#invisible-strings — Public Fediverse posts
Live and recent posts from across the Fediverse tagged #invisible-strings, aggregated by home.social.
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The Dance of Dissonance
Sometimes
#brainFog #circleOfLove #danceOfRelationship #dissonance #dock #emotionalBoundaries #emotionalReflection #empathy #GriefAndGrace #healingJourney #humanRelationships #hypervigilance #innerHealing #invisibleStrings #June2026 #labyrinth #marionette #Masks #MentalHealth #pastoralReflection #photorealisticIllustration #relationshipAnxiety #selfCompassion #SelfDoubt #SpiritualReflection #stage #surrealArt #surrealism #symbolicArt #unraveling #vulnerability
I find myself lost
at the end of
a confusing day
trying to decipher labyrinthian relations
and coming up short,
suddenly wondering
how a day I thought good
was not for another,
caught up in
opposing realities
where mine is suspect
and empathy is a struggle.
The brain fog
of past illness
has left its trailing
fingers over my head
like the cigarette smoke
of the man I see one morning standing with his back to me on the dock outside the store where I used to work
and I wonder why he is there.
I am suspicious, feeling responsible for what is no longer mine to care about, so I observe, yet remain at a distance and leave without really discovering if his presence is innocent.
Such is the dance of dissonance.
I am close enough to see your back but too far to see your face clearly,
afraid that if I look too closely I will not like what I see or that I will recognize some ugly part of me.
I want to hear
that which runs
counter to my experience
but I must be honest and say that my capacity to understand the complexities of human behavior is diminishing.
I long for circles that are completely safe,
where the people I pass on the walk home illicit in me feelings other than fear,
lust, guilt, or judgement,
all of which mirror
the overwhelming sense
of dislike
I feel from the
world, and from myself perhaps.
It is my inability to not receive everything personally, this overwhelming sadness, unprotected by my hypervigilance, where I still seem to miss what is most important, and no matter how much I try to hold everything together, I cannot keep things from unraveling.
How do I continue to remain caring and yet not take on burdens that are not mine to carry?
This then is the strange choreography of relationship, the stumbling herky-jerky movements of a marionette pulled by invisible strings, revealed in the bright lights of another angry stage.
Yet we dance.
Through the pain of revelation.
The occasional stepping on of toes.
In the percieved exposure of audience eyes.
Shedding these inadequate masks and costumes one by one.
Finding our own rhythm in the strange movings of this particular
circle of love.
Beg: June 5, 2026
Fin: June 30, 2026 -
The Dance of Dissonance
Sometimes
#brainFog #circleOfLove #danceOfRelationship #dissonance #dock #emotionalBoundaries #emotionalReflection #empathy #GriefAndGrace #healingJourney #humanRelationships #hypervigilance #innerHealing #invisibleStrings #June2026 #labyrinth #marionette #Masks #MentalHealth #pastoralReflection #photorealisticIllustration #relationshipAnxiety #selfCompassion #SelfDoubt #SpiritualReflection #stage #surrealArt #surrealism #symbolicArt #unraveling #vulnerability
I find myself lost
at the end of
a confusing day
trying to decipher labyrinthian relations
and coming up short,
suddenly wondering
how a day I thought good
was not for another,
caught up in
opposing realities
where mine is suspect
and empathy is a struggle.
The brain fog
of past illness
has left its trailing
fingers over my head
like the cigarette smoke
of the man I see one morning standing with his back to me on the dock outside the store where I used to work
and I wonder why he is there.
I am suspicious, feeling responsible for what is no longer mine to care about, so I observe, yet remain at a distance and leave without really discovering if his presence is innocent.
Such is the dance of dissonance.
I am close enough to see your back but too far to see your face clearly,
afraid that if I look too closely I will not like what I see or that I will recognize some ugly part of me.
I want to hear
that which runs
counter to my experience
but I must be honest and say that my capacity to understand the complexities of human behavior is diminishing.
I long for circles that are completely safe,
where the people I pass on the walk home illicit in me feelings other than fear,
lust, guilt, or judgement,
all of which mirror
the overwhelming sense
of dislike
I feel from the
world, and from myself perhaps.
It is my inability to not receive everything personally, this overwhelming sadness, unprotected by my hypervigilance, where I still seem to miss what is most important, and no matter how much I try to hold everything together, I cannot keep things from unraveling.
How do I continue to remain caring and yet not take on burdens that are not mine to carry?
This then is the strange choreography of relationship, the stumbling herky-jerky movements of a marionette pulled by invisible strings, revealed in the bright lights of another angry stage.
Yet we dance.
Through the pain of revelation.
The occasional stepping on of toes.
In the percieved exposure of audience eyes.
Shedding these inadequate masks and costumes one by one.
Finding our own rhythm in the strange movings of this particular
circle of love.
Beg: June 5, 2026
Fin: June 30, 2026