1. I get mad that I can’t stay mad. And then I get frustrated that I can’t even stay mad at not being able to stay mad. For I have no choice but to enter myself and fight my own ghosts, instead of blaming another for my misery. Oh, to be able to harvest anger and revenge, and to escape the agony of my own doings, just for a spell. To be able to lay blame, point fingers, and destroy that which isn’t my own hauntings. How bittersweet the temporary state of self-projection onto another would be; just that little break. To swing upon the vine of ‘not-me.’ In not knowing the truth, the cause, the reasons. To be blind and asleep, and stomp upon the world a fool. And to come up noticing not a bruise or a falling, replenished in my dream-state delight.
2. Whenever I am adamant about something, and cling to the attitude, as if it were a stoic indestructible truism, attaching with a sense of righteous indignation, I have a tingling of sensation of being chained down and burdened. I can only carry the weight of my attachment for so long. Eventually, without a doubt, I have done an entire turn around. I have seen the truth of what I harvested and collected. I have seen how I swung on the pendulum of grasping. Then I have no choice but to let it go. I have to. It just doesn’t belong, and there exists within no warehouse or space to hold such anchoring effects. In the end, I reckon that I lack the tentacles to grasp onto anything more than momentarily.
3. When I share I feel vulnerable. But I cannot help but to share. I have a drive in me, a calling, a need to enrich myself with creation. This is self-serving, to create through writing. I am relieved of angst and in many ways set free. However, I don’t create because I want to, I create because I HAVE to. There is no want in having my deep-seeded angst, and there is no want in desiring to be exposed and vulnerable. I have no choice. Much like a bug to light, I cannot resist. This is my calling, and every cell in my body responds in unison to the action I take. I believe the dualistic nature of my creativity adds to an energetic healing, being in that I have no choice there is no motive and no expectation. My words exist entirely as a byproduct of the force working through me. How evident is the beauty and truth in each of us? In you. In our gathering? Imagine if each and everyone of us took our pain and suffering and transformed this aspect of ourselves into a product of enrichment, some beneficial byproduct through any form of expression. Something without perimeters and boundaries, something that truly shined out from the pores of our essence.
4. I am realizing that part of my ‘guilt’ and need to pull away from others is the fact that I often lose myself when in the presence of someone, whether online or in person. It doesn’t matter the geographical difference; I pick up on subtle and not so subtle personality nuance, energetic vibrations, embedded emotions, and historical imprints. I have done this since a small child. It isn’t something I do with intention or with constant knowing; the process is similar to blinking my eyes: once I realize I am being what could be called ’empathic,’ I am made aware. The guilt is something I am ready to release. I feel guilt because of upmost importance to me is the act of maintaining integrity, honesty, and genuineness of spirit. In other words, I live to be authentic. Yet, when I am taking on the persona or energy waves of another, I no longer act myself, and I begin to doubt who I am and what I bring to the world as representation of self. I also become disoriented and displaced, lost to who I thought I was. I need to regroup in isolation, partially to dispel and remove the residue of others and partially to reboot my system and regain equilibrium. So often, I do not know if what I am feeling is my own ‘stuff’ or something I have picked up on. This is an intense and sometimes terrifying way to walk in the world; though, the abilities I possess are the exact gifts that enable me to tap into the collective unconscious and accurately paint a picture of a collective experience. I wouldn’t ask that this way of existing be erased, but I do accept that the more I understand the way I am the more aptly I can assist myself and others.
5. Sometimes, for part of the day, I have a tinge of over-confident-Aspiness. Kind of like I am a tiny super hero. It happens a few times a month. I gain a lot of insights, clarity, and feel a relief of anxiety and heaviness. Sometimes this is triggered by a new friendship or an encounter of some sort. Then I get all happy and gleeful. I tend to spill out some ideas of one matter or another. However the whole while a part of me is thinking: Ut OH, this means you will be doubting your entire existence and reality and joy in a few hours.
And sure enough, a few hours pass, and I am all: See I told you so! Why did you have to be so HAPPY?
I tend to lack the capacity to swing to one extreme in emotion without swinging right back to the other. Like I have some built-in yin/yang barometer.
6. My blog has close to a half-million views. And you know how many people have ‘attacked’ or written unkind words to me? Two! Statistically that is profound. For me this is proof of the ability for the act of authentic giving, unconditional love, and complete honesty to create a safe and beneficial space. I receive what I put out. And it has been a splendid experience. Cutting out my core of fear and exposing it to the world has eradicated all illusion of self-injury and self-hate. I risked, I sacrificed, and I stayed true to myself, without need for validation or outcome. There is no greater peace than having no secrets. There is nothing anyone can expose, debate or corrupt, when your soul is pure and your heart is focused on goodness. Sure there are dark moments, but the light outshines them all. I am not afraid to live and breathe in this world as me, as completely me, and I applaud those who step out of the comfort zone into true vulnerability and soul-shining. You are beauty. True beauty. Don’t be afraid to let yourself out.
7. Sometimes I love everyone, everybody, and I feel a bit guilty, if I feel a little bit more love for someone else, like I am supposed to love equally, all the same. But I can’t help it. Some people are like little fluffy kittens that I want to harvest. Like when I was eight, and I collected ten baby cats and tucked them under the bed covers all tight, and then squirmed around inside the sheets as they tickled me with softness. That’s how I love: all tucked up in sweet tickling tenderness.
8. The thing is every single romantic interest can be traced down to an inner need, whether we call it an ego-based need or spiritual longing. Essentially, I think they are all ego-based needs, as when I am connected to source I lack nothing and feel divine and complete. I am beginning to think no such thing as romantic love exists. Only compassionate unconditional love. I have been processing love for two years, now. Romantic love seems to be primarily short-lived based on projections into the future and an illusion that another can fix or mend what is within. I am more so apt to appeal to the type of love where two people are already in love with self and God, and go from there. A mutual partnership, I suppose. Parallel instead of enmeshed.