As a counsellor I can say that it has been reasonably common for clients to bring this experience to a session. I think when we are being creative we make space for all our unprocessed stuff to pop up.
Oof, I related to this very heavily. A lot of things we hold inside seems to rush forward when we let our creativity flow. It's almost like we store those parts alongside it, or draw partly from there, too.
We build parts of our stories built on the life we have lived after all.
I almost didn’t post this because it felt a little strange to explain.
Curious if anyone else has ever had something like this happen while writing or remembering.
As a counsellor I can say that it has been reasonably common for clients to bring this experience to a session. I think when we are being creative we make space for all our unprocessed stuff to pop up.
That makes a lot of sense. thank you, it definitely felt that way.
Oof, I related to this very heavily. A lot of things we hold inside seems to rush forward when we let our creativity flow. It's almost like we store those parts alongside it, or draw partly from there, too.
We build parts of our stories built on the life we have lived after all.
Beautiful, work. Sending you much love. ❤️
I relate. There's much we brush off as normal or normal enough. Even when they are not. We don't want to believe it.
It makes sense 🫶🏼
thanks so much for reading 💜
I needed Kevin in it, made it all even more meaningful.
everyone needs a Kevin!!! ❤️💜💙
🏅best hugs / best friends /
And an unfortunate period of
Batshit Crazy in Las Vegas
Turning point,
I looked a junkie
But I wasn't
Actually, I still ate mostly
Plants and juices
Probably would have taken me
To a center back then we the
Two owls started calling,
In murdered, syncopated
Beats
Fingers always tapping under the table.
He was curious. Yes.
He asked good questions,
And checked in for reciprocity
Actually, she knew he was the
Only person she actually needed
And she said, "I got this. I 👁️ so clearly. Again and again until it turns out she
Wasn't.
His type. Maybe cancer and the Black Flag had made her too boring.
No more festivals,
No more plans
Except him icing the shit out of my hands,
Something more sinister,
Maybe
But he did offer sexy saunas, and knew when to leave me cool in the crisp pool
Of recognition
They showed up more than anyone.
@karen__gaar second 🥈
And they wrote Christmas
Cards that still break my
Cuore-
#divato
#amato
#amores
#dareme
"Keep me a light on,
Or its your specific
Scarf, and stupid
But eddective
Beanie.
It was the only thing that warmed me for approximately 12hrs until Monday morning,
Who fired first?
Doesn't matter.
We both died
Now I'm a powerhouse swimmer
Painting over new memories
Ti celebrate that AI does not
Think I'm manic.
Just deficient in potassium. That was always the problem
Should probably get out
Of this lobster festival
And go date my
-tennis teacher who is comfortable as the executive. He drops all the C class suites.
The private jets.
Retired a while
Ago
Wants to take me to dinner
I forget, show up sweaty
He says I'm the best
Smelling lady in
This tapas bar
I touch his arm.
We have established
That we are both human
And can identify personal
Faults without prompting
This is really intense, and really beautiful in parts. I don’t know that I fully understand all of it, but I can feel it.
It feels like one of those chapters where everything is a lot, and then something shifts and you’re not the same after.
I’m really glad you shared this.