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A Letter to Benjamin Raphael

I don't write in this blog for any type of praise or recognition, which is why I feel weird whenever somebody mentions it to me. Some people tell me that my writing is good, which I appreciate but I don't consider the weight of their compliment because it does not compare even slightly to what I wanted to say, but did not have the words to express it. I wish silence could be read, then people would understand me. But for now I use words. This blog isn't any type of diary entry nor do I consider it a form of art. I view these as my raw introspective thoughts of my most passionate phases. I try to write them in an encrypted way so it can't be too obvious for the reader, and it leaves room for different versions of interpretation. I do wish silence could be read, then people would understand me. But for now I use words. The blog maybe makes up for 20% of what I feel, the other 80% gets swallowed up and stored for later outbursts of which I hope can be understood. If I star

My Soulmate

Music is everything to me.  My best friend, my soul mate, my lover, my beginning and my end. She has always been there for me, not once attempting to leave my side during the good and bad. Whenever I speak to her, she catapults me to the sky, forcing me to fight against the wind. The wind hits my face with brutal force, pulling my skin, making me struggle for my next breath. But I tend to forgive her more often than not because of what my eyes see in the process. I am blessed with the most beautiful sunset imaginable. The warmth painted across the sky is indescribable. So moving. The bright orange of this amazing sunset manages to penetrate straight through towards my heart.  But somehow it doesn’t enter… She stands across the room, waiting for her next move. I look up at her, anxiety is creeping up. The song is almost over. Wait… this is supposed to end? What do you mean it’s supposed to end? Don’t let me go, gravity is not kind to humans from this high in the sky. Don’t let me g… 2:0

Unkwuhuig

Section 18 Sunset Avenue TMOV 10 May 2024 Dear Unkwuhuig, I hold hope that this letter finds you well. It's been a while since we spoke and I thought since that's the case, it would be necessary to reach out to you in this fashion. We didn't leave on the greatest terms the last time we spoke, I just hope that you understood the angle that I was taking. Nevertheless, how are things with you? I hope everything has been fair to you, as they say, you reap what you sow, only you will be able to judge what is fair for you.  But the purpose of this letter is to remind you of how unfair you've been to me. I don't want us to be on bad terms again, but I have to express my honesty. You have been the birth giver of fear in my life, you have spoken confusion onto me, making me doubt every choice I make. Everything I leave behind is questioned by you with the undertone of loss. I know you meant no harm, I know you mean no harm, but I have to express my honesty. I have encountere

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"- Even though you share the same blood is it worth the time? Like who got your best interest? Like how much are you dependent? How clutch are the people that say they love you? And who pretending? How tough is your skin when they turn you in? Do you show forgiveness? What brush do you bend when dusting your shoulders from being offended? What kind of den did they put you in when the lions start hissing? What kind of bridge did they burn? Revenge or your mind when it's mentioned?" Yes (No) No (Yes) N/A

Fear.

So, how are you feeling today, are you good? Good? What does being good mean to you? Well, I'd say to be in a state that is not consumed by the desire of acquiring immediate needs. Well in that case, then I'm good, thanks for asking. What would being good mean to you? If sunsets and pianos did not exist, I'd answer you by saying I don't know. In this case, goodness seems to favor me on most days. What is the point of all this anyway? Well, it is healthy to unpack, have someone to talk to, let loose on most stresses that consume our minds.  I hate losing. Loss is devastating. It spews the expression of deep rage, straight out the core of heart. I can't take it. This hatred bullies my soul, sparking the feeling of everlasting resentment. This hatred overcame my spirit, forcing me into a dark room without a point of entry and exit. It left me hungry, eating whatever my eyes could find, I took bites only to realize that it was pieces of me being detached. This hatred le

A Poem by Benjamin Raphael (Part 3)

You were born to disappoint me. Your birth was a conspiracy to attack my soul. Your existence is a plague to my heart, the murderer of my nature, the proof of the devil's successes. What hurts me the most is that you did not even try, you did not put in the effort. Your fate was written in the stars, a stamp of damnation. You are a disgrace of a human, I can not stand the venom that disguises itself as words that leave your mouth, leaving a trail of despair. A fallen angel would appear more graceful, but you were an angel that was born on the ground. You are weak, so weak that you will never get up. Never, ever... I should have recognized your flaws from the moment I set these eyes on you... The mind was wondering what the eyes were telling him, the mind then shifted to question if it was imagining. It was a blessing to both of them. The mind gave birth to hope again... (sigh)  Here we go again... Insanity.

Insanity, Insanity

Did I ever tell you what the definition of insanity is? Insanity is doing the exact same thing over and over again expecting it to change. That is crazy. I watched him as he found the faith to stand up again after his fall. I cheered him on. To my disappointment, I watched him fall again. As I started losing the hope that was alongside me, he miraculously stood up once more. My delight was greater than it was the first time. Short lived. I saw him tumble back down. I accepted that it was over when he ignited something in me that I've never experienced before. A confused sense of excitement fell over me as I witnessed his resilience push him up once more. He stood. He then fell again. I could see him finding his ever present stubbornness once again trying to defeat his consistent fate. What is actually going on? Are you even meant to be standing? There's another form of insanity. Insanity is watching someone do the exact same thing over and over again expecting it to change. Tha