Day 318: Twisted Redemption


The squandered chance. The sacrifice made. The nerves twisted. The bloodshed seeped through wounded bones.

Flash forward a thousand years. Everyone give your loudest cheer. The past is now in the rear. As evident by the single tear.

Yet, you query what has changed. How have you rearranged? Still wearing the same soiled skins. Still refusing to make amends.

The cost paid. The memories raid. The pain sears through chartered veins. No longer do you ride these lanes. For fear of releasing the pent-up reins.

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“Day 318: Twisted Redemption” (text) by EYHCS published under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.
©EYHCS AND THE LATEST WORD, 2017. UNAUTHORIZED USE AND/OR DUPLICATION OF THIS MATERIAL, INCLUDING, BUT NOT LIMITED TO YOUTUBE VIDEOS, PAPERS, AND OTHER ORIGINAL WORKS OF ART WITHOUT EXPRESS AND WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM THIS BLOG’S AUTHOR AND/OR OWNER IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED. EXCERPTS, LINKS, AND IMAGES WITHIN POSTS UNLESS OTHERWISE STATED MAY BE USED, PROVIDED THAT FULL AND CLEAR CREDIT IS GIVEN TO EYHCS AND 15 WORDS OR LESS WITH APPROPRIATE AND SPECIFIC DIRECTION TO THE ORIGINAL CONTENT.

Day 72: Secular Vision


When people call you lucky, but they don’t know or can’t even understand your story….

I’m blessed and I always know who blesses me.

The tears have been replaced with smiles and laughter, but the vision you see today remembers every cloud along the way.

So if your definition of blessed equals my definition of protected and sealed, then yes, call me lucky.

If that’s truly what you see.

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The “Day 72: Secular Vision” (text) by EYHCS published under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License
©EYHCS AND THE LATEST WORD, 2017. UNAUTHORIZED USE AND/OR DUPLICATION OF THIS MATERIAL, INCLUDING, BUT NOT LIMITED TO YOUTUBE VIDEOS, PAPERS, AND OTHER ORIGINAL WORKS OF ART WITHOUT EXPRESS AND WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM THIS BLOG’S AUTHOR AND/OR OWNER IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED. EXCERPTS, LINKS, AND IMAGES WITHIN POSTS UNLESS OTHERWISE STATED MAY BE USED, PROVIDED THAT FULL AND CLEAR CREDIT IS GIVEN TO EYHCS AND 15 WORDS OR LESS WITH APPROPRIATE AND SPECIFIC DIRECTION TO THE ORIGINAL CONTENT.

Day 5: Conflicted Mourning


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This was not the intended first published piece of 2017.

I have written other works of art centered around my reflective learnings of 2016. I wrote the inspired words and set them aside. I learned this technique awhile back. Write with passion. Write with emotion. Write whatever comes forth then set it aside. Forget about the infused emotional, thoughtful, and provoking life I left on the screen. Let their fire dim. Let their virtuosity wane. Let logic overrule. Let the pain and anguish of their meaning flicker out like the last flame of a well-burnt candle.

Then and only then return to the scene. Shift through the ashes. Search out the treasures. Breathe in the remnants of what remains. Ask the only question that matters. Are the words still true? Publish, if yes. Revamp, if no.

My confliction causes me to break away, if only for tonight, from this writing ritual.

Prepared I knew. We are not a family of jesters. Sure, we joke and laugh at the appropriate times. Yet, we are planners and thinkers. He had been preparing my mother. And, my mother had been preparing us. So I knew. I was prepared.  I was aware. The signs came with each fleeting day.  I expected the call more than once. I knew what steps to take in order to be available. I held back tears with each new revelation. The diagnosis was clearer with each update. Not through what was said, but by what was withheld.

The urgency came. The call was made. The words were spoken. He’s passed away she spoke. There it is. The confliction of heart, mind, and spirit. I feel it. I cannot fully name it, but I sense it. The heart aches because his temporal presence has left. The mind is grateful the pain and confusion he experienced in his final days are over. The spirit rejoices because his soul now rests where no more harm can come to him in the form of “treatment”. I feel it all and I feel none of it. The medical attempts to save him reduced his quality of life in the final weeks, if not months, so I pray his mother and my grandmother greets him upon his arrival as her memory consoles me now.

I feel it all and I feel none of it. The medical attempts to save him reduced his quality of life in the final weeks, if not months, so I pray his mother and my grandmother greets him upon his arrival as her memory consoles me now.

For this is how I learned to express what is sometimes inexpressible. I am a stoic soul with a complex heart. It is here the emotions intersect with the logic to usher in the therapy mere condolences cannot bring. Here my gift allows me to sit in my Father’s lap. In a place, my stoic soul with a complex heart – can experience the caress that does not bend and does not break. For this was not the intended published first piece of 2017, but it was needed.

You will be missed, but not forgotten.

The  “Day 5: Conflicted Mourning” (text) by EYHCS published under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License

©EYHCS AND THE LATEST WORD, 2017. UNAUTHORIZED USE AND/OR DUPLICATION OF THIS MATERIAL, INCLUDING, BUT NOT LIMITED TO YOUTUBE VIDEOS, PAPERS, AND OTHER ORIGINAL WORKS OF ART WITHOUT EXPRESS AND WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM THIS BLOG’S AUTHOR AND/OR OWNER IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED. EXCERPTS, LINKS, IMAGES WITHIN POSTS UNLESS OTHERWISE STATED MAY BE USED, PROVIDED THAT FULL AND CLEAR CREDIT IS GIVEN TO EYHCS AND THE LATEST WORD WITH APPROPRIATE AND SPECIFIC DIRECTION TO THE ORIGINAL CONTENT.

 

Day 44: Emotional Hostage


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Have you ever been an emotional hostage?

Would you know?

I didn’t.

 

What does one look like, you ask?

How do we identify one, you ponder?

The answer is elusive.

 

How can you be an emotional hostage if you possess no real emotions?

Where can I find one, you inquiry?

Hopelessness colored by glossy eyes, chirper ideas, and silent tears.

 

Where’s the mirror?

Whose reflection is that?

Yours declares the heart.

 

I never knew I was an emotional hostage until one day I wasn’t.

I never knew I packed away my emotions until the movers unpacked them.

I never knew the other side of me until we were free.

I never knew I just needed to make it through.

 

Then one day, I stopped speaking to prevent the reactions of others.

Then one day, I stopped living to curtail the viciousness of others.

Then one day, I stopped dressing a certain way to conform to others.

Then one day, became another day instead of someday before today.

 

I didn’t know my ability to shield had shielded my emotional prison from myself…

until speaking didn’t curtail my living.

 

I just didn’t know.

But I do now.

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The  “Day 44: Emotional Hostage” (text) by EYHCS published under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License

©EYHCS AND THE LATEST WORD, 2016. UNAUTHORIZED USE AND/OR DUPLICATION OF THIS MATERIAL, INCLUDING, BUT NOT LIMITED TO YOUTUBE VIDEOS, PAPERS, AND OTHER ORIGINAL WORKS OF ART WITHOUT EXPRESS AND WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM THIS BLOG’S AUTHOR AND/OR OWNER IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED. EXCERPTS, LINKS, IMAGES THAT ARE THE COURTESY OF INDULGY.COM WITHIN POSTS UNLESS OTHERWISE STATED MAY BE USED, PROVIDED THAT FULL AND CLEAR CREDIT IS GIVEN TO EYHCS AND 15 WORDS OR LESS WITH APPROPRIATE AND SPECIFIC DIRECTION TO THE ORIGINAL CONTENT.