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Two immense ships collide in the peaked waves of turbulent seas. Wreckage scattered across the hull and where the deck used to lie: bits of broken dreams in hopes of pink skies. The captain is lost in silent thought and disappointment as he sees his beloved instrument torn and twisted. Bent to disarray with no hope of salvage. He cannot do it again. His strong hands with eager reverie all too quick to rebuild the fragmented core still showed youth and vigour.  Yet his heart, too battered and bruised could not fully accept his hands will. In that instance, he had forgotten his purpose. The haste and longing to be a part of his fleet once more-the camaraderie of kinship and sweet melodic rhythms of the seas failed to lull his mind as he floated softly away.....
Carabella Jun 17
You found my video.

It wasn't that bad: yes, a bit awkward but I had never done that before.
You laughed at me... said I looked like a drug addict... Then you said it was just a joke - that you were having a giggle.... That I am too wrapped up in myself.

Why do I care so much? Why does it bother me to have your acceptance? Why do I look for other's approval instead of valuing my own opinion?

I am doing the self work: these questions I ask myself and allow the subconscious and conscious mind to guide.

I care because I love you.  Why do I love you?
Carabella Jun 12
After years of sharing your life with someone: all thoughts, laughter, and sorrow;
You sit back in fear of the unknown,
What will you think: who will you be tomorrow?
You bare your soul on an email because when you say the words out loud, It’s as though someone else is speaking.

But I want to hear you speak even if your voice shakes.
As words sputter and breath is scarce;
I want to see the shame and failure on your face...
I need to know you once had loved me for goodness sake....
You walk in jovial from work, like nothing had taken place.
The presence of our once happy union-too soon will be erased.
You sat down and poured a glass of whiskey: letting go really isn’t that hard.... it would seem.
Carabella Jun 5
It's with great optimism that one day my fellow primates may realise just how fortunate their lives are. With love and education being the driving force, continuing progress. Treating each other with the same respect that we individually demand yet understand the rhetoric that we have been taught to be true is untrue. It is here where we are not alone. Phantasmagorically searching for our happiness and rest. We are a species nothing more; that can and will determine the future of our existence..our place in the cosmos. Such a responsibility.....treat it as such.
Carabella May 4
The one thing that we humans  possess is a consciousness; however weak or profound  is the life that we have. Our machinations so rich; so vibrant.. Our dreams are nothing more than what we are or have  experienced.. We are Star on a pale blue dot; gliding or falling; expanding or contracting. Relative to our  place or position, wherever that may be. In time or relevance. In shape or sound. In sight or wave... This is you....and  so much more.......
Carabella Apr 30
Let me tell you a story of a girl...
She was born in a small quaint town in the hills of the Appalachians. From a young age she witnessed a many tragedy. The appeasement of feminine power to the masculine. The absurdity in separation of dogma. The fruitlessness of quarrels. The ugliness of racism... She often fled to the woods in hope to find peace. She found it; sheltered neatly in the wild surrounds,  she dreamt of what life would have been like when dinosaurs roamed and nature ruled. Before mans ideologies and fear mongering. She climbed over fallen trees and rustled through the crumpled leaves that lined the forest floor. She tasted of the plants and learned of their unique qualities. The sweet taste of honeysuckle. How sometimes she would meet some plants that would sting with subtle harshness; itch and inflame the skin; though in such a non personal way. She never feared nature... no mountain lion, bear, or snake... they were her and she were they; the source energy-Prana, QI, whatever title you’d like to give it. She was free up there; in the undulating foliage. Amongst the the pine and rhododendrons. What happened to that girl? To the wonderfully connected free spirit? Fast forward ten years and she is but a fraction of that girl. Although she has grown older; the distance widens. She cares less about escaping into the woods and befalls comfort in chemicals. The high that she once found in the shades of deep red, glowing orange, vibrant yellow-the colours of fall... now she seeks to find them in bottles of poison, pharmaceuticals... it can only lead to her downfall; and it did... time and time again she seeks this empty void. She separates herself even further from nature and throws herself into the vacant trap of slavery. Slavery of course, being the imaginary cage you settle into. Money, accolades, success.... Stress becomes the norm and the wonderful world that she had once imagined becomes complete fairy stories.... made for children... lost amongst mortgages, consumption, and failure... On one fated morning she awakes from a deep sleep. The world was no longer how she had left it the previous night. Something had changed. She no longer cared about the surface; the thing that caused her to escape and fear. She searched relentlessly for meaning; the meaning of life and purpose. She found herself once again, seeking nature to provide the answers. She remembered all the books her mother had read. Tapped into a higher state of consciousness not known to her before. She was led to the esoteric world; of tarot and energy healers. She partook in their gifts with an open mind and heart. What she experienced was unique; and powerful. She felt a great need for healing; herself and the world. She reached out to all forms of mysticism and magic. For the mysteries of the natural world became more fascinating than fiction. She set about understanding more than surface knowledge and began diving deep into the astral body. That is where she exists now... in the present.
Carabella Apr 8
Someone had to hold the mirror up to you at some point,  and show you the magnificent being that exists within your reflection. I am humbled to have held the mirror for you.
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