10.04.2017, 21:56:28

tell me all your secrets, and I’ll share some of mine.

maybe I’ll tell you how my cheeks feel raw on the inside, riddled with anxiety and nervous habit, or how sometimes I’m scared people will walk away when they realize my life isn’t as picturesque as the Instagram feed I prep. maybe I’d tell you about this bursting, bright yellow kind of love I’ve never felt before and just how happy and full everyone around me is, or how I’d never trade in my broken pieces for poker chips with the words like “should have” or “what if” scrawled in red.

tell me all your secrets, and I’ll gladly tell you all of mine.
-cv.

10.04.2017, 21:49:39

didn’t you know?
that you were always loved,
always worthy,
always purposed,
always enough?

didn’t you know?
that you were dreamed up before time began,
powerful beyond measure,
a place he named home from the start?

-cv.

07.04.2017, 12:55:57

darling, if no one else reads the words-
but we both know you need them most-
know this:
you are needed.
your words are needed.
now more than ever.
do away with being “fine”,
a “good” mood.
rip away the cellophane cover,
the sound-proof mask,
expose the cracks
that we hide behind-
that you hide behind.

it starts with you.
-cv.

07.04.2017, 12:51:51

here, I smell the coffee roast,burn.
the wind outside flutters against light blue-grey jackets,
and I’ll pretend I won’t feel it in a second.

I lifted the wooden shutters,
to create light to feel light.
to breathe a little easier.

the to-do list gets checked off,
emails get sent back and forth,
and I think about this moment.

How peaceful it seems.
Here we are, writing, typing,
with white headphones in our ears.

But what we all need is each other, not more busyness.
-cv.

13.03.2017, 21:51:47

thoughts + mental ramblings, part two:

Feelings. Mmm, my favourite. They can be crippling and freeing– both within seconds of each other. It fascinates me, really: how powerful our emotions are should we allow ourselves to be controlled by them and let them have the final say.

Life, circumstances and, really, every day teaches me new things about the world and its people in it. It’s a beautiful thing to feel so deeply. To have the highs and lows. To conquer a depression so weighty you thought you wouldn’t live through it. To see the stitched-together scars inking your story in redemptive tones. To understand that everything was necessary to point the compass to where your feet find home.

And that, right here, you are enough.
And this is God’s best for you, now.

I’ve learned how to live in moments, one after another. When it comes to feelings, fruit and danger though, I’d like to untangle some of my jumbled thoughts here. So bear with me, friend.

Something Leo has pointed out on numerous occasions is my ability to see a story from all angles. But not only to shift my perspective, like an omnipresent narrator, but to fully embrace the feelings involved. Simply being objective or taking on the second person pov isn’t my piece of pie. I dive fully into the first person character, naive and believing the best in others.

Maybe it’s because I believe everyone is an ocean, each different and so much deeper than the shallow, superficial scratches people tend to talk about. Entering someone’s own personal ocean entails fully submerging yourself, and that includes the possible emotions that might flood your way.

You absorb them, and they become your own. Yeah, it’s confusing to me too.

I’m not sharing this as a boast to boost myself in the holier-than-thou books or make myself sound like a spiritual guru. Far from it. All I know is I tend to feel emotions all at once and then process them as time goes on.

Stories become real to me. People become dear to me.

And I walk around holding remnants of peoples’ hearts in my sleeve, and I leave pieces of them everywhere I go. It’s uncanny, but I think it’s true. It sounds poetic and endearing, but I think it can quickly become unhealthy and dangerous if I’m not careful.

Because if I let my feelings rule, I can be bleeding others’ tears and bad-blood that was never ‘bad’ at all. Maybe somewhere along the way, instead of simply defining the claw-shaped smears as violent or ridiculous, we might stop to see it differently, deeper: someone broke.

The organ that held life-pumped, rhythm-echoing arteries tore a bit. Maybe it was a paper cut, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt. We get squeamish and we gag at bloody fingers and bruised knees, but we forget that something had to break– someone’s heart got busted– in the process.

So I try to live with this awareness.
I try to love people the way I would want to be loved.
I believe in starting over.
I believe in healthy relationships and sharing feelings.

Feeling with others is a beautiful process. It can weigh heavy, yeah, but when done right and with the right people surrounding you, it’s always worth it.

What do you think?
-cv.

13.03.2017, 21:19:27

some of today’s thoughts and mental ramblings put into words, part 1:

I feel sooo deeply. it makes me cringe sometimes, to be honest. But, somewhere along the road of insecurity and confidence, I’ve come to associate myself with certain words that feel like they hold some sort of revelation about who I am. Words like “feeler, empath, highly sensitive individual, introvert, INFJ”.

Anyone who spends any sort of time with me knows I’m a bit obsessed with that last one..

I’ve often felt misunderstood by others and strangers'(ex. who know of me via another person) perception of me. Let me roll it on back and put out a disclaimer: in no way am I implying that’s a negative, nor do I write for your pity vote. Reason being the following. I’ve also come to realize that I don’t see the world the same way some people do, and that it’s more than fine — it’s good.

There’s nothing wrong with you if you choose a dustier road, unearthed by your lone footprints. It feels like that sometimes, doesn’t it? And yeah, I mean, maybe I write this as a self-justification, but I’ve seen the fruit. I’ve also experienced the dangers.

Introspection has become a big part of how I process everything, everyone.

I wrote a little something over at a joint Instagram account that my Leo and I write together. I mentioned a bit about how much I love pondering people’s stories. Here’s where I’ll leave this blog-y ramble: it can be really difficult to spot dangerous fruit, because I think I believe that anything and all can be good, but it depends on our perspective. It depends on how long you hold it out in front of you; if you let it ripen in the sun or rot in a cellar.

You see, I think we have enough power to turn good things into bad things.