the ego versus the soul

I’ve noticed it’s getting increasingly harder – but more important than ever - to slow down and reflect in this fast-paced society. We’re always pushed to look ahead, but rarely inward. It’s too easy to lose ourselves in the process, allowing our ego’s to lead instead of our souls.  The ego is essentially the illusion of self, belonging to the world of appearance. It’s who we think we are, not who we actually are. Our ego is our personality constructed by the images we see, the people we aspire to be, the movies we watch, the music we listen to etc. External forces influence the ego.    


Internally, this leads to a conflict between ego and soul. While the ego is the mask put on, the validation needed from others, the hunger for social status and wealth; the soul does not concern itself with any of that. The soul is the most pure state of being beyond ego, fear, and influences around us. Our soul doesn’t look for external validation because it is completely fulfilled with being itself. This means that whatever situation we find ourselves in, we don’t compare and we don’t wish for a way out. It’s essentially being in any situation and making the best out of it. But it doesn’t mean that our true selves are satisfied with being static (and not working towards any goals) it just means that we already have everything we need right now in order to reach those goals in life. We don’t need to look for answers in other people and other things when we have all the power, courage, and love within us! So one of the most important personal discoveries is the recognition of when we are living through our ego’s, which can help us start limiting the chance of being overpowered by it. The goal is to control the ego and not let it control us.   


Living a life controlled by the ego is essentially living a life through others. The ego wants to be constantly validated, both positively and negatively. For example, when we fight and have arguments with our loved ones it’s usually our ego telling us that we should win at all cost. We want to prove to them that we’re smarter and our view makes more sense then theirs. But it’s time to start asking ourselves: why? Take a step back and reevaluate the situation. Is this argument worth potentially hurting a relationship? It usually never is. The ego is powerful and destructive because it makes us prove things we don’t have to, want things we don’t need, crave simplistic goals. We are only feeding it by seeking external validation or allowing ourselves to be influenced by the surroundings around us. 


However, we as people always have the ability to change! The greatest realization is that we are bigger than our egos. There is a fire within us that will light through darkness and hate. The ego may be powerful but when we seek the strength inside, it is greater than any force. With all the distractions around us, it can be difficult to be with oneself. But the journey will always begin by looking internally - not externally. We need to go beyond the ego and distance ourselves away from the gaze of strangers. That is where our essence lies. 


Our soul is freedom and peace. It is the acceptance that all the solutions we seek are within ourselves. There is no fear. Our goals are driven by passion and love rather than attention and materialism. We feel so unconditionally happy and secure with who we are that no words and actions can shake us. Comparison and judgment no longer have any meaning or affect. We are conscious of our actions and mind, spreading light to others and ourselves. When situations change – there is no resentment. Instead, we flow effortlessly with life. This enlightenment does not happen overnight but with constant effort to awaken and blend with your soul while radiating joy and light, it is bound to happen. And it is absolutely something to look forward to. Our soul is truly the embodiment of love.       


When we find the true essence of our being, we find that we are everything we need. 

To be brutally honest with myself....


The biggest problem for me is starting. I’m stuck in this cycle for a while now of constantly dreaming up ideas in my head that I have yet to start on , yet I perceive them as the finished product. It’s kinda funny how my mind fantasizes ways to fulfill its ego by saying that I will have had all these amazing experiences in my life when I have never actually accomplished or done any of it. My mind has a way of telling me implicitly that I have not done enough.  I don’t care. Your lying to me. Im trying my best. I have years and years and years to go before accomplishing my dream. What is age? What is Time? What is a dream? We’ll it doesn’t exist, mind. Because life is a constant adventure filled with whimsicality and wonder and love and pain and its purpose can never be summed up to a single dream. Nor will you, mind, ever be pleased because you are greedy and unaccepting and always wanting more. You tell me I don’t have enough, mind, you know how hard I’m trying to say I do. Because I do and I always have. Because all I have is this beautiful day, no, moment, MIND, I Love this moment whether you like it or not. I love my life the way it is and if it changes I will love it the way it is also. I love you too MIND. But calm down love your breaking my heart.



