#pierced

There are many cultures in the world where certain piercings stand for certain things...and the act of puncturing your body and putting a piece of metal in it is a practice that has been around for an indeterminate amount of time.

While modern archaeologists aren't exactly sure what the purpose of those ancient piercings are, Western cultures today still use piercings to denote social status, marital status, and even things as "personal" as fertility. 

In the U.S. putting these little objects into a hole in your skin has become somewhat of a taboo. People have begun to call it "body modification"--a title which is also associated with tattooing and stretching of the skin/cartilage of the body--but I don't see it that way at all.

I get piercings because I think of them as adornments to the sacred place that is my body. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not calling my physical being sacred because I'm a narcissist...I just believe that as a being that was made from the Almighty, I am a vessel and mirror of It's divinity. 

Now, this could start us on a rant about religion, but that's a post for another time. 

Continuing on, I have several piercings...some of which have healed over time and are now small marks on my skin, some that I have had for most of my lifetime, and a one that is a fresh little puncture in my exterior. 

Today, I got my rook pierced (it's the top one in the photo above), and I absolutely love it. Yes it hurt, yes it's going to take a long time to heal, yes I'm quite aware that I have a metal circle in my ear...but to me this is a symbol of my self awareness, and a gift to myself for the struggles that I have been through in these past few months. 

It is a declaration of strength for me, just as all of my other piercings are or have been.

This is why I am sharing it with you, readers/viewers/friends.

I am strong, I am resilient, and I have another badass piece of metal in my ear :)

-a

I never really put much thought into the reason for sleep until I stopped sleeping.

 Mind you, it wasn't my decision to suddenly develop insomnia, but rather some cruel joke played by my brain at night...it's like it just knew that it was time to lay head to pillow, sprawl my little legs out under the blanket and curl my toes over the edge of the mattress...but no. Nope, that isn't allowed.

Oftentimes the random influx of thought-flow would subside rather quickly, and my body was able to drift off into the 8-hour comatose state that it enjoys every night, but then there were those nights. The nights where I would have drowned in thought bubbles, or suffocated in post-it notes; the nights that I would sit there thinking these inadvertently strange things for absolutely no reason.

It began to drive me insane.

I was crazed during the day, wondering how these weird little thoughts would slip into my head...thoughts about why a spider has eight legs, and why there are bugs that look like spiders but they really aren't spiders because they have 10 legs and what if that meant that there were really different breeds of arachnids that really aren't spiders but they sort of are because they look like a spider and they act like a spider and isn't a rose...shit what's the quote? It's something about smelling sweet, I hate Shakespeare.......

It went on, 

and on,

and on.

For hours upon hours on end, until finally I'd had enough.

"Mom, I'm not sleeping. I don't know what's wrong with me, I just can't sleep. My mind won't stop going. It's not the nightmares again...it's just, thoughts! Random ass thoughts, mom. What is wrong with me?"

My doctor can't find anything wrong, sleeping pills don't work...they just make the thinking a little bit more blurry and less train-of-thought, more "ooh, sparkly!" Nothing; natural supplements, prescription drugs (that have been prescribed to me), self-hypnosis, relaxation, yoga, breathing, meditation...none of it was working. 

Then my mother finally decided to come visit and fix me herself. You know how moms are. Hi, mom.

Other emotional things were weighing me down, and she finally just placed the executive judgement that little 'ol me needed a dose of mama-loving. The first night she had me come sleep with her and somehow, she got me to go to sleep at 10:30 p.m. and I slept through the night. 

The whole time she was there, I slept soundly, like a bear in the dead of winter. Then she left, and you know what? I slept through the night again...in my parents' room of the apartment--where no one sleeps for 2/3 of the month, thank you very much.

Last night I returned to my bed, but I didn't sleep...

...and in the moment before I finally got my brain to quiet down, I realized that my room doesn't have a door. 

-a

Hi! My name is Aiyana Sharai. I'm a almost-20 writer, adventurer, and aspire to inspire. 

This blog is sort of the brainchild of my experience with the online world. I've had a Tumblr, I am an active Facebook user, I'm guilty of Twitter overload, and my LinkedIn is a constantly growing network...but where on this vast web of photo atrocities and depressing status updates can I find my happy place?

This is, and will be, my little sunshine-filled corner of the internet.

As I'm writing this, my fingers are twitching..wanting to spill my deepest secrets, share the growling desires that hide behind the high walls of my psyche, but that is where I have fallen prey to the scary world online before. In time, I'm sure you'll learn about me...see what exactly it is that exists in my brain, but for now let's think of this as a budding relationship. Sound good to you?

Welcome to my world, where everything is infinite.
-a