soft-voice-in-the-void

[soft-voice-in-the-void]

Issue 20 - Upper Middle Class

It's tough keeping up with the Joneses.

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Bubbling to the surface

Slightest whispers set it off

How fragile is this heart of mine?

To keep keeping on

To forgo it all and let it drown on gasping breaths

Loved in the only way I know

How fragile is this mind of mine?

Invisible strings binding it together

Severing it all, knowing death and decay

Rebirth cannot reform these losses for imagined gains

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Actions speak louder than words so you held my hand in public.

The pen is mightier than the sword so you asked me if I hated you.

You showed me love whilst telling me you were a bad man.

Were your words carved into my heart with a sword?

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That's the problem, everything is everywhere and I don't have a place to hide away with my thoughts.

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I forgot about the place where there was no one that would worry about fitting the shoes to the bodies that uttered words so contempt that my soul quivered.

So I came crawling back, remembering that here in this place away from it all, I have solace. I have comfort in knowing that the words I click away will be nothing more or everything to someone out there.

So to you stranger that I pen these thoughts to, I propose...

When my echoed screams were met with nought and pain stretched out from my gut and through my mouth. When my body writhed on the floor begging for the inexplicable torture to end, did it not cross your mind to ask if I was okay? Fine. You were busy and comforting the scared children. The next moment when I said goodbye, could you not ask if I was okay? Fine. You were busy. The next day, when I was due to go to the hospital, was it too much a burden to ask how I was? Alas, you were worried if it would be okay. When I arrived at work later in the day, did it cross your mind to check in? Sigh, apparently I was in my zone and didn't seem approachable, yet everyone else seemed okay speaking to me. I'm sorry that after a day of silence, I decided to ask if you were angry with me only for it to be met with a simple no and that it was all in my head. Workplace silence seems to have become the norm, and only simple jokes and laughs during the bike ride home seem to be your speed now. Very well. I too shall bar my interactions and guard my soul from you who has made such choices.

And to you the other person who helped me and told me I was acting weird for leaving a thank you chocolate on your desk, what would you deem appropriate? That night when I arrived home and messaged thank you and offered lunch or dinner as a thank you, the retort was a no you might need help one day so it is okay. To that night's work home where you couldn't accept that I don't want to utter the word God for I call it the universe, energy and what is out there. Why does my belief shake yours so much? Why do I have to believe in God? The same breaths you muttered observation yet you kept it silenced.

I can't bring myself to understand people anymore.

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Some doors were shut not to keep you out but to keep something in. Locked, bound and sealed away. Remain ignorant and retain your bliss.

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still absolutely cannot wrap my head around how ppl are not condemning the iof and calling for a permanent ceasefire even after the news broke out about hind. she was six years old. trapped inside a bombed car where five of her relatives are martyred. iof tanks laid siege on a six year old girl calling her mom for help. because she was scared and alone and starving. iof waited until the paramedics came to save hind and killed them all. remember hind. remember yousef. remember ahmed. death to israel. ceasefire now.

[soft-voice-in-the-void]

Words woven along the lines of dusk and dawn.

I have tasted the Earth between my teeth

Felt the Oceans' current beat my back

Seen strength buckle at the knees of death

Asphyxiated my lungs with my fathers cancer

Bled my tongue to deafened ears.

My words stumbled down mountains. They floundered away on shifting tides. Cracked at life's promise. Fell wingless. My words cut bluntly; they screamed.

Words so fragile they wove a man who saw too much. Words would have saved him. Words so loud they rebound within the hollow emptiness of his mind without escape. Words so empty he spewed them into a book. These were the words woven between dusk and dawn.

- K.N.P

- 10.02.24

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I want to say its all roses and fun but this journey is not one that is easy. It has come with confrontations I have not been ready for. It has come with truths that are difficult to face. It will end one day but for now I will continue trudging forward.

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As a South African. I feel immense pride in knowing that my country is taking the steps needed.

We will do what only a handful of countries did for us during the struggles our country faced to ensure that with whatever might be can muster, the people of Palestine shall know Freedom.

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Aspiring to be the scribe whose words are remembered by millions of souls that by-hearted spilt provocations. It seemed so simple, so innocent, and possible.

With my battered fingers and moneyless name, I did it to no avail. Ink on paper and gut-wrenched self-imposed therapy. No familiarity remained, not even the ghosts of 26 years past uttered words of celebration or echoed support like those of International admiration.

Their own seemed less than.

- K.N.P. 11.01.24

[soft-voice-in-the-void]

Holding yourself to impossible standards will remain your greatest downfall. Even if perfection is what you strive for it does not mean that when a goal is accomplished it should be diminished due to some unreal expectations placed on your not only by yourself but by the silence of all those around you.

Release yourself and strive to improve not because another told you to but because you saw the flaws for yourself and made the decision to make the changes.

I published last year and I still have to remind myself that each step forward I make no matter how small is still a step closer to my dream of having people share the world I made. Its not perfect but it is as honest as I could muster it to be.

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you can click on this button once daily to help palestine and support other causes in the middle east for free. it takes literally 5 seconds and could help save lives so please take the time to click and share this link.

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I’m excited to announce my book, Kiran Lucarian, will be promoted on @Smashwords as part of their End of Year Sale starting on December 15th! Be sure to follow me for more updates and links to the promotion for my books and many more! #SmashwordsEoYSale

[soft-voice-in-the-void]

I want to tell you that you'll be okay and that whatever is worrying you will be over soon. I want you to know that you're a fighter that you have never given up. I want to tell you about how far you've come and about all the wonderful things that have happened and that will happen. About the love you witnessed. The love you shared. Experienced. Lost. Gained once again. The love you learned to give yourself. I want to say this these things to you. But I can't because I can't go into the past nor can I go into the future to assure you that it will be okay.

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As I slowly made my way to the coffee shop in this unusual autumn heat the idea of who I am beyond the man I'm pining for skipped through my thoughts. It felt fleeting. For the first time in as long as I can remember there isn't someone I am hoping likes me back. There isn't someone's attention I'm fighting for or a desire that I need him to be happy. I want it yes, but I don't need it and that has made me feel lost. A stranger in my own body and mind.

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With the seasons change and yet another month turning an old leaf. I'm still stagnant, awaiting some unknown. I keep wandering my thoughts, seeking answers to unasked questions.

Perchance this Sun and slowly arriving new Moon will purge whatever makes my soul restless.