Tag Archives: Sex

Burning out

Out of your mother’s womb

Out of this world, you came.

Out of your mind in

Outer space, we remain.

 

Starry-eyed,

In awe of your aura,

I reach for you in a darkened space.

No spoken word.

What is this love, unheard?

Gravity, make us one from two

This I beg of you.

 

Each morning you show yourself,

And I swim to you.

Each night you disappear,

And I remain.

Tell me this is not love, my sun.

 

Your warmth lives me

As I dance around a sickly mind

Swaying, melting into our axis of desire.

Curtsy and waltz away for a time.

Tell me, how is the view?

 

Meet me at the moon

Mediation will caress us both

Just as I long to caress you, and you,

Me.

Making waves as we travel closer.

 

Earthlings can only imagine

A kind of

Burning out.

This love, it begs release.

 

Come out of you.

Come out of me.

Shine these lights on each other

Blending all that we are

Intertwined.

 

Let it burn out of your heart

Out of your body

Out of this world

Just as you emerged,

Allow it.

 

We are but stars burning out,

Time

An imagined friend of ours,

Plaguing our delusional lives,

Whispering sweet tomorrows.

What are you waiting for?

 

I know you’re scared

Of a love that burns so deeply within,

But I fear never unveiling the true essence of mine.

 

I may be your fool,

But every inch of this fading body

Carries a piece of love

Now seen

For you, my dear sun.

 

burn out blog post

 

–Original Poem–

 

I am so grateful for friends who encourage me to live, love, and let it out. Thank you, always.

-Ki

Swim Into Me

The sound of your eyes,

Enchanting whispers,

Ignite a fire deep in my bones.

Sirens to my soul.

Oh dear Odysseus, to emulate your resistance,

My feeble heart cannot.

Now these eyes, they call out to me, why?

 

Each pupil spills a secret,

Enticing elixirs enter my body.

Exit upon intoxication of my entire being.

Why do you elicit such thoughts?

Why do you excite me so?

 

Dark chocolate irises

Tempt me —

Shall we dance in a sea of unknowns?

Each cornea cries,

Swim into me!

Undress the veil of thought!

This moment of uncertainty,

Blissful eternity,

Don’t blink!!

For surely you’ll lose me.

 

A song sung soothingly,

You invite me in tactfully,

Those eyes.

Why yes, I’ll be your cup of tea.

Promise to drink me in thoroughly?

Why deny these eyes

Laid so gently upon me?

 

 

–Original Poem–

 

 

I challenge you to look into someone’s eyes today. Feel what only his/her eyes say to you. We can say so many ‘things’ without uttering a word. Body language speaks volumes. You just have to listen.

Cheers, readers!

 

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In Recovery

I am in recovery.

Aren’t we all? Every person I know is recovering from something —

A broken heart; addiction; loss of a loved one; failed marriage; estranged relationships; eating disorders; disease; depression and anxiety; foreclosure; abandonment issues – let me tell you, the list goes on. This is life. This is what so many of you are struggling with day to day, and it just breaks my heart each time one of you reaches out to me and shares your story. I feel your pain. I feel the struggle. I struggle too – you guys know this, and that is why I am so thankful I have this platform to share my story as it unfolds.

I am recovering from an abusive relationship with myself. You guys know this. It actually seems silly to say it like that – to articulate it in such a way that places me as the victim AND the offender, but this is my truth. It is the least I can give to you to show my appreciation for what you guys give to me each day. I’ll be honest; I am embarrassed to voice the terribly destructive thoughts that float through my mind just as a coy, fluffy cloud passes over a brilliantly blue, seemingly spotless summer sky. Within seconds of the clouds’ arrival, they chisel away at yesterday’s half-assed attempt to convince myself that I am worthy of anything. Sky is now grey with ash and soot – and all I’m left with are the tears that cleanse my soul. Back to square one, yet again. Confused, frustrated, angry with myself. How could I let this happen again? How could I let those innocent clouds become knives – cutting through each layer of my confidence? I bleed profusely, and my world is suddenly painted red with suffering and deception.

A fourteen-year-old Ki would have chosen booze…. Yes, alcohol was my friend at a young age. You’d never know it then. I was a ‘straight A’ student, a talented athlete, and I wore a pretty smile that I meticulously painted each morning as I awoke. Funny thinking about it now, I was never really awake. I was sleepwalking through my life. Yet, you saw all the potential in the world. I saw nothing but lies and pain. God, if I had only known then how much the world offers us each and every moment, every single day, I am certain I would not have slept for so long. You cannot sleep through life and truly live. As I think about her now, my heart breaks for fourteen-year old Ki. I carry a piece of her with me today. She’s still in recovery. I am teaching her slowly that hurt is a natural part of this life, but it can be managed and sorted through. Recovery is possible.