I’m pretty sure I was having a mental breakdown and felt like shit. I wrote this after a long day of feeling like I wasn’t not doing enough with my life ,and I was living too much in fantasies that never happened. I was writing down notes upon notes of goals I wanted to achieve without ever working on them, and I was writing to myself to tell myself that it is ok. The days when you struggle to enjoy the present moment and feel that you are good enough. The truth is you don’t need validation even from yourself, its uncreative. 

Ur still on my mind. Maybe u’ve become a part of it now,

April 7th

Ur still on my mind. Maybe u’ve become a part of it now, maybe, maybe, u aren’t even separable from my desires anymore.

And u still don’t know. U got no idea but u’ve been in my fucked up fantasies for over a year now.

I can’t and I won’t make moves. Ok sorry, side note, this is manifestation. I don’t even really believe in it. Maybe I do. I don’t know.

But u still there. I want u to be mine, I want to engulf ur mind, ur body, ur fucking brilliant. I thought I was over u. Guess what I’m not. I really thought I was done. I wasn’t. I seek comfortability which I find in obsessing over u. It’s the usual. But I wanna find comfortability in saying fuck this fuck u instead. I need u to be gone. But ic an’t because be rude, I can’t hurt u. Would u even notice though is the real question. Do u ever really notice anything, is the question. U don’t. I love u, I truly do. But u seem like a heartless, somewhat insensible piece of shit sometimes. Okay. I gotta stop. Had too much absolut vodka tonight.



Ok this is me again, April 20th 2018.

Its crazy. Ur in a relationship, I still want u to love me. To love me, hold me tenderly, maybe, one day. But I need to stop telling myself this. I really need to fucking stop right now. But you know what? Tonight is gonna be devoted to my heartbreak. I’m gonna go out late at night, drink, or maybe I’ll stay home. It doesn’t matter anyway. 

U know. I need to journal about this. About everything. I haven’t found the time. I should be better at self car.e and I shouldn’t be guilty for not doing it at the same time.

I feel so off. So so off. Like I’m good but I’m also not. I’m confused. Okay fuck. I need to …. Focus on myself I guess? I guess I do. Need to be more aware.

I wonder what I’m doing. Is this mourning. Because now I know for sure that us two, that’s never gonna work out. 

Now all I want is someone to fill my late night ponderings, someone to fill up my heart. When did I stop putting myself first, when did I fucking stop doing this, when did I allow u to have so much control over me??? U never knew, u will never know. And I …. Also don’t know. I also don’t know. What I felt for u was undoubtedly real, and I will never question that. And it was wrong, wrong all the way from the start. But I can’t condemn myself, not now, not ever.


I need to stop guilt tripping myself and I need to start taking care o myself properly. Thought I was done with learning about self love. But I guess I’m not. Still need to learn and that’s okay. That’s really ufking okay.


One day later

Im drunk af rn i’ve been jamming to my trap music for an hour now I fuckin glove it

Maybe this will cure my fucking heartbreak

Rn i feel gud i feel okay


But I know I will need to speak about this properly and not just drink it all up

U know that won’t help finally


Ugh fuck 

Im so jealous im so freaking fucking jealous


I wanna get myself not to give a shit about this

But I also want to let myself be


But If I let myself be I will just fall into old patterns again and love whom I shouldn’t be loving and tfantasize about people I shouldn’t even be thinking about

It’s crazy how fast i’m typing

I need to self care more

I need to 

Bitshcj $i feel so good and confident right now simply because of my booze my vodka and my trap


Crazy how music and drugs can improve (‚improve‘ hahaha) ur mood


I need to foncfornt this issue though so I don’t just push it under the rug and pretend it doesn’t exit. Bc eventually that’s gonna come back and haunt me and we don’t want that. We ant to be good. To be good. Yes man that’s some manifestation. I want to be good, forever man. I know I won’t always be okay. But I guess I can try. I can fucking try. And I’ve achieved so much. I’m a top student, teachers respect me, peers do, I’m a good dancer, I still have a social life and I masturbate every now and then. Wow i’mt typing fast. 

