september 27, 2022.

 

I cut all social media.

 

I decided - while listening to that stray semi on the highway this morning at 3 a.m., crying because those drivers had at least lot lizards that loved them, doing all of the stages of grief in less than 5 minutes, and making irrational (totally rational, because I think they're irrational) decisions - that my last week in my 30's should be spent in total isolation from the world, from anything toxic, from life.

something something reflection

 

i'm going to be completely honest and say that in this moment, there is insurmountable pain - for what, many things. there has been death both literally and metaphysically all around me for the past four years - it's all i have known.

 

Sitting with your thoughts, no distractions, is a different type of hell. Even more so when you are already half-way up that mountain and have faced the falling rocks, mudslides, and losing your pretty white horse in some swamp.

 

because you know.... you know there is more than crying over semi drivers and lot lizards in the middle of the night.

 

last year he forgot my birthday

 

i felt like sam from 16 Candles "they forgot my birthday".

they doesn't consist of a whole lot of who's for me - my circle is me. and me. and maybe you.

So, my they's are already small to begin with. Being forgotten by him last year was just another confirmation i mattered nada. nothing.

NO THING.

 

i spend a lot of days looking around me wondering what in the hell is time. capital T Time.

 

the date says i'm moving forward, but my mind is in reverse; a lot of trouble reconciling and become paralyzed by what is what and again,

WHO IS DEAD? IS IT I?

 

So, I now sit here, at almost 40, realizing my intuition has failed me so many times, or, maybe i failed it??

because of this (intentional failure of intuition), I've learned so much wisdom, so it's almost a wash if it weren't for

losing my pretty white horse in that swamp

 

 

 

most lessons taught to me the hard way were lessons of Love, capital L.

 

 

 

a week of intentional suffering. to figure out who in the hell i am. who is that girl that looks back at me in the mirror, in the pictures stuffed in drawers, boxes, and bins?

 

there is a forest and tiny monsters; I'm lost in the illusion, on my knees; an ant trying to build a fucking mound but getting water poured on me.

 

 

she is resilient, though. she is finding home.

she looks like me, but Time... time makes no sense

september 28, 2022.

Today I’ve tried calling into that abyss for my divine feminine. I thought I had her once... although not entirely convinced and quite skeptical, verbally, to those 3 men that might have said I embodied it...

 

I was forced into calling upon my masculine to guide me through the chaos, because chaos guiding chaos will inevitably lead to doordashing 75 soft tacos, alone on a Saturday night, and venting to your dog as he lays beside the bathtub you’ve filled to the brim with tears and bubbles. Ask me how I know.

 

 

 

The death of innocence for my feminine felt/feels? like I needed to severe any emotion.

s u r v i v a l m o d e

 

and the energy in me, the energy I feel when it happens is something fierce – an internal war from this masculine and feminine energy in me fighting, shadows of them coming out, eventually leading to/reminding me of the clarity that in order for me to become whole, I must find her, again.

 

The journey started almost four years ago.

I mentioned forests in my last post because that’s what my soul felt/feels trapped in; alone in the dark, looking for herself in owl’s eyes illuminated by the moon, perched high on the trees that block the light.

 

“I believe, there is more to this existence than I prior thought.”

- cake, circa 2019

 

and the journey begins...

again.

 

 

 

 

As the ice starts to melt from the heat of your defrost, the images beyond the crystallizations become clearer.

 

And that is what it was like when I stop(ped) seeing the world through the frost. I could no longer ration that the image beyond the frost was x when it was so clearly y after the crystals melted.

 

Caveat; I am human

Therefore,

I sometimes forget that the frost is gone, and I make justifications for why what appears as x is really x, when it isn’t, and this feedback loop of fear-based ignorance keeps me trapped in the shadows.

 

Where has this gotten me?

Nowhere

NOWHERE

 

Other than another scrape of the wipers and realization that all of my friends were actually foes as another chunk of frost falls to the left and the meteor becomes a streetlight.

 

 

 

i've met the beast. he had THREE heads and they each bore black eyes, except for when they were the prettiest color of cobalt blue.

he (they/the beast) was always the lover and I, a lover of his (their/the beast's) flaws;

 

(and in love, it seems, is the only time I can exert patience. noted for later)

 

patience; sacrifice - are these one in the same, co-existing hand in hand, or separate entities altogether?

 

sacrifice of love, capital L Love, is needed to find her, my divine feminine, as she wonders lost in the forest.

 

I will find myself in some beautiful owl's eyes as the moon shines down on it, us, with the radiance I desire.

 

 

and do you know why that moon is so radiant and feminine?

 

she shines on the suffering of others knowing she can only give them light on their journey,

 

BUT,

 

the journey is their own and her happiness comes first.

september 29, 2022.

Paradoxical Intent.

 

self-contradiction is not being logical. When logic isn't taking place, doubt, fear, shame, etc. creep in and leave you desperate.

 

a process of anabolic and catabolic undertakings that control you.

 

VICE AND VIRTUE

man is an embodied paradox, a bundle of contradictions

 

unwavering desire

desire

 

purity of mind, body, and soul leaves you with no ego, only the now.

 

 

laughing until you cry is an unplanned, impulsive reaction from pure insight. crying because of emotions - that's different. those tears are led by thoughts.

