Phototherapy

DSC00103

I’m still a beginner with taking pictures. I just bought a new camera a few weeks ago with the intent of taking pictures of anything and everything.

I find that inbetween Therapy sessions, photography helps bring my creative side out. There are only so many outlets that help me and the lense is one.

This picture could have been taken better, but it shows a place I grew up. Pictures tell a thousand words.

Advertisements

Mom, dad, I’m your son.

Mom, dad, it’s as though you have three sons instead of two and one daughter
Was what I said to my parents before I realized I was who I am today
Although I may have said it in a joking way, I was being serious
And maybe, just maybe, I’ll say it again to them
And maybe, just maybe, I can tell them that every time they say ” I love you…. but…” that the ” but ” only encourages me back into the closet I forgot existed besides the one I store my clothes in
So dark, so full of confusion and self hatred
They may be confused, but so am I at times
But they still have a child, just a slightly differently version
They didn’t lose a daughter, they just lost the label
They gained a son

Awakened Stamps

When I was a little boy, I was a girl                                                                                                                                                 who enjoyed the presence of dinky cars and                                                                                                                                   ninja turtles pizza shooting toys

Hanging around girls is where you could usually find me                                                                                                           getting excited                                                                                                                                                                               liberated by the thought of people seeing me                                                                                                                               how I felt inside and wondering how I got mixed among the company of the opposite sex

It wasn’t until my hips widened and my given labels made me feel dysphoric                                                                             before I realized what Dysphoric meant                                                                                                                                           that I came to the realization that I was not the stamp that was implanted                                                                                     upon my very being nor did I really fit under one category of personality                                                                                     but too fluid to even have one word to be the definition of

Dying to get a taste of life.

sunset

Earlier I was out longboarding, just as usual, nothing different. Just lit a cigarette, had my music playing from my phone and pushed my feet off the ground repeatedly to gain speed.

What surrounded me was the same as it always is around this time of the year. Trees blossoming with pretty flowers, colours blended intogether, mosquitos quenching blood and the fresh sent of fall. I’ve seen the same things aorund me for the past 25 years of my life.

But something felt different, everything looked the same, but they felt different. Was it that I was longboarding a bit later than I usually do, or the the sunset fell later than it normally does, or were the wheels of my longboard slowing down?

Do you ever go somewhere you’ve been numerous times before, nothing physically has changed, but you feel change, like some sort of small aspect has changed your outloud on what you see?

I believe that’s what happened, I started appreciating what I saw in that moment. I saw tiny little aspects, I disected the different colours of the sunset, noticed where the mosquitos and other bugs laid to rest and how settle it made me feel in that moment.

It was as though, my worries, my past didn’t haunt me, but settled me and I felt it. I didn’t feel like dying was the answer, but living was.

Balanced Honesty

I like that you’re honest

I’m honest to the point of putting people down though

Why are you beating yourself up over being so honest?

Because I’ve destroyed some of the best relationships I’ve ever had because of being too honest

Yeah but…

No buts, this is how I feel, and I feel as though I’ve gone too far sometimes. I’ve gotten myself out of sticky situations by being too honest, but I’ve also created more problems by being said way.

Then lie sometimes

I have, and I’ve even been through a spell where I’d lie so much that I no longr felt guilt and then whenever I’d tell the truth afterwards, I started thinking that my truth was just another lie and there was no balance between the two.

Sometimes I’m glad that I am brutally honest. I hate it at the same time because I feel this very strong impulse to be mean through being honest and I struggle with that.

I will find a balance, I will and I will be okay.

Therepuetic Awakening

I’m feeling some type, sort of way

Regarding the embers that burst around us, or was it all in my head darling?

I hear things that I only want you to know

Embracing what I’ve ever told you, maybe you’ll still hold onto the way I think

There’s fires that have replaced the settle sparks

Medicated is what you suggested as some type of therapy, be my therapist

Your words are and always will be spilt with more organization than my very own

Broken are we together, but fixed we won’t be apart

One might read this and think we are lovers, just friends though, I guess

Shaken is the voice that escapes my esophagus, you’re still hear listening

While my hands are drenched with yesterday’s troubles, I’m still breathing

Dead is what I wanted, thought I needed, but you read my like a book and believe otherwise

Walking around I am, with nothing but solidarity, I’m still here and so are you

Body language to me is louder than the words flowing from peoples’ mouths.

This may sound creepy and or strange to most people, but I’ve actually met quite a few people who enjoy doing this as well. People watching is what I am referring to. Not necessarily staring as a way of being creepy, even if it appears to be by the people walking by.

I’ve been people watching for as long as I can remember. I’m not great with depicting which age I was at which part of my life, but I was younger.

It;s one of the things I do for passing the time. All I do is I could be at a mall, or at a park, sitting and listening to music and I just watch how people interact with one another, how they react to seeing other people looing at them, the way they run for a bus that is late, the way their eyes dart across the pages of a book, how fast their fingers move across their phone or tablet screens.

I don’t know why, but it’s my way of learning about people, the different types of people who are out there without exactly interacting with them. I’m socially awkward most of the time, and it’s just calming for me.

It helps me with picking apart the language of people’s bodies without them even speaking. Body language speaks louder to me than the actual act of using my ears to listen.

It’s actually not as creepy as it sounds. You’ll be surprised as to how many people do this, and it’s harmless in my eyes.