“You/Think”

The loneliness of only being yourself…

…terrifies the fuck out of us

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Nobody has this figured out, it’s anyone’s guess as to the why we’re here. Every generation churns out yet another layer of anxiety over the reason behind our why. The feeling of being alive is intoxicating, yet subversively paranoid simultaneously. Who else hears our thoughts, surely they echo across time.

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Desire poised just beneath the surface of fear. Luring our spirit into its web of ecstasy and exotic fulfillment. Never relenting it’s constant reminder of the darkness within all of us. Only the strands of guilt hold us back from over indulgence. We can’t help ourselves for wanting, we can’t forgive ourselves for accepting.

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As long as we don’t feel threatened, we feel we must know something special. Our vision of our existence is how everything fits together for us. Surely everyone else feels the same way about themselves. Suffering is a poor choice, cheer yourself up so no one feels badly about themselves. Anger will get you through the night.

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Peace is the constant dream, if only we could locate its calm. Surely there are moments of this mythical clarity, but suffering to find them seems to be the barrier of resistance. Tolerance for the suffering is the weight of that feeling for existence. Life’s tide rolls across our memories, washing clean the residual effects. Leaving behind nothing but guilt for not trying harder.

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Wasting away all those moments of being present in the suffering and not breathing in the essence of the space between the passing seconds. For its not fear of dying, it’s forgetting that our time falls within those gaps of anguish over the why. It’s love we seek, and how that feels. Reassuring our entanglement over how we arrived at another moment, and the weight lingers still.

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You think because that’s all the mind knows to do. You feel because that’s how we deal with our thoughts. You live when you train the will to accept. Love is the harmony of realization of this transformation. Once you figure that part out, there’s no space for anything else. The fear, anxiety, and suffering subside for the tranquility of compassion. The weight of living has been lifted…

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#love #life #peace #acceptance #compassioN

“Right/AMOUNT”

How do we ever know if what we feel, think, and do is the right amount? In rationing ourselves into life, what measurements do we rely on for what portion goes where?

All of us us feel our lives in the back, front, and all over our conscious awareness of ourselves. It’s how we’ve evolved to today, and the anticipation/participation paradox has tagged along for the ride. Anticipating the surrounding dangers was vital to survival at one point in this journey. Social enhancements like rule of law and their enforcement have relieved much of that burden, but the drive to anticipate still remains present across our species. Studies show the anticipation of an upcoming vacation is more fulfilling than the actual vacation itself. Sadly, we totally suck at this if measured against what the future actually feels like. Often we reach back for a desired feeling from the past, not realizing the brain augments that reality for the enhanced perception effect, and we fuck that up too. All the while the present is the victim to all this jockeying around of our anxiety about this very moment called now.

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Hey, I get it. I read the words from the hearts screaming in the backs of the minds of the folks wanting the weight of future to just feel warm and soft. Personally, I don’t believe anyone actually figures that part of consciousness out. Maybe peace is simply acceptance of all this without feeling diminished personally. We do tend to seek the safety of numbers until it feels like we might be compared and ranked. I’ve grown to feel that there is no right answer to this wonderment of life itself. Devine governance is certainly within the realm of all possible explanations, but our description of this smells of human interpretation, possibly supported by human ego and agenda. Randomness across seemingly infinite possibilities of a concept called the universe feels less than enough to support everything we know as life. I just discovered today that the scientific community has yet to develop the proper mathematical connection for validation of causality. That statement probably doesn’t mean a fucking thing to most people, but is meant to support this notion that nobody has life figured out, so that soft and warm place we all want to live consciously speaking, is a dream. Although, we as a species do have a substantially better understanding of what’s best for each individual than the total population suggests. Maybe we should talk about the sharing and hoarding of sociopathy. Help me understand why we can do so much, but so many have so little compared to the capacity for more.