I recently found meditation. Or shall I say, meditation found me? For I am certain that the Universe offered it to me – crying out to me to take this opportunity and run with it. Fucking hold on tight, and run with it (I’m certain that this is how the Universe speaks – this is your cue to chuckle). A wonderful friend of mine sent me a link to Oprah and Deepak’s Desire and Destiny 21-day meditation class. Something deep within me whispered that day: This is a bit out of your comfort zone, but you have no other choice. You’ve exhausted all other options. This will be your therapy. This is where you – Ki — will rest easy. You cannot do this alone anymore. Being strong does not mean you must walk a path of recovery alone. Let this be your guide. You will not regret it. You deserve this. Yes, you DESERVE this.

And I never looked back. I have been quietly meditating since November 13, 2013. I am confident in saying that it has changed my view of this life completely. This post is not an opportunity to ‘plug’ Oprah and Deepak and sell you a CD on meditation (no, I did not get paid for providing the link). I’m telling you guys that you MUST find something that guides you in your recovery, whatever it may be. TRY EVERYTHING!! If exercise is your meditation, then get a gym membership today! If reading is where you find your bliss, then by all means get in the car and go to the nearest bookstore and stay until it closes. If going to church is where you feel your heart mends the quickest, go to the next available service – and if you’re too hesitant to try it out, send me an email and I will go with you! (Provided you are in the Midwest, USA)

Please, please, please take it from me – if you do not know your path in life and you do not know what helps you become a better version of yourself – then you must keep on trying. Dip your toes in foreign waters. Hell, I’ve tried on religion after religion; considered joining the police force (what??!); thought having a child would fix me (This IS NOT THE ANSWER, I PROMISE YOU. Children bring happiness and joy – but they WILL NOT FIX YOU); I even joined a local group of Instagrammers who share my obsession with photography, and this has worked out wonderfully for my social and mental health. My point is you must keep searching. You must keep testing new waters. Some of these endeavors will do wonders for your recovery. Some, well… just won’t. But that is the beauty of this life: You have the choice to try new things. You have the choice to overcome that which you perceive as a struggle. Release the fear. Let go of the thought that you are struggling. Recovery is positive. It is an opportunity to learn and grow. Your setbacks are beautiful because in the end, they provide you a new opportunity – a new direction – in this beautiful life.

The catch?? Only YOU can do this. Only YOU can walk your path.

As Oprah and Deepak often remind me — Moments themselves are the gifts. The journey itself, the rich reward. Find the gifts in every problem in your life. Start over today. It’s okay to admit you didn’t get it right the first time. Recovery is a second chance at life! A rebirth!

As I’ve said before, we can always begin again. I’ll be here; anxiously awaiting your emails, your pictures, your smiles as you tell me what it is that nourishes your soul and guides you toward a healthy recovery. I am with you.

And I will chat with you soon.

Cheers, readers.

Ki

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Inspiration for this post:

–The place where this little dove has flown and found a home; your heart; your love; all of YOU–

–Poet: Jules R. Ryckebusch

–Musician: Edward Maya

 

 

 

Say Anything

If I could say anything exactly one year ago yesterday – I can assure you, I would not have uttered a word. My head was crowded with thoughts; my heart, corroded by fear. I was crumbling. Screaming, yet you heard nothing. Crying, but you saw no tears rolling. I was hiding, clinging to the demons that quieted my dreams and fed my fears. What a mess I was. A mute, suffering mess. If your eyes met mine, I’m sure the fog was too thick for you to feel me, to know me. If we chatted, I’m sure I lied. I told you I was fine. I told you I was strong. I told you I didn’t need you. I didn’t need anyone. As I said, I lied.

Even if I could say anything one year ago yesterday, I didn’t know how. No motivation, no courage, no confidence. I was shivering; I was sinking; I’m surprised my bed didn’t swallow me whole some mornings. When you called, I didn’t answer. When you wrote, your letter collected dust. I wrote you off. I wrote me off. Nothingness was bliss, for a time. Faith in nothing. Fear of everything. Darkness dug my grave, shoveling the heavy dirt that would suffocate my existence. I wasn’t living. I was sleepwalking in daylight.

What a beautiful time to start a blog, eh? I don’t remember the who, what, when, where. I don’t remember who encouraged me to write again. I don’t remember much. But I do remember the overwhelming sensations that rushed my body as I felt the sudden urge to brainstorm ideas for the blog. The creative flow flooded every inch of my being. Appearing like a sharp winter wind, line after line, word after word bit my flesh, awakening my senses to the core. It was the most intense experience I had felt in months. My heart raced. I began to cry. It just kept coming. The thoughts. The ideas. My spark. I felt it again. I was alive. I had a purpose. I had a duty. I had to share, with you guys. Something woven in my soul had had enough of my bullshit drone of an existence. It was my time, it said. And for the first time in years, I listened.

