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Love As Death

I am calling upon a warrior. I am calling upon someone who has the balls to take me on.

I am searching for someone who has the ability to unify through upheaval.

In order to sustain a truly committed and contented relationship we must enter into an maintain the practice of seeing and slaying.

We are to be fearless warriors. People who are undeterred by even the deepest fear and pain. We are on a fucking mission. Truth over bullshit at all costs.

The storms, the layers, the grandiose garbage is the bull shit that gets in the way of the eternal flow, the love, the sweet nothingness.

In order to be whole and healthy we have no choice but to purge the toxicity. We have to use our sight and awareness to see what is static in ourselves and what is static in each other and we have to take that shit, offer it up, and see it. To see is to illuminate. To turn the light on is to banish the dark. Seeing is the light and the dark is what is instantly slayed.

We are to become not only detonators of our own egoic demise but tools to aid each other when we spot our respective blind spots.

We are apoptosis. Programmed cell death. Not only to die in longevity's sense, but in the here and now. Death is truth. Death is love.Cut all your ties and live devoid of the layers of attachment and you are dead. You are free. You are the most alive you will ever be.

"Let's take torches to our minds and rest safe in the knowledge that truth doesn't burn" -ME

"There is a single, deadly mistake that we can make: to attach ourselves to another human being even if only for an instant." -Rilke

Becoming integrated. Further

What I would give for one (or many) authentic relationships. To exist in a state of mind that completely trusts the unfolding of experience, knowing that experience is an extrapolation of the universe and the universe is perfect. Perfection is a given and the initial intellectual understanding of this is an amazing thing, a first step , but this, the intellect, is only the beginning. There are many layers to a human and the most deeply rooted ones go way beyond the mind. They are down deep in the formative experiences of a person. Those first forming moments bind people into themselves. This is where egoic identity begins. This is the false self which builds itself in layers and molds people through their experiences of the people and places which surround them. These are the roots of existence. They are very deep and unfathomably strong. They must be acknowledged and brought forth into the present. Their needs, their reality, their bound existence must be integrated into the whole of a person through illumination. Only then then can a person enter into integrated relationships where all is okay, all is accepted, all is well, all is in flow. To integrate oneself is to integrate ones relationship is to integrate ones world. What I would GIVE for this. I would give everything. I am giving Everything. And that is the point. To bring up every dark nook and cranny and make it a part of the whole of myself so that I am one being completely in line with itself. It is subconscious and the conscious working together. And this will allow alignments with others who have grown up and integrated themselves in the same fashion. I will be Integrated. I am becoming integrated. Each day is a step forward The sun. Playfulness. Joy. Creativity. Wonder. Reverence. Authenticity, Space. Flow. Gratitude Trust What would i give? Everything. Right now I am to slay everything. My purity of intent clears with every step and I am ready. I am in action. I am thankful. That said this is the most painful and crazy thing ever. Lol

Unrequited

You’re enveloped in a cloud. If I could visualize it, it would be brown, erratic, and static. It is you, it’s not you. Sometimes you fight it, and sometimes you surrender in sadness and pain. You tell me about her, and you admit you’re really fucked up about that stuff.

I want to help you.

I climb on top of you, hold you, reach into you and suck this cloud out.

It rests in my hands and I watch it. I tell it that it is safe. I tell it that it’s okay. I tell it that I love it. I stand up and wrap it around myself. I spin and dance with it. It is the dance of mourning, the dance of the wounded. It meets my cloud, they know each other well. They bow, they fall, they weep. They are broken and beautiful.

I look over. You are watching me. You are far away. I try to walk back to you, but each step pulls you further. You lift your hands. You are asking for it back. Your eyes tell me simply, “This is mine. You must wait.”

I drop to the floor. There is no more brown, there is no more you.

I look back to my cloud and we weep. I hold my cloud and we dance. I wait and we dance. We dance. I wait.

#Fiction #love #unrequited #writing

Hey, Lolita, Hey

The pull to be more alive.

The pull from fragmentation into synchronicity.

My creative process has been stripped bare. The University of Washington successfully left me questioning everything. All of the things I held as sturdy little facets of my identity were upturned, thrown around, and now I am left wondering what stays, what goes, and what begs to be further mothered into its own.

