🌹M. and her Truth🌹

🌹M. and her Truth🌹

It is almost 3 years since she is gone. Everytime she visits me, her appearance is different. I often wonder if it's just my sight. Maybe my constantly changing or more likely decreasing judgement. As I wish- no judgment at all. 

I knew her since I was a child. She would visit us every so often.

Bribe with gifts then as well as freeze with fear.

Her colour purple. Her nails always neat. 

I must say after years of misjudgment I envy her. I envy a possiblity of speaking her truth. In most of the times very brutal and by recipient strongly unwanted to hear. 

It made her an army of lifetime enemies.

At least she was never a part of the ridiculous act of a repulsive fake kindness after all.

Of course, I do not suggest that being a mean persona is something I long for in our society. Quite opposite, but that's not the point.

She paid a great price for it, in fact, the greatest of all- her own life. 

So that's where the question arise.

Is it really that bad to share our own feelings, thoughts, views? Where is that magic border which would tell us what is appropriate or not? How do we know? Who decides?

I only wonder if the whole process of suffer on this planet would end if we face it?

Acknowledging how we really are, who we really are? Therefore would it bring us into light? Bring us back home?

So often we hear a whisper of a dark matter, straying us away. Placing into nothing.

We all experience that. 

Yet, do we hear the sound in stillness, or at least acknowledge it's existence?