“January, please be soft. Be the taste of redemption my fingers have been yearning for. I expect you to be audacious like the first words of a prayer. Please be a healing component. Though I am not in pain, learn my body how to heal anyway. Hypnotise me like the waves of your sea into new beginnings. Please be confronting. Help me face my naked truth. Cleanse my vision on the parts of me I am taking with me and the parts I am kissing goodbye. Guide me into the right mindset in order for me to welcome your eleven soulmates with wide and open arms. Please be the antidote to old habits. Let the healor in me outbalance the intoxicator. January, please be gentle and meek. January, please be soft.”
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unlearning is never pleasant—it’s uncomfortable in fact. it’s purposely choosing discomfort over a distorted pattern representing home. unlearning is heavy because it requires destruction, something that feels like the vandalisation of the reflexes from muscle to bone—hell, unlearning feels damn alone. how do i turn my back on what i know feels safe? how do i convince my body it’s for a good cause? how do i remind myself of the bigger picture, when the comfort zone i left behind is all i can think of? unlearning is growing pains, soreness of the mind. feeling like against your nature you’re rebelling, while in fact you and your purpose are starting to align.
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heart-wrenching, powerful, and so personal.
Aw thank you🥰
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