How does it happen so? A thought is a spark. A real manifestation then occurs, and I am blindsided. I cannot do. The mere waking hour is beyond sense. The dream doesn't disintegrate away like usual, but floats in and around my head's periphery like a staunch smell, or a fume of incense. I suddenly take on a new energetic balancing act that I never intended or desired, and yet somehow it is such a pattern for me and my young life, getting less young, more wise I would think, but somehow less. Sometimes I fear I had more logic in my teenage years than now.
But enough about fears. What of passion? And presently-known facts or ideas that suddenly implode right before you and make you wonder all anew. Almost a cherished mischief, is how I would describe my tendencies. Sometimes. Maybe this is how it happens between estranged, entangled lovers. Though they are completely doomed, completely from their start. There is no start for them. Always doubled and hovering over what seems real. Always beautiful in a painfully mortal way.
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"Everything is blooming most recklessly; if it were voices instead of colors, there would be an unbelievable shrieking into the heart of the night." -Rainer Maria Rilke December... 12.20 Almost solstice, and now to write the deep gratitude of having a mother like I do. A father like I do. I am unique because of them, they have given me infinite riches because they taught me how to be creative, and how to appreciate beauty.
12.23 Solstice came and went, days will get longer now. A cut on my right thumb makes it difficult to type. Sunshine pours in. I am on borrowed time in a borrowed space. Much reflection and turmoil swim around my thought bank, I long to go home, be with family, make art, keep it simple. My heart is not as big as I thought, or, it is, of course it is, but it is still bruised and recovering from the previous love(s) that I shattered... Now this new love offers itself so graciously, but again at such a price, I cannot stand the stress any longer. I am healthier living at home, at peace. the child within, the distance set, a fractal light, a beaming life from start to end, no frames, no shade. hustling birth, to then be judgement-worth, spending, saving, making out of nothing, simplicity's a forgotten virtue? It's strange, I get this cold, dark shadow of a doubt upon my soul. It only lasts a moment, or a little more, But always with the resolution nearing, Just close enough to mine some meaning,and be gone. |
"Our world is in crisis because of the absence of consciousness. And so to whatever degree any one of us, can bring back a small piece of the picture and contribute it to the building of the new paradigm, then we participate in the redemption of the human spirit, and that after all is what it's really all about." Elsewhere:Instagram
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