There lies in me a pool of unmanifested potential.

Getting a writer degree was brutal. It didn't really hit me until this quarter when I was so obviously among a group of poets who were incredibly talented and percocious. I sat among them listening to the organized thoughts birthed so clearly from combinations of their predecessors. These fuckers had done their homework, and I don't mean their assignments, but their readings. My lack of reading for pleasure is something of which I have grown very self-conscious and therefore I took a stand this week and bought two books.

For some reason or another I picked Lolita. I have been wanting to read more Russian literature ever since Tolstoy blew my fucking mind with Anna Karenina and this story attracted me because my most recent musical obsession Lana Del Rey definitely has a Lolita complex which she explicitly addresses in a few of her songs. It makes me wonder if I have it a bit too, or if perhaps all girls do. There is something to be said of the comfort of an older man and the sexiness of fresh youth meeting. But of course the novel is extreme and perverse. There is not doubt!

But taking something that we want to easily just labeled in a box as wrong and drop it off our rader as though it's untouchable is in part what I believe Nabokov to be addressing. I need to read further, but so far there seem to be indications on every page that he is forcing the reader to revisit what we demonize and experience the livelihood of the things we could easily just block out. This process (regardless of the content) seems extremely important. The only way we grow is to question what we previously took for granted or ignored all-together.

I'll finish these thoughts laterrr

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Thoughts

The times when you endure the most strife are also the times of greatest reflection. I feel like I’m on a roller coaster and the coaster is myself. I’m riding the waves of myself. Sometimes I let them wash over me and sometimes they crash into me.

After viewing Radiohead’s Lotus Flower and watching Thom Yorke dance, I am reminded how fulfilling it is to let yourself go in the midst of your own creation. It is so easy to get side-tracked by personal relationships and the ever-present issues that arise from living in this world, but fuck, who really gives a shit if you’re manifesting beauty and reverence and eloquence. Creation, to me, is omnipotent. It really should take priority over consumption and fraternization and most importantly all the junky thoughts that float around in our heads. How can they have power if were pouring out ourselves and forming it all into something beautiful or powerful or emotive or inspiring?

I realize there are imperfections in what I am saying, but my point is that for me right now it is important to take time for myself and create for myself over everything else.

I just had this thought. Life is like a wave. Emotions are like waves. Everything has a starting place, a peak, and a resting place. Birth, extrapolation, death. Therefore in order to be a progressing and dynamic person it is important to let your thoughts me waves too. Waves that pass. I think people get stuck on the same waves of thoughts. They obsess in loops and don’t even realize that they’re running in place. Fuck that man. New waves all the time.

Let's see where this leads

Sometimes I just have days where so much floods my brain, that the only way to get a point of focus is to write nonsensically without aim. Here I go!

Humans have their patterns. Most of the time they aren't conscious of them. The unconsciousness that pervades humanity corrects itself on its own. Awareness that comes to create space around our actions and make us aware of ourselves is not personal. We can't take credit. Understand, awareness is not personal. It has no identity. "We" take credit for this awareness, but it is not "us", it is the unmanifested space.

I am having a hard time, because I can tell that what my conscious mind is screaming it doesn't want is what my unconscious/subconscious is manifesting.

I say I don't wanna drug myself, but then I do so anyways.

I say I don't wanna create a story in my head about this boy, but I keep going.

Other things too. I am so torn right now. Conflicted between two extremes, and really the thing in me that is screaming it doesn't want something is the thing that drives me to do it anyways and the thing that beats me up after I've done it. It's all the same monster. Sometimes it looks like Johnny Depp and sometimes like an Ork, but that's its power. It's all the same hole I'm stuck in. And yes, I am wiggling my way out slowly, but god damn, I'm tired.

I let people fragment my sense of self. I give up pertinent parts of my self in conversation in order to say or do what I think will please them. The most interesting people to me, are those that I feel comfortable completely being myself. I meet them so rarely.

