Issara Simone Edwards's Blog, page 5
August 17, 2022
Pixie or Witch?
Monday 29th of June 2020
A cosmic reshuffle. A cosmic unpicking. What does it feel like right now?
It feels like unpicking, examining each piece in me and seeing if I still need it, if I want it, throwing it away if I don’t, keeping it if I do. Although, I don’t know about the throwing away part yet, I’m still on the unpicking, I’m still examining. Why am I doing this? I don’t even know when I consciously started, when I found that old journal maybe? Before that?
I suppose this is the perfect time to do this, one shedding away on top of another.
Did you know I’ve been called a pixie my entire life. Apparently it’s because I’m small, or I make myself small, sitting cross legged in a corner or with my knees up to my chest, taking up the least amount of space possible. Put me in a room and I will find the corner. It’s also, apparently, because I’m quiet, I rarely speak, I walk quietly, no footfalls, I know how to step to not disturb a creaky floor. I can move from room to room with no one noticing, like a sneaky cat. When I do speak, my voice is soft and quiet, apparently my shouting voice is everyone else’s normal volume, I believe that. People are so loud, there’s no need for it really, I can hear you. But that might be a separate issue, my sister’s constantly telling me I have vampire hearing.
My point is, a pixie is a diminutive creature, with fragile, gossamer wings. They’re quite often described as curious but sly, shy creatures that prefer to spy on others. They hide, they lurk, they fear the world that’s so much bigger than them so stay separate from it. They can make themselves invisible and are therefore rarely seen by anyone.
Well, that does sound like me, but does it have to be me? Can I be something else now?
August 16, 2022
From A to B and all the detritus in between.
Saturday 28th of June 2020
From the outside the caterpillar in the cocoon looks like it’s doing nothing.
Unfold the map, let’s see where we are.
A few days ago I found something ‘Perfect’, an old journal from 2012 to 2015. I didn’t update it frequently, we weren’t close like you and me. Anyway, I read through some of it. It was painful… but enlightening. I learned a lot about why I’ve been stuck in procrastination mode. It made me look at all the things I’m still holding on to.
Finding this, reading this, has caused me to rethink some things, but as a rule, one should not make any big life decisions where you’re due on, so I’ll get back to them at a later date. But, what if…
What if all this insecurity, fear, anxiety, weakness, is a mask I’m wearing? Being small, being guilty, kept me safe, so it became a disguise I started to wear all the time.
What if I know who I am?
What if I believe in who I am?
What if I like who I am?
What if I’m confident?
What if I take this mask off?
August 14, 2022
God must love death.
Thursday 25th of June 2020
Bare feet on the ground, I’m connected to it all. I wake up and for a while I know who I am. I wake up and for a while I don’t know who I am.
I spent the day gardening, planted a tree. I wish we could touch, experience fingers to skin. Death must be so beautiful to those who are above it.
Tonight I’m perfect. Tonight my flaws are mine to own. What aspect will I be tomorrow?
Today I was happy. Can I have this all the time?
~
Either the world’s ending, or there’s fireworks… why? Who does fireworks on a random Thursday?
Saturday 27th of June 2020
Is anyone else obsessed with paper boats? Making them, setting them down in water, watching them float down stream? It’s like setting a wish free, it’s the potential for something. I’ve been thinking about this a lot.
I have a lot to tell you, but, it can keep for now.
Later.
August 10, 2022
Red Lips on a Dirty Floor
Wednesday 24th of June 2020
~ A conversation from the middle ~
‘… it’s kind of selfish in a way, and not selfish in another. As well as being a problem solving machine, the brain is also a pattern recognising machine. It recognises patterns and adapts accordingly. You blame yourself for everything, you take on everything because that’s the pattern you recognised as a child. If you took the blame, apologised, you would be treated nicely again. You need to stop taking other peoples issues on and you need to stop blaming yourself. Are you ready to do that?’
‘Yes.’
