I can put many things into complete sentences and hope and try to see that things become nothing more but an open book, my life has been completely turned into a boring confession of thrills with little tests and depression. But I’m back, the song of the week begins now in 2020. There I have nothing but, I have thoughts of boredom loneliness depression and just kind of long ending everything that made me think I was intelligent became was so irrelevant to people but, I have so much to say, for myself “not really” .I’m tired of course of waiting. I thought I thought I deserved employment, and I thought deserved happier parents and less abusive friends, less creepy coworkers and a more ecstatic sex life and morale is really low.
By, Lakira Mitchum
I once thought, when I was young, when I had faith in someone else,I now find love to be something fabled, these times are hard ones, these feelings are broken, the dismembered bones crushed near the lungs of my heart. He was nonsense, I am a woman of a fabled heart, a woman that believed in lies and contradictions. The smell of romance slithering down my spine and caused me to give up on what we called kissing the doves and roses. I became a fabled heart and I constructed the desire to love humanity, not one man as a whole. I am very much a blackened soul but, my hope is in finding harmony in mankind. I seek no romance no, sexual touch, no french personality swooping me into a charming romance. He was never a king, or God to be just a lie that saw me as property. Freedom is in loosing my desire to find acceptance by him or them but, by accepting those that are already rejected. I hate Romance,I hate Cinderella’s story, I don’t think marriage is always the best way out of loneliness. I think the innocence of a child is priceless and I lost my innocence to romance, Romance is dangerous, Romance is an obsession, romance is painful.
Romance is trust, I just wish I never waned that form of love or lust, I just desire contentment at its fullest degree.
We are constantly searching for a star, to wish upon or some sort of genie to counsel our wish and whim. My meaning for saintly living , too well wishes, their are no lamps to rub, I think My praying hands fell off and my faith has turned into a churning valve of hot raging molecules of fear and hatred. I’m afraid of failure, its my one weakness.
I only wish I knew what went wrong in kindergarten, I thought I was too afraid to give birth once and now I think I may still be wanting to be born again to. Experience it, “With who might I add”. I’m not perfect, always slim lacking confidence. I knew this sense I learned the idea of being conceived I almost why do I exist? I thought I thought I was so wonderful once I stayed in school kept relying on being tired in class, I hated the way I walked, then way I talked, the way the wind blew and nothing said, my name anymore. My life revolves around more than goals my life revolves around facing my fears, and forgetting a lot of hopes and memories, I remember feeling less fertile and first grade and playing house as the grandmother during recess because i felt the least prettiest as the others girls in grade school.
Life is conceived by chance, and my existence is not a mistake ,no one could ever be a mistake, although I’ve made many mistakes taken many painful licks in the backside.I still think my bones my rare and unwanted, my blood is not sick but I’m for some still lack excitement for my existence. I still wanted to be happy of course, but I wanted happiness from freedom, freedom of press,
I was hoping that I could major in women’s health, so please enjoy these videos.
This was something am I interested in learning about , I think Marriage is more or like an emotional connection in some cultures.in all honestly I would be afraid to step in these women’s shoes, I just going to post different videos that I think are important to me. -Lakira sharice Mitchum
I break, I broke the bread and break all over again when I stand , I stand in the sewage of my devastation,while looking at my past through an hour glass, I had regrets and, dashes on my legs, broken lenses and bottles on the floor of my mind. who is Lakira oh God damn, who is she? why can’t church just come in a medicine bottle, why can’t we find God in the pill bottles. I thought I found God under a tree, in the shade where the man can’t hold me down; now I’m walking on slippery floor, looking at blank faces and manics that say my name wrong. who is Lakira? I asked, that voice in my head at the age of three or four I’m not sure.Demons can come us at young age telling us fables and thoughts, really those stories became history and we are just playing chess with the devil and God is the referee. “Check mate babe”, “you, alright love, you seem a bit ill”? I’m just saying it’s a game because, I was a issue the day I was born its way too too easy to find sin, battered bones, Corney movies about bloody whores and death. life is hard, the ground is harder and lately I attempt not falling, fading.. “Angels say Oooo, ouch that had to hurt” even Jesus cried in the dark, ,even Moses lost his way in wilderness oh, the humanity , oh the sickening feeling of being held and bullied by the thoughts of our own self. what does mean to be human, what does it mean to bleed on the ground and no one asks is she OK. who am I, I ask myself almost every week of so. Satan must be a huge massive ghost, and fear must the poison he served to me on my birthday. my birthday was the issue, my name is my burden.Our greatest hero once abandon his only son, and yes , oh God yes, life is hard. life tastes like a bitter apple,or rotten soup.who are we to say life is simple, sinners. now it seems after 24 years my life is beginning but, really is only ending as we.I can not tell is I understand who I am, just from my mothers lessons and my fathers demands, my meaning, has
“The worst part of success is trying to find someone who is happy for you.”
― Bette Midler
“Anyone whose goal is ‘something higher’ must expect someday to suffer vertigo. What is vertigo? Fear of falling? No, Vertigo is something other than fear of falling. It is the voice of the emptiness below us which tempts and lures us, it is the desire to fall, against which, terrified, we defend ourselves.”
― Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being
By ,Lakira Mitchum
The repeated beating from the fear I feel inside when I think of the scratches and bruises I have from the mysterious man in the dark, he squeezes me at night and leaves his blood on the floor. I’m afraid of him of course but, what should I tell my parents when I see them tonight for dinner, “Oh, God Help me!” He peeks, through the window while my body is seeping wet and each night is a new fight. The Necrotic thick breathing I hear coming from the dark corner of room makes my skin unravel with a slow suicidal thought in my mind, I pace my self to approach the man in my room.Sickening noxious catastrophic he banged on my door with heavy heaping.
LACUNA Series part 1
The secret of the hills, the babbling of fears creaking forward in my head
By Lakira Mitchum
The secret of the hills, the thrills only a holy man would seek,the oh, the Capricorns the, the award in being a great loving man of the light, How do I try not to cry in the dark streets in my mind.In my world I’m only the hopeless and the homeless, the broken seeking only a small peek of the secrets of the hills, the secret of happiness and true love the brews in like a storm. The hills of hope, the hills of heaven, and all I hear are the creaking screeching words of an angel wishing me a good bye with red sky’s and people wishing to die. Save me, oh the God we knew, he never told me the secret of the hills, The right way. Save me from the streets of my mind and swing me into the mountains and hills of abnormalities, the hills the homes of angels and devils that only sin to entertain the pure thoughts of a witty power.The hills the homes, where no one faints and, the seas are never too deep swim and swallow.Sweet Marvel bring me hope, let me know the where it is, so that I may see through the fog of danger, and know I’m free from fear and judgement,God is my, dream, how dare I seek a religion to my dreams. My sanity was claimed and I was lost, from the hills the, love of popular man , oh the bible holding kings that made me into an insane angel, banging on my drums of my heart, beating away, the painful way. Secret hills are hard to find, heaven is hard to imagine, God is hard to comprehend and, sanity is hard to keep when heaven is all you wanted.