So I started a blog, and for twelve long months I cried, I wrote, I was frustrated, I was happy, I was terrified. Publishing a post felt like I was running naked in the streets of my hometown. Eyes upon me, judging, laughing, snickering, joking – or so I thought you would. I never thought anyone would take me seriously. I never thought anyone would see beyond the forced smile that I painstakingly painted upon my pale, sunken face each morning. I never thought you would look at me and hear what I was not saying – the desperate cries for a connection with YOU. A longing for support. A desire for acceptance.

Each new post was a little less scary to publish than the previous. I received wonderful feedback, and you have your favorites – but it wasn’t until Weeks Like This that I truly started to feel your warmth. It was as though my chilly, morning air was lifting – allowing for the sun to rise again. Peering through the blanket of trees that surrounded me, I could feel something more just beyond the brush. Within reach I felt something so familiar, yet so foreign. Something lovely and terrifyingly close. My dream was being realized. I called out for help, and finally my answer arrived.  

You guys trickled in through the cracks, my wonderful readers. I was broken, and you snuck in somehow. You took my hand as you witnessed my struggle. You celebrated my triumphs; we’ve laughed together; we’ve cried together. You know I doubt strongly and love passionately. You know I would do anything for my son and family, and I continue to take care of myself lastly. (I’m working on it! I need your reminders!) You guys know it all, and you still come back – to this day, this is not real to me. The reality of your support is something I am learning to accept and understand. It is difficult for me to accept that which I am not sure I truly deserve. I am indebted to you guys, really.

A year has slipped from my fingers again. Like sand through the cracks, it has disappeared forever, kidnapped by Father Time. I’m left alone with memories, burnt quietly into my flesh. I sit here just as I have many other afternoons during nap time, thinking quickly – pondering my next post. I’ve thought for a few months now – what do I write for my ‘one year’ post?? How profound do I need to be? Gosh, there are countless people to thank, where do I begin? You guys – I’ve cried over this, I’ve laughed, I’ve obsessed – as always. Yet now as I sit here, it’s funny because I’m just sitting here like an idiot, smiling. Grinning from ear to ear. In this moment, I am so thankful. I know without a doubt that in the end, I can say anything. And you guys will continue to support me. You’ll come back for a post here and there. I know that as long as this blog is a labor of love, you guys will be with me. Along the way. In the end, I just need you with me. I don’t need a thing from you. Just knowing that the passenger seat next to me is warmed by your presence is all I need to write my next post. I don’t expect much from others. I don’t expect a massive following with this blog. Honestly, I don’t even put faith in humans. I put my faith in love…  and as long as I’m sending love out there –to where you guys are – I know you’ll send it back, in whatever way you have to love.

That is what is so crazy about this life, my life – I receive so much love from you guys in many different forms. From ‘likes’ to ‘comments,’ emails to Skype phone calls – hell even some of you ‘argue’ with me until 1AM insisting that my views are limited (you know who you are – and you know I appreciate your efforts) you guys are with me, encouraging me to say anything. To always say anything. So for you, I am thankful. This outlet allows me to love and to be loved; to share and be shared with; to connect once again with my heart and now, yours. You know….. you really don’t break when you decide to let go. I am living proof. As I shed these layers, I feel nothing but a warm embrace from each of you as I continue to say anything.  

One year ago today, I opened my world to you guys. I started a conversation about love, parenting, sex, religion, challenges, sacrifices, fear, you name it. As a friend of mine often reminds me, I am an incorrigible dreamer. I love that, but I can honestly say I never could have dreamt of the adventures that this blog would take me on. I have met some of the most intriguing people around the world. I have reconnected with long-time friends over issues first discussed on this blog. Support from my family is astonishingly pure. And quite amazingly, some of my best friends are people I’ve never even met in person – people who at first simply connected with something at LifeofKi.com, and who over the months have grown to be a part of my life.

 

A year ago yesterday, silence ensued.

Today I can say anything.

There is nothing left to say now but Thank you.

 

-Ki

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Sex or Love?

Quick food for thought —

During an interesting “life” conversation with a friend, I was asked to pick between the two: love versus sex, if I could only have one for the rest of my life. Without hesitation, I preached:

Great sex only lasts so long. Old age takes away spontaneity, sex drive, good looks. But love, love is forgiving and transcends any bodily transformation or momentary pleasure. Love pleases the heart, always. Even in tough times – if love remains, anything is overcome. Love is a glimpse into the soul, and I’d rather have access to one’s soul that to one’s penis (sorry to be so frank). Essentially, without graphically going into detail, there will come a day when our bodies decide sex is no longer an option. Then, with what are you left?