Iris-Champagne

After a week of observation and reflection, I can finally joke about it. Twisted humour of a serial self-harm survivor.

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I turned to a random person on the street and said:

"Guess how many antidepressants you can take so you can die?"

"...certainly not 37!"

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amusingly, I laughed all the way walking to my destination, picturing how shocked and disgusted the look was on that person's face with the jest I just made.

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Kidding aside, today marks the first the Prince Charming is no longer My Prince Charming. Alas, I find myself alone, but not lonely because of some special people I have met along my journey.

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I've always believed that a person is like a book; every year is a chapter in that book. As it is already November, this chapter is nearing its end. However, before the chapter ends, I want to highlight to you the

Semicolon:

A punctuation mark used when an author could've ended the sentence,

but chose not to. We are the authors of our books,

the captain of our ships and the compass of our souls.

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...and I am doing my best not to end my story everyday. It's okay to not be okay and everything is to be cont;nued as I embrace the darkness in me. 

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it wasn't a "fail"; it was a successful marriage that lasted for almost 5 years.

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A real darkness is inside me, as real as an organ.

Iris-Champagne

"I have a darkness inside me, as real as an organ but the scariest monsters are the ones that lurk within our souls"

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Come to me into the warm unfolding dark; feel my caresses in the hands, in the mouth, in the body of the one you love and be transformed.  

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Blow me a kiss when the sky is dark, and I will smile, but no kiss returned for my kiss is the final one for all mortal flesh for I am the never-ending struggle to reclaim what is denied.

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It's amazing what a person's presence or absence can do to us. He left because he needed to find himself, but in fact, that very day he packed his bags and I came home to an empty fort is the day I reclaimed my broken parts and started to piece them back together.

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I never knew it was the break I needed to become whole again.

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Today, Aradia is back, in recovery and soon my darlings, we can go back to our old ways.

Ways where I am the absence of air that awaits in the bottom of every breath.

When I am stronger, you may call to me in terror, and yours will be the power to forbear.

Then, and only then, you may think of me when you feel pleasure and I will intensify it until the time that I may have the greatest pleasure of meeting you at the crossroads between worlds.

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I welcome you to my home.

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The door maybe closed, but my brokenheart is always open because I am your cradle and your grave, I am the fire within your heart and the yearning of your soul, the reminder of mortality at the height of life and the decay that fertilises the living. Most importantly, I am you and I am within you.

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My darling,

Take my love with you everywhere

and find the power within

to be who you wish to be.

Iris-Champagne

Starting a sentence with "two Doms working in the bar..." seemed like a beginning of a dark, twisted and a bit kinky punchline. But it is what it is.

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He slipped on a strawberry and bruised his tailbone.

later that evening, my face ran in to a glass panel.

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We both laughed at eachother's stupidity.

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 He sold me out to a customer saying

"she was supposed to change the docket roll, but she was busy running into a glass panel - face first"

of course my sassy mouth couldn't hold it, so I asked,

"are you still hurting?" as I tapped his lower back to see if he'll flinch.

"f'yeah! don't you fucking touch me there!" he demanded

I laughed hard and entertained, letting out a resounding "GOOD!"

"I like that it hurts", coyly I added.

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"EVIL BITCH!" he called me. "you just wait, you just made it to my list," he added.

I replied "thank you, I am honored"

"...and I will fucking hurt you more, you'll see."

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later that night he triped me by the ankle,

but my calm was on, so picked myself up,

slowly walked to him, as a cat would sneak up on its prey before the kill

and I slowly sink my fingernails on his arm and languidly scratching,

with a low sultry voice, whispered in his ear:

"oh, baby...

...you're gonna regret that later."

...

you can see the excitement in his face as I walk away and him, waiting for the next move or the kill.

Iris-Champagne

Was reflecting on changes within me after he [The Prince Charming] left, it became clear that my loyalty has kept me in some situations that common sense should have taken me out.

2018 and 2019 have been the hardest years of my life (so far), but 2019 really did a number on me; became close to people I never thought I'd become friends with and lost some who I thought will stand by me forever and for always. But now I am [maybe] settled in thinking that the people I meet are there for a reason, a season or a lifetime. 

This year, I cried so much and probably did more than the first 3 years of my life; I'm glad this year is almost over; and for the first time, in a very long time, I am hopeful of all the possibilities the future holds.

Today is about fearless confidence. I feel a little guilty how good it felt without him. I felt like my anxiety has been lifted and all I have to worry about is being good at what I do and become who I wish to be. Then, suddenly, I am back to being good at the things I am passionate about.

But...




If the feeling is gone,
please don't pretend that you still love me

I can see it in your eyes
and it hurts to admit it


All I ask is just a little honesty,
though I know that you're not coming back to me

You know I'll do anything to make you stay

but I just have to let you go...



...if the feeling is gone.

Or maybe, love will lead you back?

I honestly don't care anymore.

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I am good.

I am exactly where I need to be.

I have my own music to dance to...

...but you're welcome to do a mash up or a duet with me.

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...because

Nothing is true; everything is permitted.

Iris-Champagne

As artists, we have the most peculiar way of thinking. We observe in the most unique manner on a third person perspective. Little do they know that we see the world differently and our art is our pathetic attempt to illustrate the world as we see it.

"Pathetic", for the lack of better terms, as I would call it;  because any thing perceived by our senses is heightened and the effort to conceive it through our hands is just a mere translation of the beauty and euphoria of the experience nature has us wrapped in. 