‘You’re not a child anymore, you don’t need to take everything on, you don’t need to be the responsible adult. You can be yourself now, you have permission. Absorbing the blame has been the easy path. If everything’s your fault then you’re the problem, you can change whatever it is about you that supposedly wrong and you don’t have to deal with any messy feelings of anger or hurt if it’s someone else, someone that you care about and want to care about you. If it’s all your fault, then it becomes your responsibility to fix it, to make everything better, you have the control, even if that control is only in your head. You’re done with that now. Enough with the easy path. If something’s your fault then fine, accept that, but if it’s not, let someone else take responsibility for once.’
August 9, 2022
“Trickster is Weak, Trickster is Meaningless”
Sunday 21st of June 2022
Is there a difference between surrendering and giving up? If there is, is it subtle yet gross, like the thin line between the silkiness and stickiness of a spider’s web?
My mother’s losing her sight and I see the rest of my life very clearly if it goes completely.
I’m selfish. I’m so selfish. Can I be selfish? Can I out run my future? I’m done being small, it’s not me, it never was. Can I surrender to who I am and not the blows being dealt?
August 8, 2022
Now Available!
https://society6.com/issara_simoneSome of the original photography, as featured in ‘Oceans and Dust: Poems for Loneliness’ is now available for sale society6.com/issara_simone
A Deep Dive
Friday 19th of June 2020
‘You were born fighting. It’s time to stop. Surrender.
‘You wear the Breath around your neck. It’s more than just a reminder to breathe, it’s surrender. It’s a reminder to move from one breath to the next, from one moment to the next, to stop projecting forward and seeing only what you don’t have. Be in this moment, this breath, and see what you have here.
‘Move from one breath to the next, one moment to the next. Surrender.’
I cut myself open and cut them out. Now there’s just an empty space, a gash in my chest from heart to stomach.
There are no external memories, no pieces of anyone I’ve held on to. Once I’ve been hurt by someone I erase them from my world. Friends, family, still living and breathing somewhere, but erased from existence in my little world. No photos, no keepsakes, no gifts or trinkets. Everything I own is mine, I erase all traces of their touch.
I don’t think I even get attached to people anymore, there’s nothing to erase if there was never anything there. It’s also comforting, in a way, to look around me and see only things that I’ve bought, or found or created, grown from seed, poured pieces of myself into. There have been points where I’ve only had myself and found strength in that.
I cut people out when they leave me behind, when they move on, because I can’t move on, I’m stuck. Now, I just have the gapping hole in me and a desperation to fill it with something, accolades, acknowledgement, success, whilst shutting people out so that no one else can take their places. No one else can fill me up then break my heart when they’re done with me.
I guess there’s a lesson there too, you shouldn’t rely on other people to fill those voids.
August 6, 2022
Orion Energy vs. Mars Energy.
Tuesday 16th of June 2020
There’s this concept that I’ve just discovered. Well, I’ve been hearing it for a while actually, I just didn’t want to believe it, and it all started with me wanting to rise above humanity. Because, to me, humanity has started to equal cruelty.
So, what am I talking about? Good morning, by the way. Did you sleep well? I’ve just got up and I feel exhausted. I made some ice tea though, would you like some? No?
The concept that I’ve been hearing is that some people have made ‘soul contracts’, pacts, with others, before they were born to incarnate together, (or around the same time) meet up and basically be each others enemies. Did I explain that well? Exhausted remember.
Basically, if you have an abusive parent, this theory says you both signed a contract agreeing to this. You sat down and said ‘You be the abuser, I’ll be the victim, so that we can both learn something from the experience.’ It’s a twisted concept, right? It’s saying, you asked for the abuse, planned it, orchestrated it, chose it. I’ll say this, it is all very Battlestar Galactica though, it’s all “All this had happened before and all this will happen again.” The players change but the story doesn’t, maybe last time you were the abuser and they were the victim.