Past/Present

It was like I was down in a dark hole. But there was a window looking upward. I could see all of the light, but it wasn’t touching my skin, it wasn’t enveloping me down in the nuclei of my cells. I would have moments where the window would open a bit, and the breeze would waft in. I knew I needed to shatter the glass, but I could barely get my limbs to move. I knew what was coming, that I was leaving this place, sooner or later, but I was so impatient. Why was I stuck down here, when I could see out there? But when opportunities forged me a way out, I felt so naked and knowingly sunk back in.

“Noel you’re a prostitute, you moan about that. Quit forgetting that you’re your pimp too.”

Cue *light bulb*. Cue shame.

[bloody glass interlude. not ready to write about that ugliness. the breakdowns aint pretty. poor Britney had her picture taken a few times in the middle of herz. i was alone in my bed. made it out with all my hair in tact. s’all relative.]

--------

Sometimes I crawl back down there, just to remember. But most of the time I’m resting up here. I made it out. But, the funny thing is that I’m in a new hole. It’s just not as dark. If I was a tornado, I just got smaller. If I was a star, I just got brighter.

[huge sigh, after-glow and mellow shock]

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The best new moments are when I smile like a baby child. When I allow people’s weird little permutations of being tickle me. When I open the space that wants purely to enjoy, and accept everything that manifests in front of me. A closed tiny flower, opening up wider, wider.

Today in the midst of a crowd of happy people dancing in front of creative forces who been open to sharing their stylized awareness for quite some time, I felt okay showing everyone the ecstatic parts of me. I waved my hands, and stomped my feet, and opened my mouth into big smiles, and even bigger screams. That was great. Worth every penny I won’t get to spend on coffee and beer.

Throughout this mind-blowing performance (YACHT at the Croc) I couldn’t help but think of the relationships that are soon to come hurtling toward me (we create our reality!). My new mantra is never to settle. I secretly crooned the phrase “Give me the best or I’ll happily die a lonely death.” as the lights, and hot bodies bounced around me. New friends, new lovers. Watching myself dive off this precipice into a new vault of experiences unfolding as soon as they crystallize.

This phase is gettin’ good. Gettin’ so good.

“Where you been darlin’, darlin’, we’ve been holding this moment for you. I told you your dreams would come true.”

Scary

I've seen my people's dreams die.

I've seen what they can be denied.

Yeah.

I'm fucked up.

I'm really fucked up.

I think irrational thoughts. I do things I hate. I am things I don't want to be. I judge others for doing the same shit I do. I think mean things about other people that make me feel better for fleeting moment about myself until I willingly pop that balloon with my inherent need to balance out anything and everything that tries to be egotistical (one of my gifts).

I'm screaming to you that I'm fucked up, because I am, and because you are too, and because we are afraid to admit to being that way because it means we have to change, because it means we have to admit that we are low sometimes, because it means we have to feel, to be, to cogitate instead of react and stay comfortable.

No matter what mask we put on, when it really comes down to facing the REAL shit, we fight with all our might to enter into the places that truly scare us.

I am fucked up. I am unbalanced. But it is important not to demonize this, because really it's just a part of life and while it may feel awful, it is what exists and although it seems scary, the scariest thing of all would be to let it remain distant and scary and not face it, because then all the ugliness exists under the surface, deep in its cave being and feeding on all the unbalanced thoughts and feelings. These entities.. that of the unbalanced (example would be judgment) are fuel for the cycle of fear. Fear fuels fear. But this never stays static. Something always breaks the chain, and shit changes and right now for me, change is to face what I find ugly, to accept what I wanted to be monstrous, and to know that while for now it is a wall I need to break down, but ultimately it is just as much a part of the infinite as I am. The monster becomes the teacher, bringing me closer to the infinity, making me more aware... The monster is no longer monstrous when you accept it. When you face ugliness, it is no longer ugly, it is accepted, and therefore ultimately the only thing that is ugly is the perception of ugliness and perception is as fleeting as the wind. Perception passes, and impermanence prevails and yes, life is a beautiful and everlasting yet impermanent paradox. ;)

Being fucked up to me is being unable to accept balance, and infinity. Acting selfishly instead of thinking equally selflessly, judging others and not acknowledging the equal self-judgment that comes along with it, hating oneself to the point where all the good things are ignored etc etc etc. The nasty shit we all do. The lack of awareness we cling to, because we found comfort there, the coping mechanisms we create and hold onto that must must must change. That's all the monster... the fucked up-ness is really... the need to change, or even experiencing change, but refusing to be with it, to accept it, to let it flow.. that is the monster... resistance to change... not so monstrous when you break it down huh?