I really am. I’ve come so far without realizing. And I wont let this one person whom I love so dearly, so deeply, ruin myfucking life. I don’t deserve this pain at all. No one does. And I’m gonna stop. I’m gonna stop obsessing, gonna stop depressing myself fifth this issue. Its not helping me at all. Like why on earth would it help me. lol. I’m kind of laughing at myself right now. 


Why tf did I ever fall for u. April 2017 I fell in love, my year man. But I fell hard and harder and I guess only now I’ve caught myself and picked myself up. I need to. It wasn0t healthy. I love that person. okay. I really do. And i won’t push them away nor will I do anything else 2016 me like. But will fight for my emotional independence. again. I will. I will distance myself. U know. Like actually. Distance myself from the person that can make me feel like I’m on top of the world and 6 feet under a the same time. Wow. Congratufuckinglations. U can make me feel something. Suck my fucking dick, x. Suck my fucking dick. U fucking ruined ting.s but I guess I still like u and ur important also for school and stuff so I cannot fuck this up like I did last time. U know that sucks. If I knew this would be over soon I could just cut you off but I cant because ur importatnt. As a friend too. Like as a real friend I guess. Fuck man. Never thought I would be in this position. Never ever thought this would be the case. Fuck mannnnn. Wish we could turn back times to the good old days. When the mama sang us to sleep but now we’re stressed out. 


Yeah we are. I need to pick myself up. I need to, I do. Because I’m making myself so unahppy. It’s correct, I really have been in denial. I haven0t found the time to properly deal with my feelings, although that was probably all I needed to do. I never seem to have the time. How sad. How really fucking sad. Fuck man. Im drunk, and I love it. Of course I do. How could I not. How could I not love writing down my feelings, a stream of consciousness. How could I not jamming out to my favorite songs how could I not love pouring my heart into this crazy document that I will eventually print out and put into my journal simply because right now, writing with pen and paper doesn’t feel right. I want to feel the keys and type fast and think fast, ultimately. okay. That’s all. 


So, good night for today. I’m going to sleep now, simply because ei need to. I’m gonna take care, I’m gonna take fucking care like u always told me to do. And I guess that’s what I’m doing now. Taking the advice of someone I need to forget or at least get over. Will I ever? yes. I know how powerful I am. I know what I can do. And this is my new project. Something I will pursue. Because hell yes, fantasies and love and visions are beautiful, nostalgic and comforting to me. Why wouldn’t they be? But they are, at the same time, consuming me. I’m not my best self. And I guess I hate that expression too. But anyway, it’s stopping gme. It’s stopping me from being who I aspire to be. And I guess that doen’st even matter in the end. All that matters is that I am okay and happy and full of love, full of appreciation that I can give to other people and that I can appreciate myself. I don’t kneed someone who will be haunting me all my life. I know it’ll be hard, because stopping an addiction is always hard. But it will stop. 

It will. It will. goodnight. 


May 3rd

Just read through my old journal entries about her

The way they still touch my heart and make me shiver

Make me smile, sadly

What is it?

it’s an era ending

You in my head, I want you gone



It sounds so promising

Those old lines

The thing’s you’d say

Your sense of humor

Comforting me always

And never would I 

Have thought about

Leaving this behind 






At first softly.



Commenced creeping


Fate, perhaps.



commenced creeping


Raising the corners of my mouth


for a smile.


a thought

 - Just a glimpse

Of you 

crossed my mind.



At first softly

and quietly.

Yet now potent

taking away from

My already unstable

Mind even more




It brought fantasies.

You and you,

only you.

Sipping wine,

smiling simply,


You, gently,

just sensing my most 

sensitive skin.


Standing still with me.

Comme tu sens 

la même pour moi.


Because you love

the language of love,

For it is the only one

that’s sprung from 

your mind when

I cross your mind.


(A poem I wrote around Christmas about the person I love)


My thoughts run back to u every second.

Guess I’m still making progress?

Guess not?

I guess, I guess, I don’t know.

Will i ever forget or get over it??

I will not forget but I’ll get over it.

