the couples, the families, the backpackers. Some people dress nice but look so depleted, so sad and forlorn. And that got me thinking about what they really think of themselves vis a vis what they want to be seen as.

The concept of being born for something. A reason. A purpose. To make a difference.

Does there always have to be a reason for it? What about being born to just be?

People talk about making a difference to the world, adding value to it. They say you are born for greatness. To accomplish. To help. To make something of yourself.

What if all of this was nothing but a bunch of lies, possibly invented to comfort someone. Only somewhere along the line, it has now become a universally accepted belief; one that does nothing but put an enormous amount of unnecessary pressure on each of us to ‘achieve’ something. A thing that will justify one’s very purpose of existence!

What if all one ever wants to do is live a life full of peaceful existence? Away from the crowds? What if all that matters most to someone is to love someone – child or partner or… Does this make one less worthy? Less significant? Less deserving? Must the stamp always be on a sheet of paper, that can be framed on a wall, hopefully preserved by generations that follow, as evidence of purposeful existence?

I almost find it alarming that almost everyone on this planet is expected to have dreams – dreams of things they want to achieve. Why should they?

What if one’s dream is to never become a parent? Or what if one’s dream is to be the most supportive, eternally loving and understanding spouse to their partner? Why does that automatically raise eyebrows or make people assume that this person is weird, submissive, spineless? Is it not an ‘accomplishment’ to love? To love for loves’ sake? No boundaries. No motives, no hidden agendas, no divisions. To just be the greatest giver of love (without intending to be)?

Why must we be ambitious about goals and materialistic things? I may be perfectly happy living my life without fighting for things and attention, reducing this constant need to struggle, to push, to compete; in order to be or have something deemed fit by society. Does that make me a loser?

We seem to have forgotten a most essential thing to our core – we are not defined by things we have/got/made/accomplished. Or in today’s world, by how many likes or followers we have. We are defined by who we are.
So really, who are you?

-Ramona Arena 2015.

Midnight Ramblings.

Sleepless in Ludhiana
With you on my mind.
I ought to be dreaming,
But my mind can’t leave you behind.

Won’t you allow me,
Just a bit of peaceful rest?
Must forced non-chalance
Be constantly put to the test?

How do I get through
All I want to say?
When you sit there locked up
In a soundproof room all day.

I need to stop
I must indulge slumber.
But if you’d like to get to know me,
You already have my number.

– RAMONA ARENA 2014.

To Bow Out.

Answers that I seek and want

Do their best to evade me

Another sunrise shows up

To taunt, humiliate me

My very existence

Is but a hollow drum

Broken strings

Warp a Gibsons perfect strum.

Beguiled,

Forlorn

Pages in the midst of my lifes story,

Gone.

Must we always finish each chapter

Or is it trivial paltriness

Market shares wouldn’t feel the plunge

Of a carefully crafted mess.

Unable to connect

Vacuous as death

Desperately floundering

Life, I’m bowing out of your test.