What it takes to be yourself?

 

”Once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”

– Margery Williams

 

Hello, dear readers!

I read yesterday a story called “The Velveteen Rabbit” and I wanted to share with you a short paragraph from it. In my eyes, it’s about becoming authentic in life. I will let the paragraph speak for itself. Enjoy 🙂

“What is REAL?” “Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.

“Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. “When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.”

“Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,” he asked, “or bit by bit?”

“It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse. “You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”

― Margery Williams, The Velveteen Rabbit

Lots of love and always remember – be authentic each passing day. You can never get ugly, only more beautiful.

Hugs,

Mădălina Dan

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The girl who has no name

Image source: https://www.pinterest.ca/pin/229331806004035701/

I love this poem because it’s different from everything I’ve written before. It’s me experimenting with words, making stuff up inside my head and just imagining different outcomes. Basically, it’s that moment when you think about living a darker life, but you know you won’t, so you write about it. Hope you like this poem, I really love it, although I’m not this kind of girl.

I hold my sadness in both hands
And I need new words to describe this crippling amnesia:
The moment when you unraveled the mystery that is my skin…
Our forbidden truths, half-lies
Danger and ecstasy all in one cup…
I felt alive….in your arms.
’’Love me’’, I said as I went down into the ground
To experience a deathless death…
You resurrected me back to life with your addictive touch
And now I’m a demon who wants your blood
Who craves your parts.
I need new words to describe that:
Being a mistress feels so wrong that I forgot how it’s like to be right
’’Kiss my neck,
Make my body sweat
I’ll forget when I wake
That you do not love me.”
”I’m only an extension of your skin, I’m only here for the kill, for the thrill
When in fact I hate myself.”
”Tell me that you love me, lie to me again
‘Cause in the morning
I’ll live to see the end.’’

The day you broke my heart

The day you broke my heart,
I understood
that pain was not only a mere feeling,
but a complex of emotions
hiding in someone’s heart,
waiting to be discovered.

The day you broke my heart,
I felt the sting of the rain on my cheeks
and the whole world turned
into an unleashed hurricane,
waiting to strike the coast of my silver heart.

The day you broke my heart,
I understood
that love poems were as real as you and me
and that feelings were mine only,
not yours.

The day you broke my heart,
I understood
that sometimes the world will crumble to pieces
and that you would be unable to do anything, but watch,
because your heart it’s not beating like it used to
and you can’t face the pain.

The day you broke my heart,
I understood
that fairytales don’t exist in  reality
and that perfection is unattainable in life.
I stopped believing in prince charming,
because I knew that he would never break your heart,
since he wasn’t real.

The day you broke my heart,
I understood
that love can turn people cold
due to so much suffering.

The day you broke my heart,
I understood
how it is like to look at someone
and feel nothing, just dead inside,
because I was numbing my feelings.

The day you broke my heart,
I understood
that someone could damage you beyond repairing
and you would still love them
with all the broken pieces.

 

The day you broke my heart,
I understood
what true love is all about.
And guess what?
It’s all about freedom.