The seed

When I decided to turn my back to the sun
and make myself small enough
to fit into the cold and moist ground
where I could hide from it,
I didn't realise that the sun would still continue to exist
and shine its way towards me.

I tried to sit still and hidden
thinking maybe it won't find me
and I would have had me for myself for the winter,
forgetting death doesn't last
as much as I would want it to.

As I have planted myself once again
in what I thought was frozen soil
I began to feel the warmth of life melting over me
and I drowned in my own fear.

My shell then cracked into a thousand pieces
and the pain made me sprout out of the ground
leaving me fearless and naked into the morning light.

I looked up and found that the sun was still there,
Waiting patiently for my return.

But when I tried to stand tall in gratitude
my roots clenched deeper into the ground
reminding me of where and who I am supposed to be.

They must've forgotten they were part of me,
and since I've already been dead
I've learned that there is nothing worse
than being alive without living.

For I am made of ground and stars
And I was born in love and light.
The Earth is my nourishing mother
And the Sun is my protective father
And I am all that is in between.

Today I got expelled out of nature's rotting womb into the coldness and immorality of the ignorant society, and got raised by docile wolves who've forgotten how to hunt, spending their existance on filthy infected needles while staring at the sky with their mouths open, in hope that something will, someday fall out of the sky to fill their insatiable guts up to the empty pots that took place of their hearts. The fire is there, there's no need for ignition as it has always been burning, waiting.
But I am just a tube that brings nothing but changing drafts to their fire, as I am as empty as their hearts, disowning everything I am and I have, for I have nothing and I am nothing but a black hole, sucking the world's joy and pain in, trying to live off it, although my hunger too, never ends. All the bliss and the struggle that exists could never fill me up, for I feel it, but I don't understand it. So I watch the sun and the earth trying to feed me in despair, trying to breathe life into me, but there is nothing to breathe into, as long as I am not there.

Everytime I leave
I feel like I forget something.
I check my money,
my phone,
my cigarettes,
my keys-
they're all in place.
I only realise later on
through my journey
that I forgot to take
my heart.

Don't fight
for what you love.
Better yet
Don't fight for anything
In life,
Just float around.
Let the blowing wind
Carry you,
Then get mad at it.

Live without passion
And live without love.
For what good is love
If it runs from you?
Love should always stay
No matter if you
Burn it down
Or push it away.

Contrast

When you have an experience of any kind, don't forget about the contrast of it.
Is light without the darkness surrounding it still light?
Is love without the fear of losing it still love? If you've never had it, you don't know it's missing.
The hardness of a tree trunk is given by the softness of the hand that is touching it.
The guilt one feels is given by the empathy that rises from hurting another.
Egoism is hidden in altruism when expecting appreciation.
Loneliness is what follows a deep connection.
The awareness of "bad" feelings is proportional felt with the unawareness of good times.

Breaking habits

Routine: a set of customary or unchanging and often mechanically performed activities or procedures. Think about that for a minute. Think about it now, because you sure don't do it while you compulsively do the same thing over and over again every day, just because you're used to do it. Because it's part of your life, part of who you are, right? 

Wrong. We often get confused about who we really are. Do you let your routines define you as a person? If you do, what do you think will happen once you have to break one of these habits? Are you less of who you think you are? And if most of your routines are shared with one person, things can get even worse.

We get attached to our routines. We attach to them so badly we often confuse them for being more than they are. We identify with our habits to the extent that it hurts when we have to brake them. And there's no exception when it comes to shared routines. 

One thing that most people don't notice when it comes to relationships is the bond we create through routine. Whether it's healthy or unhealthy, whether it feels really good or really bad, it's something we might have identified with. And breaking this chain can feel like you've been torn apart into pieces and you have to pick them up and rebuild yourself.

You're not broken. It might hurt, but it can heal. You are so much more than your disintegrating shell. And if your shell is breaking, it might be so you can focus on what's hidden within. 

Think of this situation like having a blank canvas you can put something new on. Point 0. A place where you can grow. This time you can do it by yourself, so it would most likely be your choice if you decide to break a habit or not. Once you gain the understanding of routine attachment and add a little mindfulness to it, it should get easier.