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Inside of Me

by Kai Rebel 6 months ago in Childhood
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Inside of Me
Photo by Johnathan Kaufman on Unsplash


Where to begin?

Firstly, I'm not a writer, which is technically untrue.

I wrote a book once, it was a collection of poetry and it was actually published. Imagine that.

In my possession, I hoard around forty books that have never seen the light of day. I write constantly and religiously, and out of all my various addictions, writing is my favorite.

I have over one hundred songs and poems scattered like wildflowers here and there throughout notebooks that were meant for other things.

So many songs, made up to go alongside music only I can hear in my head. I draw...I draw men and women or Androgynous angels... lots of angels with majestic wings, well...I think their majestic.

I suppose someday someone will look at them and say, "What the fuck are those suppose to be, wings?" Ha! To that person I say.

''They are whatever you want them to be."

But I digress, I tend to that a lot.

To surmise, I write, draw and sing songs despite not knowing how to read or understand music, I feel music, my music, if this makes any sense at all.

So I'm not a writer, a singer or an artist. I'm a dabbler.

At this point it seems rather cruel to not conform to the usual "underprivileged music prodigy, banging away at a hidden piano in a basement somewhere because my life is so horrible"

Sorry, that shit only happens in those really awesome young adult novels, the one's we all read page for page and drool for more.

In real life things get complicated, opportunities never come or opportunities are missed and we never even get a foot in the door to do what we love and end up stuck, broken or both.

To reiterate, I'm a dabbler.

To describe myself without using visuals, I like to think I'm a simple human with many things I love in this world.

I love anime, hoodies, onesies, dogs, cats, music, reading, drawing, floating in the ocean, weed, K- Pop and Kdrama's etc. The list could go on for pages with other nondescript things like Jell-O or ramen but I'll stop here.

The one word at the forefront of my mind when describing myself is simple, perhaps because I'm a bit simple minded if I think hard enough about it, I don't care too.

This is where things get complicated... to be brutally honest the second word I would use to describe myself would be flawed, terribly flawed.

What human walking the earth in this day and age isn't though? The third would be impactful and absolutely true...Broken.

The third word would be broken.

In short, I am a simple, flawed, broken human being.

This is my truth. My simple life and all my struggles.

This is my pain and my triumph, my wins, and unbearable losses.

This is my journey through this life and all that comes with walking this road. This is my diary that I can no longer keep to myself, because it kills me to do so.

I don't know where I'm going, but you can believe I know where I'm coming from. I started to write this in 2018, and I realized that before I wrote anything else here, I needed to write this, a true story. My story.

And as ugly and dark as it is... I must put it out of me and out of my mind and never let it become another dusty book among the hoard that never sees the light of day.

There will be flowery words from time to time when I'm feeling whimsical, and abrupt endings to my episodes of sporadic musings... see? Flowery.

But bear with me, walk with me, share with me. Maybe together we can, not be alone and unheard.

Or maybe no one will even read this, but it will still be written.

I must write it and cleanse myself by never looking back at it once I tear the pages from the book it was first given life in...who can say. I know I'm dragging on but the end is nigh.

I don't think I live in the here and now, as I spend days, even weeks living in the multiple dimensions in my head.

Due to being a dabbler there's always a new song to write, or a new book idea to explore and as I write, I'm reminded of my mother telling me, "One day you'll wake up and realize that your entire life has passed you by, and you'll regret it."

I'm fairly certain she tried to put a curse on me.

Now I'm not good at keeping promises to people or to myself.

Like when I got down to my last cigarette and swore to myself it would be the last one. See? Not good at keeping promises at all.

But, I made a promise to myself when she said that though, a promise that I'd never ever have regrets. Yes, I said never, ever, despite the saying.

I would never ever have regrets about the roads not taken, and no matter what I did, or didn't do. I would never apologize for what I became when I grew up.

Those days, weeks and months became years, so many years have gone by since that promise which I've kept faithfully to this very day, and I'm reminded of moments, random moments in my life that now I'm older, I believe I'll never forget as long as I live.

These moments, I believe shaped me into the, 'Me' that's writing this down.

Every journey begins with a step.

Now, I thank you for being here and taking the time to read this. If you are struggling as I am, feel free to talk or reach out in whatever way makes you feel comfortable. I hope we can walk together until we find the end of this long frightening path that many have traveled before us and unfortunately many will travel after we ourselves have walked it.

Thank you, just thank you. and all the very best...


Kai Rebel


About the author

Kai Rebel

It Will Be...What It Must.

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