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I’m captivated by watching everyone around me live out their lives. Translating expressions to what I imagine they feel. Wondering what they’re not saying, but thinking just the same. How do they relate to themselves. This human existence is a fascinating tale of possibility sewn together with thoughts and emotions twisted around the passing of time. Something from within moves each of us to want something else. This burgeoning of what often becomes desire permeates every aspect of our journey in time. Even delayed, we thirst for that moment of satisfaction. In between, we numb ourselves with distractions that still trace back to the familiar fire within. Every second carefully layered as to not lose that precious connection with desire.

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We all vibrate with consciousness…buzzing along a presence we feel with every cell of our being. Turmoil and peace alternate from our encounters with all the other forces of consciousness. Constant resonance of connection between the vibrations of life in the stillness of a seemingly endless universe. The excuse we throw upon ourselves we call love, like a specific frequency of this vibration of us. Channels are caved out to offer us a connection for that unrelenting echo of desire, clawing to find the surface of our existence. The attention we pay this cycle we then call passion. Believing that same presence resides in others is compassion. The absence can only be realized as death, the day the desire burns no more.

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#love #life #peace

“Fully/Understood”

What separates us as individuals is that feeling of being understood, or more importantly misunderstood. We attempt to share the deepest parts of our being with those we grow to be trustworthy of that piece of our inner picture. Often that gets distorted by the fear of being judged, or the fear of being rejected by someone we want to accept everything about us. Withholding aspects we are aware of can create resentment if later discovered, or permission to assume notions not acceptable by us from them. Connection at a deep level is a complex fucking deal. Comfort, which is what all of us seek, can ebb and flow with minuscule aspects of each individual involved in the connection. Discomfort disguised as confusion opens us up for derivatives of imaginary assumptions. What you say versus what you mean to express your feelings can twist into an emotional cyclone of hidden agendas and misrepresentation. Love is the mechanism we utilize to mash all of this posturing, impressing, and sometimes manipulating of those we jam together with. Love is the word we have crafted to define what overwhelms our rational capacity and races through our being as though no other sensation matters. Love is also the description of our thoughts racing around our minds leaving little to no room for any other deliberation of anything else. Seeing ourselves in the eyes of others and them being so intent of knowing as much about us as there is to tell. Understood. It’s the most magical aspect of being alive, it’s been written about by great thinkers, dreamers, and visionaries for as long as we’ve been able to describe it’s impact on our beings. I’m not going to offer some incredible heartfelt insight that’s not already been identified, but rather my personal experience of what it has etched upon my life.

I believe we feel love and it’s comfort long before we can make sense of it’s complexity. My grandmother’s offered me the kind of warmth and comfort I relate to even today. They were a huge part of my early childhood, and lived well into my adult life. I can honestly say there was never a moment in my life while they were alive that I didn’t feel the peace and comfort of their love. That sense of belonging anchored my heart to a notion of love that wasn’t as present from my parents. They loved me, but expected an emotional toughness from me. Theirs was never what felt like an intimate relationship in the way I view such connections today. That framing for adolescence created a conflict for the wanting to feel what I knew was a part of this aspect of one’s life, and the disconnect of the way to go about it. Seeing girls suddenly as different from your sister and mom, and feeling the merger of new sensations along with this known comfort of loving others was exhilarating and scary all at the same time. Not having the type of relationship with your parents that opened up confiding in them your deepest feelings about this confusion, you turn to your friends for support. It probably happens more often than not, boys conjuring up their notion of love by peer committee, but it has some serious flaws within its long term effects. Being the man your father represents, while being cool like all the popular guys around you is a bit like a dog toy being tugged over by a couple of playful hounds. That is if your father resists being seen as sensitive, and fails to communicate the context of his manhood, because his father failed to do so, as did the father before him, and so on. Generational biases stretch long and wide across ones adult reality as well. What’s lacking from childhood circles back to adulthood for its examination and clarification, yet it’s not recognized for such and is often shameful and hidden from our carried facade for who we posture ourselves to be.

