Beauty. 

I never knew you could feel this good. 

Didn't know you could reach this far. 

Didn't know you could fill this deep.

Didn't know. Now I know

That you are.

Can be.

Will be.

Must be.

Within me. 

Now knowing craves your smooth touch.

Your sweet taste.

Your soft tide.

On my skin. 

Where I now wear your scent.

When I knew you inside me. 

When you knew me undone. 

Rising then falling.

Rising and falling.

Deeper I've gone. 

Quivers in softness.

Suspended in this.

Laces and spirals

Surround me with ease. 

Now I know lightness. 

Now I know sound. 

Now I know beauty

Is without bounds.

 

"How am I not myself.

How am I not myself?"

I love hearing Dustin Hoffman and Lily Tomlin in my head repeating this question. It makes the unfathomableness of the question condense into a little bit of joy that rises into a smile on my face. 

How am I not myself?

I wish I knew. How I am not myself. I want to be something else. I want to feel something more. I want to be nothing at all. 

When I younger I would sit and think about how absolutely blissful it would be for me to crack and dissipate into the atmosphere. I still carry that desire. And it is locked up in self-awareness and time. 

As I get older, I have become more curious about what happens when this desire to transcend time and self has to push it's way out of a human being into reality. How does the world change? What effects are left behind?

I believe in the power of this effect. I believe in the potential of its beauty. I believe in the beauty of the desire to not be myself, but to reach outside of myself towards the calling of the world. I believe in the struggle and the pain that comes from tearing yourself open and living inside out. 

Inside out. 

What have we done to ourselves?

Inside out. 

What have we done to each other?

How can we learn not to wear so much fear? 

So much fear on the outside. So much need for warmth and love within? 

But who has the time to untangle the knotted mess of chainlinks. How does the desire to not be ourselves stand a chance with a casing made of steal? And how safe is the world for those who live with their soft insides out when at every turn, every triumph, the soft insides are bruised and ripped open by the friction of steel and soft flesh? 

Do not cause others to stumble, I think is the phrase. Do not cause others to struggle to live inside out by pressing your hard armor against their already traumatized being. Instead live with your insides out and reach with a warmth towards others to help them live outside of themselves with you.

Doctor's appointment. Note to self: I need to make a doctor's appointment. 

And a Dentist appointment. 

And a lobotomy appointment. 

And a self-discovery appointment. 

I'm over this wait. I'm just over this. 

Attention deficit. A disorder. 

Would the order be attention abundance? Where you can pay attention to all of it at the same time? 

No more. I don't want to pay attention to any of it. It's just so overwhelming. 

I am overwhelmed. I am tense and anxious. I don't know what to do about any of it. I can't shake the feeling. 

I keep thinking I need to go back to church, but this has become a problem for me because I no longer know where I fit and I no longer know what to believe. 

Not knowing what to believe. Is that a sin? Like the one that will drop you straight into hell? 

I've become more and more afraid of being wrong. 

On the "Ticket to Heaven" the man handed me it said that God never lets you down. I'm sure God didn't, but my belief in Him did. My belief of Him didn't hold up in the sun. 

As I'm grabbing at anything to make sense anymore, I went back to those Buddhist theories that kept me at peace through those teenage years. some of it aligns to what I sense to be true in my world, but some of it I really wonder if it really is an accurate picture of human beings and what our purpose is in our existence. From what I understand we are supposed to try to see everything AS IT IS. Bypassing our imaginations and our "perceptions" to touch the 'reality' that is underneath it all. And when (after many many years in a monastary) we do (if we do) we will see that nothing is anything and everything is everything. That there is really no you and really no me. Just we and all and all and we. This is kind of the motivation for you to have compassion and love for everything around you. Because everything is you, and if you hurt other beings, you really are hurting yourself. 

I get it. But i just don't think this is all of it. 

In this book I am reading on Buddhist psychology he talks about perceptions and images as enemies of our minds, at best neutral aspects of it. But I can't help but think that there is a missing part of the explanation where it says that beings with perceptions and imaginations are just the way we were intended to be. That these are not troublesome functions we were meant to overcome, but precious parts of our machinery we were meant to be with. 

That we exist wasn't an accident, and yet we certainly did not "think" ourselves into existence. We are rogue children who refuse the love of our creator simply because we are afraid and have wandered so far from what was our intended way of being that goodness and belonging are nothing we recognize as safe and right any longer. 

Yet we want it. We crave it. We misguidedly set out in search of it. But we search for it in the dark, without a light, without a guide. And the Guide is where the controversy comes from. 

I said to myself that I would try to do this everyday, even if I didn't have the time to write anything good. 

Part of it is so that...ummm...I guess so that I can keep track of what my days are doing. They all are ending so fast that as I am making progress, I have a hard time reflecting on all that has gone on up to this point. 

There has been so much, and so much still to go. 

I have been feeling really tired and lazy more frequently. I know I should see a doctor about this, with my family history of diabetes and all that, but I keep putting it off. 

I start school again next week and I'm just counting down the days. I want to learn again and this time I know I can finish. 

I have to go, so I can't really finish this, but I'll come back to it later. 

So many things I still want to write about...the state of our surroundings is one of them. My fear about what there is to hope for is another. The idea that time is running out for another topic. The feeling that I'm always struggling to connect to what's important and how confusing it all is. 

Model # 834723

Wow. My description of choice when I have no other words to describe the beginning of my mood. 

Gross, I guess would be an appropriate word right now too. Full, compacted, bored, STRESSED, and strange would all apply as well, I guess ;)

Apprehensive and hesitant of writing again also work. 

But I'm starting to let my self try it and like it again. This writing thing. The machine that pumped out journals and journals of scribbles and thoughts and pages of my-space blogs has had so many updates that I hardly recognize her anymore. 

I like her, though.  She has become more efficient, ambitious, and capable than I had even imagined I doubted her to be. She is determined to prove me wrong, which makes her a very busy and focused human being...

Although, I miss her laugh. She uses it less frequently. As she does her imagination. The thing about laughing and imagining is that you have stop long enough to listen to the joke and see the picture. You have to indulge laughter and vision with time past the point where they are just warming up, to the moment that they erupt into satisfaction. I don't allow myself that kind of time anymore, which seems silly considering that there are many blank lines in my dayplanner. 

Tuesday:

8:00am Laugh

8:15am Imagine

Note to self: Call Pete's before 8:30am and tell them you wont be taking that job because you had to make a decision and you started Ennie with Pete's and Mo picked Starbucks. 

I start school this fall. 

Two years. I have to fit this goal within 730 days. That sounds exciting...and the adrenaline is giving me anxiety. That's what that chest-closing-in-on-your-heart feeling is, right? Add that to gross and full. 

But I will say this, I'll take those words over, meaningless and unimportant-in-the-grand-scheme-of-things. 

730 days = Education 

or 

730 days = Yo-yo my way up the bullshit corporate ladder in customer service when I am struggling everyday to hide that fact that I think customers are the epitome  of everything that is tragic and wrong about humanity. 

I think I can do two years of school. I have to. I want to. I guess I'm just nervous about remembering how. And to be honest, I don't have a stellar track record of completion...for anything. 

But I guess that's where my updates come in. I have upgraded my internal system with a time management option, as well as a reaction mechanism for failing to produce results. However, that means that files that once used up capacity for family and friends are in danger of being removed. 

This, my internet strangers (and maybe some old real friends-I hope), is the crux of my anxiety. 

To be continued...always.