There is no shame in the bare bones of reality, but sometimes in this world we block the infinite flow, refuse to accept, and we've gotta figure out how to break down those walls and let it all be free again.

For some reason in this life, in this universe, in this reality system, in this mind set we come in unbalanced and beg for balance. Some more than others, some more willing to change than others, and so on and so forth, but regardless of that we all have the ability to stand in our fucked up shoes, own it, then change it, and let our walls fall down as we become aware of the free flow that is existence. We ALL have this ability, because we are all a part of the infinite. We are the fractal.

We are the universe becoming aware of itself.

I'm ready. I'm fucked up, but I'm ready to go home, and therefore I guess I'm not that fucked up, huh? ;)

Good night... life was hard today. Really fucking hard.

I just..

Feel like fucking typing.

I hate that I feel like I have to censor myself on this thang. I hate that there are social rules that I abide. It's all so fake to me. Rules around what's okay and what's not okay to say and do. We're always trying to censor ourselves to market ourselves well to everything outside of us to the point of where we care more about what's out there than what's inside. What's inside.. feeling.. emotion.. awareness becomes a fucking burden and shameful and something that needs to be hidden instead of the only thing that's truly real. If I started talking about my last sexual experience here, it would be considered raunchy and inappropriate. I couldn't go into detail without facing judgment and stigma, but WHY? Why is the honest and candid truth about something ever something that is judged or not okay to say?

Ahh fucking Modest Mouse is the best when they hit you at the right moment in time. Listening to Styrofoam boots right now.

Anyways, one of the things I love about myself is that I am much more detached from society and social rules than most people are. Or at least I am mentally. I don't abide the bull shit even if I act like I do. Even basic things like eating with a fork. I don't think you'd be any more or less of a person if you ate with your hands.. ate on the floor... used your feet as a plate. I. Don't. Give. A. Fuck. The little mores that people think make them civilized are actually fostering suffering. It becomes "us" vs. "them"... those that abide and are therefore good and rational and then those that don't who are in some sense barbaric or otherwise fucked up But it's bullshit, because these little rules are created, not inherent. Eating with a fork is not something that is natural to humanity.. it is a rule we fucking made up and then force people to stick by as though it MEANS SOMETHING INHERENTLY to the integrity and soul of our being, but it fucking DOESN'T. I am no less of a person if I twisting my spaghetti around my index finger than I am when I do the same on some cheap Ikea flat ware.

TO ME the shit that MEANS something is honesty... is compassion.. is equanimity to external stimuli... ie being fucking balanced. Sure wear a dress, eat off crystal, smile politely, and say the socially appropriate and reserved thing, go to church, act however you think other people think you should but if you're not going to be honest, if you're not going to surround all your negativity with compassion and attempt to be equanimous instead of emotional you don't have integrity, you have a bunch of external socially appropriate signifiers... you dont have soul and depth, you have something that shallowly says "Look, I'm acceptable" but that doesn't fucking matter if it's not reflected from an internal space of balance.

My point is that people are fueled by external shit like what they perceive other people are thinking or what their church/school/government/mother/insert entity here tells them is okay instead of what THEY feel is right for them.

People try to emulate what they see on the outside instead of realizing that they have everything to succeed deep within themselves and that is a fucking problem.

We, as a culture, as a human race, as individuals are suffering from collective low self-esteem, and if we actually want to be content and love ourselves we need to fucking count on ourselves by being okay with ourselves.

Hey babe, take a walk on the wild side.

Hey honey, take a walk on the wild side...

Oh wait. I already have. Multple times. And oh wait, it didn't get me anywhere but right back here. To this space that is clutching onto the in-between space. Scared to fly away from my nest of destruction.

"Oh mama were not ready to let go.

Oh mama were not ready to fly.

