To play while reading.
read slow
and read again, emphasizing different words.
make it stick
pulling apart.
what works...i've never known.
it was never 'what works for you, hans?'
but something stiffer. never a question.
it's easy to blame christianity for the hardness
and the barbs in my ground.
but without it would I know I was ground at all.
I'm strong and here.
I know grace - and am empowered to walk:
where to go now.
I can leave off the fears and failings from that junior pageant
Hey relationship: this isn't high school, calm down.
Hey nights out: this is supposed to be fun - why are you here?
Hey self: don't think quite so much
Hey
but it's not as simple as those:
acute mendacity
has been my own voice.
the one pulling me down
and grind-mashing my face into the concrete.
I want - but where're my discipline and will.
Learn spanish french monologues poems comedy routines
love my friends
esteem my family
act more. act better.
be different.
heal thine heart
see the rift, whatever it was, repaired.
breathe again and be whole.
now walk, because the generator-engine
produces white light and is spinning to life.
You shine out all of you, every part.
Hey crush, I don't need you. I just want you around.
I won't manipulate for control.
fuck, man.
I am powerful. and I am welcome in my own fucking life.
I am awesome and whole. I speak as I will and hope toward hearts.
I trust my intuition and the spirit of things.
I can't imagine anything else,
and then I see the top of the wall as I lift quietly, easily over it
and there's a flower
a brilliant blooming life right there
encompassing my vision.
I think I can't get past the people and places and rituals I'm hung up on,
but they are only memory.
When you stop training, you stop training.
Training < Practice < Ritual < Habit < Way = Is Self Am
god presents himself to you . a gift . un regalo .
pruhZENTs. PREZ'nts. PRESENCE. Pre-Sents.
it's taken care of. cool yer jets.
What will I make .
heart, what do you want me to make?
well, it starts with eyes closed and head down
bright blue light
a wide-open high sound
and a baby
laughter sunlight and trees
and a breaking.
not destruction,
but the recomposition of a thing:
a building coming to pieces and reforming
a lot of people think they are what they do,
so they do what they think they ought, and are fake.
however
comma
we can't judge them for it.
If I'm not the multitude of conflicting voices in my head
the resonance of mixed opinions and truths & lies of life,
and I'm not what I do,
what am I
who is this me
and how is love a thing in a machine-bag who thinks
to appease the bag all the time
god the bag
a guy could have all the power in the world
but a few drops of a drip that doesn't agree with him
and he's as dead as history . and only thoughts about him
will shape what happens next.
I want to see into eyes and pierce hearts.
drink the water and salve the blackness and engage the light.
start those babies up.
So I'm disinclined to coffee anymore. Lots of time, a chance for connection,
but with whom. ?
Be more disncerning? It's a valuable resource, coffee dates,
I want hearts, so, strangely, coffee dates where they fall for me... I don't care for.
And the ones where they find out I'm not what they're looking for or want...I don't care for.
the world is wide - who will I impact or touch?
not that I care, I just don't know what to speak as I whatwalk in what direction.
who do I want to call when I get drunk?
what words do I need to hear and what sticks in the muck of my muddled mind?
i need someone to hold my hand
this fist
it's gotta open for something
a fire inside
let the light out
passing the energy to others
it's not mine
it's a must
it's a do
I feel so alone
I want a hand to hold please
Need out of myself
Mudita is a buddhist concept and means (so far as I understand) 'genuine happiness for others'.
I try to practice this when I get wildly, flamingly jealous of my peers' ...not even success... action.
They're in a shoot, they landed a commercial, were cast as an extra in a thing, they did a casual shoot and ended up with a shit-ton of publishable pics. They're prettier than me.
which is a thing I can't seem to navigate: I didn't make my face, and it's a good one, and so what.
I seem to be utterly wrapped up in appearances.
which can't be true, because any guy with an honest heart who has the balls to come dance with me will have my time.
the difference between all-saturating grace
and this isolated anomaly
"you need to get in touch with your body"
I want to yes with you.
i can't give a fuck anymore - torn between two worlds. either i care too much (with everything) or I don't care at all (an ashen indifferent - investing in nothing), and now I know there's a middle ground where fear and passion lessen and grow, comingling into the excitement of the belly. There's adventure and presence there, power and laughter, life that's more than the body and the dark clouds that shadowed it. So I'll joy and romp, not being afraid of faces anymore, chasing down my dreams and looking toward the light -
it hurts to say it - a lie even .? - I see the cracks.
this young man sees cracks in that faith.
Right.
Where men's 'weakness' brings everything down, having not permitted another's mortar to keep it all together.
so I've got to break again- I get to - grow more light and more dense, more ease and less heavy.
growing less questiony and more certain I know nothing. How do these two exist in the same breath? Balance. A full breath is in and out, the ebb and flow that characterizes all: a time for everything under heaven.
I am a warrior I am a lamb
I am a woman I am a man
I am becoming I am that I am.
...
Oh, I so want to please you. Do I please you?
eugh.
aaaand again.
I don't get hangry, I get suicidal.
It seriously went like that. I was okay, then poorish, then zoning into darkness. There were 3 steps to every thought, a little trip and tumble to the bottom where other stairs started, one thought leading to the next, I'm not as pretty as him, so I'm a wasted model, so this 'passion' as I called it was misplaced - how vain can you be. You suck so hard, and not even well - you don't own it, you're just bad at modeling and you can't act - when you're in front of a camera you're just a shitshow and nobody is satisfied with the work you do - you get hired because you've got some personality and a face, but you don't show well, a shitty show-pony. should be put down.
I was taught without words that I was rotten from the core, but that was reparable, if not fixable. Repairer of the breach and all.
I was taught to protect my heart. But it was a rather wild horse in a small enclosure; they didn't know I was at least 3 of the 4 stallions of the apocolypse.
Rotten and untrained, they broke out, tearing up earth and tearing down fenceposts, suffering permanent damage. They scattered and went about their nature, divided and frenetic, lost in a world of wonder and fear, where light that had been called darkness was still mistrusted. I could neither look upon nor legitimately desire the objects of my affection. So my eyes emptied of love, and I shut them as much as I could.
But eyes are the window to the soul, and if you look elsewhere long enough you'll become the barely living non-interaction you think you are.
How do we reign in and train them?
I don't want to break them, I want to open their hearts so they can know their purpose and be strong in it.
I want to yes with you.
I don't trust me and I don't believe me. What does that make a day? Arduous from tip to toe.
why I can't be alone.
memory seems to say I've only been hurt by people, and inside i'm not enough.
why I can't be with people
but if I can't trust or believe me, that's lies too.
so I'm left with RIGHT NOW just RIGHT NOW to make a decision about what to look at and how to rearrange my feelings.
why am I always the weird one who can't express enough how important or great you are to me? So I say it again, trying to ram the point home, because I probably think you think like me and don't believe what anyone else says.
How is my life entirely comprised of terrible hot/cold extremes and tortured middle grounds?
Where we are to be either hot or cold for the sake of decision as well as moderate in all things....
boo
No comments:
Post a Comment