 

 

 

can confirm, it doesn't end well when desires are based on emotions.

 

 

MUST SEPARATE THE STORIES THAT ENCOMPASS THOSE FEELINGS FROM THE NOW

 

the problem with the girl, is remembering her self-worth is more of a priority

than

saving people who don't want saved.

 

"The messages you received from your family or your childhood experiences may have caused you to believe that assertiveness is unacceptable or even dangerous. Practice saying the following: I have the right to be treated with respect by others. I have the right to express my feelings and opinions. I have the right to say no without feeling guilty. I have the right to ask for what I want. I have the right to make my own mistakes. I have the right to pursue happiness."

~ Beverly Engel

 

 

sleeping with the windows open tonight.

first time since closing them up for the summer.

 

i loved listening to him breathe while it thundered in the background,

 

with the windows open

 

many hours spent in Love, capital L

with the windows open.

 

maybe this time

this time

the wind will carry me out into the darkness,

blanketing me in safety

delivering me home.

september 30, 2022.

I have this tic now that I never used to have (before people traumatized me, and what not). Doing that autistic pattern recognition thing I do, I trace this random tic back to when I am sitting in deep concentration, telling the crowd to be quiet,

begging them to let the dual between Satan and God happen in silence.

 

and I know the crowd listens & the fight commences

with that one slight twitch of my head and shoulder.

 

It is in these moments of internal war, if I pay attention in that silence, I am faced with *the ones I tried to hide under old books, left in other states, forgiven and forgotten, as I was taught to do

 

young white Christian girl learns grace….

Grace.

My mother used to tell me the poem

 

Monday’s child is fair of face,

Tuesday’s child is full of grace,

Wednesday’s child is full of woe,

Thursday's child has far to go,

Friday's child is loving and giving,

Saturday’s child works hard for his living,

And the child that is born on the Sabbath day

Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay;

 

I was a Monday, wishing to be a Tuesday, thanking God I wasn’t a Wednesday.

 

grace came to me by way of my mother and ballet. one was spiritual, the other mental/physical. a trifecta of tools built and perfected over the years for these moments, to use right now, when I need to exert grace the most.

 

What I always overlooked, however, was I needed to use grace on myself, not just others. I have focused entirely too much on their wounds & have had compassion for them, only; my own wounds not tended to in a graceful way; haphazardly stitched and kissed by my mother over the band-aid covering them;

she looks at me and says, “time will heal it, sweetheart; time heals all wounds”.

 

She was right, but there is a part of the puzzle she left out, unintentionally, it was probably lost under the couch.

 

this puzzle piece says that time heals all wounds IF and ONLY IF the wounds are recognized, the cause recognized, consequences recognized/ammends made, and reconciling the manifestations of these wounds (behavior/thought patterns - internal and external) through deep introspection into becoming a person of character instead of one of personality; a person who finds validation in Self, not services to others.

Nobody does this

Though

Because it can only be accomplished by letting Satan and God go at it while you sit in silence, observing, and feeling each strike from the horn, each shield from a wing….and this really, really scares people.

 

it is scary and i'm terrified, won't lie (but i'm going to keep going)

 

And then,

maybe i'll have grace when it is over. For Self.

 

 

 

it's not the words or actions from those who want to see you fall that stays stuck in your head. it's the silence of those who you thought would be there for you that takes up space in your mind. it's the betrayal that angers me. not the enemy.

 

this is what they (the masses, the systems, the average human) do not understand;

there is a way - a way to empathize with the person(s) who has committed wrongdoing(s) - through grace -

WHILE holding space for that righteous anger from the betrayal/loss to be transmuted into holding accountability for the action(s)/behavior(s).

 

 

we were supposed to evolve to work in harmony as a survival mechanism, to overcome NATURE, together.

but population and things.

 

nature is the biggest struggle for the human condition, in all facets.

cave art documents the point in which tribes started turning on each other and it hasn't stopped as more and more humans come into the world

 

hAvE mOrE kId'S

 

we live in a culture of non-existent accountability for others + a shit-ton of highly empathetic people walking around severely wounded by those not held accountable

 

like a moth to a flame

 

goal:

a society that is committed to the needs of the humans making it up, to their neighbors, and to themselves;

a shared journey, a sense of togetherness for all of life's trials and tribulations.

an innate feeling of responsibility - for self and others and the entire collective -

all with a foundation of mutual trust and respect

 

micro to macro that shit.

 

 

it feels like the roar, the stillness, the birds taking flight, all things with no wings going under(ground)

it feels like the deafening silence while caught in the middle of it

it feels like the catastrophe at first sight after emergence.

 

how does one find grace for themselves when they've never been shown they are worthy of anything?

 

 

 

does one go through a dark night of the soul when in the middle of it, when the birds have taken flight and everything else has vanished, when there is dual roaring & silence, and you can feel the horns in your side, searching for light

with no mother to hold them?

to hold and whisper, "this too shall pass"...

 

 

existential loneliness

cake's plight

alone

on a friday night

the last friday of my 30's

cannot figure out if i choose this or if it is a consequence of others making choices for me....

 

 

 

just one hug.

 

 

 

*the memories, the shadows, the things that make me wonder if i'm the monster.