Lu Unfiltered

Category: Discomfort

  • Maroon

    unlike T Swift,I despise it.Call it burgundy,oxblood, oreven garnet. See, this colourtakes me backto a darkplace.A place offear, hurt,abandonment,heartbreak,in fact, near-totalannihilation. And this wasmore than twentyyears ago,and the doer ofthe deeds islong gone.The scarsare mostly healed,and tattooed over.Yet.Burgundy hasthe uncannyabilityto bring itall back.Short, staccatoflashbacksof a horror moviewhich was oncemy life. The camera swayingBlairWitch-like,the fear tearing…

  • People come

    and people go.Life ebbs andflows,and today’s necessityis tomorrow’sentirely optional. Why is this?Well, I suspectit’s due to severalrelated, yet differentthings.Yep, those thingsthat aren’t thingsat all. We learn,we grow,we open up to newexperiences,we decide whatwe want,and by association,what we don’t want. Slowly the message seeps in:you get to choose,and steer,and bring into thislife of yours, what youtruly…

  • Lately

    I’ve beenwondering,as to how the worldworks.Specifically myinner world.I’d describemyself as arational, sensibleperson.A nitpicking, listmaking,stickler-for-the-fine-printVirgo.Yet,there’s anotherside to me,and she’s wild.She pouts,refuses to do anydishes or houseworkwhatsoever,eats chocolatefor breakfast,and sneaks herdog under thecovers to cuddlefor extra warmth,simply ignoringthe early morningalarm. How is thispossible, I wonder?For IRL (in real life)there is not evena slim chance thatthese two disparatestrangerscould…

  • Today

    the lightcrept in, througha tiny crack.I slept better.I rememberedthat I knowgreat people,who are cheeringfor me to succeed,and flourish.I smiled at astranger.I exercised mybody.My spirit liftedand Ihave a plan.To getthere,to do thething.To makea difference,to shift,to leavea legacy,to sharethe messageI’ve beencarrying insideme,for so long,as it slowlyunfurled intosomething magicalover the lastdecade.So stand back,nah, lean IN,and watch this space.Great…

  • I’m currently

    in the in-between,a place notunlike the famousEagles’ Hotel California. I’m probablybetter thanok,here.Yet it’sa place I knowI cannot stayinforever. See,I have skillsto learn,and books togift theworld.I literally havea canoeto paddle.And muscleto build. I’m tiredthough. BecauseI’m also doingmy best tokeep up thefacade ofactually adulting.Theoreticallythis means thatI should be the bigger personand not poutwhen I loseat backgammon.Oops, I…

  • When

    the gremlinscome calling,they are scary, andcunning. They talk to us,in our own voices,knowing,we’ll believethe horrible thingsthey arethrowing around,their sole aimbeingtobask in oursorrow.They are gluttonsgrowing faton our fear,and shame,and the shadowsof ournot-good-enoughs. They prefer usweak,and small,and doubting.Oh howthey enjoythese things. And we canstay there. Hidingunder the bed,or in thecloset.Breathing hard,chest wetfrom our owntears. Or.We can simplycall…

  • Chapters

    in books are soeasyto spot.A neat titlepage,often also anindex upfront,indicating exactlywhen a new chapterstarts. Life is notlikethis.We oftenstumble fromday to day,only to lookback weeks,months, oreven yearslater,surprisedby aha momentsof new beginnings,changes inhowwe feel,and occasionallyeven whoweare. Why am Icallingthis outtoday?Well, it’sto remind myself,and you,that we areconstantly learningand growing.And thisincludes closingout oldchaptersin our livesto makespacefor newones… So looking…

  • Blissed out

    who knewthat thiswas evenathing.My bodyhumscontently.My mind isclear.My nervoussystem is dialledtoa deepforest green. Who knewyou would actuallycomeback,like you saidyouwould. Who knewwe couldpuzzle pieceour weekstogether,chatting andlaughing,while buildingthis ordinarylife,filling ourmarble jarto the brim.We bothknow therewill be withdrawals,and kinksin theroad ahead.There will bethick salty tearsin the back ofmy throat,and therewill alsobe more bliss,as we,the novicesstumbleforwardinto this randommagnificencewe continue to…

  • What are

    the storiesyou tell yourself,when you’realone in your bed?Or in thatdark placewe all go to hide,which also happensto hide ourlight? What arethe storiesyou tellyourselfwhen you’re ridingthe waveof unexpectedwindfalls andgrace? Have you perhaps,like me,forgotten thatyou are thesameperson, in boththese instances?Yet these strories,are very likelyto beuniversesapart. Why does thismatter, Dear One?It matters becausethe story setsthe course,it trims your…

  • The longing

    is real,and uncomfortable.Like beautifulstilettosthat are justa tiny bittoo tight…At some pointbittersweetshifts tounbearableand one hasto broker somerelease,or at leasttemporary respite. And while theprudent ormore togetherindividualsamong uswould advocatefor temperance,perhaps evencounselrestraint, orat the very least,quiet, modestsuffering,I have no suchqualmsand howllustily asI contemplatethe dire situationconstitutedby yourdistinct yetunfortunateabsence,knowing full wellthatthe heart wants exactly,whatthe heartwants:you. ~Lu