Unloved

For the first time in many years, my head feels clean. No emotion clouds my judgement and I can see. Clearly, for once finally. But there is nothing to see at all. I don't know what I am meant for yet, but there is peace I have suddenly come to know with my sense of being. With both who and what I have been made to become. Being okay is very important. The situation of constant internal struggle, endless longing has left me without a notice. And I am okay with the way I am. The folds in my belly, the way my kohl smudges, the way my hair coils. Every flaw, I am okay with. I am being real here, I am being dealt with as I am real. Befittingly.

I have left my desires far behind. I don't need them anymore. There is no unrelenting urge to be somewhere with someone for some reason. There is no reason. For anything. The way my flesh sits on earth, the way I displace the exact volume of air as my body, never stood as unchained from every other reason of existence as I yearned for as now.

I have broken the vicious circle of sorrow. I overshot it, by some large unintelligent margin and now I am floating in space. Yeah  

I just might have become un-fuckin-touchable, as someone had said. I am for keeps.

Now playing: Beethoven - Fur Elise.