Please let us stay here clinging.

Please let us be scared just a few moments longer!! "

--------

Nope. Chickadee, ya gotta fly.

"K..."

Honest time.

This is the first time in my life where I've actually been brave enough to look at my shit head on. I've realized so much about myself, but there is so much more to learn. In some sense I'm a bit stuck right now. My compulsive-destructive behavior still surfaces often and it seems I am at its mercy on bended knees. I always think I'll be strong enough next time finally say NO, you will NOT run my decisions, but then I let it.. and thus repeat the cycle of suffering I have created for myself for over a decade.

I have to be honest tonight, and I hope that this honesty will help others. I have had low self-esteem all my life. From my earliest memories I could feel within me a sense of lowness. I always thought everyone else was more legit. than me, cooler than me, knew more than me, and this translates now to self hatred. I don't hate myself completely. I don't sit around thinking about how terrible I am. NEVER. I don't. That would be dramatic and I would know it wasn't true. Whenever this shit manifests itself into words like "I'm a piece of shit" I always am like "WOW how dramatic why would you say such a thing? You wouldn't even say that about Hitler"... yeah.. sometimes I'm meaner to myself than I would be to a dictator. Makes perf sense. But anyways this self-hatred is tricky.. it's deep in the chakras... it manifests into feelings and actions and when it comes down to it I make destructive decisions which are basically the same as calling myslef something terrible liek a piece of shit, but the feeing is so much deeper. If I made the balanced, healthy, loving decisions then I would be those things to myself, and a lot of the time I do, but then there are the times where I do things which are just not good for me, and those times run deep and the veins seep blood into my identity... my sense of self.

When you do things that are off balance and not good for you, and you are aware of it, this is a form of self-hatred.

Anyways, this is all coming to a head right now, and so it's always on my mind, and basically plaguing me. I know there is going to be a climax and then a fall into repose, but I'm not sure if I'm quite there yet. I'm just working my ass off to get to a point of balance where I know longer make the decisions I DONT want to make and I start always being in control. I guess there are two parts of me dueling right now, and I need the higher and more balanced self (which I definitely have) to win. It will win.

I wish I could always be positive and write inspiring posts about being rock solid and overcoming all my shit, but sometimes to get to that you have to SIT IN YO SHIT and just breathe the fucked upness. If you don't let it be.. let it breathe, it doesn't ever get a chance to surface.. it stays on lock down underneath all the conscious shit and ultimately influences everything you do in a secretive way. What I'm saying is that this dysfunction never just goes away. You have to fucking FACE IT before you can detach from it... That is for you girl. If you're reading this you know who you are. Face your shit. Be honest. Confront when you need to. You have so much potential. So much ability to be the "rock solid radical woman" you wanna be, but not until you wo(man) up and face the ugly shit inside of you. I feel all that ugliness.. yes I do. You can't hide it from me, because I have the same shit. THe same self-hatred. The same secrecy. The same fear. The same want to placate hardships with a smile. But I'm done doing that. Yeah, I'm fucked up, but I own that, that is how I will transcend it.

"Truth, the only thing I ever used in moderation

So I stare into this paper instead of sitting at a cubicle

Take all the ugly shit inside and try to make it beautiful

Use the cement from rock bottom and make it musical

So the people can relate to where Ive been,

where I'm going, what I've seen what I've heard.

From the guts, fuck the glory.

Just a person on a porch putting it all into recording...

Many in my past and many that came before me

So I just keep walking my path and blessed to share my story"

Goodnight Seattle.

Times are hard.

Sometimes everything is difficult and it hurts, and you have to sit in your own shit.

It's not even scary to me anymore, I'm just like ummm how the fuck do I get out of this cycle?!

How do I stop being the self-destructive unruly gutter kid? Suggestions appreciated.

Also, being honest is not equivalent to being toxic or mean. Sometimes you have to fucking put out the reality on the table and face it even though its hard. Fucking be brave and man up. THAT IS NOT TOXIC. Sorry I am the harder path sometimes. SOrry i actually SAY WHAT I THINK and not placate the pain with a smile. I just cant... Honesty is the only reason I live.

(Wo)man the fuck up.

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