So, naturally, I’ve been rejecting this idea. But, if I believe that there are people in my life that are here to show me how not to be, how not to treat others, is it so farfetched to believe that I or we arranged for them to play those roles? What if I did design my entire life, what if I designed all of this? What does that make me? What does that say about me? Does it make trying to rise above the idiocy and cruelty around me stupid, because I arranged for it to be there in the first place? Maybe I need it all, to develop and grow? Maybe. But does that also mean that I need to stop avoiding conflict? Maybe we’re all sheets of metal, we have to be melted in fire, battered with a hammer, drowned in oil and water in order to become a sword.
My go to defence has always been to protect myself as best I can, keep my mouth shut, as best I can, keep my head down and my eyes averted. Take the beatings when I can’t avoid them, don’t fight back, don’t argue, do my best to appear grateful for the lesson, then pretend it never happened at all. Did I learn the wrong lessons from my teachers because I don’t think I’ve developed and grown in the way I was supposed to?
Song of the Morning: ‘Bad, bad, bad’ – Ramsey.
The egg is cracking…
August 4, 2022
My World is So Much Bigger… a poem.
Monday 15th of June 2020
My world is so much bigger than…
~
My world is so much bigger than your pettiness, your small mindedness, your ignorance.
My world is so much bigger than your fear, your intolerance, your stupidity.
My world is so much bigger than your contempt, your hatred, your cowardice.
My world is so much bigger than you.
What did you do today?
Did you question your reality, see something in a new way, alter an opinion?
Did you help anyone today, share an idea, a thought, a concept unique to you?
What have you read this year, what insights did you gather?
Did it expand your mind, ignite a spark in you?
Is that fire still burning?
What have you seen that’s changed you?
What depths did you explore?
My world is infinite, how big is yours?
~
This is where it all begins…
August 2, 2022
Thought Thinking About Itself.
Saturday 13th of June 2020
We’ve got a lot to get through and make into sense, so let’s not waste time.
Let’s start with a dream, don’t worry, I’ll keep it short. A guy, gruff looking, think America trucker, baseball cap and all was oddly enough, driving a truck. Next to him, in the passenger seat was a little girl, think Doctor Who, family of blood episode. She turns to him and says, ‘I’m not here to change the world, I’m here to change people, and they’ll change the world.’ Then a vehicle crashes into them, crushes the little girl to death but leaving the man unharmed. What do you think it means?
The brain, at its most simple, is a problem solving machine. It’s one of the reasons I get stuck in my head so much, stuck in an never ending punishment loop of trying to figure people out, trying to translate their insanity into logic, into data that makes sense to me.
Sunday 14th of June 2020
There’s always a voice in your head telling you you can, even when the world is screaming at you that you can’t. That’s the problem.
I had to throw out that yellow pencil, well, I chose to. It kept breaking, and I’m not dealing with weak graphite, I refuse to.
This new pencil is black, a much better colour.
I was told I have germs today, in a jokey way that you can tell isn’t really a joke. We’re in a weird world and people’s natural crappiness is rising to the surface. All these little things, and all these big things, it takes a toll.
So, let’s make a plan. There are going to be bad days, when the screaming of the world wins and peoples cruelty, intentional or other wise infects us, and that’s okay. We’ll call them rest days.
I saw this insta post that described depression as ‘deep-rest’, depressed, deep rest, and I liked it. I always feel guilty when I’m depressed, when it wins and gets the better of me, but what if…
What if I accept that I’m not like everyone else around me?
What if I ignore their attempts to reshape me to a form that they can accept and understand?
What if I stop forcing myself into a shape that doesn’t fit me?
What if I accept that I need rest days, that I might get to where I want to go slower because of this, but I will get there?
What if I can have whatever life I want to, despite what anyone else has to say about it?
Doesn’t that sound like a solid, but flexible plan, something to hold on to?
I’ve always assumed that in any given situation that I’m the problem, because, well, maths, I’m the common denominator. But what if I’m not? What if I’m just surrounded by crappy people? What if I’m the woman in every daytime TV movie that’s just always attracting the abusive partner? She isn’t really the problem she just hasn’t realise that she has a right to better.