This photo for example:

...a representation of the beguiling vision that was witnessed as the darker stage of twilight sets in. However, how much it may seem beautiful, it can never replace the real thing. The audience can never feel what was felt in that moment and how the scent of nature enveloped your being as you breathe in that second. 

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"I'll tell you a secret, one that they don't teach you in temples. The Gods envied us because we are mortals, because every moment might be our last; everything is more beautiful because we're doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now and we will never be here again."

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Chiaroscuro:

• Italian for "light & shadow."
• An art technique which uses the strong contast of dark and light in a bold manner, affecting the whole composition.
• Portrayed to create an illusion of light coming from a specific souce (as in a painting or photography).
• Rembrandt.
• da Vinci. 
• Caravaggio.

Iris-Champagne

The road of life twists and turns; and no two directions are ever the same. Yet our lessons come from the journey, not the destination.

So, take your fcking pill. Take it. You may feel strong enough without it, but it's not for the good days. It's because of it that you get to enjoy some semblance of sunshine. 

Sometimes your salvation is inside a little orange bottle or written in a prescription pad; and nothing is wrong with that.

No one has the right to judge you, specially those who don't trully know you.

You deserve it. You deserve to be happy, to be healthy, to feel joy and be who you wish to be.

More importantly, you deserve a brain that is kind to you. A kind of brain you can trust. You deserve to trust yourself again. Be kind to yourself and heal.

Heal so that if you're lucky enough to find someone who is a hopeless romantic with a dirty mind, you could hold on to them.

Because they'll be yours at two in the morning and at two in the afternoon the following day

They'll kiss you where it hurts, until it hurts and that is important;

Someone who not only knows how to turn you on, but how to treat you right is someone worth a little something.

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Most importantly: Heal. 

Heal, so that when that someone tells you "you're beautiful" you may allow yourself to believe them, and receive the love that you deserve.

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For my epic love; my immortal beloved, Frieden Pracht:

I look at you like maybe you are magic.

you are my hell fire and holy water,

where ever you may be, you are where you are needed

and I am where exactly I am supposed to be.

Pain is our greatest teacher, our enemy and our allies,

and we are the victims of bound forever but never destined to be together.

Just like how a stream flows in to a fall, 

someday our paths are gonna cross once more,

it does not really matter when, where or how,

as long as you are with me, we can begin again:

Aethereal Epic.

---

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Iris-Champagne

Medically induced death only to be revived again is a sick joke.

30 seconds feels like forever when you're drifting between life and death.

Grasping at straws as you begin to realize you need to breathe and that need transports you to an odd-familiar place you have never been before where every person you meet leaves you enchantedly perplexed. 

Then, suddenly a heat radiating from your chest and a voice inside your head starts calling your name; as you fall lost in that dream, you are distorted back to reality. Yet, the name you thought was yours was no where near who you really are. 

Hair light as day, ivory skin and iridescent azure-teal eyes that seems to beguile all being that gazes; one moment in his presence is enough to forever change your course. Draped in strong elegance, his movements and stances befalls to a rhythm that you cannot hear; as you discern every beat and ascertain that he is, indeed, moving to the rhythm and the beats of your heart, a feeling.

That feeling of comfort and peace; being fully understood by another being, yet disconected from reality, wanting to eternally stay in that moment. Then, suddenly, before the reset clock strikes, my spirit is dragged to another place, opening my eyes whilst hearing unfamiliar voices clmouring with a sense of relief saying: "Welcome back to the land of the living." 

"We thought we lost you, miss."  added another unfamiliar voice.

It was then, it became clear to me, that I died and just woken up in time to elude permanent brain damage. 

Moved to a hospital ward, knowing that I'd be getting more test and waiting with the drowning feeling in my chest. "This has happened before, when will I learn?" I asked myself.

Reflecting on the man I just saw and trailing back to his memories as I fall back to sleep thinking

"No one in this world knows how to treat this kind of illness."

---

"I've been to Georgia, California, Nice, Monte Carlo, Greece, Tokyo and anywhere I could run, but ran out of places and friendly faces, because I had to be free."

"I've been undressed by kings and have seen some things that a woman ain't supposed to see."

"Sometimes, I've been crying for unborn children, that might have made me complete; and I took the sweet life, I never knew that I'd be bitter from the sweet."

"Then, I spent my life exploring, and the subtle libertinism that cost too much to be free."

"I've been to paradise, but I've never been to me."

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Mentally disturbed with no sense of time and being, weak through and through, I forced myself to stand as I rummaged through the pile of stuff I gathered before checking in the medical facility. Found my mobile and at the top of the recent's list, his name appeared. "a friend" reprieved, I muttered, as I tapped his name and sent him an SMS. 

"You give terrible medical advice. lol." I sent him. 

No explanations why I sent what I sent. Only a feeling, a reminsence of comfort and relief that there is a "real" and "familiar" being on the other end of the line. 

"A good man; a harmless man." I thought to myself as fond memories of this friend resonated a slideshow in my mind.

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Suddenly, as one recollection leads to another, flashbacks of who I am (was), where I'd been and the faces of people who raised me started to relive in my head as if a "fresh start" is never possible. 

Intantaneously, my brain shuts off and the only thing left is a reminder that:

"A harmless man is not a good man;

A good man is an extremely dangerous man who has it

under voluntary control."

I am such a man;

lest I belie myself,

I deserve all that is coming my way in atonement for my sins. 

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Nothing for me here anymore, and I am tired.

Perhaps it's that time of the year to put the blindfolds on

and Russian Roulette the decisions on to my next destination?

Or maybe, I am your Sweet Russian Roulette.