I guess.


It’s quite a lot yet I felt like it was somewhat fitting.

when did the reality come? i think it must have been....

I think reality came

When I watched an old man cry

On a street corner during Fourth of July

I was not in America there were no fireworks in the sky

He cried for suffering found on a women's feet

as she walked up the street

towards her cardboard house she smiled at with kind eyes despite the heat

The same house people back home

Would take a turn three blocks early

Just to avoid having to look at the ugly stained concrete 

A women they would never deserve to meet

The old man cried for the boy too skinny to walk to the supermarket and beg for bread

The same one who three weeks later was found dead

From the dread of knowing his mother was not happy.

The old man cried for the blazing sun which rose each morning after he begged for some rain water to drink

And still got none

Reality came

When I stood in these same streets

A little bit east of Italy

When I realized my life was a game

How different it was

I was not the same

When I saw your name

On the other side of the world

And my palms still became sweaty 

My heart rate unsteady

But you said you weren't ready

So I flew over here

They said to give it a year

They said it would give me more 

Than you ever could

That maybe I'd start feeling good

So how come I'm here

Standing in this violent heat

Hearing the engines of cars and the harsh breaths of the people

Who are just trying to find some food to eat

Why am I here to find a new reality

When I see your name

In an old broken picture frame

And the only reality I come to

Is that I still love you

squeaky shoes and how the small things become big things when you are dealing with anxiety

A few nights ago I had to work an overnight shift at the clothing store I work at.

There were about five of us there, spread out all across the store and our main focus of the night was to bring new clothing out onto the floor. The store was silent and we all had our own headphones in, each of us trying to bring some comfort to ourselves when it was that early and that dark out. So, I’m folding a stack of pants when I realize that I am a couple sizes short. I’m going to have to walk all the way across the store and into the back room to get more sizes. I start walking and a bit of discomfort sets in because my shoes squeak as I start to walk.

They squeak and there’s that small squish of air that makes a sound with every step I take. I feel uncomfortable and hold my head down, hurrying with my squeaking feet to head to the back room where it’s loud and I can walk alone.

I’ve dealt with anxiety my whole life, so as one part of me is embarrassed for the squeaking shoes, the other part is already trying to talk myself down.

“No one was listening to the sound of your feet, they were listening to music” I tell myself. “You were just walking, it’s not like there’s anything funny or weird about that” & “the squeaks were only loud enough for you to hear because you were paying attention to yourself”.

I start to search for the sizes I need and I begin to wonder what it is that embarrasses me so much about if my shoe makes a tiny squeak when I walk. Is there anything truly embarrassing about that?

I’ve been like this my whole life. In school I used to be embarrassed if I ever had to cough or sneeze during class. In the middle of tests I would have to work up the courage to push my chair out, walk with squeaky shoes, to deliver my test to the teacher. There are so many situations like this that have made me anxious or embarrassed and I never realized why until that night.

I have such little value for myself that sometimes I feel like it’s a crime that I even exist. 

If I cough in a public place then I am bothering someone. My shoes squeaking must have been an inconvenience to my coworkers.

I don’t own my presence and that is my problem.

Realizing this is going to help me though. I want to walk with confidence and assurance. I want to feel like I can breathe without worrying about how it might make someone else feel. I want to learn to stop saying sorry and start stomping my way around instead of taking small mouselike steps.


My shoes are going to squeak and I want to learn to be alright with that.

the romeo and juliet place

About me, the short : Loves very intensely, everything from books to colors to people. My biggest comfort is my cat, and I depend too much on others for happiness.

About me, a bit more: I’m a pink haired teenage lesbian, unsure of most things except what makes me feel good. Those things I love maybe too. Painting, playing with my band, watching Gilmore Girls with my mum, certain colors, the smell of grass and my bestie’s shaved head. My biggest comfort is my cat, and I depend too much on others for happiness. I read every single day. 


