Fragments of a Female Consciousness….

nothing more than neurotic & divinely chaotic thoughts.

Dear diary. I have something to say. I have something to fucking say!!!!

Dear diary. I have something to say. I have something to fucking say!!!!

Tell me everything he said. Tell me often and always he said. Smother me he said……….

I dont think he or I were prepared for the gates those few words opened. It was just permission. Just permission. Nothing more. Permission to to be me. Someone else letting me know its ok to let go. Ok to be honest, ok to be you.

Those few words gave way to a constant flow of beautiful, divine and chaotic thoughts. My thoughts were like sand, flowing into my consciousness and just as quickly slipping out of my fingers.

They have always been there, like a constant noise in my head. Ive just learnt to reconcile the chaos up there, by locking it all away. By smiling. By keeping it all hidden, by putting it all to sleep, by convincing my self that perhaps its gone away. The noise. Oh the noise however always remains.

Poor stranger across the sea, didn’t know what hit him. A constant flow of my fragmented female consciousness. My pain & my beauty and my fucked up head. I was like a death swallow. Dying to fly, dying to spread my black wings. Dying to let go. And my words came down like the rain, words to a dear stranger across the sea. But its not about my dear stranger, not about you or he, really its not. In this moment selfishly its all about me. Yes I said that. For once in my life Dear Diary its all about fucking me.

Its not about what I’m supposed to do, not what I’m supposed to say, or who I’m supposed to be, Its not about where I can not go or what I can not do. Its not about you. Its not about being a grown up, which in particular situations I swear I am. Its not about being a mother and all of the things we need to do. Today right now this is all about me.

You don’t have to read. Your under no obligation. Your not a captive audience. Its just me and a screen, just me and my words, Dear Diary its all just me, me and you.

I have so much to say. It doesn’t matter if no one cares to listen. Here, I am anonymous. Here, I am nobody. Here, I am my authentic self. Here, in this moment, I am thankfully not afflicted with the need to give a fuck what you think. Here I am me.

Dear Diary, I lay before you the totality of my fragmented female consciousness. Do with it what you will.

Sincerely,
DC

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