Love seems abundant in the lives lives around us, yet hidden and absent at the same time. Love variegates itself to adjust for different contexts in wide ranging aspects of our lives. Confusing, indeed as there are times where the lines blur and the context distorted causing sensations of loneliness and despair as well as unfounded splendor and elation. Fully explaining yourself to another and overcoming the fear of judgement and rejection is arguably the biggest personal challenge of a lifetime. Seeking that incredible comfort is the driving force within all sentient hearts and minds. Arguably the essence of being alive within oneself and not feeling alone trapped inside your insecurities. Love raises us to heights like no other sensation, yet destroys the confidence it takes to overcome its rejection. What a deal huh, feeling as though your heart is as important to someone else as it feels to you, or that it never will. Now imagine that dilemma before you even understand what it means. What if your only examples were distorted from their dysfunctional nature, and you couldn’t piece together the tattered fringes of how that is how love truly works, because the people you idolize haven’t figured out to show you its meaning. Then one of your parents informs you their participation in the facade that’s brought you into life, and to the precipice of understanding is now over. You are the man of the house without any foundation in the truth of what that entails. You want so desperately to know intimate love with another, but all you have experienced is it’s failures. There in that moment you dispelled the dream of belonging for the cynical purposes of just desire. Heartbreak is inevitable because you don’t realize what supports love, nor how messy it has to be to survive. All you know are your feelings and true empathy is always a reflection of your pain and suffering, not acceptance of others in their terms. How can you possibly know it takes forty years to recover what’s lost in the summer of the only adolescence you will ever know.

“Denial is a wonderful place to be…” That’s what we used to laugh about when we dreamed about a future that we both knew had an expiration date. You were terminally ill, and I was your support system for whatever that journey would be. The doctors spoke absent of terminal endpoints, and smiled of hope with their wordy diagnosis and prognosis. Looking back, I realize now that’s just the story of the human emotional defense mechanism at its finest. Spurn me and destroy my heart, fuck that, I’ll never allow another to walk that path again. I’ve seen trust in others destroyed in similar fashion countless times in my life. The weight of the facade is almost unbearable, but pales in comparison to the agony of giving yourself to trust and watching it shattered before your very eyes. We justify our feelings denied rather than face their possible rejection. Don’t give, don’t get, don’t hurt unexpectedly, just suffer the loneliness quietly. If you really believe you don’t need the comfort of emotional human connection, well, you’re a fucking liar to yourself. Your awkwardness is obvious to the objective observer, and poisonous to those standing behind you. That behavior makes you less evolved and senates you from the tendencies of your biological order. This is especially true for females, given the predisposition to bearing children. No, that’s not sexist, just a statement based in evolution. How do you think we got here?

The cure doesn’t exist on the shelf of some store, nor on the set of some show, or behind an ad banner on a website. Self help books are the profit centers for people you will never know. Spiritual guidance will just condemn desire without resolving its dilemma. Being grateful for the pain in your life feels stupid, but is not entirely counterintuitive in that, it separates your pain from the notion of punishment. You are an active participant in some of the outcomes besieging you, but misfortune is too. Sometimes luck and intention go hand in hand, or in opposing directions. Measuring what’s critical, vital, and insignificant in every moment gives clarity to the entanglement of when and where your emotional contributions are valid and unnecessary. Smearing your emotional capital across each and every experience is exhausting as well as futile. Talking to those who you deem important to you about the covenants of love and connection enhances their ties within their hearts. Dispelling frustration, anger, and the subsequent hatred from your heart frees the spaces necessary for the comfort you seek. Forgiveness is important, but only because it’s an afterthought from all that frustration that’s built up inside. People fuck things up all the goddamned time, so believing they somehow won’t is insanity. Realizing it wasn’t a destructive conspiracy to tear you apart, but their own struggles to overcome their humanity is enlightenment. Allow yourself to represent all that’s inside of you, while being open to criticism without feeling judged, and know life hurts occasionally, but love soothes all its abrasions.

#LOVE