Yesterday was a very bad day for me. My first big breakup was just a few days fresh, and while being an introvert, I felt a piercing urge to not be by myself. After having a small crisis when realizing that I had only two or three people that I felt I could hang out with and not have to pretend to be happy, I texted them all and waited for a reply. My eyes still felt dry and rough from crying, the night before, for  maybe an hour before feeling enough like an empty shell to fall asleep.

It was a warm day, and I had probably never felt worse in my life. Or maybe so, but, this fear of being left alone without a thing to do, was new to me. I’m a person who always tries to make the most of every day. Not in the sense that I do unexpected stuff, but I try to use every minute for studying, playing the piano, drawing, reading, anything to make me feel productive. I can not stand procrastination or boredom, nothing fuels my anxiety like it. I can not bike to school without music or a podcast. I’m the person who brings a book everywhere, even to the gym (what if i get bored when stretching?) So being by myself is usually the best thing in the world. Being able to do these things at my own pace is healing. However, with my breakup hovering over me like a black cloud, I found myself too restless to do any of these things.

So while waiting for my friends to answer my pleads, I could not bear to do anything but lie on my bed, and stare at the ceiling. After what felt like forever, my best friend answered me, and said we could meet up and skate in ten minutes. I made myself put on a cute outfit and did my makeup for maybe the third time this year. By the time I was done with everything, I picked up my phone and she had changed her mind. She was having a bad weekend too. 

I wanted the day to be over, even though it was a beautiful summer day, that had just begun. Whereas school being a place I could and would run into my (now) ex-girlfriend, and by their request, not being allowed to say hello, I also longed for it- a place to steal my time. It wasn’t mine anyways. 

The next day, today as I write this, I woke up feeling nauseous, sick and extremely tired. Sometimes we forget how straining heartbreak is for one’s physical health. I made myself eat two sandwiches with cheese, even though the bread was dry and a few days expired. Ironically the date on the package was the day we had broken up. 

I got myself through school, and was nice to everyone even though it felt like I would explode. After school I asked my friend to not go home but stay and keep me company for a while. She did so, and in the heat we walked to the art supply store so I could by a new sketchbook. Somehow I felt certain it would help me heal. 

We did not have the energy to walk to an actual park in the heat, so we found a small grass lawn between rows of overgrown tulips right next to the street, and sat down. I drew in my sketchbook, and it turned out better than anything I’d made in a while. The head and stomach ache that had had hold of me all day was still there. Like something pressing around my ribcage, so I could barely breathe. Even laughing felt unnatural and it hurt. 

When my friend had to catch her train I felt a pang of regret. It was only 3pm, and there where so many hours left until I would be able to go to bed. I did not want to go home just to lie in my bed, so I took my bike and went to my special place. Me and my best friend call it the ”Romeo and Juliet-place” because in ninth grade we made a lesbian R&J film for a school project, and recorded a scene there. Now we always either meet up ”by the fountain” or at the ”Romeo and Juliet-place”. It’s special because you are almost a hundred percent surrounded by bushes and, which was the case today, cherry and apple trees in full bloom. But what makes it so magical, are the bunnies who live there. Every morning when I bike past it on my way to school I see them, and they always seem to be there. When I go to this place I feel like I can breathe. It makes me feel like Dickon in the Secret Garden. I sat there for maybe four hours and listened to podcasts, painted, and did homework.

My very best friend, the one who had changed her mind about skateboarding the day before, I did neither see nor talk to during the whole day. I knew I had no right to be angry with her, and truly I was not the least. The reason I didn’t text her was because I didn’t think I could stand another rejection. If I texted her I would feel the urge to talk to her and ask her to meet me, and I knew I would feel worthless if she said no. It was better not to. But just by being in our special spot I felt close to her.

During the hours in the Romeo and Juliet-place, it felt as though the firm force holding my ribcage tight had lessened, and when my mum texted me ”If you want someone to eat with, me and dad are eating soon.” I hurried home. And at dinner I laughed at my dads jokes without the heaviness in my stomach. 

Now a few hours later, the feeling is returning to me, and I feel the magic of the special place running off me. Perhaps I will feel this same empty feeling for I don’t know how many days, but at least in the future I know where to go to make it stop. 

what a shame to have this life, what an honor.

What a shame

That life passes, huh?

Doesn’t matter if you’re 12, 57, or 89.

One day you’re this

And the next you’re that.


What a shame

That the hands of time keep ticking.

You can’t fight those hands.

You can’t bargain with the mirror.

Not with fists, not with money.


What a shame

That life gallops right on past you.

Like Secretariat 

Winning that Triple Crown.

But in two years time

He was nothing but an OTTB.


What a shame

That I’ll grow old

Then you’ll grown old.

That I’ll die

Then you’ll die.


And life will still be there.

But it’s nothing we could ever reach.


But what an honor

That life passes.

That the hands of time keep ticking.

That life gallops right on past you.

That I’ll grow old, then you will.

That I’ll die, then you will.


jake sodaro is my classmate. though we barely know each other, there is something very pungent about him, to me

right now he wears black tennis shoes with white and silver stitching and laces, it looks like. starting with the unimportant details for no particular reason because i need to learn, by (trial and) error, that i’m better when i have a reason


he sits in class like an obviously distressed but pretending-unsuccessfully-to-be-polite-and-patient child. and i’ve noticed that he-


<fuck, i think he’s a reflection of me. through one lens. he is surely a messenger from God, planted here to teach me, without words: divine, and without my permission yet because of my own true concoction of a lens, truths about myself. but isn’t everyone? this is getting scary, but thankfully this is also only one method>


-is often critical of people who are happily exercising their freedoms, so critical that he gives the impression of being jealous. i wouldn’t realize that i do this too if it weren’t for this messenger


i feel so bad for jake sodaro right now, and for me, for knowing that he doesn’t know that the person he thinks nothing of who is sitting next to him, who he could see typing, if he chose to look, is actually typing words about him, and typing, more specifically, a pretentious, assuming analysis that is probably, and probably definitely (possible? but who cares), is so utterly untrue, but it gives her solace anyway because she is still so insecure and desperate that she will accept just about anything. i’m so, so, so incredibly sorry. you had to be the one.


<often times, instead of participating, i prefer to observe and gleam in amazement at the general concept of what they’re doing (anyone)>


<and: writing and conservation of mass: from nothing to so much of something, so quickly; only 3-and-a-half brains>


<i’m always getting these epiphanies about *how to be*, *next*>


<wow, connecting brands with people… american or what?>


he wears, and always, a headset: reminiscent of something i’d imagine uncle steve (…Praying For You…another messenger) wearing. like someone who’s been anticipating a message, any message, for years. with such great anticipation that they make themselves, or rather their entire lives, available for reception. kind of like me. an also-ashamed part of me. except i use not a headset but a different sort of message-reception device: i sustain myself for years and just *feel* anticipatory during that. usually-falsely anticipatory is my aura. so is jake’s, maybe. at least i acknowledge that i’m probably wrong. and apparently i receive messages from people who wait for messages by always wearing a headset, until i decide later to continue anticipating a more explicit message. >need person who wear bigger headset? stop


sometimes i am a little too harsh with jake sodaro. sometimes i correct him, sometimes i make fun of his candy-eating habits (of which i have my own and am exercising as i sit here writing this bullshit... binch), sometimes i cackle not just freely, but confidently, at something i find to be absurd, and, subconsciously, give and accept, myself, the permission to shrug off my crudity, unlike the me literally anywhere else, only when he is around, as if his presence gives me permission to be my worst self so that i realize what my worst self is so that i stop being my worst, even sometimes. 


<let’s try this new thing where we update one singular note throughout the entire day. <<and use a strategic format in each document.>>>


<i let myself go free range for, like, a year. thought that was the way to be but now i think (it is right to think that) i was wrong, but right, for a while, to have thought that i was right. now it’s time to pull it in, or add some shelving, but not completely, of course>


<whenever i see ppl running i think well what the fuk are u running from??>




(1) The document shall be divided into sections on the basis of singular ideas or ‘phases of ideas’: ideas that collectively follow a particular, identifiable pattern or are exuded within temporal proximity to each other. Each section shall be labeled using a numerical schematic